please come out in italy too

neutron-stars  asked:

for the disney prompts:: "who says we have to grow up?"

Harry is looking at him now with those eyes that make Draco wonder how he could’ve ever thought this thing between them was just sex.

Sure maybe it had started that way, but when Harry looks at him like that, as if he can literally see inside of him, like he cant hide a single thing about himself, well it makes Draco’s stomach do funny things. So yeah maybe it had started as something simple but it feels anything but now.

“We’re leaving tomorrow,” Draco says as if that matters. He wants desperately for the other boy to tell him that it doesn’t.


“It’s the real world again out there. People will care who we are and what we’ve done.” He swallows down the rest of his words.

He hadn’t known what coming back for 8th year would be like, could never have guessed at the second chance it would provide him. But today is their last day and he isnt stupid, he knows what most of the Wizarding World still thinks of him. Once they leave he doesn’t know if their relationship can withstand that kind of scrutiny and bravery has never exactly been a strong suit of his.

“I don’t care what people think,” Harry says, taking another step closer. And Draco knows all it will take is one word from Harry and he will try; try to be better, stronger, braver.

Draco knows without a shred of doubt he would do anything for Harry and it terrifies him.

The other boy doesn’t look scared though. He has that look on his face, all brashness and pure determination. There was a time it would’ve irked Draco to see it because he always felt like they were competing, and Harry was so many things he wasn’t.

It wasn’t until the look was directed right at him that Draco realized it wasn’t a competition, that it was ok to let him be all the things he wasn’t. And he knew that look well, it meant the other boy was about to do something equally brave and maybe even foolish.

“Fuck them. All of them. I don’t care about any of them except you.”


“No!” He all but shouts before crashing his lips against Draco’s and kissing him almost as if he’s afraid of losing him. Draco wonders if Harry honestly thinks he could ever really walk away from this.

“Who says we have to grow up?” Harry whispers when he finally breaks away from the kiss, backing Draco up against the wall and resting their foreheads together. “It doesn’t have to be the real world tomorrow, not yet. We’re still teenagers.

“Where would we go?”

“Who cares! Let’s run away. Anywhere. Come with me please?”

“Anywhere?” He asks, and Harry’s face breaks out in a smile.

“Anywhere. Let’s eat too much gelato in Italy and fuck on the beach in Greece and watch the sun rise in Paris. God please just say yes.”

“Yes,” he whispers.

Harry smiles again and it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. There are so many things he isn’t, but when Harry looks at him Draco feels like he is everything he was ever meant to be.

Olicity Hiatus Fic-A-Thon week 10: Late to the party

Words: 1245

Tags: Fluff. Just pure fluff. 

Week 10 submission for the OHFAT hosted by @thebookjumper!

Notes: I hope you enjoy this! Please let me know what you think once you’re done! :’)

Read on AO3

“Felicity, are you ready? We should have left 5 minutes ago.”

“Would you stop asking me that? If I was ready, we’d be in the car. I’m already aware of how late we are so please stop reminding me because it’s really not helping.”

“Are you okay? Do you need some help?”

“I’m fine. The more you talk to me, the longer I’m going to be so please just give me five more minutes and I’ll be done.”

“Are you ready, hon?”


“Oliver, I think you should just go without me. I’m really just not feeling too great anymore.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Well, yeah. But I just- I thought I still had a few more weeks in this dress but the zipper will barely go up properly and I don’t think it’s very flattering to be wearing something this tight when I look this huge.”

“Felicity, you don’t look huge. You look pregnant. Because that’s what you are.”

“I know that and you know that, but nobody else does and I really didn’t want to tell anyone yet but there’s literally no mistaking it in this dress. Maybe I could try the blue one? You know the floor length one I wore-”

“Would you come out here, please? So I don’t have to talk through the bathroom door when I tell you how beautiful you look and how nobody is going to notice because you’re barely 3 months along.”

Keep reading

Camp Velaris ~ Chapter nine

In what seemed like no time at all, another week had passed.

Camp was almost over, and so was mine and Rhys’ competition. He was still slightly ahead of me, having beat me in who could get down the abseiling tower quicker, and was delighting in the fact of his potential date.

I wasn’t so sure if he was joking about that date now.

Since our almost kiss, and the night at Rita’s, things had… changed between us. When he accidentally brushed my arm when he walked past my skin felt it was on fire. I had never felt this before. This longing, this electricity between us. I still didn’t know if he felt the same way or not. I couldn’t even ask Mor for help, in case she told Rhys.

I was just glad my stupid, drunk self hadn’t told Rhys anything.

Besides, it was probably just going to be a pity date, if Rhys won. For Or he was just setting this up so he could reject me.

No. I don’t think Rhys has it in him to be that mean.

I couldn’t worry about that right now. Summer solstice week is coming up, and planning for Starfall is well under way. We were to hold it in the sports hall. Not the most glamourous spot, I know, but we had bought dark blue fabric to drape around the walls, and fairy lights to be strung along the walls and along the rafters on the ceiling. I knew it would look just like the night sky.

This would be my first time going to a school dance –or something similar to one. I hadn’t attended my senior prom. It’s not like I could have afforded it, and I hadn’t wanted to bother Tamlin by telling him or borrowing money. I had just told him that proms weren’t my idea of fun. He had been relieved that I wasn’t hanging out with high school boys anyway.

I had wanted to go, though. And I knew it was stupid, and perhaps a bit superficial, but I had always longed for that teen movie cliché. That I would have a huge makeover and turn up a prom in my gorgeous dress with my handsome date, shocking my classmates, who had barely noticed I was there half the time.

In my dreams, I had always imagined Tamlin as the person walking into prom with me, but now I wasn’t sure who it was.

Except, and I wasn’t willing to admit this to myself yet, maybe I did.
“Happy birthday to you… happy birthday to you…” The five of us sang to Mor as her cake was brought out.

We were all crammed into our regular booth at Gino’s, the pizza place where we spent every Sunday night.

Happy birthday Dear Mor! Happy birthday to you!”

She blew out her candles, all at once, and looked back up at us all, the biggest grin on her face.

“What did you wish for?” Cassian asks, leaning forward to pick off one of the edible flowers off her cake.

She bats his hand away before replying. “I can’t tell you, or it won’t come true.”

“You don’t actually believe in that superstitious shit, do you?”

“It is not ‘superstitious shit’ Cassian. Everyone knows that if you say your wish, it won’t come true.” Mor says, indignant.

Cassian just stuck his tongue out at her, before wiggling his fingers for the bottle of wine which was in front of Azriel, who was sat next to Mor.

Mor was just about to start cutting up the cake when my phone beeped. It was a text from Nesta.

Sorry. I can’t be home by August. Going Italy with friends. I’ll be home by September. I’ll visit mom then.

“What the fuck?”

I didn’t realise I had said it out loud until I looked up and saw the others looking at me.

“Fey? What’s wrong?” That was Mor, who was looking at me with concern.

“What? Oh, uh, nothing. I just need to make a call. I’ll be one minute. You can start the cake without me.”

I squeezed past Cassian, who was on the end of the booth, and practically sprinted out of the restaurant.

I called Nesta up as soon as I was outside. After a few rings, she picked up.

“What is it, Feyre? I’m busy right now.” She sounded bored.

“What is it? You can’t just not fucking come. Even Elain’s coming.”

“I told you, I’m going to Italy. I’ll be there in September.”

“I know you’re still mad at dad. But, please Nesta. You have to be there. She was your mom too.”

“Look, I’m sorry okay. I would reschedule, the tickets are all booked. It would be rude to drop out now.”

“You know what’s rude, Nesta? Not coming to see mom. It’s been nearly ten years. I miss her, and I know you do too.”

“I do miss her, Feyre. But I can’t go home right now.”

“Why not? We are all hurting, Nesta. I know you loved her, and I know you’re hurting too. So why can’t you come be with your family. You know how bad dad gets at this time of year. How we all get.”

“Listen, I have to go. I’ll call you later.”

“Fine then. Don’t come. But mom loved you Nesta. So much. And now you won’t even come visit her grave. I knew you were selfish, Nesta. But I did not know you to be cruel.”

The line went dead. She had hung up.

Typical Nesta. When someone dared point out what she didn’t want to hear, she closed off completely.

And even if not seeing Mom was her own way of coping with everything, she could have at least called me, and not sent it over text.

And great. I was crying now. I always did when I thought about mom.

I stayed outside for another few minutes before wiping my eyes and walking back inside. The inner circle were talking quietly to themselves when I came in, but stopped abruptly when I got to the booth and sat down.

I could sense Mor was about to ask me what that was all about, but I saw Rhys shake his head slightly.

“We’re heading to Rita’s. You coming?” She asks me, her brown eyes searching my face.

I wonder if it’s obvious that I’ve been crying. Probably.

“Um, sure.” I reply. The last thing I want to do right now is go back to an empty room.


“I’m going then.” Amren states before finishing the rest of her wine and sliding out of the booth. That was all she said before putting some money on the table, the price of what she bought, and leaving the restaurant.

“So… Rita’s?”
“Do you want to talk about it?” Rhys quietly as we left. Azriel, Cassian and Mor were walking ahead of us, Mor in the middle, her arms linked in through both of theirs.

“It was just my sister. She’s not coming home at the end of summer. She’s decided to go to Italy instead.”

“Is she missing anything important?” He asks, his voice sympathetic.

My throat closes up at the thought of talking about my mother. All these years later and I still bawl like a baby at the thought of her.

I just nod my head at Rhys.

“Something like that.”

A Little Vacation

“Babe please wake up.”

You briefly opened your eyes to see sunlight streaming in through the open balcony onto your boyfriend’s face. His hair was a mess, sticking straight up from his head, but somehow he still managed to look irresistible cute.

“Too early,” you mumbled, rolling towards him and burying your face back in his pillows.

“Please, I’m begging you. It’s already 7:30,” he whispered, stroking your hair and kissing your shoulder. “I really want to head out and see the city before it gets too hot.”

You lifted your head slightly and once again saw his bright blue eyes staring at you, full of excitement. He kissed your nose and sat up quickly once he saw you were finally awake. You two had come to Italy on vacation, but it hadn’t been much of a vacation with Dan waking you up every morning at the crack of dawn. You hadn’t gotten in before 11 PM the entire week, and of course you hadn’t gone to sleep before 1 AM because Dan had been all but too eager to get you back to bed. Vacations were supposed to be about sleeping in and relaxing; they were meant to be about eating delicious food and sitting on the beach with a good book. Dan however was far more concerned with exploring the city nearly 24 hours a day and finding adventure. He ate for survival and not for enjoyment, meaning he never wanted to stop and eat. This often left you exhausted and starving, but you tried to overlook this because you loved him and wanted him to have a good time.

You sat up and rubbed your eyes before smiling and giving him a kiss. He smiled back and as you leaned in to kiss him more, he pulled away with an exasperated look.

“Can you please get in the shower now so we can head out before noon? I know you take forever to get ready,” he begged. You laughed, slowly climbing out of bed and walking towards the restroom of your hotel room. You glanced out the open balcony doors, noticing a half empty coffee cup and open newspaper. Dan must have been awake for quite some time. You quickly walk back to the bed and give him a peck on the forehead.

“Thanks for letting me sleep in,” you sarcastically mumbled against his cheek.

“Yeah babe, I know you need your beauty rest. But for God’s sake, go get in the shower!”

You smiled and playfully rubbed his hair before you obliged and walked into the bathroom.


An hour and a half later, you and Dan finally departed hand in hand to explore the city streets. Dan noticed your stomach grumbling so he led you around the corner from your hotel to a street full of little Italian cafes. He walked into the first one, busy with people ordering coffees, pastries, and other breakfast items.

“What do you want to eat babe?” he inquired. Squinting above his head, you realized the menu written above the baristas was in Italian. You looked down to see a woman being handed a large mug of what appeared to be coffee along with a bagel.

“Just a bagel and coffee please,” you said. Dan let go of your hand and turned to the counter, standing nearly a head taller than everyone else in the shop.

“Due caffè e un bagel tostato per favore,” you heard him say to the barista. The young woman behind the counter stared at your handsome boyfriend, clearly mesmerized by his eyes and his horrible yet adorable Italian accent. She smiled and nodded at him as he handed her money. He turned around and winked, which drew the attention of a few women standing next to you. They began whispering words you could not understand which quickly made you uncomfortable. You wrapped your arms around your body and looked at the floor. Dan walked back you, somehow holding both coffees and the bagel in one hand.

“Are you cold?” he asked, taking a bite of your bagel before handing it to you. You looked up to meet not his eyes, but the eyes of several women giving you nasty looks. You nodded and grabbed the bagel before quickly walking out of the café. Dan followed with a confused look on his face. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, I’m just hungry,” you said trying to brush the paranoid look off your face.

“I can tell when you’re upset, tell me what’s wrong.”

“I SAID NOTHING,” you yelled, anger suddenly taking over your body. Dan’s face dropped and he broke eye contact. You hadn’t meant to yell at him, but with the lack of sleep and food for the last week, you weren’t feeling yourself. Dan shrugged his shoulders as he always did, but he didn’t take your hand again. “Well alright then, let’s go,” he muttered, taking off down the street. You followed, noticing the shift in atmosphere because of your behavior. He made no effort to slow his brisk pace as he normally did when he was with you. You could tell you had hurt his feelings, and though you hadn’t meant to, you were in no mood to apologize. You walked several blocks this way, nearly running to keep up with Dan while trying to eat and drink your coffee.

“Hey can you slow down!” you exclaimed when you finally caught up to him. He turned around looking annoyed and glared at you from behind his glasses.

“It’s already 9:30, I had wanted to leave early this morning, so why don’t you hurry up?” Without waiting for a response, he took off down the street. You stood still, suddenly exhausted again. You didn’t know if you should follow him and have a miserable day of awkwardly not speaking to each other or if you should return to the hotel and take a nap. Suddenly very emotional, tears filled your eyes and a yawn escaped your mouth, effectively making your decision for you. You turned back and started towards the hotel again.


You slammed the door to your hotel room, stomping over to the bed and laying down. Your stomach was still grumbling despite the bagel you just inhaled. You opened the bedside table to find a room service menu. Looking it over, you decided on French toast, eggs, bacon, and orange juice. You immediately picked up the phone to order.

“Ciao, come posso aiutare?” a woman asked.

“Um, sorry, do you speak English?”

“Si Mrs. Smith, how can we help you today?” Mrs. Smith. At this rate, you weren’t so sure you ever wanted to be the Mrs. to your Mr. Smith.

After ordering and hanging up the phone, you walked across the room to the dresser. You opened one of the drawers to dig out a pair of shorts and a t-shirt to change into, but noticed the box of unopened tampons instead. Your mind immediately began to panic and you raced to find your cellphone. Unlocking it, you opened your app that tracks your period to find that you were a week late. Your period was rarely off schedule and you suddenly felt queasy. You stood up and ran into the bathroom, slamming the door before barely making it to the toilet.

Sitting near the toilet and retching for nearly 20 minutes, you checked your phone. No missed calls or texts from Dan. You set it down on the floor and again were suddenly overcome with emotions. How could he not have called to check where you were?

“He must be pretty pissed,” you whispered to yourself. Before the waterworks could start, you heard a knock at the door. Stomach still unsettled, you stood up and slowly walked to the door. A young man no more than 18 stood smiling and holding a tray with your food.

Ciao Mrs. Smith, here is your breakfast,” he beamed. You tried to smile at him as he handed you the tray but immediately burst into tears. You put the tray down on to the table at the foot of the bed. Pulling your legs to your chest, you sat on the bed.

“I’m so sorry,” you sputtered. The poor boy’s warm aura instantly disappeared and he became uncomfortable. Unsure if he should stay or leave, you looked up at him and tried to brush your tears away.

“It’s okay ma’am,” he squeaked, walking over and leaning down to awkwardly pat you on the back. “Are you alright? Is…is there anything I can do for you?” he hesitantly inquired.

You were about to reply no and that he could leave, but an idea popped into your head.

“Um…” you began, “Actually there is.”


Nearly 8 hours later, Dan finally returned. You were lying in bed with a book when you heard the door opened. Turning you head, he walked in the door holding a small bag and a facial expression like a sad puppy. He approached the bed and sat down but would not look at you.

“I hate fighting,” he croaked. He sounded like he had been crying, which all but broke your heart. You sat up and reached out for his hand.

“Me too,” you answered. He looked up at you and you saw how red his eyes were. Before you could say anything, he pulled you across the bed and into his arms.

“I’m sorry,” he muttered into you hair, kissing your head and wrapping his warm hands around your back. You snuggled into his chest, smelling cigarettes and his cologne.

“I’m sorry too, I shouldn’t have snapped at you,” you whispered into his chest. You sat like this for a few minutes before pulling your tear-streaked face out of his neck.

“Do you want to tell me why you were upset this morning?” he requested.

You pulled out of his embrace, sitting back on your side of the bed. He pushed his shoes off and tossed his jacket on to the floor, never looking away from you and waiting for a response.

“Well first I thought I was just irritable because it’s not exactly like we have been sleeping or eating enough the last week…” you started.

“Yeah babe, I know, I’m sorry about that. I promise we can sleep in super late and eat a ton tomorrow, I know I’ve been waking you up early.”

“It’s not just that.”

“Oh. Well…what else is it?”


“Are you ill?” He reached out and touched the back of his hand to your forehead.

“No I’m not ill,” you laughed, taking his hand from your forehead and into your lap.

“Well then what was wrong this morning?” His eyes darted around your face, looking for clues as to what you were going to say.

“I um…”

“Babe spit it out.”

“I’m pregnant.”

do you wanna see a mansion
do you wanna see a mansion

FINALLY ITS DONE CRies for 5 years

welcome to the new and improved and more heartbreaking “do you wanna see a mansion” laughs to infinity

SO lyrics here they are:


Do you wanna see a mansion?
Come on lket’s go explore!
It’s not like I would lie to you,
Its’a really cool!
Please, let’s go look around!
I wish you guys would come out,
So that we could go.
America thinks so too!
Vuoi vedere un palazzo?
Voglio passare il tempo…

{Germany} Italien, we’re busy.

{Italy} Va bene…

(Per favore?

Do you wanna see a mansion?
Or check out all these pretty rooms?
Oh pasta– che cazzo era quello?
Non di nuovo! I’m lost in endless loops! (I promise we’ll get out, I promise.)
It gets so very lonely,
All this empty space,
Just watching all my friends die…!
(Dead blind gone trapped non andare– per favore! Per favore…)

(It’s all my fault… please! Just one more loop, per favore…)

Holy Rome…?
Please, I see you out there…
I’ve been so worried, and now I…
I know the truth but, I just don’t want to
admit to you, that I’ve let people down..!
My world is slowly crumbling,
You are all I have…
What are we gonna do?

Vuoi vedere…. un palazzo…?

anonymous asked:

The wait for Call Me By You Name is slowly killing me.

hi friend, 

SAME! I mean… I only really got hyped like earlier this month but yeah haha Wait you want to hear something funny? I actually follow Armie Hammer on IG (flashback to tmfu craze) and kept seeing his Italy post and references to the movie and I remember just being like “huh hes doing some indie film? how nice! I should check it out maybe” AND I EVEN HAD THE BOOK IN MY TOO READ LIST ON GOODREADS FOREVER AND YET??? 

but I’m glad I was clueless for so long because waiting a year would have killed me tbh

What scene are you most excited to see?!!

How would they react and what would they say if they saw 2p Prussia in a maid outfit, with his hair in 2 ponytails.

Allen D, Jones/ 2p America: “HOT DAME KLAUS THEM LEGS GO FOR DAAAYYYSSS” (triesto embarrass him as much as possible)

James Williams/ 2p Canada: “What the hell are you wearing, ugh did ryszard put you up to this” ( gives him his shirt to cover up)

Louis Boneyfoy/ 2p France: ….the hair kinda ruins it for you tbh”


Sergei Braninsky/ 2p Russia “… why are you doing this”

Yang Wang / 2p china (looks up and down) “i have the weirdest boner right now” 

Siegfried Beilschmidt./ 2p Germany “this right here brother is why we don’t talk that much anymore!”

Luciano Vargas/ 2p Italy “THE FUCK IS THIS!:

Flavio Vargas/ 2p Romano: “Klaus baby this is not how you get guys attention! come with me and i will give you a proper outfit k,k”

Klaus Beilschmidt./ 2p Prussia “please get me out of this… trying to cover butt” -////-

Kuro Honda/ 2p Japan: “…well if that what your into…”

Ryszard Edelstein/ 2p Austria: “oh my Klaus if you wanted me that much you could of just said so~”

Santiago Fernández Carriedo/ 2p spain  “well… klaus, imma going to look over here now” 

anonymous asked:

The countries ad princes?

The Allies

America/Alfred F. Jones: Alfred would be a loud, brash prince would want have a wide range of knowledge on his countries military. He would constantly be among the troops, knowing many of them on a personal level and going to great lengths to be sure they’re ready to defend his castle and country. He would be among them if he hadn’t been born a prince, and at times detested the fact he was forced to stay home instead of fight for his honor like soldiers did. He would ask them to tell him of all their stories, listening with great interest and dreaming of going to battle for the sake of his country one day.

China/Wang Yao: Yao would be the curious for knowledge prince that had always found his way to the kitchen, sitting among them and listening as they hustled and bustled about to make dinner. He would personally ask them for tips on how to cook, wanting to enter competitions when he was older to bring honor back to his family’s name. His family was well known for being delicious cooks, and he proves the tradition correct as he wins many contests across the lands, proving that despite his princely attitude, he still knew how to do the basics of taking care of himself, and could create meals that would please even the toughest of critics.

England/Arthur Kirkland: Arthur was a regal prince, who took his duties and studies seriously as he was proud to be the successor to his father. He would be a social person, knowing how to react during parties that were thrown in the castle, but would find he’s more awkward head-on, especially with a person he’s interested in. He would feel as though his life centered on his family and continuing on his family name and adding to their rich history, preparing to become the greatest King his land had ever laid eyes on.

France/Francis Bonnefoy: Francis would be a loving prince, who had a bad reputation with sleeping with the common masses far too often. In reality, he wasn’t as the rumors told, keeping many people company but never sleeping with them. When he saw a person in need of a listening ear, or perhaps just a drink, he would lend himself to them out of the goodness of his heart. He found most nobles to be in poor taste personality wise, though he interacted with them as he should to not embarrass his parents.

Russia/Ivan Braginsky: A lonely prince who was stuck in cold terrain, Ivan would often spend his time out in the snow, drawing in it with his bare hands until they turned purple. His Kingdom was not only isolated, but feared throughout the land due to its violent nature and history. He found the life of a prince to be lonely, and would often disappear for months at a time into town to blend in with the common people in society. He would despise his parents for keeping him locked away from people, stating that they were breeding him in their image and giving him no choice in succeeding them.

The Axis

Germany/Ludwig Beilschmidt: Ludwig was the golden child of a prince, putting 110% into his studies. He was always dignified, unlike his older brother, and would hardly leave the castle as he was too busy attempting to fill out his parents expectations. He envies his brothers freedom to do as he pleases, and greatly admires him for being brave enough to rebel against their parents. He wishes to be closer to him but is often too busy reading or doing his own work, as he had a large role to potentially fill if Gilbert turned down the crown. He has a difficult time making friends, and comes off as awkward due to his lack of social experience, though some remark that it makes him charming in his own special way.

Italy/Feliciano Vargas: Feliciano was known as the charming prince who could easily woo many princesses, with a large line of people wanting to have his hand in marriage. He would be unwilling to pick, not wanting to hurt any one person’s feelings, and would put off his marriage for as long as possible. He still retained the belief he should marry the person he loves, and wouldn’t want to rush such an important part of his life. He enjoyed having parties and going to them, tasting the gourmet food and observing the layouts of other castles as inspiration for the paintings he would often create for them to make peace or alliance with the specific country.

Japan/Kiku Honda: Kiku would fill the role of the stereotypical prince, following the orders of his parents and having the utmost respect for them. He was shy, not liking when they threw balls in order to find him a significant other, and he would often keep to himself. He enjoyed the time he spent alone in the large library his parents had been gathering books in since they were first engaged, finding solace in the adventures he could read about and the characters he could vicariously live through. He hoped that one day his life could be as exciting as it was in stories, but would be sure to act as the perfect son until he had his time to shine.


Canada/Matthew Williams: Matthew is the shy, hardly noticed wallflower prince who mostly kept to himself. His own parents hardly spent time with him, having to focus on Alfred and keeping him out of trouble. He felt an intense amount of pressure since he was young, knowing that the crown would fall into his lap and thus he’d have to work extra hard to become the King the country deserved. He wouldn’t be physically strong, but would have studied strategy since he was young, being the perfect foil to the strong yet impulsive Alfred. He would mostly keep his brother from trouble, and would be the one to solve problems around the castle, though he’d almost never get the recognition he deserved.

Prussia/Gilbert Beilschmidt: Gilbert was a childish prince who was known to, even when underage, sneak into town to drink at the bars. His parents still believed him to be an angel, refusing to accept the fact that their prince continued to be a deviant, though they did know that he did not much care about his royal status. He would often give the maids trouble, playing pranks on them and any unfortunate enough to cross his path when he was younger. He wasn’t given much attention, as his parents were busy taking care of and raising his younger brother, and thus he learned to act out or garner it from others by misbehaving or overly flirtatious behavior.

Spain/Antonio Hernandez Carriedo: Antonio was a kind-hearted prince who was known throughout his land for reaching out to the common folk, and being involved in the community. He would go to war himself to defend their rights, helping them to keep their independence while promising to help their economy grow stronger. It hurts him to see his people struggle, and thus he will often visit town to help out the less fortunate, giving many of those who were homeless jobs within his castle, and building homes for those who weren’t rich enough to afford one, but weren’t poor to the point they were starving to death on the streets. He was well-loved, and many idolized him, excited for him to become King so that they could see the changes he’d bring to their land.

Boueibu Live Stream Event!


What’s happening?: We will be hosting a live stream where we’ll be watching the first season of boueibu. Fans can come and hang out! also if you’re interested in the series but haven’t had a chance to watch it yet then you’re free to join too!  

When?: There will be 2 live streams held on June 25th and June 30th.

What time? : 3 PM - 7PM EST/ 9 PM - 1 AM (CEST) (UTC+2 for Italy and Germany) 

Where will it be hosted?:


 Rules : Please be respectful to people in the chat 

If there are any questions please feel free to  message me 


anonymous asked:

Please write that AU you described in the tags of that Dylan O'Brien photoset. Please. I need it.

[my tags on the DOB Italy photos]

Stiles grins, taking another sip of his Mai Tai, plucking the umbrella out and tucking it behind his ear playfully. It’s the perfect plan; one week of peace and quiet, no paparazzi, no boring lectures from his tutors, no government officials needing his princely opinion on anything, no team of ridiculously sensitive bodyguards shadowing his every move. 

This faux kidnapping scheme is the best plan he’s ever come up with. Stiles was smart about it too, knowing the news would never reach his father because he would be terribly busy at the U.N. World Summit, and the security team would be too embarrassed to let him know that Stiles was “kidnapped” on their watch, and since the fake micro-terrorist group is sending them daily photos of Stiles unharmed and the promise of delivering him back before the king returns seems sound, they probably aren’t doing much to find him. The random money the security has sent so far has been rerouted and rerouted to Stiles’ private account and is currently funding his dream vacation.

Ah, paradise. 

Stiles watches the surf break on the sand, the pleasant buzz of alcohol settling around him. 

He is a bit lonely, though. Stiles thought a solo vacation away from everyone would be amazing, and so far it kind of has, except he kind of misses one of his bodyguards, Derek. Oh man, what would Derek even do on a tropical island? It’d be hilarious to watch him scowl at the sun and then remind Stiles repeatedly to put on more sunscreen. Maybe Stiles could convince him to help… now there’s a nice image. Stiles can practically hear him now…

Okay, actually he must be more drunk than he thought because he thinks he actually hears Derek.

Stiles! What do you think you’re doing?” 

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Stiles is running toward Lydia; all he can think about is reaching her. Soon, he is in front of her, her eyes distant as if she can’t even see him. He has to look her straight in the eyes, he needs to know that the girl he loves - the girl he has always loved - is still in there, somewhere, that despite the terrible things that have happened, Lydia hasn’t been completely driven out of her mind. His hands search for her face, anxious.
“Lydia?” He whispers, and hopes with all his heart that she’ll answer in some way. Her green eyes finally meet his gaze. “Stiles?” She asks, and there is surprise in her feeble voice, but also a lot of hope. Eyes widen even more, if possible, and Stiles sees a spark of life in that green that removes any doubt: Lydia is there with him. The boy exhales a breath he didn’t know he was holding back and closes his eyes, a wave of relief overwhelming him. “I’m here”
“What are you doing?” She murmurs. Stiles hasn’t heard her voice in so long that he finds hard to recognise it. It’s different, hoarse and weak. “You can’t stay here, Stiles. They’re gonna come and they’re gonna hurt you, you… You have to go”
Stiles looks at her without saying anything for a few seconds. The last time she’d been in mortal danger, he hadn’t been able to do anything in order to help her. He’d just stayed there, watching her bleeding out, paralysed in fear. He’d felt the same impotence when Scott told him Allison had died. Stiles thinks about the hunter and immediately feels the guilt that always comes with her memory. He thinks about Donovan too, about his face relaxing and his expression sinking in the grip of death. No, Lydia Martin is not dying because of him. She won’t die, he won’t allow it.
“Lydia” His voice cracks slightly. Then, almost breathless. “Please, shut up and let me save my life”