briequalsdeath

Blind dates didn't have to be all bad… The hour was late, the streets lit only by the orange glow of the streetlamps. It was damp, but not enough to be chilly, just the perfect night for a fall romance. It's been said that most women can tell how the relationship will work out just by the first kiss. Would it work the same for men? Gilbert had to know; in fact he was bound and determined to make this the best damn kiss of Matthew's life. He'd blow the Canadian's socks off with this kiss. However, Matthew had different plans. He wasn't going to give up his shy nature just because he had had a good evening. Francis had only introduced G

The Reason Walking into his house, Gilbert opened the door only to be greeted with packed luggage littering the foyer. "Matt? are you home?" he suddenly heard thumping as Matthew walked down stairs carrying more baggage. "Wha-" "I'm leaving, Gil." Feeling his heart break a little, Gilbert felt the air tense up. "But…why?" "I can't take this anymore. Your constant drinking, going out late every night, worrying me to death. I need out." Finally breaking down, Gilbert fell to his knees. "But I can change! Please don't leave me!" And, looking away to the side, Matthew said nothing but gathered his belongings and stepped outside the d

PruCan- Lonely 'Man, I'm so awesome!' thought Gilbert Beilschimdt, the personification of Prussia (East Germany), as he walked (strutted) down the large, grand hall of the U.N. Meeting hall in Paris, France. It was France's turn to host the meeting much to his delight, as they were good friends. England on the other hand....not so much. As Prussia got closer to the big, wooden, double doors of the meeting room, his ears picked up the distinct sound of sobbing. He spun around; blood red eyes scanning the area around him, until he found what looked to be a blonde haired boy, with a peculiar curl sticking out, wearing glasses and a red hoodie,

It was a normal Friday night for Gilbert Beilschmidt. Meaning, he was on his way to the local bar to get as drunk as he could. Usually he dragged his little brother Ludwig with him, who also had a big fondness for beer, but today to Gil's disappointment Ludwig said he didn't want to go. "I er... have some things to take care of," was his unconvincing reply when asked. A chuckle slipped from Gilbert's lips as he walked down the street, hands shoved in his pockets to shield them from the cold. He had a pretty good guess what things his little brother was doing. He was probably going over to his new boyfriend's house. Gilbert shook his head. Lud