Curse Words

The whole "soulmate" thing was honestly something that Lovino Vargas didn't much like. Going through life with another person's handwriting on one's body was not some adorable romantic thing. Some people, like his brother for example, had a very sweet, sentimental phrase on their body. Feliciano's lower leg read, "It's a pleasure to meet you; you're quite handsome." — a phrase that Feli had grown up cherishing until his soulmate revealed himself. Yeah, Lovino thought that some people were just gifted with kindhearted markings. Lovino, however, was stuck with first words so vulgar, that he'd been forced to wear long sleeves or wrap his lower arm in ace bandaging.

"Holy mother fucking shit balls."

While Lovino didn't think the phrase was that inappropriate, mothers of children and the entire Vargas family thought otherwise. The Italian's family, when they first saw the profanity inscribed on Lovino's skin, wondering what kind of uncultured idiot their precious Lovi would be forced into love with.

"She doesn't sound very lady like,"

"Boy does she have a mouth on her!"

Often, Lovino wanted to remind his family that his soulmate might not be a female- (Not that he would mind a woman who cursed like a sailor, since he himself was quite the potty mouth)- as Feliciano's soulmate had ended up being a six foot tall muscly German guy who looked, in Lovino's opinion, like he should be starring in BDSM pornography. Lovino never said that out loud of course.

"Holy mother fucking shit balls." was written in dark black ink, with messy yet legible handwriting.

Lovino had given much thought to these words. To him, they sounded like a response. Most likely, he would be the one to initiate conversation with his soulmate, and the mystery woman, or man, would utter "Holy mother fucking shit balls." in shock. He wondered what his soulmate would look like. Would they be attractive at least? Have a great personality?

When he met this mystery person, he was going to kick their fucking ass for making him walk around with that on his arm. (Unless they were a beautiful woman, then that's another story.)

Feliciano had a habit of intentionally rubbing Ludwig Beilschmidt, his macho soulmate, in Lovino's face. The younger brother would often try and convince Lovino to go on dates with them or invite him over to the Beilschmidt household for dinner. After hanging out with the lovebirds twice, Lovino had enough. He was sick to his stomach from watching everyone around him be happy and in love when he was still alone and depraved of any sort of intimacy.

Naturally, when Feliciano had invited Lovino to go out to dinner with he, Ludwig, and the German's older brother, he had declined. This was now the fourth invite he'd gotten since the pair had gotten together. "But Lovi, if Ludwig's family is going to be part of my family one day, you should really meet them..." Feliciano frowned, pouting, "Gilbert's only a year older than you! Ludwig thinks you two will get along great, and I agree!"

Lovino scoffed, "Look, I'm happy for you being with Ludwig and all, but seeing you together.... Well, it just reminds me of how alone I am." He turned away from his brother; he didn't like having heartfelt conversations at all. "And I don't have any interest in making new friends."

"It'll be fun though... we're going to that nice Italian place with the breadsticks you love so much..."Feliciano put on his best puppy dog face, "and best of all," he paused, "Ludwig and Gilbert said they'd pay for it all."

Lovino sighed at Feliciano, knowing the younger had won this battle with the promise of free pasta and breadsticks. "Fucking fine. What time should I be ready?"