Ok, wow. Three months without updates. I APOLOGISE SO MUCH! I know that some of you actually read this, and I am sooo sorry! Thing is, I broke my arm on two different places, so I had the cast on for a month, then I had to catch up on all the schoolwork I'd missed, then I had exams for weeks…

A series of unfortunate events, basically! But I'm back, for a while at least, and though my new French teacher is killing me with homework, I will try to update regularly for you guys!

Enjoy!

Arthur had went to sleep, vaguely troubled by the rumors of the antics his younger cousin/enemy/best friend had gotten up to, and because of this, had nightmares of Alfred jumping off cliffs because he thought he could fly, then having Matthew drown him in maple syrup.

The following day, when he woke up, Arthur suddenly realised just how many letters he had left, and started writing like crazy. It wasn't the job itself, it was just that it was part of the young Brit's personality to always complete a task. So in his rush, he half gave up trying to write bad letters. He just wrote and ticked off his list.

By the time he looked up from his list, he realised his classes started in half an hour. With a muttered curse, he jumped up and started speed dressing.

Arthur rushed down the stairs, hitting walls on the way, and screeched to a halt in front of the newspaper room. Checking both ways, he composed himself, slipped in, found the Aunty Agony box, and slipped the letters in. Humming the James Bond theme song, he exited the room. He was locking the door when he heard two voices behind him, making him jump. "…And so, I mean, I was GOING to ask him, but, eh, I don't know…Whaddya think, mate?" "I've told you already, James, y-Hey! What're you doing?"

James Kirkland, his distant cousin from Australia (They were all related in this school, for goodness' sake) and Adri Pretorius had come to a halt in front of him, two pairs of greens eyes boring into him. "I-uh-I…I was, uhm, simply checking in on the club. It is my duty after all, as head of the student council." Arthur improvised, gaining confidence as he went along. "Right.", said James, cracking his back as he stretched. "Well, I have free time right now, so I'll leave you this lovely lady to escort!", the tanned boy exclaimed, before he ran off, snickering, as Adri shouted: "I am SO kicking your ass at rugby later, you bleddie-". Well. Arthur didn't speak Afrikaans, but he was pretty sure it wasn't somehing nice.

So now, he was left to escort one of the people who could least stand him the least in the entire academy to class. At least he wasn't stuck with Scott, he thought mournfully, as he turned towards the fuming girl. Deciding to avoid conversation with her altogether, he was about to start walking when the "lovely lady" spoke up, startling him out of his thoughts.

"What do you think about this whole prom thing, then?" Arthur blinked, and turned, surprised, towards the younger student. "You heard me." She said, and continued walking. Arthur caught up, then paused. "Well...to be honest, I'm not too crazy about it. I mean, the whole concept is pretty old-fashioned. Can't everyone just go with whoever and not someone they apparently have a romantic feeling for?" Arthur said, feeling the need to be honest for some reason. Green eyes scrutinized him for a moment. "I'd have thought that with your gentlemanly ways, you would have been a fan.", the South African said, "But then again, you weren't exactly a gentleman back then, either, huh?". The cutting tone of her voice, and the sneer she wasn't bothering to hide didn't escape Arthur's attention.

Great. Well, he knew this was going to show up sometime. It always did. "Look, about then," he started, "I was pretty young and reckless and prehaps not the nicest person ever-" Adri cut him off, as always. "And so you accidentally slaughtered half of the Boers. Seems legitimate." They had reached their class by now, and she walked in just as the bell rang, long hair swishing as she went, leaving Arthur feeling centuries too old for his age.

Aunty Agony, by Francis Bonnefoy

I would like to ask an amazing girl to prom. Two problems: one, she is my sister. Ok, so we're different here at Gakuen. Nations and all that. But still. Two: I think she wants to go with this total retard I absolutely detest. What should I tell her?

PS: You give me bad advice and I will kill you with your own shiny hair, Frenchy.

Dear Aggressive anonymous

Ask her. Tell her what you think, simply and clearly. If she says no, too bad. She'll still love you, she's your sister. About the guy she might go with, well, that's her choice. Just make it clear you don't like him, but that it's her choice.

Don't stop (le amour? La amour?) the love!

Yo, bro! Gotta big problemo, dude! I, uhm, yeah, well, so basically someone toootttalllly unexpected just made da moves on me, and I am totally confused! I mean, I spent like the whole last night freaking out cos of this! And, I don't know, I…I mean…I…Besides, I don't even know what he meant by it?! Whaddo I do?!

Thanks!

Dear confused "dude"

The first thing you have to do is TALK TO THIS PERSON. DO NOT RUIN YOUR FRIENDSHIP BECAUSE YOU'RE FEELING AWKWARD. You'll feel much better if you can sort things out.

If the person did, indeed, intent to make "da moves" on you, the main question is if you return these feelings.

Hi Francis,

So, have you found any advice for me that doesn't include doubtful and inappropriate things? something that might actually work with this person? I mean, what do you have that deals with aggressive/touchy/angsty/violent/confusing/adoooorabbblleeeee people?

Thanks XD

Dear friend,

although you can always try my aforementioned excellent advice, I would suggest just going slow. Ask sweetly and romantically, nothing flashy and possibly embarrassing.

Keep it cute~

Francis

Exiting an exhausting Physics lesson, Arthur trudged down the halls. He brightened considerably when he spotted his friend Kiku Honda standing at the corner of the hall. " Kiku! Hello!" he exclaimed. The Japanese student gave a slight nod (his bowing habits still hadn't worn off, Arthur noted) and greeted him. "Hello, Arthur-senpai."

Arthur rolled his eyes. "I've told you, Kiku, you don't have to call me senpai, we've been friends for years!" Kiku smiled slightly. "Sorry. It's hard to get rid of old habits." "Yes, that's certainly the case of everyone in this school, seeing as they all hate me." Arthur muttered.

Kiku frowned. "What do you mean?" Arthur flushed,realising he had spoken out loud. "Oh, I just meant…We've all had issues with one another at one time or another here, but all my ex-colonies seem to hate my guts because of how I treated them." Having finished, the Briton soon realised what he had said. "Agh! Why do I keep calling them colonies?" He exclaimed, facepalming.

His friend merely coughed in hidden amusement, then replied: "Well, it is true that perhaps you didn't treat them very nicely. But you are also correct in stating that none of us are saints."

Arthur sighed. "I know, I know. But still…" The two set off towards the cafeteria, from which chatter was loudly emanating.

As they passed by a classroom, however, loud shrieks caught the thick-eyebrowed young man's attention. "DON'T TOUCH THAT, YOU PSYCHO!" "GIVE IT TO ME!" "NO! NEVER!" The questionable statements were followed by a loud crunch and a string of curses. Arthur, meeting Kiku's eyes, decided that for once, duty could wait. He was hungry. A sudden thought hit him, and he turned towards the shorter brunette: "say, Kiku? Is it true that Alfred and Matthew…"

Gilbert Beischmidt had had many unpleasant surprises in his life (namely, waking up to find the house on fire), but he was pretty sure that this one was a winner. He had barely exited his dorm, sleepy eyed and yawning, when his #1 enemy, Psycho Hungarian chick, had turned up and demanded he "cough it up".

The psycho in question, when asked about the "questionable state of her mental health", merely gave a sarcastic "haha, that's so funny", before stating that she knew he had something to do with her creepy obsession (those were his words).

Thinking back, he was pretty sure that he shouldn't have said "Sorry, I'm not into that, so you'll have to get a replacement for your-"Uhm. Yes. Francis would know what these terms meant.

Yes, he definitely shouldn't have said that, because now, he was cornered in an empty classroom with a murderous creature intent on doing god-knows-what to him.

Gilbert had grabbed his pockets in an attempt to find a weapon, but all he had found was a paper. "Great! Now the awesome me has to defend himself with an unawesome couple predicting paper!" he had whined. Then paused, as he realised too late what he had done.

The gleam in the Hungarian's eyes was enough to make any man turn and run. As she lunged forwards, Gilbert jumped to the floor, avoiding her arms as he made towards the door. Could he escape? He could! He could! He-

Gilbert crashed to the floor as Elizaveta's arms shot out to grab his legs. As she approached the moaning albino, Elizaveta cackled evilly. "C'mon, Gilbert," she cooed, "give the paper…". But the Prussian was smarter than he looked.

"Come any closer and I'll rip it." Gilbert's voice echoed eerily as he looked his enemy in the eyes. She cursed mentally, suddenly remembering what a brilliant strategist he was (though she would never tell him that). "H-hey, don't be hasty!" She exclaimed. "You don't want to rip that!"

Gilbert, however, shrugged. "Why? I don't have any interest for that stuff." Elizaveta was beginning to panic. Seizing the opportunity, he started talking. "Let's make a deal, Elizaveta…"

She stared at him, brain whirring. "What deal?" "If I let you look at this paper, then you have to…" There was a pause as he thought. Here was a golden opportunity to ask whatever he wanted from her! A sudden idea flashed through his head. He smirked.

"Then you have to refuse to go to prom with Roderich, and you can't tell him why." Elizaveta stared at him, then her bottle green eyes widened. A flash of anger went through her eyes, and with a growl, she threw herself at Gilbert. "DON'T TOUCH THAT, YOU PSYCHO!" Gilbert yelped, barely managing to avoid her hands as they reached for the paper. "GIVE IT TO ME!" Eliza seethed, lunging again as Gilbert jumped aside, going "NO! NEVER!". Suddenly, a flash went through his eyes, and with a grin he raised the paper above his head.

Elizaveta felt like strangling him. Damn these tall Germans! So she stood there, watching in agony as the Prussian waved his arms above his head. Her heart clenched.

"Fine." She breathed, regretting it, and not quite believing it herself. Disbelief was etched across Gilbert's face. "What?" he asked, sure he misheard that. "I SAID FINE! Now let me see!" Elizaveta snapped, cheeks colouring rapidly. Gilbert lowered his arms slowly. "Promise?" he asked carefully. Elizaveta looked at him. "Promise". Gilbert smiled fleetingly, and then smirked. She would never break her promise. Between Eliza and Gil, one thing never broken was a promise. It had been that way since they were kids, and it would never change.

So Gilbert handed her the list as she avidly scanned it, memorizing names and squealing in delight at some. As she neared the end of the page, however, Gilbert grabbed it away. Elizaveta scowled. "You've had your time!" the albino exclaimed, pocketing the paper. "Besides, for all you know it doesn't even actually predict couples."

The brunette scoffed. "Please. Feliks and Toris, Alfred and Matthew, Matthias and Lukas…That's too many to be a coincidence." Gilbert gaped. "NO WAY! Matthias finally got him?!" Elizaveta sighed. "Honestly, you don't even know that by now?" Her senior only pouted. "I, unlike you, have awesomer things to do than stalk my friends for questionable motives."

"Shut up!" she exclaimed, hitting the "Prussian" on the head. "I'll have you notice that you're the only member of the so-called "Awesome trio" to not have a date yet!" Gilbert gave an "ack!" of surprise, then tried to cover his hurt ego by snorting. "Well, the awesome I have my reasons to not have a date yet. Just you wait!" With that, he stumbled out of the room, laughing his annoying laugh and leaving Elizaveta to charge to the newspaper club with her scoop.

"Thanks, Gilbert," she thought wryly.

But as she raced up the stairs, she collided with a tall person. Mumbling apologies, she looked up to find a well-known poker face staring at her. Stuttering in surprise, she managed a:"Mr Beilschmidt?!"

The father of the Germanics was back from the dead.

Wow, that was long! Hope you liked it, I find it kind of meh, but anyway…

Yes, meet Germania! The poor guy wishes he had a normal kid T.T

Reviews are my life XD