Hetalia kink meme ([personal profile] hetalia_kink) wrote2012-06-03 02:48 pm

Hetalia Kink meme part 16

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hetalia kink meme
part 16


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Rome/Germania -- Goats

[identity profile] hetalia-kink.livejournal.com 2010-12-03 03:40 am (UTC)(link)
(This is a model request. Please follow this format when requesting yourself: Pairing/character(s) and kink/prompt in subject line, BRIEF elaboration in message -- stay under 200 words and 3 bonuses. Historical background or definition of words, which can be removed without changing the prompt itself, won't count toward the limit.)

I'm requesting something humorous involving the above. Doesn't have to have smut, but smut would be nice.

France and his unforgettable cock.

(Anonymous) 2010-12-03 03:49 am (UTC)(link)
Inspired by a thread on the meme's discussion post: http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/17907.html?thread=60340467#t60340467

The Nations discuss the many strange things France and his cock have done while in bed with them.

Bonus: Poland took his virginity and feels, like, totally shortchanged that he didn't get any strangeness.

Re: France and his unforgettable cock.

(Anonymous) 2010-12-03 04:31 am (UTC)(link)
Oh man, seconded. Especially for the bonus.

Germany/Prussia - Airplane Bathroom Sex

(Anonymous) 2010-12-03 03:53 am (UTC)(link)
Just as the title suggest.
Prussia suggests it, Germany doesn't want to but eventually goes along.
Germany topping please.

Take flight 1/2

(Anonymous) 2010-12-04 02:04 am (UTC)(link)
/shakes fist
damn you prompter, I stayed up wayyy to late to finish this. thanks for such a delicous prompt, hope it satisfies


"Pleaaase, West, pleaaase? Just a quickie?"

"No! And keep your voice down!"

Germany looked around nervously, hoping that nobody had listened too closely. But no; everyone else in the line to the security check-point looked bored, stressed or a mixture of both. None appeared scandalized enough to have heard Prussia's filthy suggestion.

"And there's even a club for it and all! Man, you never want to do anything fun," his brother pouted.

"There is a great deal of difference between activities that are 'fun' and those likely to get us arrested!" Germany hissed.

"Excuse me, sir? Your passport, please?" the security man at the checkpoint said.

Feeling his ears burn, Germany handed over the passport while he tried to look proper and un-arrestable.

"Can't see any other reason to go through this shit," Prussia whined behind him when they continued towards the metal detectors. "We could have just walked to Honda's, you know!"

"Don't be silly." Germany patted his pockets, making sure that he had removed all keys, spare change and other items that might beep. "That would have taken hours. Hello." He nodded at the security attendant, wondering why he was eyeballing him so strangely.
"I need to know how our security measures work these days, not just in theory. Anyway... don't you remember what happened the last time you took a shortcut over Braginski's lawn with the car?"

"Ahehehe. But he couldn't prove it was me!" Prussia said, utterly ignoring the way he'd been pacing around the living room for three days, worrying about a sudden visit from Russia.
"And what are you looking at?"

Germany discretely kicked him on the shin.

"...m'am."

The security lady gave them both an unimpressed look and gestured at the clear plastic bag containing Prussia's liquids.

Germany glanced down at it. Instead of the mini-bottles of herbal liquor that he expected, he saw that it was full of little unlabeled jars. Strange... they looked almost like...

"This? Oh, it's just lu-"

"Medication!" Germany yelped. "And OH DEAR, I think it's time for you to take your pills again, Gilbert!"


Once they finally made it off the ground, Germany sank into his chair with a heavy sigh. At least they couldn't throw them off the plane, he thought.

"This is so boring," Prussia grumbled and fiddled with the tax-free catalog. "It's cramped, the food's probably shit, and you don't even want to play."

"What part of behave yourself is so hard to understand?" Germany replied. "We barely got through security thanks to your antics!"

"What? I checked those jars, they were way under 100 ml apiece!"

"...I don't even. No. Shut up, I brought work. And I will work."

"Booo-ooring."

"Watch a movie or something."

"s not even like I wanted to do it right in the seats," Prussia muttered, but he began to poke the controls for the miniature television. Discovering that they had some American action movie with lots of explosions that he had yet to see, he fell silent.

Finally.

Take flight 2/4

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Take flight 3/4

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Take flight 4/?

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Take flight 5/5

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OP

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America/England - Seven minutes in Heaven

(Anonymous) 2010-12-03 03:56 am (UTC)(link)
Like the title said.

Cramped space, total darkness, and seven minutes. Good luck, anons!

Bonus: Make it as smutty as possible.

Rule Three [1/4]

(Anonymous) 2010-12-11 10:33 am (UTC)(link)
{A/N: Second anon from above. This distinctly lacks porn, but I've always wanted to play with a high school AU. And by always I mean since I graduated in May.

Anyway, enjoy.}


It was past two in the morning, and the Friday night party at Antonio’s parentless house had dwindled down to the group playing spin the empty vodka bottle and pass around the emptying tequila bottle in the sunroom. The wicker furniture had been pushed back or outside onto the porch, and all fifteen teenagers were fighting off exhaustion and the sourer effects of their inebriation. They had been playing for hours, and everyone in the circle had kissed at least everyone else’s cheek, if not mouth, at some point that night – some of them needing more liquor persuasion than others.

Well, most everyone.

Gilbert, a rambunctious albino, let out a bark of victorious laughter when the spin of the blonde boy with glasses pressed against his left side pointed to himself. Before the blonde had a chance to think, Gilbert grabbed his face and gave him an overplayed smack, complete with smacking noise. The blonde shook his head out and giggled. “Thanks, Gil.”

The albino grinned. “No prob, Mattie.” He reached for the bottle and spun it as best as his inhibited motor skills would let him. “Come on, gimme a chick,” he pleaded, earning too-loud laughter from the circle. It stopped just shy of a girl with long pale hair at a scowling, barefoot boy.

He jolted out of his glaring at the floor when he realized Gil and his evil smirk were approaching. “No, no! I chicken, I chicken!” he said quickly, holding his hands up in defense. Gil wrinkled his nose at him, plopping back down in more of a sprawl across his spot and Matt’s lap than anything else. “You’re no fun, Arthur. Now strip.”

Grumbling about stupid people and stupid rules of stupid games, Arthur was forced to follow the second of the three rules of their version of the game. (Rule One was that the two people selected by The Bottle had to kiss or chicken. Rule Two was that the person who chickened out had to take off an article of clothing. Rule Three was any pair who got picked more than five times had to go to The Closet.) He pulled off his shirt to the whistles of the girls and the jibes of the guys, then studiously ignored everyone’s eyes as he stretched forward to spin the bottle.

‘Please don’t land on Alfred, please don’t land on Alfred,’ he chanted in his head (and maybe a little out loud, it was hard to tell at this point), taking the tequila bottle from Ivan on his left, throwing back a mouthful, and passing it on to Natalia without taking his eyes off the spinning bottle. He and Alfred had been matched five times already, and he didn’t want to face that gray area of attraction versus friendship that they were stuck in their relationship when he was drunk and slightly horny. It certainly didn’t help that Alfred’s usual fake flirting seemed to get more and more intense as the night wore on.

When it finally stopped, it was pointing at the sunny-skinned jock for the sixth time that night. Arthur stared at a widely grinning Alfred in dumb shock as his fate stretched out before him.

You couldn’t chicken out of Rule Three.

Their ‘friends’ were cold and merciless, cracking jokes and laughing uncontrollably as they were pushed to their feet by their neighbors in the circle and shoved out of the room - Arthur by Ivan, who was far too big to still be in high school, and Alfred by Bridget and Maddie, both ‘sexually active’ and the main sponsors of the more daring exploits of the last few hours. Ivan held open the door of the coat closet (the coats themselves had been thrown into the hallway so that there would at least be standing room for two people) while Maddie and Bridget shoved the two boys inside. Ivan slammed and barricaded the door behind them, plunging them into darkness and silence.

Rule Three [2/4]

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Rule Three [3/4]

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Rule Three [4/4]

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OP

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Author!non

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Re: Rule Three [4/4]

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HRE+Prussia; HRE feels like a failure of an older brother to Prussia and Prussia helps cheer him up

(Anonymous) 2010-12-03 03:57 am (UTC)(link)
IRL, Holy Roman Empire is significantly older than Prussia. Even if we’re talking Teutonic Knight!Prussia, HRE is a whopping 228 years older than him (he’s 565 years older if we’re talking nation!Prussia). I want to see HRE meeting his brand-new baby brother Prussia and being very sweet and protective towards him. However, as time passes, Prussia’s body ages as he progresses toward actual nationhood but HRE, since his kingdom wasn’t much more than a bunch of loosely connected nation-states, remains in child form. Prussia doesn’t really need his protection anymore and even if he did, HRE is too little to be of much help. He feels like a failure as an older brother. Prussia somehow figures out what’s bothering HRE and devises a way to make him feel like less of a failure. Maybe he gets together with a buddy and stages an elaborate fake kidnapping of himself which he allows HRE to save him from, or something… It’s up to anon really, but I like it fluffy and a little silly.

Bonus: HRE brings little baby!Prussia over to chibitalia’s and the two of them coo over him and talk about all the useful things they’re going to teach him.
(screened comment)

Reichsapfel [Part 1a/1]

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Reichsapfel [Part 1b/1]

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OP is...

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author!non is...

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England/America, felching

(Anonymous) 2010-12-03 03:57 am (UTC)(link)
Top!England please.

Sudden Insertion

(Anonymous) 2010-12-04 09:26 am (UTC)(link)
"Oh god, oh god, oh god..." America's panting words were neatly in time with the very moment their ragged thrusts managed to meet in the middle and England's cock was forced to its very deepest inside America's ass.

England smiled briefly at the blasphemy of an insistently Christian country on his elbows and knees being fucked senseless and repeatedly breaking his own interpretation of the third commandment. He let his hands slide from where they gripped his partner's shoulder blades, rested his sticky chest against the back below him, and bit down sharply on the smooth, sweat-slicked skin where his hand had been. America cried out and tried to thrash him off, and England relented. No claiming marks. That was part of the deal. The imprint of his teeth would be sadly and briefly temporary. It was always terribly frustrating to him that he had to abide to such rules. He wanted to lay claim to the man, mark him and keep him. But America and his silly pride. Even though England knew full well that there wasn't the slightest chance of anyone seeing such an intimate imprint, he gave in to the boy.

He felt America's shoulder dip as he reached back to jerk himself off. He had been painfully hard for some time now, and every thrust dipped the red head of his cock against the sheets where it smeared precum on the cotton. England quickened his pace with the desired affect that America nearly lost the grip on himself and clenched around England's erection. It felt so good, like hell wrapped up in a neat little package of heaven.

America squeezed his eyes shut as he managed to draw himself to a decent pace. He ran a finger back briefly to feel the thickly lubricated place where he was connected with the island nation. England shivered at the touch of his finger pad along his sliding erection.

It wasn't much longer until America drew himself to the point of no return and grunted against his forearm as he shot thick ropes of pearly semen over his fist and bedspread. His anus automatically clenched around England's cock and he too allowed himself to hit bliss, shooting his load deep inside America's ass.

They froze, panting, still stuck together by organ and by sticky sweat. When the haze began to dissipate, England realized that he had again broken the rule. Worse, he realized that America was thinking the same thing. A condom or pull out. No claiming. No claiming meant no claiming, America's silence raged against him. He pulled his limp dick out with a shiver of over-stimulation and ran his fingertips up the man's back in the manner which he knew most soothed him, buying time.

"It's okay." He purred, or at least tried to. America looked around at him in surprise as he spread his cheeks with gentle fingers. His anus was still quivering at infrequent intervals, was stretched and red, and already leaked some of England's smokey cum mixed with lubricant. It began to drip down his balls and England caught it on his tongue before it could join America's seed on the sheets. He drew the wet muscle up his ballsack and crack before he planted his lips firmly on the source of the leakage. He heard America's gasp, but he wasn't thrown off and he began to suck, drawing semen and lubricant into his mouth. His tongue probed as deeply as possible and with one hand he tried to massage the man's abdomen, trying to get him to shift so that more of the slick mess would be expelled into his maw. When he had a mouthful, England sat back and swallowed, sucking every salty bit into his stomach. It was a good thing that America had consented to an enema before their play. While he could stomach it, he wasn't too keen on scat.

"Better?" He asked. America nodded in numb amazement.

Writer Note

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OP

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Re: Sudden Insertion

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OP again

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Confederacy/America Yandere, Non-con

(Anonymous) 2010-12-03 03:58 am (UTC)(link)
It's is this anon's headcanon that the Confederacy still exists like Prussia, living in America's basement. Anon would like to see that the Confederacy, after being forced back into Alfred's house, has developed a bit of Stockholm syndrome over the years, beginning to lust after America. When Alfred begins to express interest in another nation, the CSA snaps and rapes him. The nation that Alfred has gotten a crush on is up to the filler.

The Divided States of America 1/2

(Anonymous) 2010-12-27 05:06 am (UTC)(link)
(A/N: "wasted length", recaptcha? Oh no no... That won't do...

Um... first fill. --terrified-- also, random OC name is random)
~~

Jonathan S. Jones grips tighter at the prone body beneath his and presses a few more chaste kisses on a toned torso, a broad chest, a vulnerable neck... and gets a whimper in response. One of fear, of denial. Of frantic pleading and hysteria, though it's far too late for negotiating. Jonathan has already entered the other man, and continues to thrust. Ruthlessly and lovingly, into the only one he has ever wanted.
To think he once hated Alfred F. Jones.
Oh yes, he was very angry with his counterpart some seven score years ago, so very angry. As he lay defeated in the mud, bleeding from the gunshot wounds Alfred himself had inflicted, he had been so desperately furious to die. Alfred refused to let him.
“We are two parts of the same nation,” said Alfred, and he took Jonathan home.
At first it was a dark windowless room in a cellar that held water like a sponge and heat like the Arctic tundra, and then it moved to a finely furnished room in the basement to free reign of the house. And over time, Jonathan forgot that he was essentially a prisoner in this house. Life was wonderful. Alfred had spared him, given him a second chance; he had not left him in such a pathetic state forever. No, he had forgiven Jonathan, and made his home theirs. How could Jonathan resent Alfred for defeating him when his conqueror gave him safety, food, warmth, shelter, and love? Jonathan was always there to listen to Alfred's woes of being a nation. Always there. He DEPENDED on Jonathan, NEEDED him. Just as Jonathan needed Alfred.
So why. can't. he. see. it?!
“WHY,” he rasps, panting above Alfred, staring straight down on his beautiful, bright-eyed counterpart. “Why would you even THINK about going on a date with Ivan Braginsky?! How dare you do this to me.” He accentuates his words with a particularly strong thrust, pounding into Alfred's prostate and making the nation cry out, in pleasure and pain and torment. “You want to fuck around with the communist scum you HATED for the better part of a century and wanted you dead on the ground beneath his feet? You want HIM your precious ALLY," he spits the word out, "because he chose your side over mine? IS THAT IT?!” He reaches up to claw at the two gunshot wounds on Alfred's shoulders. To restrain him only. To make him SEE...
"No. No, no, no, no, NO.” With each vehement denial, Jonathan slams into Alfred's prostate, eliciting a long stream of pleasured mewls, of desperate whimpers, muffled curses, tear-filled gasps.
And to think Alfred had been so excited to return home... to tell Jon the good news... who would have know the other would suddenly, inexplicably snap, run down the hall screaming, return with a gun, POINT it at him...
The anger fueling Jonathan's cruel ministrations suddenly ebbs away, and his rhythm becomes smoother, gentler. His hands no longer apply pain and pressure to the wounds, instead light caressing every inch of skin they can reach. Chaste kisses once again adorn him.
“He'll hurt you,” Jonathan suddenly whispers, in such a comforting tone.
You haven't? Alfred wants to ask, but beneath Jonathan, another facet of the very same nation, someone he thought he could trust, he is suddenly terrified. He cannot even whisper to make him stop anymore.

Re: The Divided States of America 2/2

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Re: The Divided States of America Epilogue 1/3

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Re: The Divided States of America Epilogue 1/3

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Re: The Divided States of America Epilogue 3/3

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...

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;--; weeps

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...

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OP anon is so happy!

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Re: OP anon is so happy!

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Austria x Prussia - A slice of life

(Anonymous) 2010-12-03 04:02 am (UTC)(link)
Established relationship with Austria x Prussia (in that order). In which Austria is cool, calm, collected and a bit 'cold' in contrast to Prussia's more childish, rough and obnoxious personality.

Something that explores their relationship where they find the balance between their opposing personalities and their general everyday life and interactions.

Basically, a slice of life.

Various - Mafia!Hetalia-verse

(Anonymous) 2010-12-03 04:03 am (UTC)(link)
Yes, you read that right. These guys are still nation-tans. In front of their bosses and in world meetings, they're nations. Behind the scenes, they run their respective regions, mafia style, and deal with espionage and other fun things mafias do.

For example, China would be a totally pimping mafia boss, while Japan, Korea, Taiwan, Hong Kong, etc., occupy positions like right hand and assassin.

Run with it, anons!

Re: Various - Mafia!Hetalia-verse

(Anonymous) 2010-12-11 03:22 am (UTC)(link)
Seconded!I would do this, but I don't know a thing about the mafia.

Re: Various - Mafia!Hetalia-verse

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Might Fill!

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Anyone/France Genderbent Pregnancy

(Anonymous) 2010-12-03 04:08 am (UTC)(link)
Somehow, for whatever reason, England turns France into a girl, and to his surprise, female France is six moths pregnant. Unable to change him back until France gives birth, England tries to keep the situation under control, but things start to get out of hand when many nations realize they could be France's baby daddy. Meanwhile, France is still the same pervert as always but is taking a real liking to having his own child. Please feel free to make it take place whenever you want! Who the child and father are depends on you. Feel free to think outside the box! I’m open to any pairing with France.

Bonus 1: France loves the attention he gets as a pregnant woman and considers staying a woman afterwards.

Bonus 2: This isn’t the first time France had a child on the way. However, this is the first time he expects the baby to survive.

Bonus 3: Get creative on the parent and child! Surprise us!

Iceland, Norway - past abuse.

(Anonymous) 2010-12-03 04:12 am (UTC)(link)
The reason Iceland refuses to call Norway his brother isn't because he thinks it's embarrassing. It's because he thinks Norway did an awfully terrible job of actually being his brother.

Sure, he was eerily calm and controlled and stoic 99% of the time, but he had to have some way of taking out his frustration with all the idiots around him... and, well, Iceland was the only one who couldn't fight back.

wheeee I'm going to hell.

Bonus - Iceland really, really wishes he could hate him, but there's one small part of him that desperately wants Norway to love him, so he can't. He's still completely terrified of him, though.
Super Bonus - the only other person who ever knew (or at least suspected) was Denmark. Thus the keeping of Iceland as a dependency when he lost Norway to Sweden.

Filled!

(Anonymous) 2011-05-05 11:09 pm (UTC)(link)
http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/18772.html?thread=74779476#t74779476

France/Austria, unconsummated marriage

(Anonymous) 2010-12-03 04:14 am (UTC)(link)
Humour request:

You know how Louis XVI and Marie Antoinette couldn't consummate their marriage for seven years? Well, I want to see France being unable to do the deed with Austria and Austria getting more and more annoyed and demanding as time goes by.

Bonus: Everyone knows France's secret and find it hilarious. Especially England and Netherlands.
Bonus 2: When he finally gets his mojo back and have sex, France is all "admit it was worth it to wait, cherie". Austria disagrees. Caustically.

USUK, stargazing during the winter

(Anonymous) 2010-12-03 04:16 am (UTC)(link)
I would like to see a pre-relationship fic in which America and England get all bundled up in their winter clothes, grab a thermos of hot chocolate, go out to America's back porch and look at the stars together. America ends up confessing his feelings for England and they end up kissing in the snow.

Bonus: England tries to point out the different constellations to America and tell him the mythology behind them but America can't see the shapes the stars are supposed to be making to save his life, declares "those old Greek dudes" who made them up to be idiots and makes up his own silly constellations.

Stars Hidden in Snow [1/4]

(Anonymous) 2010-12-04 05:36 am (UTC)(link)
I hope OP doesn't mind that it's AU!

The weather was getting colder and Alfred F. Jones could just see snow on the horizon. The blonde grinned, he loved the snow, ever since he was a child because it was so rare; you had to wait a whole year before you finally get to that time period where it does fall. It was also a time when schools might close and you get to shape things with the snow. He could still remember when he first tried to build a snowman, that was years ago, but he got upset halfway because his mom didn't want him to stay out for so long and forced him to go back inside. He had been surprised to see it completed by someone else that next day. Blue eyes twinkled in delight at the memory, that was when he first met--

Ding dong!

The sound of the doorbell interrupted Alfred's thoughts as he turned away from the window that let him look out into the backyard and walked across the house to answer the door. A boy around his age was standing outside. Annoyed green eyes and furrowed thick eyebrows looked up at Alfred. "Took you long enough, you git!" He mumbled as he walked into the house without a care.

"Sorry, Arthur!" Alfred answered with an apologetic smile. "I was at another part of the house." He said as he took Arthur's scarf and hung it on a hook. Arthur had sat down on a stool and started untying his boots. "So whatcha doing here? Thought you were going to spend the holiday at your grandma's house over at England?"

Arthur smirked up at Alfred. "Hah, can't get rid of me that easily!" Arthur said as he untied his boots and placed them neatly by the rest of the shoes of the household. "We're going in a couple of days instead. Pa's job needed him to stay for a couple days more."

"Ok." Alfred said with a shrug. "So why to my place?"

Arthur stood up with a frown. "Something wrong with me at your place? You've always let me stay here!"

"Right, right, you can stay." Alfred replied with a teasing smirk. Their families were close after the Kirklands had moved into the neighborhood from England. Since they were little, they would go to each other's houses and stay for sleepovers and such.

"Can you believe it?" Arthur asked as he walked over to a window. "It's nearly Christmas time." Just as he was saying so, the first bits of snow were falling outside the window. "...Hey, Alfred, do you remember--"

"Wow! It's started!" Alfred exclaimed happily and ran to the window like a young child would. "I hope it sticks! I hope it sticks!" He repeated a couple of times before remembering that Arthur was still in the room. "Say, Arthur, how long are you staying today?"

"Huh...? Oh, er, would it be a problem to stay the night?"

"No, it's not? Why though?"

"Ahh, my dad's busy with work. He wouldn't say it, but I'm sure he'd rather not have me bother him. And Mum's out of state on some work."

"Oh." Alfred responded. "...Ah, actually, my parents would be home late today too." Alfred laughed, feeling just a bit foolish that he had forgotten to mention that fact. "So anything you want to do?"

Arthur looked thoughtful for a moment. "...You received a new video game from Kiku, didn't you?" He asked, a grin spreading on his face. "I can't wait to beat your arse in it!"

"What? Beat me?! Oh Puh-lease!" Alfred said with a wave of his hand. "You'll be crying for your mommy in less than ten minutes!" Alfred taunted before racing upstairs to his room.

--

"Hurry on the plane!"

"Jump! How do you bloody jump again?!"

"That button!"

Stars Hidden in Snow [2/4]

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Author!Anon thanks everyone for such nice comments!

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Comic fill!

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America/England: Sex Pollen

(Anonymous) 2010-12-03 04:18 am (UTC)(link)
Basically, America and England get hit by sex pollen. Sex ensues.

1. They have no relationship prior to this; lots of UST, but still.
2. They have to have sex OR ELSE
3. And they go at it like rabbits
4. It's not their fault/America's experiment/England's spell.
5. Happy ending

Bonus:

1. One of them is the genderbent versions. And is a virgin.

That is all.

Preview?

(Anonymous) 2010-12-09 03:58 pm (UTC)(link)
Um, this is what I have so far. Enjoy...? ^^; I hope fem!England is okay. If you prefer fem!US, I can change it if you want. Also, it's Gakuen!AU, sooo...

POOF!

A cloud of a gold smoke-like substance filled the class room, surrounding its two current inhabitants with extreme predjudice as it seeped into each person's warm body...

No...oh, please, god no. That didn't just happen. It. Did. NOT. HAPPEN!!

Elizabeth Kirkland couldn't help but gape forward in space, with her green eyes as wide as plates and her thick eyebrows raised so high that they were hidden under her bangs. For a moment, the petite girl was so shocked that she couldn't breathe, but her heart continued to pound against her chest, possibly even more now that the pollen was in the air. That was one of its effects after all, right? Quickening of the heart, extreme heating of the body--well, this was what the fairies told her anyway--but Elizabeth still knew to be wary of the Fae and their word. After all, just because they couldn't lie didn't mean they couldn't somehow manipulate their way around the truth.

That's right, it's probably just a dud, she thought, laughing a little nervously. Because there's no way the Fae would be so cruel as to let this happen to ME. Especially if it involved...

A series of coughs from her taller companion brought her out of her thoughts and, without meaning to, Elizabeth looked up at him as the cloud of pollen began to dissipate.

His gold blonde hair reflected the sunlight from outside, making him glow more than usual, and his soft, lightly tanned skin seemed to emit a light as well (then again, that was probably the remnants of the pollen that got on him). His broad shoulders shook slightly as he coughed into his right hand, his left still holding onto that damned bottle that was once the pollen's prison. In his state, his eyes--a color that was so blue that Elizabeth still had doubts that it even existed--were clenched closed as his glasses, covered in a thin layer of pollen, almost slipped from his nose...

After finally getting his breathing under control, the teenage boy finally opened his eyes and removed his glasses to clean them. As he placed them back on, he blinked a few times, looking down into Elizabeth's eyes--Lizzie, he always called her, a name the British girl couldn't help but like and dislike at the same time, as was her nature. For a moment, the boy just looked confused--and then his eyes widened, darkening with an emotion Elizabeth couldn't (or was too afraid to) define.

Suddenly, the wind decided to make itself known from the open window, blowing inside the classroom, against the two World Academy students. Lizzie thought she vaguely heard giggles from the wind fairies, but her hearing was a little dull at the moment.

Because, just as suddenly, Elizabeth had an overwhelming keen sense of smell--more specifically, his smell. Though they weren't that close distance wise (him being on the other side of the room, and she being near the door), from the way his scent tickled her nostrils, Elizabeth almost felt as if they were practically embracing.

She closed her eyes, savoring the moment as she took him in--the scent of the leather from his bomber jacket, the tangy smell of his skin, implying that he had just come from gym class (possibly one of the few classes he excelled in with an A+)...bloody, hell, even the smell of those damned hamburgers he always ate seemed to make Lizzie's heart skip a beat.

And she absolutely abhorred those smells...usually. (W-what do you mean "usually"? A-all the time, damn it. I hate his smell...j-just like I hate him!)

Yet, for some reason, those smells now seemed...almost heavenly to her. Their mixture in the air were overpowering, heart stopping (and pounding) as they all seemed to form one essence.

An essence that was purely Alfred F. Jones.

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OMNOMNOM

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OP! ♥♥♥

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Finland ~ Mastrubation/Fingering

(Anonymous) 2010-12-03 04:18 am (UTC)(link)
Exactly, above.

Bonus: Finland's got some hard-core, freaky kinks in his blonde little head XD

While the husband's away... (1/2)

(Anonymous) 2010-12-13 05:07 am (UTC)(link)
(OK in context that title makes no sense whatsoever. But OK. I'm not sure if this is as hard-core and freaky as you were hoping for, but beyond bondage, something outdoors with other people possibly watching was all I could think of D:)
---
When Berwald is gone for long periods of time, or when Tino was away from Berwald for long periods of time, and Tino starts to get desperate, he never imagines them together in their cozy little house in their warm bed. Instead, they're in a tent deep in the woods. Sometimes it's during war, sometimes it's during a hunt from long ago, or a much more modern hunting/camping excursion.

Tonight is one such night. Tino had been lying awake in his hotel room for several hours now, whether from jet lag, the noise from the rooms near his, or something else entirely he wasn't sure. While he wasn't extremely needy when it came to sex, he and Berwald just didn't seem to have the time--when they were at home or in a hotel room together, they were too tired to do much. Tino groaned quietly--just thinking about how it was when they weren't so constantly busy was making him aroused. He slowly undressed, hazing-over eyes staring up at the ceiling as he conjured up a fantasy.

Instead of this dark, dreary hotel room, he was lying by a campfire in the forest, and instead of noise from the nations in the neighboring hotel rooms cutting into the sounds of night traffic, there was the usual sounds of the forest at night broken by the quiet murmuring and occasional laughter from other nearby campsites. Berwald was hovering over him, his large, calloused hands running all over Tino's torso. A small whimper sounded from Tino as those hands brushed lightly over his chest and nipples, running back down his sides as Berwald leaned down to kiss him, smothering the small, needy sounds the Finn was making.

Re: While the husband's away... (2/2)

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OP

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At Night

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OP

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author!anon here

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Fem!France/England, smut and femdom

(Anonymous) 2010-12-03 04:21 am (UTC)(link)
All I want is England getting fucked senseless by (alwaysagirl)Fem!France, because sexy and there is just not enough of it. I don't care if there's a plot, just make it hot. (lolrhyme) Begging and orgasm denial are the kinks, if you feel comfortable with including them.

Punishment 1a/2

(Anonymous) 2011-02-04 09:23 pm (UTC)(link)
Not above anon, though I feel I must apologize to them. I read this request on the FrUK index and filled it without clicking the link and seeing the conversation and I unintentionally added pretty much everything they had planned, too :-/ So, if you're still filling, I hope you're not mad and it's still different from what I did, because I would love to see your fill. The more FrUK, the better, non?^^

Anyways, guys, have a dose of France's hilariously overdramatic dirty-talking for the first part...


______________________________________________________________________

When England woke up, he wasn’t too surprised to find that he had no idea where he was. This wasn’t too rare of an occurrence, especially not when accompanied by his heartbeat painfully pounding in his head.

So he had gotten drunk again last night. Well, at least he had made it into bed. Whomever the bed belonged to, however, was not in sight, which was probably a good thing. He didn’t even want to know.

The plan of hastily searching the bedroom floor for his shirt (he still had his pants on, luckily) and fleeing the scene as fast as possible, was disrupted when he found that he wasn’t able to move his arms.

A quick glance over his shoulders revealed that both of his hands were handcuffed to the bedpost.

Oh crap.

“Regarde-moi ça… so you ‘ave finally woken up. I noticed by ‘ow my ‘ouse ‘as stopped shaking from your awful snoring.”

Oh crap!

“France…” England groaned in frustration. “Why am I here?”

“That’s what I should ask you!” came the slightly disgruntled reply. “After all it was you who showed up at my door, unannounced and wasted off your ass and disturbed my peaceful evening.”

“Let me ask that question again,” England said, eyes closed and refusing to look at the woman assumedly standing just a few feet away by the door. “Why am I here, in your bed, half-naked and handcuffed to the… is that coffee?”

The smell had him open his eyes in desire of the hot hangover-curing liquid and indeed, there was France - blonde hair falling messily over her shoulders and dressed in what looked like a very revealing silk night-gown – holding a steamy cup between both hands, inhaling the intoxicating odor with a sigh of pleasure.

The pleasure was soon overshadowed by a frown when she caught England staring at her coffee-cup and she took a long sip, just to piss him off. She burnt her tongue from it and struggled to keep her face from showing, but England was too busy trying to ignore his aching head to notice anyways.

“I would ‘ave kicked you out, you know…” said France, her fingers absentmindedly catching a drop of coffee from her lips. “But then you suddenly kissed me and I…”

England interrupted her with his incoherent spluttering, eyes big in disbelief.

“I did what?

“Oh, don’t you act surprised now!” France hissed. “Can you imagine what it was like for me? When I ‘ad to discover that you ‘ave actually grown into a good kisser? You did taste of that awful Ale of yours, but your skills were quite impressive, admittedly. Especially compared to the last time we actually cared to engage in such a… gentle way in sharing our bodies.”

“I was still a teenager!” England felt obliged to throw in. “And you wicked witch took advantage and tried to seduce me.”

“I gave up trying after you almost gagged me with your tongue,” France said dismissively. “Anyways, may I please continue with the story?”

England just groaned in response, feeling his headache grow stronger. He really didn’t want to know what happened yesterday.

“So, there I was, too surprised to move, trying to decide if I should kneel you in the balls or knock you out with a nearby bottle of wine… and then you suddenly pulled back and started to sprout off an avalanche of apologies,” England noticed how her eyes weren’t really set on anything as she talked, undoubtedly seeing the scene in front of her eyes. There even was a small smile tugging at her lips. England just felt the need to puke.

Punishment 1b/2

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Thrilled!OP

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Any Nation: getting comforted by a older sibling

(Anonymous) 2010-12-03 04:22 am (UTC)(link)
Nation X is having a really horrible day. Everything is going wrong, and they're just terribly stressed and upset, but try to keep going on with their day...until they run into their big brother/sister/nation who raised them/whatever. The older sibling tries to ask them what's wrong, and Nation X just falls apart and breaks down in tears. Cue lots of sweet comforting from the older sibling.

Feel free to make whatever is upsetting the nation silly or serious, either works.

I'll Dream of You part 1

(Anonymous) 2010-12-13 05:03 pm (UTC)(link)
He couldn’t sleep. Visions of that war, that battle, haunted his mind.
Japan looked around the darkened room all around him, his eyes suddenly filled with the horrors of hundreds dead and maimed. His nose could only smell iron and a black death. The ground his feet felt through torn and mangled sandals was course and ashen, rocky. The sky was overcast with a seasonal rain due, but the crispness that nature produced mingled so terribly with the inorganic stench of blood and bloodied armor.
He tried tangling himself deeper beneath the sheets, almost wishing for his breath to be stolen away. He fingers clutched the sheets until they were starkly white. His eyes squeezed shut but the visions wouldn’t go away.
He tried thinking on his older brother who wasn’t there. The kind man of where-the-sun-sets who had found him and treated him so kindly. That had been a time ago and know he was on his own, seeing the gentle immortal only when times were peaceful and right. Golden eyes that pulled him in and wrapped around him like honey; eyes he stared at to the point of unnerving the elder.

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Volcano Part 1 (Fixed Formatting)

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Prussia + Germany fill over here

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Any Nations: Personality Conflicts With Their Bosses

(Anonymous) 2010-12-03 04:23 am (UTC)(link)
All right, so it's assumed that if one runs for Chancellor/Prime Minister/President etc. of their nation they've got to love their country an awful lot.

However, I want a situation where despite the love a boss has for their physical nation and its people, they just don't get along with the personification very well strictly because there's some part of their personality that grates on them.

Canada's boss dealing with his canon wishy-washiness, France's boss trying to explain to him that sometimes, getting into others' pants doesn't work that well for diplomacy, or Poland's boss dealing with Poland being Poland... the list goes on!

Re: Any Nations: Personality Conflicts With Their Bosses

(Anonymous) 2010-12-03 05:11 am (UTC)(link)
seconded~

SuFin, How Sweden fell for Finland

(Anonymous) 2010-12-03 04:26 am (UTC)(link)
In the manga, it seems rather sudden; they run away together and then Sweden just starts refering to Finland as his wife kind of out of the blue. I would like to see the events leading up to Sweden's decision to make Finland his wife. I want to know how Finland first caught his interest and how that interest grew into full-blown love. It'd be nice if it developed a bit more slowly than it did in the manga.

Bonus: It takes place in gakuen AU

Re: SuFin, How Sweden fell for Finland

(Anonymous) 2010-12-04 05:43 am (UTC)(link)
Oooh, yes, I've always wanted to see something like this. Seconding.

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Ensemble (Multiple Pairings) - A Hetalia's Night's Dream

(Anonymous) 2010-12-03 04:28 am (UTC)(link)
X-over with my favorite Shakespearean play please?

Suggested roles:
Titania - England
Titania's Fairies - Sealand + Micronations
Oberon - France
Puck - America
Hermia - N.Italy
Helena - Spain
Demetrius - S.Italy
Lysander - Germany
Bottom - Prussia
Peter Quince - Russia
Rest of Company - Baltics + Poland?
Theseus - Austria
Hippolyta - Hungary

...if I'm missing any characters fill them in with whoever :DDD

Bonus: None are genderbent

Halflight - Prologue.a/?

(Anonymous) 2010-12-07 04:38 am (UTC)(link)
So here I go? ;;; Apologies if it’s awful – my first start on a fill here – and apologies for the speed, and here’s hoping you enjoy. (Weird prologue is weird, I admit, but the play proper starts in the first ‘chapter.’)

Main characters in their roles:
Titania - England
Oberon - France
Puck - America
Hermia - N.Italy
Helena – S.Italy
Demetrius - Spain
Lysander - Germany
Bottom - Prussia
Peter Quince - Russia
Theseus - Austria
Hippolyta - Hungary

For those not familiar with the play the main pairings will be France/England, Austria/Hungary, Spain/N.Italy, Spain/S.Italy, Germany/N.Italy, Germany/S.Italy and Prussia/England – but honestly, a bunch of others will probably be slipped in somehow (France is involved, after all), even if they’re just hinted at.
Country names are in use in the prologue, but human names will be used in the main chapters.




Halflight

Prologue: In Which France Hates England’s House, Sneezing, Dust, Gatecrashers, and Things That Do Not Exist



France hated England’s house. Truly, he did. Quite aside from how hopelessly outdated the décor was (England would not know chic if it waltzed up to him naked and smacked him over the head with one of his oh-so-precious teapots), the pervading smell – if not actual presence – of smoke in the kitchen (it was the twenty-first century. Why did England still find it so difficult to grasp that the smoke alarm did not make an adequate substitute for an oven timer?), the awful wine (a travesty), the deplorable weather (an oddity), and the perfectly charming greeting the host himself always offered with his trademark scowl whenever he opened the front door to find France standing on his step –

Quite aside from all of that – and (actually) quite a bit more, but usually by the time France had gotten to that point in the list England was either too drunk to be listening to him anymore (and there were better things to be done with a drunk England than talking to him) or busy trying to stab him with the nearest pointy object to hand – there was one more great, important, utterly detestable thing.

England’s house made France sneeze.

France claimed it was the dust. England clearly didn’t do enough cleaning of his hideous collection of (stolen – but that was a grudge for another day when France had Spain beside him) antiques, and so a veritable dust-cloud was doomed to forever hang in the air and attack whichever poor, unsuspecting soul walked into it. Really, France had informed his fellow nation on more than one occasion (usually whilst in the process of smacking down a set of cushions and taking up residence in a perfectly indecent – and horribly underappreciated; sometimes, he didn’t know why he bothered – sprawl on England’s couch), didn’t England know that his…his nest was a positive death-trap for anyone with breathing difficulties? Any such misfortunate soul would drop dead three seconds after wandering across England’s threshold, if not even quicker than that.



England’s response on every occasion had been very much along the lines of ‘choke on it and die, frog-bastard.’



Well. France had tried.

He’d tried and England had cursed him out for out too many times for either of them to remember, but still England had pushed opened his door and let France come inside – never invited, of course not, but rarely truly actively barred. He always sneezed in the hallway and pointedly ignored the scowl England shot his way, and England always went through to the kitchen to put the kettle on (unless France had brought wine) and France went through to the living-room and tried to ignore the flickering in the air, thousands of leaf-dry whispers and the flutterbeat of wings, giggles and shadows and tiny unseen hands tugging lightly on his hair.

England’s insanity was infectious. (Another reason to hate the house.)

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other author!anon

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Author!anon

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OP

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OP

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OP IS BACK!

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Halflight - 1a/?

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Halflight - 1b/?

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Halflight - 1d/?

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(no subject)

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Yay~ (Late OP is Late)

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Authoranon

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Comicfill

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OP

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Russia, Canada - Canada's like Siberia, Russia gets curious

(Anonymous) 2010-12-03 04:29 am (UTC)(link)
Canada and Siberia have a lot in common - temperature; latitude; large stretches of boreal forest/taiga; lots of natural resources; most people live in the south; similar size, population, & population densities (about 3 per square km); urbanised...

Someone starts teasing Canada about how he's like Siberia, using any of the above (or something else entirely), and Canada is insulted at being compared to a place he thinks of as a cold hell where political prisoners go to die, etc. Russia, on the other hand, is intrigued by a nation who hasn't cracked under the pressures he faces in Siberia, and decides to find out how Canada deals with it all.

Can be slash or gen, with any pairings you like, I'd just like to read RussCan bonding. :)

Bonus: General Winter. Somehow.
Bonus: Canada has a horrible picture in his head of Siberia, and Russia thoroughly disabuses him of it.

Re: Russia, Canada - Canada's like Siberia, Russia gets curious

(Anonymous) 2010-12-16 01:22 am (UTC)(link)
Seconded!

Any, World War 3

(Anonymous) 2010-12-03 04:31 am (UTC)(link)
It takes place entirely over facebook. Make it cracky, anons!
Pairings not necessary, but I like the following:
AmericaxEngland, PrussiaxAustria, GermanyxN.Italy, SpainxS.Italy and SwedenxFinland.

The Battle of the Drunken Allies Photo, and the Trials of Facebook [1/2]

(Anonymous) 2011-01-11 10:13 pm (UTC)(link)
Alfred FUCKING AWESOME Jones: ludwig, if u don't take tht picture down, i'm tlly defreinding u.
Arthur Kirkland, Francis Fabulous Bonnefoy, Ivan Braginski and Wang Yao like this.
Two hours ago.  
Like • 23 comments




Ludwig Beilschmidt: Alfred, it was your fault for getting so drunk. Also, my brother stole my camera, if it is anyone's fault, blame him!
Two hours ago. Like • Roderich Edelstein likes this comment.

Gilbert I'M THE FUCKING AWESOME ONE NOT THAT PANSY ALFRED Beilschmidt: WEST, WAT WERE U EVEN THERE FOR? AND I DIDNT STEAL IT, I BORROWD IT. 
BTW AL, NICE POSE. LOLOLOLOLOLOL.
One hour ago. Like 

Alfred FUCKING AWESOME Jones: ur name is so wrong btw, ur lame. 
Yeh an who was puttin moves on the priss? 
Lud it was ur fault for bringing the camera, lizzy had 1 nyway
One hour ago. Like • Antonio TOMATO Fernando Carriedo likes this comment.

Ludwig Beilschmidt: Brother, taking it out of my hands without permission is exactly the definition of stealing. Also, can I have it back? I presume you're awake; I hope you didn't get ice cream on it...
And Alfred, I was informed that the trip was a sightseeing trip in the normal sense. I did, however, see some sights I wish I hadn't.
54 minutes ago. Like 

Arthur Kirkland: Bloody hell Ludwig, take the picture down, you aren't so incompetent as to not know how to do that are you? The whole of Facebook will know?!
Gilbert, get a shorter name, it pisses me off. 
Alfred, what the bloody hell were you thinking!?
42 minutes ago. Like

Francis Fabulous Bonnefoy: Mes amis! Let the course of l'amour run true! 
Everyone can see it anyway, except you lot...
Ludwig, would you like Big Brother to... teach you about Facebook?
37 minutes ago. Like

Arthur Kirkland: Nobody asked you, you stupid wino frog! And Alfred being an idiot is not the course of true love. You must be blind.
35 minutes ago. Like 

Gilbert I'M THE FUCKING AWESOME ONE NOT THAT PANSY ALFRED Beilschmidt: KESESESESE, YOU'RE ALL IDIOTS! 
HEY FRANCIS! WANNA GO TO TONIO'S AND PISS THAT ITALIAN OFF?
AND WEST, IF YOU WANT IT BACK SO MUCH, I'M THROWING IT DOWN THE STAIRS!
32 minutes ago. Like

Francis Fabulous Bonnefoy: Sounds good, meet you there!
31 minutes ago. Like

Ludwig Beilschmidt: Gilbert, if you throw it down the stairs, I will personally oversee the downloading of a virus onto every decent function your laptop has until you only have a word processor. And I will not make your meals. 
To Francis: No. I'm quite alright.
29 minutes ago. Like 

Gilbert I'M THE FUCKING AWESOME ONE NOT THAT PANSY ALFRED Beilschmidt: NO, DONT DO THAT TO MY BELOVED COMPUTER! OK, OK, WALKING DOWN THE STAIRS WITH IT NOW, BYE LOSERS.
28 minutes ago. Like 

Alfred FUCKING AWESOME Jones: @arthur, i was drunk. uve done mch wurse things when tipsy, an u werent even smashed.
whatever german bastard, just take it dwn
francis, i tld u nt to say nything! stupid!
26 minutes ago. Like

Arthur Kirkland: What did you tell Francis not to tell anyone?
25 minutes ago. Like

Alfred FUCKING AWESOME Jones: nthing, nthing... 
francis u big twat im nvr trustin u again
22 minutes ago. Like

Francis Fabulous Bonnefoy: Well, all the non-dense people could obviously tell that Alfred likes you. 
Au revoir!
20 minutes ago. Like
Comment deleted at 14:29.

Alfred FUCKING AWESOME Jones: FRANCIS I FUCKING HATE YOU SO MUCH. 
20 minutes ago. Like

OP is...

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Futile Allies Meetings and Pointless Arguments [1/1]

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Author!Anon

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Author!Anon notes:

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Russia/America - HotplayxColdplay

(Anonymous) 2010-12-03 04:33 am (UTC)(link)
Russia and America's secret kink is hotplay and coldplay, respectively.
Obviously America would get off Russia, since he's a cold nation, and vice versa. But they don't realize it!
So on more than one occasion do they pass each other in the hallways of the UN building and touch each other, i.e. bump a shoulder or something. Then they get aroused (because of secret kink) and jump the closest nation, which is never the other. So as it is, America has had sex with all the other countries, except for Russia, and again, vice versa.
The rest of the world is not amused. (except for France)
To fix this problem, they lock America and Russia in a conference room reinforced with England's magic grade-A industrialized steel, so they can't get out. Sex ensues.

Bonus #1 - Hungary rigged the room with cameras and all the nations watch Russia and America get off each other.
Bonus #3 - the rest of the world is still not amused afterwards, when America and Russia overdose on PDA (or jump each other in the middle of the G8/G20 meetings)

[Best Title Ever] 1a/???

(Anonymous) 2010-12-27 01:33 am (UTC)(link)
“I fear we have a problem,” England stated, pinching the bridge of his nose between two nimble fingers. Blue eyes looked hotly up at him. Up. That was certainly one of the problems. “Will you get off your bleeding knees, America, I am not going to take my trousers off just because you’ve gotten yourself all hot and bothered!”

“England,” Alfred whined, nuzzling his face against Arthur’s upper thigh. “It’s not my fault.” He hooked his fingers through the belt loops on England’s ‘trousers’ and tried to tug them downwards. His hands were very harshly slapped away.

England glared down, a blush creeping across his cheeks. “Don’t you dare,” he hissed, yanking his former colony’s head back by the hair. “You may be my closest ally, America,” he continued, relishing the gasp that fell from America’s lips, “but do not ever mistake that for allowance to hop in the sack whenever your trousers get a tad too tight.”

“Y-you let me before,” Alfred pointed out while he tried unsuccessfully to twist out of Arthur’s grasp. “So, why not this ti-fuck!”

England’s eyes narrowed and he yanked harder. He bent at the waist to hover over America’s face. “Yes,” he conceded, “I did.” His bottle green eyes narrowed. “I will not do it this time, simply because you are acting like a common whore. Myself, France, Denmark, Prussia,” Alfred winced, but England wasn’t done yet. “Finland is terrified to be in the same room as you, and I have had to stop Switzerland from shooting you in the head multiple times in the last week, America!” He sighed softly and shook his head, his grip never wavering. “I am simply trying to look out for you, Alfre-”

“Like with the taxes, right?” Alfred shot back. He regretted it the instant those green eyes met his own. Something flashed in them, and Alfred sorely wanted to curl up with a crucifix and drag that old bible off the shelf. England released him only to shove him forcefully backwards, his upper back not having far to go in the cramped quarters of the broom closet before hitting a wall. The sound of a gun being cocked cracked through the haze of having the air knocked out of his lungs. Alfred stared up at England wordlessly, mouth slightly agape.

[Best Title Ever] 1b/???

(Anonymous) - 2010-12-27 01:35 (UTC) - Expand

Author Note 8D

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OP cannot function properly

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Re: Author Note 8D

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A!Anon here.

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Re: [Best Title Ever] 1b/???

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A!Anon has a message 8D

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US/UK Christmas Time

(Anonymous) 2010-12-03 04:36 am (UTC)(link)
Remember that Christmas was America's favorite day?

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christmas#Reformation_into_the_19th_century

In colonial America, Christmas wasn't popular.

The ban by the Pilgrims was revoked in 1681 by English governor Sir Edmund Andros, however it was not until the mid-19th century that celebrating Christmas became fashionable in the Boston region. At the same time, Christian residents of Virginia and New York observed the holiday freely. Christmas fell out of favor in the US after the Revolution, when it was considered an English custom.

And so America renounced Christmas. And then, many years later:

In America, interest in Christmas had been revived in the 1820s by several short stories by Washington Irving, for which he used the tract Vindication of Christmas (1652) of old English Christmas traditions, he had transcribed into his journal as a format for his stories. In 1822, Clement Clarke Moore wrote the poem A Visit From St. Nicholas. Irving's stories depicted harmonious warm-hearted holiday traditions he claimed to have observed in England. Although some argue that Irving invented the traditions he describes, they were widely imitated by his American readers.

So I want America missing Christmas he had spent with England in the past, and trying to somehow 'recreate' it again as he grew up. Bonus if there's snugglings and fluff with England later.
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Fic: Guilt of Christmas past 1/9

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EnglandxJapan Comfort

(Anonymous) 2010-12-03 04:38 am (UTC)(link)
Japan is staying over at England's house and has a nightmare/can't sleep for some reason so he requests to sleep with England

Jet-Lag Induced Insomnia (1/?)

(Anonymous) 2010-12-10 06:55 am (UTC)(link)
(I thought I could get this done tonight, but nope. I'll hopefully have this done by tomorrow evening.)
---
Jet lag was nothing new. Normally Kiku had no problem adjusting to a new time zone after a day or so, but he had been in England for two days and still wasn't able to get to sleep at night. He tried tea, he tried meditation, and nothing seemed to work. Perhaps it was because he was staying at Arthur's house since he couldn't find a hotel--the surroundings and noises were new, while most hotels were similar when it came to rooms, and Kiku was familiar enough with the sound of London traffic at night.

The third night, Kiku quietly slipped into Arthur's kitchen, hoping to quietly make a cup of tea--his third that night--to relax him some more. While he generally didn't like to use other people's property without permission, it was late, and he didn't want to wake his host. Fortunately he had seen Arthur make tea plenty of times, and it was just a matter of keeping quiet while doing so. He quickly removed the kettle from the stove before it started to whistle, turning the stove off before turning back to his warmed tea cup. Lost in the memorized movements of tea prepartion, Kiku's mind started to wander--when he couldn't sleep when he was younger, he would share a bed with Yao and the rest of their 'family', and when he would occasionally stay at Heracles' house the Grecian never hesitated to offer him a space in his bed if he couldn't sleep. Kiku's hands stilled as a faint blush rose to his cheeks--there was no way he could ask Arthur that.

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