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Their first time together after WWII.
Preferably a few decades after, but they haven't seen each other since before the fall of Berlin, when they were both expansionist military empires. Now they're both geeky democracies, not great but doing okay, who really kind of like engineering. I want to see them rediscovering each other, the things that are different but also the things that are the same (diligence, efficiency, stoicism - all those cool things they have in common).
Awkwardness, understated affection, and nervous sex would be loved.
B: America as the unspoken elephant in the room - he broke them up, beat them both and then built them up again in their new shapes.
Preferably a few decades after, but they haven't seen each other since before the fall of Berlin, when they were both expansionist military empires. Now they're both geeky democracies, not great but doing okay, who really kind of like engineering. I want to see them rediscovering each other, the things that are different but also the things that are the same (diligence, efficiency, stoicism - all those cool things they have in common).
Awkwardness, understated affection, and nervous sex would be loved.
B: America as the unspoken elephant in the room - he broke them up, beat them both and then built them up again in their new shapes.
They’ve lost. They’re broken and bleeding like their children; one trailing bile and radiation in the tropics and the other torn into shreds and pieced together. Leaving pain behind like a curt whisper in the theatres they used to visit.
They would both rather die than face the humiliation of being carried down the halls like spoils of war. The man in the jacket doesn’t understand them.
“Just keep breathing,” he tells them firmly. “Just keep breathing.”
So they open their mouths and pretend not to drown. Either way, their captor wouldn’t let them.
-
Inhale.
Japan doesn’t like bread. But it’s all they have, his thinning children, and he can’t give them anything that’s not cancer or tainted blood. An entire generation grows up on powder milk and American records.
“You’re like a child.” Kiku hopes numbly that this means he is innocent of the blood that taints his fingers.
Staying dumb, he reaches for another stale roll and swallows.
Exhale.
He is worth nothing, Ludwig thinks. His people are suffering because of his stupidity. All of Europe groans under the weight of his sins.
How could he have let this happen? How could he have believed what they’d said, about Deutschland and the Reich and superiority and other delusions of grandeur?
It must be because he is a fool. He is such a fucking, stubborn, stupid fool.
Those thoughts in his head, he collapses in the snow when the Allies aren’t looking and feels himself freeze. In the East they are freezing too- together, apart, Germany starves.
The mist he breathes out curls in swirls like bombshell dust. Like Prussia. Like Nationalism and pride.
Like Italy.
Inhale.
Cigarette smoke. 1.4 billion dollars.
Germany works late into the night. It’s not his money. That’s the only reason- Ludwig still, even broken like this, hates to be in debt.
The office he sits in is dark except for his plug-in electric lamp. It reminds him of Italy and days on the coast. And Kiku, with the rising sun and the rising heat in his expanding smile.
He trades his weapons for pens and tools and textbooks and reads the Marshall Plan, burying his head in the Bundesrepublik. If cannot stop breathing, he will at least stop breathing at the pity of another.
Exhale.
Japan hangs up his katana on the wall.
“Never again,” he reads from the words burnt into his skin. His eyes, once filled with the light of the sunrise, now are as barren as the twin scars burnt onto his back.
If there’s one thing that Japan will never lose to the moisture on his lips, it is his unconditional obedience to his superiors. If his superiors tell him how to live, and why, he will not question them.
Arrogance is such a petty thing to catch in his throat.
Inhale.
It takes him a while to absorb what the game is about. It is, in all, about money. The man who has the most money in this society wins.
He speaks to his people in Western clothes and reads the fine print of every bank statement, analysing and overanalysing in convoluted attack plans. The rest is hard work and life employment.
Japan is the phoenix who rises from the ashes of the rising sun. Amaterasu would be proud of him.
Then again, the gods do not really matter anymore. What his people need now is money. He must work harder.
Exhale.
Germany takes slow measured breaths. He doesn’t easily get angry nowadays. Even the ponce with the beard doesn’t rile him. Something must be wrong.
The Korean War is long gone. Fingers blistered from the work, he comes home to an empty house and showers. He has enough to eat today, but the famine still leaves traces.
The Iron Cross is warm in his palm as he drips water into the carpet. Now, his silent image in the mirror is slighter and thinner, his muscle drawn out by leaner months. Naked he looks a little like Prussia.
“…Wirtshaftswunder.”
He decides he likes the sound of it.
They would both rather die than face the humiliation of being carried down the halls like spoils of war. The man in the jacket doesn’t understand them.
“Just keep breathing,” he tells them firmly. “Just keep breathing.”
So they open their mouths and pretend not to drown. Either way, their captor wouldn’t let them.
-
Inhale.
Japan doesn’t like bread. But it’s all they have, his thinning children, and he can’t give them anything that’s not cancer or tainted blood. An entire generation grows up on powder milk and American records.
“You’re like a child.” Kiku hopes numbly that this means he is innocent of the blood that taints his fingers.
Staying dumb, he reaches for another stale roll and swallows.
Exhale.
He is worth nothing, Ludwig thinks. His people are suffering because of his stupidity. All of Europe groans under the weight of his sins.
How could he have let this happen? How could he have believed what they’d said, about Deutschland and the Reich and superiority and other delusions of grandeur?
It must be because he is a fool. He is such a fucking, stubborn, stupid fool.
Those thoughts in his head, he collapses in the snow when the Allies aren’t looking and feels himself freeze. In the East they are freezing too- together, apart, Germany starves.
The mist he breathes out curls in swirls like bombshell dust. Like Prussia. Like Nationalism and pride.
Like Italy.
Inhale.
Cigarette smoke. 1.4 billion dollars.
Germany works late into the night. It’s not his money. That’s the only reason- Ludwig still, even broken like this, hates to be in debt.
The office he sits in is dark except for his plug-in electric lamp. It reminds him of Italy and days on the coast. And Kiku, with the rising sun and the rising heat in his expanding smile.
He trades his weapons for pens and tools and textbooks and reads the Marshall Plan, burying his head in the Bundesrepublik. If cannot stop breathing, he will at least stop breathing at the pity of another.
Exhale.
Japan hangs up his katana on the wall.
“Never again,” he reads from the words burnt into his skin. His eyes, once filled with the light of the sunrise, now are as barren as the twin scars burnt onto his back.
If there’s one thing that Japan will never lose to the moisture on his lips, it is his unconditional obedience to his superiors. If his superiors tell him how to live, and why, he will not question them.
Arrogance is such a petty thing to catch in his throat.
Inhale.
It takes him a while to absorb what the game is about. It is, in all, about money. The man who has the most money in this society wins.
He speaks to his people in Western clothes and reads the fine print of every bank statement, analysing and overanalysing in convoluted attack plans. The rest is hard work and life employment.
Japan is the phoenix who rises from the ashes of the rising sun. Amaterasu would be proud of him.
Then again, the gods do not really matter anymore. What his people need now is money. He must work harder.
Exhale.
Germany takes slow measured breaths. He doesn’t easily get angry nowadays. Even the ponce with the beard doesn’t rile him. Something must be wrong.
The Korean War is long gone. Fingers blistered from the work, he comes home to an empty house and showers. He has enough to eat today, but the famine still leaves traces.
The Iron Cross is warm in his palm as he drips water into the carpet. Now, his silent image in the mirror is slighter and thinner, his muscle drawn out by leaner months. Naked he looks a little like Prussia.
“…Wirtshaftswunder.”
He decides he likes the sound of it.
Sorry...It's just, well, the Travel Channel aired a show about the Niagra Falls yesterday and well....I couldn't help it...
PLEASE GIVE ME AMERICA AND CANADA HAVING A BARREL RACE OVER THE NIAGRA FALLS~! AND ARTHUR IS THE JUDGE/PRIZE?! Anon gets to decide who wins/loses and whether or not the idiots in question even succeed...MAKE IT EPIC~!
If someone DOES win, anon simply says this. Canada win = jealous America; America win = hot steamy waterfall sex plz? Sorry, USxUK is my OTP...
PLEASE GIVE ME AMERICA AND CANADA HAVING A BARREL RACE OVER THE NIAGRA FALLS~! AND ARTHUR IS THE JUDGE/PRIZE?! Anon gets to decide who wins/loses and whether or not the idiots in question even succeed...MAKE IT EPIC~!
If someone DOES win, anon simply says this. Canada win = jealous America; America win = hot steamy waterfall sex plz? Sorry, USxUK is my OTP...
“Don’t chicken out on me now, Matthew. Just have a look at these–”
“Alfred.”
“No way these aren’t going to be able to take a few hits, right? They’ve even got padding!”
“Alfred.”
“After all the trouble–”
“Alfred.”
“Don’t you want to have a good time, Matthew? Carpe diem or whatever that saying is?”
“Alfred.”
“You promised! Remember?”
“I was drinking.”
“So? A promise is still a promise!”
“Do you have any idea how many bodies get dragged out of the river each year, Alfred?”
“Live a little!” America’s sky-blue eyes burned with the all the brightness of an atomic bomb. That wasn’t the kind of comparison Canada wanted to be making as he was being pushed over to the contraptions.
A lot of effort had gone into making these, no doubt about it. The barrels looked professional. Dubiously safe, but professional. One of them even had a paint job. A wonderfully AMERICAN paint job. Yeah, like a bunch of stars and stripes were going to keep the idiot from drowning.
“Go on, look inside!”
If it got America to shut up, he’d do it. Tentatively, Canada peered inside. The ‘padding’ consisted of pillows. Pillows duct-taped, duct-taped to the hull. Canada wished it wasn’t true.
He sat down on the ground and tried his hardest not to cry.
“Isn’t it awesome? I got the idea from one of your TV shows!”
“The Red Green Show.”
“Yeah, how did you–”
“The duct tape was supposed to be a joke, Alfred! A joke! You can’t use duct tape on pillows!”
America tried to calm down his hysterical brother by putting an arm around his shoulders. “Oh. Guess I shouldn’t have used it to seal the cracks either, then.”
Canada sat there, his face completely blank.
These were carbon-fiber coffins.
Oh God.
They were going to die.
And then he started sobbing.
“I’m sure it’ll all be fine with a couple of life jackets, right?” America tried. There was no answer.
“Right?”
It was then that America realized Canada had slumped forward and wasn’t moving.
Well, America sure as hell wasn’t going to let his cowardly brother ruin his fun. Where was the excitement without a bit of risk? This was going to be an adventure. A death-defying stunt that only true HEROES could survive!
Canada would thank him later, America thought as he hoisted his unconscious body into the barrel.
I couldn't resist. The rest should be coming along tomorrow or the day after. (recaptcha: knicks dents. Yes. There are going to be plenty of those.
“Alfred.”
“No way these aren’t going to be able to take a few hits, right? They’ve even got padding!”
“Alfred.”
“After all the trouble–”
“Alfred.”
“Don’t you want to have a good time, Matthew? Carpe diem or whatever that saying is?”
“Alfred.”
“You promised! Remember?”
“I was drinking.”
“So? A promise is still a promise!”
“Do you have any idea how many bodies get dragged out of the river each year, Alfred?”
“Live a little!” America’s sky-blue eyes burned with the all the brightness of an atomic bomb. That wasn’t the kind of comparison Canada wanted to be making as he was being pushed over to the contraptions.
A lot of effort had gone into making these, no doubt about it. The barrels looked professional. Dubiously safe, but professional. One of them even had a paint job. A wonderfully AMERICAN paint job. Yeah, like a bunch of stars and stripes were going to keep the idiot from drowning.
“Go on, look inside!”
If it got America to shut up, he’d do it. Tentatively, Canada peered inside. The ‘padding’ consisted of pillows. Pillows duct-taped, duct-taped to the hull. Canada wished it wasn’t true.
He sat down on the ground and tried his hardest not to cry.
“Isn’t it awesome? I got the idea from one of your TV shows!”
“The Red Green Show.”
“Yeah, how did you–”
“The duct tape was supposed to be a joke, Alfred! A joke! You can’t use duct tape on pillows!”
America tried to calm down his hysterical brother by putting an arm around his shoulders. “Oh. Guess I shouldn’t have used it to seal the cracks either, then.”
Canada sat there, his face completely blank.
These were carbon-fiber coffins.
Oh God.
They were going to die.
And then he started sobbing.
“I’m sure it’ll all be fine with a couple of life jackets, right?” America tried. There was no answer.
“Right?”
It was then that America realized Canada had slumped forward and wasn’t moving.
Well, America sure as hell wasn’t going to let his cowardly brother ruin his fun. Where was the excitement without a bit of risk? This was going to be an adventure. A death-defying stunt that only true HEROES could survive!
Canada would thank him later, America thought as he hoisted his unconscious body into the barrel.
I couldn't resist. The rest should be coming along tomorrow or the day after. (recaptcha: knicks dents. Yes. There are going to be plenty of those.
It's actually an Art fill.
I would like to see England dressed as Sweeney Todd. The whole manic look on his face and razors. But that's if you want to.
was watching the movie
I would like to see England dressed as Sweeney Todd. The whole manic look on his face and razors. But that's if you want to.
Turkey/India – (Republic!Turkey, not the Ottoman Empire) on the difficulties of being ancient empires, but young democracies. A cute date, or possibly sweet, casual sex. Fem!India plz. Extra Super Bonus points for both of them acting all secular but still having Muslim/Hindu awkwardness.
I would LOVE some Russia/Japan based off this (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fWMvXxQDpww) PV. Yes, I like Koharu. >>
Communist-themed PVs ftw? Also, Balalaika is a Russian song too, so....8D? Please kind anons?
Communist-themed PVs ftw? Also, Balalaika is a Russian song too, so....8D? Please kind anons?
Think this's been requested for America/Austria? 'newayz. This anon would love to see Prussia teasing Austria for it. For coitus or otherwise, that shall be the writer's decision.
-----
The door to his office banged open unceremoniously. Austria's delicate fingers that held his teacup shook in surprise, spilling a few drops of tea on his immaculate shirt.
"Heey Roddy! You busy now?" Prussia swaggered to the desk where he was seated.
How dare he made him spill his finest, most expensive tea, and on his favourite white shirt nonetheless! He tried to calm the rapid beating of his heart.
Without waiting for an answer from the stunned Austrian, Prussia went on.
"I see you're not busy anyway. Drinking tea and relaxing like that. So yeah, back to me, the awesome one. I want to see some little Fucking!" Austria spewed his tea. On top of his important trade agreement with Germany.
He almost slammed his fine china teacup on the table and glared at the obnoxious Prussian, "I beg your pardon? What is this vulgar thing that you just mentioned, Gilbo?" The last nickname was said with so much malice, Prussia winced.
"Don't call me with that lame name." Prussia retorted. Austria raised an eyebrow and muttered a 'look who's talking now'.
Prussia ignored Austria's words as usual, "Let me explain the matter, because you obviously don't have the brain power to understand my awesome words before." Austria let out an undignified snort as an answer.
"So we were talking a little bit, and he said that your Fucking is awesome."
Austria sputtered.
"Of course not your skill, stupid. No way that can be possible. Must be referring to your infamous town, right?"
"Who gave you that information?" The Austrian's words were clipped. If his guess was right...
"We were talking the other day, America and me, and he said..." Damn that America. "...that we can even reverse our roles while we're fooling around. Not that I want to dress and act all sissy like you, mind that."
Wait, what?
"Repeat what you just said, Gilbert. I think my hearing is getting worse." Austria looked at Prussia with that shocked look on his face.
"You suck, Rod. Role playing while we're in Fucking. Dressing like an Austrian and go 'round the town, just like that ancient village in Japan?" Prussia graciously explained.
Austria coughed a little and cleared his throat. He actually thought that he really wanted to congratulate Prussia for being so dense. He quickly quell the thought and stood up from his comfortable leather chair instead. Unfortunate disturbance to his day could be saved by turning it into an interesting happening, he always believed.
"Ja, ja. You wanna see my Fucking, Gilbert?" He eyed the Prussia from his spot with an intense gaze, and Prussia is not that stupid not to realize that his friend/enemy was looking at him with funny eyes.
Prussia let out a nervous little laugh, "Oh, you finally bid my word." The great Prussia will not lose to some Austrian weird stare!
Austria let himself smile a little. A predatory smile. "I can show you right now." That cocky bastard can be taught a little discipline, surely.
Prussia took a step back. "I think you're busy now, Rod. See those papers!" He picked the drenched letter to West and grinned sheepishly. "Oops, haha. Next time?"
"No, I insist!" And Austria lunged at Prussia.
-----
Hungary was startled by the high pitched scream that permeated through the fine Austrian morning. She could recognize that scream anywhere. Hastily, she went out from the kitchen and ran off to her room to get her camera.
This would be a good one for her collections.
Mmm...
I want to see a Greece/Japan AU, when they're meeting the families of each other. You know, the dissaproving father, the always I-love-you-my-little-even-if-you-are-gay mother, random brothers/sisters/cousins/etc and hilarious situations.
... And maybe a little fluff and awkward smut <3
(if you include other countries in this I'll be very happy!)
But they must be humans, with humans names please.
I want to see a Greece/Japan AU, when they're meeting the families of each other. You know, the dissaproving father, the always I-love-you-my-little-even-if-you-are-gay mother, random brothers/sisters/cousins/etc and hilarious situations.
... And maybe a little fluff and awkward smut <3
(if you include other countries in this I'll be very happy!)
But they must be humans, with humans names please.
Russia/Canada - plot is up to anon, but I'd just like it to end affectionately/with love. Doesn't mean there can't be some angst though. Go anon, go!
Hetalia and Fresh Prince of Bel-Air crossover.
Human names preferred. Prussia is Jazz. Sealand is Ashley. Everyone else can be up to anon.
Human names preferred. Prussia is Jazz. Sealand is Ashley. Everyone else can be up to anon.
America and England doing the "Good Cop/Bad Cop" routine on a third country. AU them as real cops, or them just dressing up as cops for fun. Threesome and police uniforms are a must!
third country and which is the "good" cop, which is the "bad" is up to you! Is the third country handcuffed? no one knows but you ;)
third country and which is the "good" cop, which is the "bad" is up to you! Is the third country handcuffed? no one knows but you ;)
(screened comment)
England's reaction to this : GAR (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RAIYxRnBEdE)
Does this count as fill? Hopes anon got what OP wanted. >_< if you have title suggestion, thanks!
----
England was in his office alone when his laptop alerted him of an email. He took his teacup from the tray at that was placed at the side of the table by one of his assistants. As he took a sip, he clicked it open and discovered it was from France. He was about to delete it for the simple reason it was from the wine bastard when he read that the header of the mail said, "IMPORTANT DOCUMENTS".
He slightly raised his thick eyebrows as he clicked it open to discover a file download. As he waited for it to finish downloading, England finished his drink and poured himself another cup. He then heard a chime telling him that it was finished.
He clicked open the folder and clicked the file inside. Apparently it was a video file. The video player took a few seconds to load before it began the video. He took a sip of his tea.
As soon as the video began, music played and lo and behold! It was America! Wearing only his jacket and was that a red thong? England's mouth dropped open and tea was dripping from his mouth onto his crisp and clean suit. His hand had gripped the teacup's handle so hard that it broke and dropped into a thousand tiny pieces onto the expensive carpet. Those stains would be hard to clean.
That was the longest 54 seconds of England's immortal life. As the video played, England couldn't take his eyes off that bulge that kept moving. No matter how hard he seemed to try, he just couldn't. His eyes would always move back to it even if he tried to just look at America's ever-grinning face.
After the video ended, England's suit was now stained with tea and drool. His carpet was ruined and his mind was now scarred and his sanity was pushed nearer to insanity. Not to mention that his pants seemed to feel tighter.
He promptly closed his mouth, deleted the video, blocked France from his email, made a mental note to have the mess on his carpet cleaned up as well as his suit and to have a nice chat with America about what he could and could not post on the bloody internet.
----
England was in his office alone when his laptop alerted him of an email. He took his teacup from the tray at that was placed at the side of the table by one of his assistants. As he took a sip, he clicked it open and discovered it was from France. He was about to delete it for the simple reason it was from the wine bastard when he read that the header of the mail said, "IMPORTANT DOCUMENTS".
He slightly raised his thick eyebrows as he clicked it open to discover a file download. As he waited for it to finish downloading, England finished his drink and poured himself another cup. He then heard a chime telling him that it was finished.
He clicked open the folder and clicked the file inside. Apparently it was a video file. The video player took a few seconds to load before it began the video. He took a sip of his tea.
As soon as the video began, music played and lo and behold! It was America! Wearing only his jacket and was that a red thong? England's mouth dropped open and tea was dripping from his mouth onto his crisp and clean suit. His hand had gripped the teacup's handle so hard that it broke and dropped into a thousand tiny pieces onto the expensive carpet. Those stains would be hard to clean.
That was the longest 54 seconds of England's immortal life. As the video played, England couldn't take his eyes off that bulge that kept moving. No matter how hard he seemed to try, he just couldn't. His eyes would always move back to it even if he tried to just look at America's ever-grinning face.
After the video ended, England's suit was now stained with tea and drool. His carpet was ruined and his mind was now scarred and his sanity was pushed nearer to insanity. Not to mention that his pants seemed to feel tighter.
He promptly closed his mouth, deleted the video, blocked France from his email, made a mental note to have the mess on his carpet cleaned up as well as his suit and to have a nice chat with America about what he could and could not post on the bloody internet.
Japan/ Canada
Discussion about exports and Japanese-Canadians!
Discussion about exports and Japanese-Canadians!
America/anyone
orphan trains of america, i would love to see other countries reaction to it.
multi fills encouraged!!!
bonus bunnies:
america being totally optimistic about it and other country having doubts
=( ! anon wants angst, please writer anon
orphan trains of america, i would love to see other countries reaction to it.
multi fills encouraged!!!
bonus bunnies:
america being totally optimistic about it and other country having doubts
=( ! anon wants angst, please writer anon
Imagine it: England in all of his buccaneer badassery sailing the open seas, kicking ass, taking names and babysitting cute, innocent America.
Don't care how or why America is on board (stowaway!little!America?) but I would certainly like to see things like inadvertent cursing in front of America (and America parroting back the curses~), flimsy excuses about why big brother England is kicking the tar out ofSpain other sailors and just other wacky hijinks that would ensue when having a child like America on a pirate ship.
Fill it anon! Fill it for for the sake ofme the world!
Don't care how or why America is on board (stowaway!little!America?) but I would certainly like to see things like inadvertent cursing in front of America (and America parroting back the curses~), flimsy excuses about why big brother England is kicking the tar out of
Fill it anon! Fill it for for the sake of
[A/N: I'm sure this title's been used before. OTL. Uhm, here's the first part! I'll get to work on the rest. Plz be gentle? Anon hasn't fic'd in a long, long time and is still fairly new to the fandom. D|]
America always wondered what it was that made his Iggyland run off so suddenly when he came to visit. Every time he asked, Iggyland would simply just pat his head, smile and tell him he would be back to visit again soon. Now, after the first several times, America let it slide. He would smile back, nod and tell him he couldn’t wait.
But, now the child was beginning to become restless. It happened too often and without a good explanation. He knew his big brother was very busy but…
America was ever the curious little boy and rarely let anything stop him once he set his mind on it. Thus, the small colony was now hiding quietly in one of the many barrels being loaded onto the ship. If Iggy wasn’t going to tell him what was so important, America was going to find it out on his own!
Secretly of course, he didn’t want to make him mad. He just wanted to know! He would just sneak on, watch for a little bit, and then once he’d seen enough he would quietly sneak home. Perfect.
Once he was set down, America nibbled on one of the apples sharing his space and peeked through a small hole in his hiding place. There, now he could find out just what it was Iggy was doing this whole time.
~~
England wasted no time. A Spanish galleon was spotted, and he had just the time to catch up with it and give it a good beating. He hated leaving his charge again so early, but duty called, and he’d left the boy tucked in his bed.
Once he set foot on his prized vessel, he was immediately met with his crew handing him his effects. England slipped into his heavy coat as he queried them on the situation.
“What’ve we got, then?”
“A ship left no more ‘en a day ago, Captain. Headin’ past the islands,” replied his first mate.
England took his hat from him and nodded, pleased, “Very good. We leave now and we should be upon them by noon, tomorrow!” There was a chorus of excited ‘Aye’s and England gave the crew a dark grin.
“The bloody hell’re you still standin’ there for! WEIGH ANCHOR! WE’VE GOT A SHIP TO CATCH!” He watched the crew scramble across the decks with his grin widening. Ah, the excitement of a good chase.
He turned to one of the small barrels sitting a few feet from him and cracked open the top. Frowning, finding it too dark to see inside of it, he reached a hand in and pulled out an apple. A good enough snack, he thought. There was a lot of work to be done tonight, after all.
He replaced the top not noticing the small boy sleeping inches from where that apple had been.
America always wondered what it was that made his Iggyland run off so suddenly when he came to visit. Every time he asked, Iggyland would simply just pat his head, smile and tell him he would be back to visit again soon. Now, after the first several times, America let it slide. He would smile back, nod and tell him he couldn’t wait.
But, now the child was beginning to become restless. It happened too often and without a good explanation. He knew his big brother was very busy but…
America was ever the curious little boy and rarely let anything stop him once he set his mind on it. Thus, the small colony was now hiding quietly in one of the many barrels being loaded onto the ship. If Iggy wasn’t going to tell him what was so important, America was going to find it out on his own!
Secretly of course, he didn’t want to make him mad. He just wanted to know! He would just sneak on, watch for a little bit, and then once he’d seen enough he would quietly sneak home. Perfect.
Once he was set down, America nibbled on one of the apples sharing his space and peeked through a small hole in his hiding place. There, now he could find out just what it was Iggy was doing this whole time.
~~
England wasted no time. A Spanish galleon was spotted, and he had just the time to catch up with it and give it a good beating. He hated leaving his charge again so early, but duty called, and he’d left the boy tucked in his bed.
Once he set foot on his prized vessel, he was immediately met with his crew handing him his effects. England slipped into his heavy coat as he queried them on the situation.
“What’ve we got, then?”
“A ship left no more ‘en a day ago, Captain. Headin’ past the islands,” replied his first mate.
England took his hat from him and nodded, pleased, “Very good. We leave now and we should be upon them by noon, tomorrow!” There was a chorus of excited ‘Aye’s and England gave the crew a dark grin.
“The bloody hell’re you still standin’ there for! WEIGH ANCHOR! WE’VE GOT A SHIP TO CATCH!” He watched the crew scramble across the decks with his grin widening. Ah, the excitement of a good chase.
He turned to one of the small barrels sitting a few feet from him and cracked open the top. Frowning, finding it too dark to see inside of it, he reached a hand in and pulled out an apple. A good enough snack, he thought. There was a lot of work to be done tonight, after all.
He replaced the top not noticing the small boy sleeping inches from where that apple had been.
This is anon`s superlate fill of the prompt "Poland's crossdressing is his way to get Liet's attention, so that Liet would love him back. And he succeeds eventually."
First fill, please enjoy! And this was also very contributing background music for me, and yes I love this series. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p3tU0VRN7o0&fmt=18
---
When they were little, it was always entertainment for Feliks to clip those thin metal pins into his hair that cast his bangs in juuuust the right angle across his forehead, and to don the breezy garments that made playing the flower fields all the more fun (comfortable, and nifty too!).
But what made it all the more enjoyable, that just lit a deep spark of happiness inside his chest, was how it always made Toris laugh. It always started out as a light giggle whenever the younger one twirled around in his chequered or floral patterns, and began to ring like tiny bells across the fields when the blonde grabbed the others hands as they danced together in circles until they were breathlessly laughing and tired, exhausted limbs made them collapse into the gentle inviting grasses, lungs still breathing in and out the sweet sound of children`s true happiness found in one another.
Of course when they got older though, Toris would begin to scold Feliks for his choice of dress. After all he was a boy, but there on his face still was the evidence of not long forgotten days in the form of his warm smile. That was the sole reason Feliks would always wear those curvy clothes that would probably make most men look silly, but fit on Feliks like a silken glove, just so he could see that beautiful smile on Toris` face. It was worth all the funny looks and the joking (Feliks always took it in stride anyway, laughing along with them, because that was just so Feliks).
Nowadays though it seemed so hard to get him to smile at those antics of his though, the ones with white frills and ribbons and beads, clips and skirts and knee-high`s. Now it was more commonplace for Toris, and he would just shake his head, grin and bear it (especially when Feliks made his friend dress up as well, doing up his hair with clips that apparently "totally matched his eye colour" and creamy clothing that "perfected his complexion.") Just to have that interaction with his friend was more than enough for Feliks. It was like bonding with his friend, especially after the so many times it felt as if they were ripped apart, he would continue to fill the cracks, even the smallest ones.
That was what made Feliks truly happy. Toris` happiness.
First fill, please enjoy! And this was also very contributing background music for me, and yes I love this series. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=p3tU0VRN7o0&fmt=18
---
When they were little, it was always entertainment for Feliks to clip those thin metal pins into his hair that cast his bangs in juuuust the right angle across his forehead, and to don the breezy garments that made playing the flower fields all the more fun (comfortable, and nifty too!).
But what made it all the more enjoyable, that just lit a deep spark of happiness inside his chest, was how it always made Toris laugh. It always started out as a light giggle whenever the younger one twirled around in his chequered or floral patterns, and began to ring like tiny bells across the fields when the blonde grabbed the others hands as they danced together in circles until they were breathlessly laughing and tired, exhausted limbs made them collapse into the gentle inviting grasses, lungs still breathing in and out the sweet sound of children`s true happiness found in one another.
Of course when they got older though, Toris would begin to scold Feliks for his choice of dress. After all he was a boy, but there on his face still was the evidence of not long forgotten days in the form of his warm smile. That was the sole reason Feliks would always wear those curvy clothes that would probably make most men look silly, but fit on Feliks like a silken glove, just so he could see that beautiful smile on Toris` face. It was worth all the funny looks and the joking (Feliks always took it in stride anyway, laughing along with them, because that was just so Feliks).
Nowadays though it seemed so hard to get him to smile at those antics of his though, the ones with white frills and ribbons and beads, clips and skirts and knee-high`s. Now it was more commonplace for Toris, and he would just shake his head, grin and bear it (especially when Feliks made his friend dress up as well, doing up his hair with clips that apparently "totally matched his eye colour" and creamy clothing that "perfected his complexion.") Just to have that interaction with his friend was more than enough for Feliks. It was like bonding with his friend, especially after the so many times it felt as if they were ripped apart, he would continue to fill the cracks, even the smallest ones.
That was what made Feliks truly happy. Toris` happiness.
Though as the weight of the world often descends upon nations, now wasn`t the time for games. And it was hard to take him seriously when holding official documents when he was wearing a blue plaid skirt and little button up white shirt (blue brought out the green in his eyes, he had claimed years ago, and white went with like, everything). Now the tired brunette did not cast him disapproving looks or ones of bemusement, but glided by as if Poland could just be passed through, as if he blended into the very walls themselves. With the usual pout that often graced the blonde`s face when he disapproved of something, he decided to voice his opinions of his companion (and when did he not?)
"Yo, Liet~ I have your papers that you like, kept bugging me for hours about." With a huff he marched after the other, shoes click-clacking against the floor.
"Ah-wha?" Toris almost looked a little bit surprised as he directed his gaze back from the floor with a distressed look still pasted on his face, which made the other a bit concerned. "Oh yes, those legal documents! Thank you Feliks, I thought maybe you forgot or something." Gratefully, he took them from his arms with a smile. Or, at least he tried to take them from the cage of white cotton and blue trim long sleeves.
Tug, tug, tug
Pause.
Tuuuuuugtugtug
"F-feliks can you let go of them now. . .?" Toris asked with quite the weary smile, one that almost made you think he was used to this by now, which actually enraged the petite blond even more.
"Like, absolutely positively no. way! I`ll let these go until you totally answer all my questions!" Feliks demanded, ready to get what he wanted as soon as the inquisitions hit his brain.
Questions? All of the sudden? "Could we do this another time, maybe?" Toris sighed as he finished his statement, wishing that only he could move on. He needed these for the upcoming conference among the nations, and it was severely weighing down his brain. So much so, he barely noticed the tinges in Feliks` emerald green eyes. Tinges of mixed hurt and wonder.
"No, now. Cause I said so." He took a step back and freed the now slightly-wrinkled papers from Toris` grasp. "Fine." The brunette closed his eyes and frowned, praying that this wouldn`t take too much time.
"Uh-umm. . .euhm. . ." Feliks paused for a moment, gripping the papers thus tighter and wrinkling the 70% recycled material even further, trying to gather the main points in his head. They were being obscured by his anger at Toris` totally stupid obliviousness, or something.
Trying not to look impatient, the brunette turned his gaze to the wall, waiting for the opposite to speak up.
Any time now.
Yep, any time soon.
. . .
"Uh, Feliks, could you hurry it up a little?" Toris raised an eyebrow just a little. "N-not to be rude but I kinda gotta get going and-"
"Yo, Liet~ I have your papers that you like, kept bugging me for hours about." With a huff he marched after the other, shoes click-clacking against the floor.
"Ah-wha?" Toris almost looked a little bit surprised as he directed his gaze back from the floor with a distressed look still pasted on his face, which made the other a bit concerned. "Oh yes, those legal documents! Thank you Feliks, I thought maybe you forgot or something." Gratefully, he took them from his arms with a smile. Or, at least he tried to take them from the cage of white cotton and blue trim long sleeves.
Tug, tug, tug
Pause.
Tuuuuuugtugtug
"F-feliks can you let go of them now. . .?" Toris asked with quite the weary smile, one that almost made you think he was used to this by now, which actually enraged the petite blond even more.
"Like, absolutely positively no. way! I`ll let these go until you totally answer all my questions!" Feliks demanded, ready to get what he wanted as soon as the inquisitions hit his brain.
Questions? All of the sudden? "Could we do this another time, maybe?" Toris sighed as he finished his statement, wishing that only he could move on. He needed these for the upcoming conference among the nations, and it was severely weighing down his brain. So much so, he barely noticed the tinges in Feliks` emerald green eyes. Tinges of mixed hurt and wonder.
"No, now. Cause I said so." He took a step back and freed the now slightly-wrinkled papers from Toris` grasp. "Fine." The brunette closed his eyes and frowned, praying that this wouldn`t take too much time.
"Uh-umm. . .euhm. . ." Feliks paused for a moment, gripping the papers thus tighter and wrinkling the 70% recycled material even further, trying to gather the main points in his head. They were being obscured by his anger at Toris` totally stupid obliviousness, or something.
Trying not to look impatient, the brunette turned his gaze to the wall, waiting for the opposite to speak up.
Any time now.
Yep, any time soon.
. . .
"Uh, Feliks, could you hurry it up a little?" Toris raised an eyebrow just a little. "N-not to be rude but I kinda gotta get going and-"
America/Anyone: Okay, so, Americans are said to not like foreign things, right? And they make fun of foreign sounding things? Well, I would like to see Alfred messing around/lambasting someone's country name/city name, but the victim comes back with an argument knowing this (http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20090421/ap_on_fe_st/odd_very_long_name) Like, "yeah, well, at least I have a name I can spell." Perhaps Alfred can blame it on the Indian's? Bonus points if he blames it on Spain for sending out 'that incompetent Columbus/Columbo -- hell, even his name is in dispute.'
Forgive me if this has been requested before. :/
Homeric Troy is believed to be in Northwest Turkey.
Setting: Troy. Let's see Greece and Turkey fight over Helen. Add any aspects you want, pairings, historical/mythological people, anything. :D
Homeric Troy is believed to be in Northwest Turkey.
Setting: Troy. Let's see Greece and Turkey fight over Helen. Add any aspects you want, pairings, historical/mythological people, anything. :D
I'm tired of seeing wimpy!Austria being abused by Prussia. I want to see some angry, violent, ass beating Austria, totally giving ol' Gilbert what he deserves.
Smut isn't needed.
Just a good old fashioned ass beating. Make it as violent as you want~
Smut isn't needed.
Just a good old fashioned ass beating. Make it as violent as you want~
I finally caught up on the anon meme and Prussia and Hungary have somehow been brainwashed by Russia.
We know that Russia got Prussia after he was drunk and Hungary got caught the next day, but how?
Request: Prussia and Russia teaming up on Hungary to 're-educate' her with a threesome. I don't care if it's non-con or fluff, I just need to see this <3
We know that Russia got Prussia after he was drunk and Hungary got caught the next day, but how?
Request: Prussia and Russia teaming up on Hungary to 're-educate' her with a threesome. I don't care if it's non-con or fluff, I just need to see this <3
Okay, so, I was looking through the news on the internet and -
http://finance.yahoo.com/news/10-Countries-in-Deep-usnews-14971805.html?.&.pf=real-estate
Looks like Ukraine is on the top five list. And the other countries should keep an eye on Belarus and Latvia, too. Anon would like the three nations worrying over their economy and well - angst. Unless you'd like to make it crack-ish, well, that's fine. As long as they're worrying shitloads.
Bonus: You can fit America there if you like! America being "I understand your pain!" or something xDD
Sorry, is this confusing? I'm sorry u______u
http://finance.yahoo.com/news/10-Countries-in-Deep-usnews-14971805.html?.&.pf=real-estate
Looks like Ukraine is on the top five list. And the other countries should keep an eye on Belarus and Latvia, too. Anon would like the three nations worrying over their economy and well - angst. Unless you'd like to make it crack-ish, well, that's fine. As long as they're worrying shitloads.
Bonus: You can fit America there if you like! America being "I understand your pain!" or something xDD
Sorry, is this confusing? I'm sorry u______u
http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/9482.html?thread=11820554#t11820554
“…I mean, with those horns you do … look like a cow. Mind you, a very pretty cow!
Besides, that lovely blue tunic of yours is rather fetching, especially covered in gore. Not …not that I like to see you so dirty, it’s just that the new offset of colors and hues …makes a very different kind of pretty, now.
And, well, on your last shopping trip you came back home with …a lot of shiny things…and the milk!”
Because, only Gar!Finland could think a Viking raid is a girly shopping spree, and remembering the milk is anything but good memory.
(Brought to you by a cracky conversation about Finalnd and his GAR-ness at naming stuff (coughHanaTamagocough).)
TAKE IT AWAY, ANON!!
Besides, that lovely blue tunic of yours is rather fetching, especially covered in gore. Not …not that I like to see you so dirty, it’s just that the new offset of colors and hues …makes a very different kind of pretty, now.
And, well, on your last shopping trip you came back home with …a lot of shiny things…and the milk!”
Because, only Gar!Finland could think a Viking raid is a girly shopping spree, and remembering the milk is anything but good memory.
(Brought to you by a cracky conversation about Finalnd and his GAR-ness at naming stuff (coughHanaTamagocough).)
TAKE IT AWAY, ANON!!
Well, not precisely, but in the recent episode, the brothers had a bit of this exchange:
Dean Winchester: [Reading on the computer] There are 'Sam girls' and 'Dean girls' and... what's a slash fan?
Sam Winchester: As in Sam/Dean... together.
Dean Winchester: Like together-together?
Sam Winchester: Yeah.
Dean Winchester: [Horrified] They do know we're brothers, right?
Sam Winchester: Doesn't seem to matter.
Dean Winchester: Oh, come on, that... that's just sick...
But this time with England and America, maybe finding out the fanarts/doujin/kinkmeme, etc....but America doesn't actually...mind the whole "brothers" thing. Cue in sexy tiems.
(Also, if you actually manage to make this Supernatural!Hetalia AU, you can have my er, fourth born)
Dean Winchester: [Reading on the computer] There are 'Sam girls' and 'Dean girls' and... what's a slash fan?
Sam Winchester: As in Sam/Dean... together.
Dean Winchester: Like together-together?
Sam Winchester: Yeah.
Dean Winchester: [Horrified] They do know we're brothers, right?
Sam Winchester: Doesn't seem to matter.
Dean Winchester: Oh, come on, that... that's just sick...
But this time with England and America, maybe finding out the fanarts/doujin/kinkmeme, etc....but America doesn't actually...mind the whole "brothers" thing. Cue in sexy tiems.
(Also, if you actually manage to make this Supernatural!Hetalia AU, you can have my er, fourth born)
Seconded! XD this is win! *is tempted to do it but has other fills as well* >_
Vampire!Canada finally gets people to notice him. Unlike American vampires, he does not sparkle. (Although he still enjoys Tim Hortons coffee.)
I'd love to see a crossover between Hetalia and Ouran High School Host Club. Bonus points if it features America and Tamaki talking about justice together.
http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/10456.html?thread=19594456#t19594456
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