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AU: France meets genderswitched!England during the 1980's when she is very much involved in the punk rock scene, and finds himself enamoured with her in spite of his shock at her dress sense and musical tastes.
Bonus points if you somehow fit in references to their respective bosses during the 1980's.
Bonus points if you somehow fit in references to their respective bosses during the 1980's.
DO WANT. Seconded like CRAZY.
I don't know if this has been asked for before, but: I want pissed off Austria loosing composture and telling Australia off for always being mistaken for him, Australia finds that RAEP is the only solution to shut him up u.u
Oh! and BONUS if the phrase NO MORE KANGOOROOS is used XD
America is finally overly concerned and worried about Canada's addiction to marijuana, so he takes them all away.
AND CANADA FLIPS OUT! Which causes him to be very sad and moody while he sits in the his room listening to Three Days Grace (cus they're the best Canadian band ever eh/shot)
Bonus points if Canada and America start arguing, going back and forth through different accents that they both share (for some reason Toronto just popped into my head)
Super bonus points if they start arguing in Cree, but then America gets flustered since he keeps forgetting words.
[by the way if it helps, OP's OTP is Canada/Russia, and Canada/America, yet not Russia/America, you can take that anyway you like.] ;D
AND CANADA FLIPS OUT! Which causes him to be very sad and moody while he sits in the his room listening to Three Days Grace (cus they're the best Canadian band ever eh/shot)
Bonus points if Canada and America start arguing, going back and forth through different accents that they both share (for some reason Toronto just popped into my head)
Super bonus points if they start arguing in Cree, but then America gets flustered since he keeps forgetting words.
[by the way if it helps, OP's OTP is Canada/Russia, and Canada/America, yet not Russia/America, you can take that anyway you like.] ;D
Seconded!
...First thing that came to mind 'Oh no! Now what will bring Americans to the Okanagan?'
...First thing that came to mind 'Oh no! Now what will bring Americans to the Okanagan?'
cuz I love the idea of America squirming and all uncomfortable~
(Anonymous) 2009-04-24 03:28 am (UTC)(link)UK/US phone sex. Now, I know that's been requested and wonderfully filled already, but what I want is, America being in public (not necessarily with people around, a break between a meeting and the next?) while England teases him/masturbates all comfy in his house and America has to deal with a potentially embarrassing situation because he has to go back soon... or run to the nearest slightly-more private space to carry on the conversation? your choice, anon~!
Bonus~ America made the first inappropriate comment and the whole situation started, in fact, because he wanted to tease Arthur
Bonus~ America made the first inappropriate comment and the whole situation started, in fact, because he wanted to tease Arthur
I've been holding out for so long D: So I'll just request it right now.
Russia/China - Rimming and finger-fucking
If you could manage to put in the 69 position that would be awesome!
Thanks.
Russia/China - Rimming and finger-fucking
If you could manage to put in the 69 position that would be awesome!
Thanks.
Not sure if this has been done before...but:
I want Canada. Singing this. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g_RPp4dbam8 Please. I don't care who to or why (though OP is partial to England or America...) and there doesn't need to be sex involved...Though if there is, I would very much like Canada on top please. THIS SONG DEMANDS IT.
I want Canada. Singing this. http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=g_RPp4dbam8 Please. I don't care who to or why (though OP is partial to England or America...) and there doesn't need to be sex involved...Though if there is, I would very much like Canada on top please. THIS SONG DEMANDS IT.
OK, we've seen England fight the supernatural for America, now I want to see America fight the supernatural for England.
Premise is this: England makes some sort of Faustian contract/deal with the devil/Fae/sidhe/whatever for America's sake (its up to the author why and for what) and the payment is England. America is unaware of this unholy pact. And then when the time comes for the payment, England disappears without a trace. America eventually finds out about England's disappearance and searches for him (with help from other nations, maybe), finds out about the contract somehow and goes off tobe a hero/knight/save bring back England.
Bonus if:
A) Alfred somehow have to prove himself worthy to get England back.
B) The day before the contract is up, England spends time with America, who is his usual jerk self. England is unusually tolerant of this, much to Alfred's surprise and he eventually softens and they watch a (scary) movie. Cue England sleeping with him. Sexy tiems is optional, but I want that when its time to go, England kisses the still-sleeping America on the brow.
Please, please, anons?
(whoa. detailed request is detailed)
Premise is this: England makes some sort of Faustian contract/deal with the devil/Fae/sidhe/whatever for America's sake (its up to the author why and for what) and the payment is England. America is unaware of this unholy pact. And then when the time comes for the payment, England disappears without a trace. America eventually finds out about England's disappearance and searches for him (with help from other nations, maybe), finds out about the contract somehow and goes off to
Bonus if:
A) Alfred somehow have to prove himself worthy to get England back.
B) The day before the contract is up, England spends time with America, who is his usual jerk self. England is unusually tolerant of this, much to Alfred's surprise and he eventually softens and they watch a (scary) movie. Cue England sleeping with him. Sexy tiems is optional, but I want that when its time to go, England kisses the still-sleeping America on the brow.
Please, please, anons?
(whoa. detailed request is detailed)
All right, I think I have enough material and research to at least start on this story. I’ll do my best to try and update at least once a day, if not more.
I don’t know if this will be as epic as my last story, and there are definite differences that I’m still uncertain of, and there will be crossovers here as well (though I’ll try to make them more subtle than last time). But I certainly hope that you will enjoy it, anyway.
___
Prologue
Hallow’s Eve
For once when I'd a huntin' gone,
twas fray my horse I fell.
The Queen o' Faeries she caught me,
in yon green hill ta dwell.
-The Ballad of Tam Lin
___
Arthur’s eyes flutter open when Alfred snores in his ear and shifts closer to him. He doesn’t complain, though, when he looks up at the clock, when his eyes clear enough to see that it’s 3:27 AM.
I have to leave now, if I’m going to get there on time.
Arthur slips out of Alfred’s grip, careful and slow; he slips a pillow into Alfred’s arms to hold so that he doesn’t wake. He moves about the room with quiet, deliberate movements, gathering his clothes and slipping them back on, taking care not to rustle them too much.
He bends down one last time to grab his shirt, but when he pulls his hand back up he finds he’s grabbed Alfred’s bomber jacket instead. He hesitates, his fingers curling into the leather; he brings it to his nose and inhales, smelling hamburger grease and old cologne and Alfred.
As if on cue, Alfred shifts on the bed behind him and sighs. Arthur doesn’t turn around, because if he sees Alfred like that – peaceful, lips parted, eyes twitching under eyelids – he knows he won’t be able to go through with this.
But I have to. I made a promise.
Arthur bites his lip hard enough to bleed and drops the jacket; he searches on the ground again, coming up triumphant when he finds his button-up plaid fleece. He slides it over his shoulders and buttons it, his movements methodical and efficient.
He moves to the closet, sorts through the clothes he has hanging; when he pulls away, he’s holding his conjuring cape, the material warm and slinky beneath his fingers. He drapes it over his shoulders, ties the strings into a knot, and pulls the hood over his head.
He’s ready now. All he needs to do is go out into the Catskill Mountains, let himself be swallowed by America’s deep forests that hold more power than Alfred knows.
The sunrise is coming; the Queen and her entourage will come for him soon. He must make haste.
He pauses, and in a moment of weakness he turns back to the bed. Alfred’s lips twitch up into a smile; the miasma of darkness that surrounded him is gone, just as the Queen had promised him.
His resolve slips further; Arthur moves to the bedside, runs his fingertips through Alfred’s hair. Alfred hums, trying to shift up into the barely-there touch.
I’m so sorry, Arthur thinks to himself as he leans down and presses a slow, gentle kiss to Alfred’s forehead. You will never understand. But maybe it’s better that way.
Alfred moans, eyelids twitching. Arthur moves away, quick and skittish, making his way to the cabin’s front door and closing it gently behind him when he steps out into the crisp autumnal morning.
It’s dark in the woods, though the sky is brightening enough that he can see the mist surrounding the trees. Arthur shuts his eyes and allows himself to feel. The night still holds magic, strong and powerful, and hers should be the strongest.
There.
Arthur steps on pine needles and dirt as he lets their trunks swallow him up, following Mab’s magic and whatever his future has in store.
___
An entire ocean and countless miles away, Feliciano walks with Francis, Lovino, and Antonio through the Fontainblane Woods, excitement humming through every atom of his body.
“Ve, ve! Is the sunrise really as pretty as you say it is, Francis?” Feliciano asks, latching onto Francis’ arm and making the other chuckle.
“Oui, it is. I think you will enjoy it.”
Feliciano cocks his head. Francis isn’t looking at him, and even though he’s smiling there’s a little bit of sadness in those blue eyes. Curious, he opens his mouth to ask why, when –
“I can’t believe you dragged me out of bed for this!”
I don’t know if this will be as epic as my last story, and there are definite differences that I’m still uncertain of, and there will be crossovers here as well (though I’ll try to make them more subtle than last time). But I certainly hope that you will enjoy it, anyway.
___
Prologue
Hallow’s Eve
For once when I'd a huntin' gone,
twas fray my horse I fell.
The Queen o' Faeries she caught me,
in yon green hill ta dwell.
-The Ballad of Tam Lin
___
Arthur’s eyes flutter open when Alfred snores in his ear and shifts closer to him. He doesn’t complain, though, when he looks up at the clock, when his eyes clear enough to see that it’s 3:27 AM.
I have to leave now, if I’m going to get there on time.
Arthur slips out of Alfred’s grip, careful and slow; he slips a pillow into Alfred’s arms to hold so that he doesn’t wake. He moves about the room with quiet, deliberate movements, gathering his clothes and slipping them back on, taking care not to rustle them too much.
He bends down one last time to grab his shirt, but when he pulls his hand back up he finds he’s grabbed Alfred’s bomber jacket instead. He hesitates, his fingers curling into the leather; he brings it to his nose and inhales, smelling hamburger grease and old cologne and Alfred.
As if on cue, Alfred shifts on the bed behind him and sighs. Arthur doesn’t turn around, because if he sees Alfred like that – peaceful, lips parted, eyes twitching under eyelids – he knows he won’t be able to go through with this.
But I have to. I made a promise.
Arthur bites his lip hard enough to bleed and drops the jacket; he searches on the ground again, coming up triumphant when he finds his button-up plaid fleece. He slides it over his shoulders and buttons it, his movements methodical and efficient.
He moves to the closet, sorts through the clothes he has hanging; when he pulls away, he’s holding his conjuring cape, the material warm and slinky beneath his fingers. He drapes it over his shoulders, ties the strings into a knot, and pulls the hood over his head.
He’s ready now. All he needs to do is go out into the Catskill Mountains, let himself be swallowed by America’s deep forests that hold more power than Alfred knows.
The sunrise is coming; the Queen and her entourage will come for him soon. He must make haste.
He pauses, and in a moment of weakness he turns back to the bed. Alfred’s lips twitch up into a smile; the miasma of darkness that surrounded him is gone, just as the Queen had promised him.
His resolve slips further; Arthur moves to the bedside, runs his fingertips through Alfred’s hair. Alfred hums, trying to shift up into the barely-there touch.
I’m so sorry, Arthur thinks to himself as he leans down and presses a slow, gentle kiss to Alfred’s forehead. You will never understand. But maybe it’s better that way.
Alfred moans, eyelids twitching. Arthur moves away, quick and skittish, making his way to the cabin’s front door and closing it gently behind him when he steps out into the crisp autumnal morning.
It’s dark in the woods, though the sky is brightening enough that he can see the mist surrounding the trees. Arthur shuts his eyes and allows himself to feel. The night still holds magic, strong and powerful, and hers should be the strongest.
There.
Arthur steps on pine needles and dirt as he lets their trunks swallow him up, following Mab’s magic and whatever his future has in store.
___
An entire ocean and countless miles away, Feliciano walks with Francis, Lovino, and Antonio through the Fontainblane Woods, excitement humming through every atom of his body.
“Ve, ve! Is the sunrise really as pretty as you say it is, Francis?” Feliciano asks, latching onto Francis’ arm and making the other chuckle.
“Oui, it is. I think you will enjoy it.”
Feliciano cocks his head. Francis isn’t looking at him, and even though he’s smiling there’s a little bit of sadness in those blue eyes. Curious, he opens his mouth to ask why, when –
“I can’t believe you dragged me out of bed for this!”
Re: The Awesome White Knight in Shining Armor [US x UK]
(Anonymous) - 2009-05-12 19:50 (UTC) - ExpandEngland comforts a nearly mentally-cracked, bloodstained France after he commits a murder/assassination of an important figure during the French Revolution.
I'll be happy even if it's just an embrace or kiss..
I'll be happy even if it's just an embrace or kiss..
http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/9482.html?thread=11817482#t11817482
Prussia x North Italy, Stuffing/fattening -
While "West" prefers his Italy to be in shape, Prussia finds that he likes Italy with a little more meat on him, taking advantage of his bottomless pit of a stomach. Of course, his plan winds up in trouble once his brother begins to suspect something, and Veneziano can't quite remain oblivious forever...
B: Romano involved somewhere in the story, and Prussia winds up getting too enthusiastic and rough with Italy while force-feeding him, culminating in a tearful breakdown due to his stomachache. Either set of character names is fine, though Anon prefers there be drama/creepy and hurt-comfort definitely mixed into the storypoor Italy
While "West" prefers his Italy to be in shape, Prussia finds that he likes Italy with a little more meat on him, taking advantage of his bottomless pit of a stomach. Of course, his plan winds up in trouble once his brother begins to suspect something, and Veneziano can't quite remain oblivious forever...
B: Romano involved somewhere in the story, and Prussia winds up getting too enthusiastic and rough with Italy while force-feeding him, culminating in a tearful breakdown due to his stomachache. Either set of character names is fine, though Anon prefers there be drama/creepy and hurt-comfort definitely mixed into the story
Either way seconded, cause I love prutalia.
Russia/America/Canada/Cuba in a messy complicated foursome relationship.
I wish to see batshit crazy HOT France topping the hell out of batshit crazy HOT Quebec!Canada.
As in, somehow both of them flipped out and went crazy. Can be initiated when they started fighting to top one another and it turned brutal!violent.
B: LOTS and LOTS of French profanities.
The exact happenings and details? Totally up to you, writers~ Have fun~~~<3
As in, somehow both of them flipped out and went crazy. Can be initiated when they started fighting to top one another and it turned brutal!violent.
B: LOTS and LOTS of French profanities.
The exact happenings and details? Totally up to you, writers~ Have fun~~~<3
Just in today:
"Naked Japanese pop star arrested for public indecency after being found drunk and naked at a park in Tokyo, police have said.
The Kyodo news agency reported that the 34-year-old asked a police officer: "What's wrong with being naked?"
(http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/entertainment/8014237.stm)
BASED ON THIS:
Japan arrested wandering around Central Park after a G8 meeting completely starkers, and the USA & any other country/countries of your choice need to intervene or go bail him out and try to cover up this embarrassing diplomatic incident.
"What's wrong with being naked?" must be said at some point!
Bonus!: England (with his history of public indecency) joins Japan in his naked walk around the park.
"Naked Japanese pop star arrested for public indecency after being found drunk and naked at a park in Tokyo, police have said.
The Kyodo news agency reported that the 34-year-old asked a police officer: "What's wrong with being naked?"
(http://news.bbc.co.uk/2/hi/entertainment/8014237.stm)
BASED ON THIS:
Japan arrested wandering around Central Park after a G8 meeting completely starkers, and the USA & any other country/countries of your choice need to intervene or go bail him out and try to cover up this embarrassing diplomatic incident.
"What's wrong with being naked?" must be said at some point!
Bonus!: England (with his history of public indecency) joins Japan in his naked walk around the park.
ANY PAIRINGS ARE WELCOME. Scenario is as follows:
The nations staying the night at a hotel after one meeting or another. Everyone's divided into rooms of two, with really thin walls. One pair overhears another one having sex and decides to beat them in loudness, leading to a chain reaction of very, very loud sex. Feel free to add in as many couples as you want.
Bonus: the competition is broken off/won by an incredibly loud moan from a very unlikely bottom.
Gah. I hope someone understood what I'm getting at. -__- Please? Make it hot and cracky.
The nations staying the night at a hotel after one meeting or another. Everyone's divided into rooms of two, with really thin walls. One pair overhears another one having sex and decides to beat them in loudness, leading to a chain reaction of very, very loud sex. Feel free to add in as many couples as you want.
Bonus: the competition is broken off/won by an incredibly loud moan from a very unlikely bottom.
Gah. I hope someone understood what I'm getting at. -__- Please? Make it hot and cracky.
Sorry, Anon went with canon pairings to make things easier.
------------------------
“Ungh! Oh, Alfred!”
Arthur was screaming at the top of his lungs as the American mercilessly thrust into his body, his penis sliding back and forth through his hole.
“A-ah! Oh-oh Alfreee---aaanh!”
Arthur was close; his hands were clawing at Alfred’s back, trying to hold himself back from the orgasm that awaited him—
“Gawd! Ah!”
What the—Arthur looked up at Alfred to see the American panting with his hips moving slowly.
“Alfred, I know it feels good but you don’t have to scream…”
Alfred looked curiously down at the English man as if his ‘father’ or whatever seemed to be hearing things.
“Oi, Arthur, I thought you were the one that—“
“OH! There! Again…! F-Francis!”
That was something. When Arthur and Alfred heard who’s voice that was, Alfred went limp and Arthur stared at the wall, mouth agape.
“N-no way…” Arthur stuttered, trying to keep his sanity intact, “M-Matthew is a g-g-good b-boy… he wouldn’t do s-such a thing with that-that bastard— AH!“
Alfred suddenly began to thrust his hips harder into the man below him, eliciting sweet moans and screams from the English man.
“A-Alfred you dumba-aah..! What are you—ah—doing!?”
Alfred continued to thrust into Arthur and gave a wink to the man below. “I can’t let my brother win this!”
--------------------
“Su-san…! I can still hear them!”
Tino placed a pillow around his head to cover his ears from the sound that came from their neighbors.
“Wh-why don’t they stop screaming? I-isn’t it more e-embarrassing for them to scream like that in public!?” Berwald turned around to see his wife, sitting on the bed with his legs pressed firmly together… fidgeting.
“Wha’s wrong ‘ere?” Berwald stepped closer to Tino, his glare shooting right through the boy.
“Su-san, it-it’s nothing, I swear! W-wait, don’t--!” the Swede used his hands to pry open Tino’s lap, to see that the boy’s cock was pulsating through his pants, his face was incredibly flush, Tino trying to use his hands to cover himself.
Then Berwald did the strangest thing, a smirk played over his lips as he continued to glare down at his wife.
“Why didn’ you say anythin’ earlier?”
------------------------
“Those shit heads!”
Lovino was pacing across the room, while Antonio sat on a big chair by a little table, watching the Italian make laps.
“Well, Lovi, they’re just… expressing their love aren’t they?”
Antonio leaned on the back of his chair, watching as the Italian turned around to face him, Lovino’s cheeks an impossible shade of red.
Listening to the moans and screams that came from their neighbor, the Spaniard couldn’t help but think of how cute Lovi would be, wiggling on the bed, his cute little hands clutching to the bed sheets as he—
“Oi, oi, A-Antonio, you bastard what do you think you’re doing?”
Antonio was brought back to reality as he realized he managed to have pinned the Italian down, his body crushing Lovino’s.
“Uhm, Lovi, well….”
----------------------
------------------------
“Ungh! Oh, Alfred!”
Arthur was screaming at the top of his lungs as the American mercilessly thrust into his body, his penis sliding back and forth through his hole.
“A-ah! Oh-oh Alfreee---aaanh!”
Arthur was close; his hands were clawing at Alfred’s back, trying to hold himself back from the orgasm that awaited him—
“Gawd! Ah!”
What the—Arthur looked up at Alfred to see the American panting with his hips moving slowly.
“Alfred, I know it feels good but you don’t have to scream…”
Alfred looked curiously down at the English man as if his ‘father’ or whatever seemed to be hearing things.
“Oi, Arthur, I thought you were the one that—“
“OH! There! Again…! F-Francis!”
That was something. When Arthur and Alfred heard who’s voice that was, Alfred went limp and Arthur stared at the wall, mouth agape.
“N-no way…” Arthur stuttered, trying to keep his sanity intact, “M-Matthew is a g-g-good b-boy… he wouldn’t do s-such a thing with that-that bastard— AH!“
Alfred suddenly began to thrust his hips harder into the man below him, eliciting sweet moans and screams from the English man.
“A-Alfred you dumba-aah..! What are you—ah—doing!?”
Alfred continued to thrust into Arthur and gave a wink to the man below. “I can’t let my brother win this!”
--------------------
“Su-san…! I can still hear them!”
Tino placed a pillow around his head to cover his ears from the sound that came from their neighbors.
“Wh-why don’t they stop screaming? I-isn’t it more e-embarrassing for them to scream like that in public!?” Berwald turned around to see his wife, sitting on the bed with his legs pressed firmly together… fidgeting.
“Wha’s wrong ‘ere?” Berwald stepped closer to Tino, his glare shooting right through the boy.
“Su-san, it-it’s nothing, I swear! W-wait, don’t--!” the Swede used his hands to pry open Tino’s lap, to see that the boy’s cock was pulsating through his pants, his face was incredibly flush, Tino trying to use his hands to cover himself.
Then Berwald did the strangest thing, a smirk played over his lips as he continued to glare down at his wife.
“Why didn’ you say anythin’ earlier?”
------------------------
“Those shit heads!”
Lovino was pacing across the room, while Antonio sat on a big chair by a little table, watching the Italian make laps.
“Well, Lovi, they’re just… expressing their love aren’t they?”
Antonio leaned on the back of his chair, watching as the Italian turned around to face him, Lovino’s cheeks an impossible shade of red.
Listening to the moans and screams that came from their neighbor, the Spaniard couldn’t help but think of how cute Lovi would be, wiggling on the bed, his cute little hands clutching to the bed sheets as he—
“Oi, oi, A-Antonio, you bastard what do you think you’re doing?”
Antonio was brought back to reality as he realized he managed to have pinned the Italian down, his body crushing Lovino’s.
“Uhm, Lovi, well….”
----------------------
We had America and Canada changing glasses and personalities, so let's see America and Sweden do the same.
so lately I saw some japanxtaiwan mads on youtube like this one http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=h4G7dwwBakI&feature=related or this http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-9sO_2m_fYI&feature=related and now I seem to have a soft spot for this pairing
so my request is something fluffy or angsty with japan/taiwan, I don't have a specific plot so I'll leave it up to anon
so my request is something fluffy or angsty with japan/taiwan, I don't have a specific plot so I'll leave it up to anon
http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/17465.html?thread=57056313#t57056313
America/England
England is hurt by America's 'isolationism' in the 1920s and 1930s, and thinks America is no longer interested in him. England is especially disappointed with America's lack of support for him against Hitler. E.g. in a Gallup Poll in 1939, 83% Americans voted 'no' in response to whether America should help England (and France) in a war against Germany and Italy.
Alfred, despite his people's feelings, is actually still in love with England, and sets out to rectify his personal relationship with Arthur, trying to make it clear that he still deeply cares for Arthur although he can't do anything to break out of government's policy of isolationism. Angsty, but ends in understanding, make up sex please?
England is hurt by America's 'isolationism' in the 1920s and 1930s, and thinks America is no longer interested in him. England is especially disappointed with America's lack of support for him against Hitler. E.g. in a Gallup Poll in 1939, 83% Americans voted 'no' in response to whether America should help England (and France) in a war against Germany and Italy.
Alfred, despite his people's feelings, is actually still in love with England, and sets out to rectify his personal relationship with Arthur, trying to make it clear that he still deeply cares for Arthur although he can't do anything to break out of government's policy of isolationism. Angsty, but ends in understanding, make up sex please?
Northern England/Southern England. Arguing.
This anon isn't really looking for anything smutty as such. If you want to, anon, then go ahead- I'm just really interested to see how they'd interact. :D
This anon isn't really looking for anything smutty as such. If you want to, anon, then go ahead- I'm just really interested to see how they'd interact. :D
America stumbles across the private diary England kept during the American Revolutionary War, and being America, he reads it anyway, and is deeply moved by the anguish and sadness expressed by England in his entries.
Bonus points if England catches him red-handed and starts yelling, FURIOUS, ..before he catches sight of America crying. And if it all ends up in needy!sexy tiems
Bonus points if England catches him red-handed and starts yelling, FURIOUS, ..before he catches sight of America crying. And if it all ends up in needy!sexy tiems
author!anon gave it a try, though she has to admit she's not completely satisfied with this. anyway, I hope OP likes! ♥♥ I kept the diary entries purposely vague, since I am anything but an expert on the American Revolution. Bonus points for whoever can figure out who Arthur is talking to in his entries (well, apart from Alfred, obviously). Human/nation names used interchangeably and overuse of parentheses~
APRIL 2009.
Alfred, to be quite honest, had been feeling out of it lately. The fact was, every time someone uttered the word economy, he felt as if he had been slapped in the face especially hard; it was all too familiar of the so-called 'Great Depression' of the 30s (god, what an awful time that had been; everyone had hated his guts back then). And even if early estimates were coming back positive, even if people (important people) were saying that if everyone was careful maybe this whole mess would be over in a year and then some, Alfred didn't dare hope much. He still couldn't quite look his fellow nations in the face, either. Once again.
Well, at least France was too angry with him to demand he hand over his ass for personal use this time around. His boss didn't really like Alfred (or America's new boss) at all, either.
However depressed he was though, he still felt like punching Russia's face in (see, you've failed again, you let everyone down once more that face said). And maybe China as well. Damn China with his stupid-face pandas and shitty loans.
Alfred would never admit it (most of the time not even to himself) but he needed Arthur, had always had, especially at times like this one. Arthur, thankfully, didn't seem to realize how much his presence calmed America, nor how much the younger nation invested on him emotionally. And Alfred just couldn't bring himself to voice those feelings, not to the man he'd broken off from so long ago. No matter how better things were between them now, ever since they'd worked together in the World Wars, no matter how 'special' their relationship was considered.
So he visited Arthur, lied about the whys, disguised his uneasy, anxious mood with a smirk on his face and snarky jabs at England's cooking and the eyebrows (honestly, he didn't even have to try; Arthur gave him so many openings).
Currently, he was sprawled lazily in one of Arthur's stuffy chairs, in Arthur's study, already feeling so much better, despite the glares he had received the moment Arthur had answered the door and seen him on his doorstep.
"Alfred, is there a point to this? Bloody hell, I am busy enough cleaning up the mess you made, again, without having to put up with those childish tantrums of yours-"
"Hey! It's not childish; you're just too old, Iggy~"
"...I don't even know why I bother." Arthur grumbled, nose scrunching adorably in distaste (yet another reason he couldn't help himself; Arthur's reactions were just so cute). Alfred realized this was a bad time for him as well, so he had expected him too be less patient this time. But wasn't he always like this? When it came to America, at least.
Right on cue, Arthur's cellphone started ringing; Alfred had to smother his snorts of laughter with the back of his palm pressed across his lips. That ringtone never got old. Arthur threw him an irritated glance that did nothing but set him off again before answering.
APRIL 2009.
Alfred, to be quite honest, had been feeling out of it lately. The fact was, every time someone uttered the word economy, he felt as if he had been slapped in the face especially hard; it was all too familiar of the so-called 'Great Depression' of the 30s (god, what an awful time that had been; everyone had hated his guts back then). And even if early estimates were coming back positive, even if people (important people) were saying that if everyone was careful maybe this whole mess would be over in a year and then some, Alfred didn't dare hope much. He still couldn't quite look his fellow nations in the face, either. Once again.
Well, at least France was too angry with him to demand he hand over his ass for personal use this time around. His boss didn't really like Alfred (or America's new boss) at all, either.
However depressed he was though, he still felt like punching Russia's face in (see, you've failed again, you let everyone down once more that face said). And maybe China as well. Damn China with his stupid-face pandas and shitty loans.
Alfred would never admit it (most of the time not even to himself) but he needed Arthur, had always had, especially at times like this one. Arthur, thankfully, didn't seem to realize how much his presence calmed America, nor how much the younger nation invested on him emotionally. And Alfred just couldn't bring himself to voice those feelings, not to the man he'd broken off from so long ago. No matter how better things were between them now, ever since they'd worked together in the World Wars, no matter how 'special' their relationship was considered.
So he visited Arthur, lied about the whys, disguised his uneasy, anxious mood with a smirk on his face and snarky jabs at England's cooking and the eyebrows (honestly, he didn't even have to try; Arthur gave him so many openings).
Currently, he was sprawled lazily in one of Arthur's stuffy chairs, in Arthur's study, already feeling so much better, despite the glares he had received the moment Arthur had answered the door and seen him on his doorstep.
"Alfred, is there a point to this? Bloody hell, I am busy enough cleaning up the mess you made, again, without having to put up with those childish tantrums of yours-"
"Hey! It's not childish; you're just too old, Iggy~"
"...I don't even know why I bother." Arthur grumbled, nose scrunching adorably in distaste (yet another reason he couldn't help himself; Arthur's reactions were just so cute). Alfred realized this was a bad time for him as well, so he had expected him too be less patient this time. But wasn't he always like this? When it came to America, at least.
Right on cue, Arthur's cellphone started ringing; Alfred had to smother his snorts of laughter with the back of his palm pressed across his lips. That ringtone never got old. Arthur threw him an irritated glance that did nothing but set him off again before answering.
Human AU! WWI as a vicious, nasty, no-holds-barred custody battle between bitter!exes!France and Germany over their kids, Alsace and Lorraine. Guess who gets hurt most by the fight? Realistically horrific divorce proceedings. (Fem.France, plz.) (Other allies/axis powers can be lawyers perhaps? But I really want the focus on France and Germany.)
I just saw an episode of Simposons, in which Homer approched the English queen with the words(freely quoted, mind you!): "I know we Americans are your rude children who never calls back, and we're not as nice as our brother Canada - who, by the way, has never had a girlfriend - but we're good."
US/UK Alfred and Matthew is having a conversation about Arthur, which he overhears. He enjoys listening to his boys praising him (and doing the opposite, too), but then Alfred insults the English queen. Arthur gets furious, and Alfred has to make it up to him somehow.
US/UK Alfred and Matthew is having a conversation about Arthur, which he overhears. He enjoys listening to his boys praising him (and doing the opposite, too), but then Alfred insults the English queen. Arthur gets furious, and Alfred has to make it up to him somehow.
Ah, I hope this hasn't already been requested yet!
AU! Japan and Greece are cats. Not catboys. Not catgirls. Just cats. They come from different lands, but somehow meet! I want to see a day with Cat!Greece and Cat!Japan! You can use meow-speak as a foreign language...
BONUS: I wanna see some fish catching or something. Because Japan likes fish, and as far as I can remember, so does Greece (at least they did in the place I visited). Bonus!bonus if Japan says he won't eat the fish because it isn't from Tsukiji or they GET there fish from Tsukiji (although I'd prefer it set in Greece).
AU! Japan and Greece are cats. Not catboys. Not catgirls. Just cats. They come from different lands, but somehow meet! I want to see a day with Cat!Greece and Cat!Japan! You can use meow-speak as a foreign language...
BONUS: I wanna see some fish catching or something. Because Japan likes fish, and as far as I can remember, so does Greece (at least they did in the place I visited). Bonus!bonus if Japan says he won't eat the fish because it isn't from Tsukiji or they GET there fish from Tsukiji (although I'd prefer it set in Greece).
http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/15769.html?thread=39125401#t39125401
I know it's almost summer but this is something I've wanted to see for a while. (I'm gonna say sorry ahead of time if this is somewhere on here and I missed it)
America takes another country to see an autumn in New England. Can be anyone or lead to anything.
America takes another country to see an autumn in New England. Can be anyone or lead to anything.
can be au. can be canon. canada can be fem or male.
America falling desperately in love with Canada and not realizing it. Then flips out when he comes to the conclusion.
If Canada is a guy, op would love to see America flipping out about his door swinging that way and tries to convince himself that he's not gay by asking England to kiss him to see if he likes it.
smut is go or no go-- up to anon. just lots of romantic and dorky!al moments.
America falling desperately in love with Canada and not realizing it. Then flips out when he comes to the conclusion.
If Canada is a guy, op would love to see America flipping out about his door swinging that way and tries to convince himself that he's not gay by asking England to kiss him to see if he likes it.
smut is go or no go-- up to anon. just lots of romantic and dorky!al moments.
I worked on this far longer than I meant to...
(read from left to right)
http://i40.tinypic.com/97uyx4.jpg
http://i44.tinypic.com/az6zy8.jpg
http://i41.tinypic.com/2gtri88.jpg
http://i39.tinypic.com/14tbh5c.jpg
Sorry if this is totally not something the OP wanted!
I'm still really hoping someone will fill this with a fic!!!
(read from left to right)
http://i40.tinypic.com/97uyx4.jpg
http://i44.tinypic.com/az6zy8.jpg
http://i41.tinypic.com/2gtri88.jpg
http://i39.tinypic.com/14tbh5c.jpg
Sorry if this is totally not something the OP wanted!
I'm still really hoping someone will fill this with a fic!!!
War of Awesomeness must commence!!! WHO'S AWESOMER?! PRUSSIA, CHUCK NORRIS, JACK BAUER, MR. T, OR (insert name here)!? I want to see a contest to prove who the most epic and awesome is! GO!
Big fat Russia was hoppin' around
The UN like a big playground
When suddenly America came to say
"God damn Russia, you need to get laid!"
Russia got pissed and began to attack
But didn't expect to be blocked by Zach(ary Taylor)
Who proceeded to open up a can of tofu
When Lily Allen came out of the blue.
(That's all I got D: )
The UN like a big playground
When suddenly America came to say
"God damn Russia, you need to get laid!"
Russia got pissed and began to attack
But didn't expect to be blocked by Zach(ary Taylor)
Who proceeded to open up a can of tofu
When Lily Allen came out of the blue.
(That's all I got D: )
Anon loves this and hopes everyone doesn't mind if she joins in on the fun~
(Anonymous) - 2009-05-10 13:09 (UTC) - ExpandEh, I know it's not a Hetalia!established country but...
RomaniaxAmerica! Because somebody needs to teach that asshole that vampires DO NOT sparkle!!!
(And come on, you KNOW you think Romania is a vampire too....)
All the Cullen-haters in the house say "Whoooah!"
RomaniaxAmerica! Because somebody needs to teach that asshole that vampires DO NOT sparkle!!!
(And come on, you KNOW you think Romania is a vampire too....)
All the Cullen-haters in the house say "Whoooah!"
Romanian anon from earlier - I simply couldn't pass this up since I think this is the first time someone ever requests Romania in this meme. See notes at the end for brief clarifications.
Romania gave him a long, calculating stare, and America wondered briefly whether she'd understood him. Her English was a little odd, her accent clipped and the tendency to roll her R's made him slightly uncomfortable for some reason, but otherwise she spoke fairly well.
'I read it in a book,' he supplied, just to be sure. 'I thought it was cool.'
'America,' Romania said, very patiently. 'Vampires do not sparkle.'
The finality in her tone made him frown. America was not generally big on vampire lore, but he tended to believe that authors did some solid, believable research before they wrote anything. Otherwise, who in their right minds would publish them?
'Well, how do you know?'
Romania gave a short laugh. 'According to Mr. Stoker, I am supposed to be somewhat of an authority on the subject.' She pointed in the general direction of the Bran castle, which, America had to admit, looked properly ominous, even in broad daylight.
'You book is wrong.' she concluded. 'And so, I'm afraid, is Mr. Stoker's, although sometimes I do wonder whether we should build him a statue in front of our Trade Ministry building. Or name a street after him.'
America frowned. Surely Mr. Stoker at least had done some solid, believable research before writing his book? He was famous. He'd been famous longer than... what was her name again?
'Vlad did not sparkle.' Romania went on, her tone picking up an odd, vaguely grim note.'Twitch slightly, yes. Giggle to himself, of course. Run fifty people through with sharp sticks and then have lunch while listening to their agonized screams - well, that is historically documented. But he did not sparkle.'
'Cool,' America said a little absently, poking at a plastic mask hung from one of the stalls around them. It began to laugh darkly, and slightly mechanically, its eyes flashing red and eliciting the appearance of a jovial old man from behind the stall.
'For you, just fifteen dollars,' he said happily. Romania rolled her eyes.
'But hey,' America said a few moments later, the mask dangling from its elastic band around his neck, 'There has to be some truth in it, right? Otherwise you wouldn't be selling all these vampire t-shirts, and vampire mugs and vampire woodcuts and tiny fake silver knives and stuff. Um. Right? Why do you sell them anyway?'
'Because your people buy so much of it.' Romania caught his expression, and then began to laugh, honestly and not entirely unkindly.
'Come on,' she said, patting his arm 'I will treat you to some palinka.'
1. Romanians these days kind of make fun of foreigners who go 'ZOMG VAMPIRES!!1!' when visiting Bran Castle. I've been there four or five times and it tends to happen a lot. I think Romania would be very endearing to America about it.
2. Run fifty people through with sharp sticks and then have lunch while listening to their agonized screams - well, that is historically documented - it is. So is the fact that Vlad III 'The Impaler' has had some 80,000 people put to death during his rule, through such exciting methods as impalement, flaying, or driving iron nails through their skulls. Interestingly, the impalement part was a practice he picked up from the Turks, where it was fairly common, but it was Vlad who ended up being famous for it.
3. Aaah, Bran Castle. The famed Dracula's Castle has a permanent bazaar thing going on around the entrance, where they sell everything from hand-sewn traditional wear (very expensive) to Dracula-shaped plastic squeaky toys (probably made in China) And if the stall owners hear you speak English with an American accent, they will instantly up the prices three times. I'm sorry. This really does happen. History tends to limit itself to war and trade, and since we've had a strong tendency to have our asses kicked in every major conflict, there has to be one way to get back at people.
4. Palinka - if you don't know what that is, you need to book a vacation to Transylvania right now.
Romania gave him a long, calculating stare, and America wondered briefly whether she'd understood him. Her English was a little odd, her accent clipped and the tendency to roll her R's made him slightly uncomfortable for some reason, but otherwise she spoke fairly well.
'I read it in a book,' he supplied, just to be sure. 'I thought it was cool.'
'America,' Romania said, very patiently. 'Vampires do not sparkle.'
The finality in her tone made him frown. America was not generally big on vampire lore, but he tended to believe that authors did some solid, believable research before they wrote anything. Otherwise, who in their right minds would publish them?
'Well, how do you know?'
Romania gave a short laugh. 'According to Mr. Stoker, I am supposed to be somewhat of an authority on the subject.' She pointed in the general direction of the Bran castle, which, America had to admit, looked properly ominous, even in broad daylight.
'You book is wrong.' she concluded. 'And so, I'm afraid, is Mr. Stoker's, although sometimes I do wonder whether we should build him a statue in front of our Trade Ministry building. Or name a street after him.'
America frowned. Surely Mr. Stoker at least had done some solid, believable research before writing his book? He was famous. He'd been famous longer than... what was her name again?
'Vlad did not sparkle.' Romania went on, her tone picking up an odd, vaguely grim note.'Twitch slightly, yes. Giggle to himself, of course. Run fifty people through with sharp sticks and then have lunch while listening to their agonized screams - well, that is historically documented. But he did not sparkle.'
'Cool,' America said a little absently, poking at a plastic mask hung from one of the stalls around them. It began to laugh darkly, and slightly mechanically, its eyes flashing red and eliciting the appearance of a jovial old man from behind the stall.
'For you, just fifteen dollars,' he said happily. Romania rolled her eyes.
'But hey,' America said a few moments later, the mask dangling from its elastic band around his neck, 'There has to be some truth in it, right? Otherwise you wouldn't be selling all these vampire t-shirts, and vampire mugs and vampire woodcuts and tiny fake silver knives and stuff. Um. Right? Why do you sell them anyway?'
'Because your people buy so much of it.' Romania caught his expression, and then began to laugh, honestly and not entirely unkindly.
'Come on,' she said, patting his arm 'I will treat you to some palinka.'
1. Romanians these days kind of make fun of foreigners who go 'ZOMG VAMPIRES!!1!' when visiting Bran Castle. I've been there four or five times and it tends to happen a lot. I think Romania would be very endearing to America about it.
2. Run fifty people through with sharp sticks and then have lunch while listening to their agonized screams - well, that is historically documented - it is. So is the fact that Vlad III 'The Impaler' has had some 80,000 people put to death during his rule, through such exciting methods as impalement, flaying, or driving iron nails through their skulls. Interestingly, the impalement part was a practice he picked up from the Turks, where it was fairly common, but it was Vlad who ended up being famous for it.
3. Aaah, Bran Castle. The famed Dracula's Castle has a permanent bazaar thing going on around the entrance, where they sell everything from hand-sewn traditional wear (very expensive) to Dracula-shaped plastic squeaky toys (probably made in China) And if the stall owners hear you speak English with an American accent, they will instantly up the prices three times. I'm sorry. This really does happen. History tends to limit itself to war and trade, and since we've had a strong tendency to have our asses kicked in every major conflict, there has to be one way to get back at people.
4. Palinka - if you don't know what that is, you need to book a vacation to Transylvania right now.
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