hetalia_kink | Hetalia kink meme part 24

Hmm. Would OP mind a short fill with Poland/America?

Would OP mind Poland/America?
shortish fill, with Poland giving Alfred a mani/pedi/spa day?

You, OP, have just hit upon two of my pet peeves: men (and it's always men) mistaking PMS for periods and authors (who are probably women themselves) hugely mischaracterizing the experience of being a woman.

Are you okay with genderbends? Can I add a pairing if it's a lesbian pairing? 'Cause I can see something with fem!America, Mattie as the flustered sidelined male, and maybe like fem!Prussia for Allie's girlfriend? Francis and Antonio could be counted on for the stupid remarks and Arthur can just fundamentally not understand females.

:D :D :D

Can I use my own symptoms?

:D :D :D

Do you have a preference for fem!Prussia names? I favor Giselle but Julchen has been floating around the fandom?

also, human AU okay or not? (I favor them too, the less hours I lose to wikipedia and history the better)

:D

Alfred's instant crush is the most adorable thing ever!

Does OP mean the OC!personification of the city in question, or just them doing things within the major city? Because I might be able to whip something up for America and San Francisco either way.

~~also, capcha is cities neologr. Huh, good catch there capcha.~~

Romano seriously didn’t know what was wrong with himself.

Lately, when he looked at Spain – when he was cooking, or doing the dishes, or even in bed – sometimes, his focus would suddenly veer off-track and he would be dragged into a little drama-esque flashback of how Spain had to wash his hands before sex even if it totally ruined the moment (“But I was vacuuming the floor before this! What if you had my fingers in your mouth and you got a stomachache or something – OUCH!”) or how Spain couldn’t sleep until his pillow was fluffed up just so. It was happening more and more often, and he knew Spain was catching on due to the concerned looks he threw in Romano’s direction every time he had to call his name to catch his attention. Of course, Romano refused to admit it. It would make him look like a soppy romantic pansy which he, God forbid, was not. No, he definitely wasn’t going to admit it.

Habits – Spain had tons of them. Once, he woke up in the middle of the night to find the space beside him empty and a light shining from under the bedroom door. Bleary-eyed and grumpy, he felt his way along the hall and stumbled across Spain in the living room, curled up on the couch and staring intently at his laptop with a goofy smile on his face. Romano stopped in his tracks, scrubbed at his eyes, and threw a cursory glance at the wall clock. “Dammit, you bastard! What the hell are you doing? It’s fucking four in the morning!” Spain looked up at Romano’s outburst and gave him his sunniest smile. “Romano! Come here and look at this!” Romano scowled but made his way over. “It’d better not be porn, you fucking tomato bastard…” He peered over Spain’s shoulder. No, it wasn’t porn. Romano was part relieved and part speechless as he stared at a Youtube video of two fluffy kittens playing with a ball of yarn. Spain beamed. “Aren’t they just adorable! I wanted to stop at two a.m., but they were so cute that I kept clicking on more links – oh, I’m sorry, Romano, did you miss me? I’ll be right to bed so don’t worry~”

Romano went to bed that night fuming. Spain continued doing it anyway.

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this is anon's first time doing this pairing and her first time posting here... /shy, goes back to corner

And then there was Spain’s habit of waking up at the crack of dawn every Saturday to go down to the beach. Often, this included dragging a half-asleep Romano along with him. What for? To visit the goddamn turtles, of course.

“Hola, cuties!” Spain cooed as he crouched down on the sand, next to a nest full of the God-awful wriggling things. Romano stayed a sensible distance away, grumbling and shivering in the chilly morning air. He didn’t get why Spain liked those slimy creatures that liked to crawl all over his shoes, let alone pick them up and let them nibble on his fingers – he shuddered. Just the thought was giving him the creeps.

“Romano!” He looked up at Spain’s voice – and found himself staring right into the beady eyes of a baby sea turtle. What came out of Romano’s mouth was a strangled combination of a scream and a loud “FUCK DAMMIT!”. He stumbled backwards but succeeded in tripping over his own feet and landed with a not-so-painless thump. Spain was holding his sides, practically doubled over with laughter, and the confused baby was crawling towards him. Romano let out another yell and scrambled to his feet. “Fuck, Spain! Get that thing away from me! SPAIN, YOU GODDAMN BASTARD!!” His voice rose almost a full octave as he backed away. Still chuckling and wiping the tears from his eyes, Spain caught the baby turtle and returned it to its nest, then returned to where Romano was shaking in his shoes, a suitably chastened look on his face. “Romano, are you okay? I’m sorry, I just couldn’t resist–” Romano had thrown himself at Spain, curses muffled by his shirt, sniffling. Spain never did it again, but continued to visit the goddamn turtles every fucking Saturday. Needless to say, Romano had given Spain the cold shoulder for the rest of the day, but well, who could complain about makeup sex?

“-omano? Romano!” Romano snapped out of his reverie with a jolt. Spain was staring down at him with furrowed brows. “W-What, bastard?” he snapped, cheeks reddening. “I said, lunch is ready. What’s with you these few days? You’re really out of it and you hardly pay attention to what I say!” Spain complained. Romano looked away, mumbling, “It’s nothing…” but Spain cut him off. “It can’t be nothing, you’ve been spacing out all week! Tell me what’s going on, Romano!” Romano continued to dodge the question and Spain continued to press him for an answer until Spain finally got fed up, pinned him to the couch and growled, “No lunch and no sex until you answer me!”

There was a silence, then Romano turned his head away and mumbled, “I-I was just thinking about your crazy weird habits… like how you like to watch fucking cats on Youtube in the middle of the night and how you have to visit the fucking turtles every fucking Saturday… I-It’s not that I was thinking about you, dammit! I still haven’t forgiven you for the fucking turtle–” he was abruptly silenced when Spain leaned down and gave him a long, hard kiss. When Spain pulled away, the both of them panting and Romano’s cheeks tomato red, he grinned and ruffled Romano’s hair. “Romano, you’re so adorable! Even the turtles can’t compare with you!”

“BASTARD!!” Romano’s embarrassed yell echoed around the apartment block.

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Author!Anon hopes OP likes this ;u;

I'm okay with genderbends. Fem!Prumerica would be lovely. Feel free to use your own symptoms. I don't have a particular name I prefer for fem!Prussia, so use whatever you like. Human AU is absolutely fine. I look forward to what you have in mind!

If it doesn't mess with your idea too much, could you try to add some canon female characters someplace? I like the Nyotalia women but it seems like the canon women get so little attention... Sorry, I know I should have mentioned a preference for canon in the original request, it completely slipped my mind. OTL

Would an artfill be okay? I don't have enough time to do this justice with words (though I'd also love to see a fiction fill), but I can do a detailed artfill.

But yeah, Alfred in cowboy attire. Ludwig and Prussia too. Antonio could be done in vaquero style. Francis would just be there, annoyed at the dust and horse boogers. I definitely see Arthur trying to look all gentlemanly.

I have done something similar: http://portions-for-foxes.deviantart.com/art/APH-Riding-Lesson-Final-158161620
(Just so OP knows I can draw horses)

And now a preemptive strike: please, for the love of God and all that is holy, do not call them assless chaps. All chaps are assless. They go over jeans. It's seriously like specifying that the neckline of a V-neck shirt is indeed shaped like a V.

(Also, yeah, what is with Europe and the Wild West? They've had it for a looooong time too. Like during the Old West. And they still have it!)

I love your story so much! I've read all the parts that you've posted and I find them amazing. Your writing surpasses that of a lot of fan fiction writers and even that of some professional writers. It is very descriptive and your word choice is also very admirable! Your storyline is so touching and at one point I even cried (which I rarely do when reading books). Your skills and talent become very apparent throughout this story since I was sympathizing with someone who committed morally unforgivable deeds (for me, cheating and having numerous one-night stands are unacceptable).

Thank you so much for posting this. I truly believe that you have talent to make it further than just publishing your work online.

To everyone who has just started reading this story: It is really worth your time!

I love your story so much! I've read all the parts that you've posted and I find them amazing. Your writing surpasses that of a lot of fan fiction writers and even that of some professional writers. It is very descriptive and your word choice is also very admirable! Your storyline is so touching and at one point I even cried (which I rarely do when reading books). Your skills and talent become very apparent throughout this story since I was sympathizing with someone who committed morally unforgivable deeds (for me, cheating and having numerous one-night stands are unacceptable).

Thank you so much for posting this. I truly believe that you have talent to make it further than just publishing your work online.

To everyone who has just started reading this story: It is truly worth your time!

Wow...Uh, I'm really, really flattered! I'm so glad you're enjoying it and thanks so much for your kind words!

The "fooding", so much lol-ness.

Anon also liked how Russia was being comparatively civil, but America was still being childish about their Cold War era feud.

This anon also likes more languages. Google translate is bad with grammar though, much less the gender differences.

Also, declension. German only has 4, but Russian has 6...at the very least. I'm not sure how many there are in English or French.

Ahhhh I really like this!!! It's wonderful and I cannot express how much I enjoy it so far, truly. I can't wait for the other two parts!! Also, a very happy new year to you, Author!anon! uvu <3333

wOW though this is so great though and I am really excited and I have a guess as to who Author!Anon is ahhhhhh impatience and happy and NEED THIS STORY AHHH HELP

Ohmygawd, really? I've never had an art fill before! You're amazing, anon! :D

You can draw whatever you want, as your ideas are all amazing, and I love your horses! A Mexican standoff would be awesome, but please feel free to draw whatever you'd like, as long as there's a cowboy!Al.

I hope OP will be happy with this! :) Happy new year everyone!!
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If England had to be honest, he didn’t like modern times so much. Yes, the new commodities were all nice and dandy, and yes, clothes were much more comfortable and didn’t itch so much anymore, but what England really missed was how much traditions actually had a meaning back in the good, old days.
At least once upon a time when alliances were made or something that needed the union of two nations happened, to write the other nation’s name down on the arm could be actually hid under long sleeves and long gloves whereas now to hid something so flashy needed a lot of thought and good excuses. England didn’t know why they had to carve each other name with a special ink on the arm, and he supposed it was just a way to show the alliance formed in question was actually agreed from both parts and couldn’t be taken back anymore. Better than a simple sign on paper, carve the agreement into the skin.
Now sex between nations had nothing to do with politics, and maybe, now that England thought about it, it never did but year after year, century after century it became more a personal fact than anything else, and, of course, something that should be bragged about.
America of course was the one that made it even worse, turning once again a tradition in a business. England hated those little flags the superpower had invented that could be stuck on whichever part of the human body one wished to and that could be found everywhere, even in a little caravan in the middle of the desert. Strangely enough, no nation found anything against continuing their tradition this way and, frustratingly enough, every nation found it was a wonderful idea to stick it on the forehead of all possible places.
England would have never imagined how gossipy the other nations were, and he was happy that he was the only one who didn’t give a damn if Spain walked around with Italy’s tricolor on his forehead and a stupid smile on his lips. He had to admit though that it was funny how the fact lead to misunderstandings, considering Romano and North Italy had a flag in common and could be deciphered in any way one wanted.
(He did give a damn though when France bragged about his conquests sticking flags all over his face at every fucking meeting the nations held.)
That was why the nations decided that they should write the name of the nation too on their forehead, besides the flag, to avoid mistakes. England hated the fact even more.
The first time, after the most stupid invention of the century (aka the flags), England spent his night with the nation he much detested (again) he did everything possible to avoid sticking that stupid tricolor and writing the other’s stupid name on his forehead. Said detested nation threw a fit and England had to remind the other that it had been a fling, nothing of importance, a one-night-stand that held no meaning but using it as a good reminder that alcohol wasn’t such a fun thing in the end.
Said nation had sniffed, had flipped his golden locks like the diva he was and had said:
“It’s tradition.”

And of course England was too much of a gentleman to ignore traditions and had put that damned blue, white, red, in that order, thing on his forehead in the end. England had let France write his own name under it, England didn’t shiver when he wrote ‘Arthur Kirkland’ on France’s forehead. France had grinned, told him to drink alcohol together more often and England kicked him, missed the other’s spine and had tried to conceal the thing under his blond bangs as better as he could. France showed the Union Jack with pride, and rumors galloped until England couldn’t take the taunting anymore and the:
“Oh, man! France? I thought you hated him! Was it good?”
England wondered if he should have acted sick and stayed in bed.
(Before he remembered that the bed was still warm, still smelled of roses and needed washing immediately because otherwise England couldn’t sleep in it anymore without instances of that night filling his dreams, which was something he didn’t absolutely want.)

When one day England found France wearing another nation’s flag on his forehead, England seriously thought he should be glad. England should be ecstatic that everybody forgot France had slept with him a mere week before. England should be happy that France forgot about him. So it was a surprise when he found himself doing nothing but swear inside, scowl at the world all day long, until he finally snapped, grabbed France by the shirt, took him away, somewhere they could talk in private without anyone interfering and had declared that the only flag France was allowed to wear was his Union Jack and nothing else because blue, white and red, in any order, in any shape were their colors and they shouldn’t forget it.
France had laughed, but had agreed in the end.
Unfortunately, England had to keep his end of the deal as well, and ended up sticking France’s flag on his forehead tomorrow, and the day after tomorrow, and the day after the day after tomorrow until it become clear to everybody but him that he could bloody tattoo the tricolor and Francis’ name on his forehead for all that it was worth because it was stupid to spend all their money on the same flag over and over again.
What was even worse was that France seemed to actually receive the message and actually started wearing England’s flag more often, until it was the only flag he owned.
(To say England was flattered was of course a lie, and England liked to lie to himself a lot.)
When one day Germany and Italy showed up wearing each other flag on their forehead for the first time, all attention diverted from France’s a little too often flings with England to the new scoop of the century. England was glad the mocking had passed, but wondered if France would now try to get his attention back by sleeping with another, unexpected nation the following night.
“Why would I do that?” France had said, “Do you think I care so much about what the other nations think?”
“You are an attention-whore after all.”
“I crave your attention.”
(And England didn’t blush, didn’t stutter and didn’t feel the infamous butterflies in his stomach.)
But, of course, France had to ruin everything, adding:
“And I already have that.”

England decided that he should stick Spain’s flag on his forehead just to spite him before he remembered that he didn’t like attention so much, that he didn’t want people to ask again why he slept with whoever he wanted.
The flag period didn’t last long. Soon enough everybody was bored by it and started wearing their earned flags somewhere most people couldn’t see. Few kept putting them on their foreheads and even fewer decided it should be a tradition that should be kept.
Regardless, the alliances had already been formed. When England looked up from his spot in the meeting room, France’s eyes always lock with his. There is mocking, and then soft, longing smiles.
“So… are you going to wear my flag tonight?”
“That’s the worst pick up line I ever heard.”
But no matter what England declared, it always worked and the island would always end up with France’s tricolor on his skin, and no matter how much he denied it, he felt proud to see his own flag hidden under blond locks.
England didn’t like the flashiness of modern times, but he had to admit he liked the way the little, annoying flags showed the world that France would always be his.

No problem! I can add in Belgium, Belarus, Hungary and Ukraine. Mattie can be dating Katya (who has no symptoms so he thinks his sister is just faking it). Unless OP dislikes that pairing. (and Alice easily can be Arthur) Does the OP have any desired side pairings for the canon girls?

If most of these characters were male but Wy and Seychelles were there, would that make up for it? Also, how do you feel about USUK? Nothing major, just an established relationship and a little cuddling -- definitely not the focus of the fic.

Further plot twist: America used to draw for the anime until everyone else got tired of his ~~crap~~ unique art style and booted him in favor of someone with a ~~better~~ different art style.

It's not cool to hijack others' prompts, anon.

OP here!

Arealfkdh;;asfhdkl I literally have no words. This was so incredibly hot (which makes me feel vaguely ashamed - but at least I won't be alone in hell, eh?). England was great as an inexperienced teenager, and the voyeur fairies were fantastic. ~~Plus it looks like England sure did have fun ;P~~

Thank you so much for writing!

The room was considerably quiet except for the hum of the TV and Korea’s singing. Yes, his rather shrill rendition of one of his pop groups’ latest hits. A Taiwanese drama serial was on TV and Taiwan herself was in front of it, clutching a box of tissues and sobbing her eyes out. Thailand was beside her, wiping tears from his own eyes and blowing his nose loudly. China let out the occasional sigh as he looked over a stack of reports. Japan calmly turned the page of his novel as he silently corrected himself – scratch that, it wasn’t quiet at all.

Finally, Hong Kong, who had been sitting in a corner with his game console, reached his limit and snapped at his siblings, “Will the two of you be quiet? I can barely hear my music!” Taiwan whirled around and retorted, “Well, why don’t you yap at Yong-Soo instead? I’m sure his singing bothers you more than we do!”

As the bickering between Taiwan and Hong Kong escalated, Thailand taking Taiwan’s side and Korea complaining loudly, China let out a particularly loud sigh and opened his mouth to chide them, but before he could say anything – “TICKLE FIGHT!” Korea yelled at the top of his voice and launched himself at his siblings.

All hell officially broke loose.

Within seconds, the four nations on the floor were writhing and letting out strangled noises as legs got tangled and fingers jabbed at sensitive flesh. China shook his head, “Seriously-aru, you all never seem to grow up – AIYAH!” he let out a yelp as Taiwan leapt at him, eyes shining with a mischievous light, and brought him tumbling to the floor. Within seconds, China was gasping and laughing and buried under the Taiwan-Hong Kong-Korea-Thailand pile of limbs. Japan looked over the top of the page, worried. He hoped that he wouldn’t get caught up in this. Perhaps he should leave the room…

“KIKU! COME JOIN US!” Korea yelled. Oh dear, too late.

As the other nations advanced on him, Japan felt an impending sense of doom. Desperately, he looked around the room, but could see no escape route. The next thing he knew, Korea was on him, yelling God-knows-what into his ear, fingers digging into his sides. Immediately, Japan screamed, threw his novel into the air, and shoved Korea off him with a strength he never knew he had.

There was a brief silence in which every other nation stared at Japan, wide-eyed and speechless. From his position on the floor, Korea gaped at him. Yes, Japan was extremely ticklish, and right now he felt like hiding his face in his hands, committing seppuku, running out of the room, or all three. Before he could act on it, though, Thailand let out a cry of delight and tackled him again, sending him crashing to the floor none too painlessly and knocking Thailand’s glasses askew. Suddenly, his siblings’ fingers were everywhere, and Japan couldn’t speak couldn’t scream couldn’t breathe, as he flailed his arms about just trying to get them to stop.

Hetalia kink meme part 24

possible filler

Re: Any/America - In terrible need of some affection

FILLER!!

Re: Loves Me Not [1/?]

Re: Any - interacting with an important city

Assuetudes (part 1/2)

Assuetudes (part 2/2)

OP

artist!Anon

Re: The Genius Next Door [1a/7]

Re: The Genius Next Door [1a/7]

Re: A!A

Re: The Millennium-long Barrier (Part 2c/2)

Beautiful!!!

Re: artist!Anon

Traditions part1/

Re: Traditions part2/

Re: Traditions part3/

Re: Traditions part4/

Re: OP

Differenet anon

Re: Any- as Hidekaz Himaruya

Re: Any- as Hidekaz Himaruya

Re: England/Unicorn - First Time (Part 1d/1)

Adorations (1/2)