#past fruk mention

[sunkern-plus]

Somehow I got trans people before gay people because when I was little I rationalized pleakley being a woman by thinking "pleakley was a man before but she didn't like it so she decided to dress as a woman so she liked it so she was a woman now and now she's a woman and married to jumba" but somehow didn't get that gay people existed until high school with...(shivers) fr.uk hetalia

[neufhistoires]

Loveless Marriage (FrUK) Chapter 11

Loveless Marriage

Chapter 11

Word Count: 4,496

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It had been about a week since Francis and Arthur spoke. They hadn’t really seen each other either because the Englishman made sure to leave before the Frenchman woke up or he would get home so late that the other man was already asleep. On days that Arthur didn’t leave the house, he would stay in his bedroom all day and complete work from there. Francis was starting to wonder if he was a ghost, if he didn’t even exist.

It was a miserable existence, but Francis used work as a distraction. He didn’t share his frustrations or embarrassing stories with Feliciano. Instead, he pretended like nothing bad happened, like he had no life problems and he was happy to be living abroad, working at a flower shop.

Escapism worked well for Francis until he returned home each night to either be alone or be ignored– he wasn’t sure which was worse at this point. Arthur wouldn’t even eat his food anymore, and Francis honestly had no clue where or what he was eating. He couldn’t help but feel a tinge of jealousy at the thought that the Englishman might be eating meals with someone else all day…

“How’s your fiancé?”

Francis was cutting flower stems in silence, something that he usually did while humming softly. He was working slower than usual, too, as if he was in some sort of trance, lost in deep thought about his recent misfortunes. However, he was pulled out of his thoughts when his perceptive coworker noticed a change in his body language.

“What?” Francis replied, a mix of surprise and sadness in his eyes when he heard someone bring up the very person he had been thinking about.

“You mentioned that you have a fiancé a few times before, so I was wondering how he is,” Feliciano replied softly, taking some of the flowers to help the Frenchman cut the stems.

Francis was quiet for a moment, motionless as he stared down at the stems.

“How is he..? I wonder that, too,” Francis murmured, his voice almost a whisper. Then, he suddenly returned to trimming the flower stems as if he hadn’t just froze for an abnormal amount of time.

Feliciano glanced over at the other man, who refused to make eye contact with him, with an empathetic look on his face. He wasn’t sure what happened, but he could tell that Francis was really upset because of something that happened between him and his fiancé. 

“Are you two fighting..?” Feliciano asked hesitantly, hoping he was prying into his coworker’s personal life too much.

“Something like that,” Francis replied, still keeping his gaze fixated on the flowers in his hands.

“Why don’t you bring him some flowers again? I’m sure it will ease the tension between you two, at least some, and then you can talk,” Feliciano suggested.

Francis finally made eye contact with Felciano as he started to seriously ponder the Italian man’s suggestion. He knew that it wouldn’t fix everything, but like Feliciano had said, it would probably release some tension and at least break the ice…

“D’accord, I’ll take your advice,” Francis replied, smiling warmly at Feliciano, who immediately mirrored his smile.

Francis returned home with a bouquet of red roses, just like he had given Arthur last time, and carefully arranged them in the same vase from before, which was still sitting on the kitchen counter. 

Arthur wasn’t home yet, but Francis decided that he would wait in the kitchen until he came home, that way he couldn’t avoid him or sneak past him.

The Frenchman prepared dinner, cooking for two even though Arthur had either been eating premade meals or someone else’s food. He figured that he would offer him dinner and roses and he wouldn’t be able to avoid talking to him for at least a little bit.

Hours passed and Francis couldn’t help but feel frustrated when he thought about how he cooked dinner for the other man but he was coming home at a terribly late time just to avoid him.

And that was exactly what happened. Francis ate dinner alone, which he let become cold because he had foolishly assumed that today might be the one day the Englishman would come home on time. After he put the leftovers away, he cleaned up the kitchen, scrubbing the counters and mopping the floor more times than it needed to be done in hopes that when Arthur came home and saw him he would just think that Francis was busy, not that he was waiting up all night for him.

Eventually, Francis sat back down at the table, exhausted and frustrated. He lay his head down on the table, telling himself that he would just rest for a second and then he would go back to finding things to clean, but… he passed out.

The quiet jingle of keys could be heard from outside, and then the front door opened. Arthur was surprised to see the kitchen light on so late. He tensed when he noticed the Frenchman sitting at the table, but then he did a double take when he realized he was passed out.

The Englishman stared at him for a few, his keys and bags still in hand as he tried to make sense of why the other man was sleeping on a kitchen chair instead of in his own bed. Then, as he glanced around the room, he noticed that the kitchen was spotless. Everything was clean and organized. The only thing that stood out was the bouquet of fresh, red roses, arranged beautifully in the intricate glass vase from before.

Arthur’s chest felt tight when he saw the flowers, recalling how Francis had bought him the same ones before. He must’ve been waiting up all night to talk to him, Arthur thought. He felt kind of guilty until he reminded himself why they weren’t speaking in the first place and his thoughts turned sour.

Carefully, Arthur slipped past the table, hoping he could avoid the other man like he had been. But, in spite of his efforts, the jingling of his keys as he passed by was enough to make the Frenchman open his eyes.

“Arthur..?” Francis called out groggily. He couldn’t believe he had stayed up so late and yet he still ended up passing out at the kitchen table, of all places.

The Englishman hesitated when he heard his name, but then continued in the other direction anyway.

“Arthur! Wait!” Francis called out, stumbling as he tried to stand up from the table after just waking up.

Arthur continued to walk away from Francis, picking up his pace some when he heard the sound of the other man’s footsteps behind him.

“We live in the same house– you can’t keep avoiding me like this..!” Francis called out, frantically chasing the Englishman up the staircase.

“It’s like I said– you disgust me and I don’t want to see or talk to you,” Arthur replied coldly as he stood still on the top step, his heart aching at the sound of his own words.

Francis felt a pain in his chest, too, when the first words out of the other man’s mouth were yet again ones of disdain. Could he truly never forgive him?

“Arthur, I want to apologize to you and–”

“No apology will fix what you did,” Arthur interrupted, abruptly turning around to face the Frenchman, a look of anger and hurt on his face as they locked eyes.

“And I want to clear up the… misunderstanding,” Francis finished his sentence anyway.

“Misunderstanding?” Arthur repeated with a sarcastic laugh.

“Oui, I…” Francis hesitated as he took a step closer to Arthur, moving up a step so they were eye level. “What happened at the hotel was…” The Frenchman’s eyes averted towards the ground.

“Yes?” Arthur urged, impatiently crossing his arms as his icy gaze never left the man across from him.

“It was meaningless. I was so drunk I can’t even remember what led to it, but I can assure you that I would never want to do something like that with you..! I mean– you and I, together in a relationship? Really? We can’t stand each other! It’s been driving me insane to think that you would even suggest that I would want to have sex with you..!” Francis blurted out, feeling like he was a star in some sort of cheesy highschool play.

He was lying through his teeth.

Arthur hadn’t moved at all, an unreadable expression on his face as he seemed to pause and contemplate what the other man just said. Francis watched the Englishman’s eyes impatiently, wondering what was going through his head, if he bought the act, or if that false information even meant anything to him.

Well, it was partially false information. It was true that Francis had been terribly drunk, that he couldn’t remember much, and that he wouldn’t force himself on Arthur. But the lie was that he didn’t want to be in a relationship with the other man. In fact, after their sham of a honeymoon getaway together, he couldn’t be anymore sure that he had feelings for the Brit.

“I wish you’d put it that way sooner,” Arthur replied, both his tone and gaze softening when he said so. Francis didn’t know if he should be relieved or heartbroken.

“The thought of you and I in a relationship is definitely laughable, isn’t it?” Arthur continued, a smile grazing his lips for the first time since they were in Seychelles.

Now he could at least identify how he felt as heartbreak.

“Oui, it’s truly a bizarre thought,” Francis replied unenthusiastically.

“Let’s put this behind us then…” Arthur started, his tone returning to a more serious one again. “But you’ve got to promise not to tell anyone what happened that night, okay? On that condition, we’ll just forget about the whole thing…”

“D’accord… I promise,” Francis agreed, trying his best to hide how deflated he suddenly felt. It was somehow a worse feeling than before, even though he was elated to talk to the other man again.

“Alright… Good night then,” Arthur replied dismissively, turning around and continuing upstairs without waiting for a response. He was probably hoping that he wouldn’t have to deal with Francis suggesting they share a bed again. Although, the Frenchman no longer had any intention of suggesting a thing like that.

Francis went to bed alone that night, conflicted about whether or not he made the right choice by lying like that. Sure, Arthur was willing to talk to him again, but at what cost..? 

It was much later than Francis usually woke up, and he probably would have continued sleeping, too, if he wasn’t awoken by a few knocks on his door.

“Francis?” A familiar voice called out, causing the Frenchman to slowly open his eyes and roll over on his side.

“Come in,” Francis replied with a groan. He had slept more than usual and yet he felt even more exhausted than usual. It was most likely because despite being in bed for so long, he hadn’t truly been sleeping the entire time. He stayed up the entire night, tossing and turning as he contemplated everything wrong in his life.

Francis was disgusted by the way Arthur could destroy his entire day just by stringing a few words together. The worst part was probably that the Englishman didn’t even realize he was doing it.

Arthur opened the door, fully dressed in trousers, a button down cardigan and loafers. He looked a bit irritated when his eyes slowly made their way down to the Frenchman who was still in bed.

“I was going to… ask if you wanted to come shopping with me today in London…” Arthur said, his thick eyebrows furrowing as he realized that if the other man said yes, he would be waiting forever for him to get ready.

The Frenchman held back his surprise and… excitement when he heard what the other man proposed. Yes, the way Arthur’s words could lift his mood in an instant disgusted him, too. When did he become this way? “I guess so… You probably need someone like me to go with you so you know what kind of things to buy…” Francis mumbled into his pillow, his attempt at seeming uninterested coming off as more of an insult.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Arthur asked, his eye twitching as he leaned against the doorway with his arms crossed. He was hoping that the Frenchman would get up and start getting ready sometime this year.

“Nothing,” Francis replied with a yawn as he finally sat up.

“Well, you’ll have to be ready soon though if you’re coming. I don’t want to have to drive home in the dark,” Arthur said, standing back up straight. “I’ll make you breakfast and you can eat it on the way or something…”

“Non, please don’t,” Francis replied so quickly that Arthur couldn’t help but be a little offended. Was it really that bad?

“Just hurry up,” Arthur said, his cheeks tinged red with embarrassment as he shut the door and headed back downstairs.

Surprisingly, Francis didn’t take too long to get ready and Arthur didn’t subject him to his awful cooking. The two of them headed off for London and the skies appeared to be bright and sunny.

Understandably, there was an awkward tension between the two of them, albeit for different reasons. However, without words, they both agreed to try and make things work. They cracked jokes and passive aggressively roasted each other until they got to the city. It was as though nothing had changed between them…

“What do you think of this one? It’s nice, isn’t it?” Arthur asked, his green eyes settling on the Frenchman as he lightly pulled on the bottom of a long, plaid trench coat that was hanging on a rack in front of him.

“Hm? That one?” Francis murmured, putting his hand on the coat, too. He seemed inattentive despite how long he gazed at the coat in front of him. His mind drifted off into thoughts about how Arthur’s hand was so close to his, how he swore he could feel warmth radiating from him.

Ultimately, the only quiet response Arthur was left with was, “It suits you.”

Then, Francis turned away and continued on in the same direction that the two of them had been walking in. Confused, Arthur looked back at Francis, then the coat again, and ended up pulling it off the rack to follow after the Frenchman.

“That’s not necessarily a compliment, you know? Is it a nice coat or isn’t it?” Arthur repeated his question, his cheeks tinged pink as he realized he was basically begging for the other man’s fashion advice.

Arthur ended up buying the coat and the two of them headed off to the next store that caught their eyes, a street fashion clothing store. It wasn’t particularly either one of their styles, but part of going into the city was seeing things that they usually didn’t see, right?

As they walked through the store, Arthur saw a pair of black, ripped, oversized jeans and ran over to them. He pulled them off the rack and held them up to his waist in front of a mirror to see what they looked like without the hassle of actually trying them on.

Francis slowly walked behind him, cocking an eyebrow in confusion as he stood behind the Englishman and watched him in the mirror. He soon realized that Arthur wasn’t actually considering buying the pants, but was just joking around. He heard him start to speak, a big grin on his face, but… he couldn’t hear him.

Something about the way Arthur was messing around, being so carefree and playful, as if no one else existed but the two of them… it reminded Francis of walking around Seychelles and taking stupid pictures in straw hats and gaudy sunglasses. He felt disgusted with himself for even considering it, but he wanted to cry. His heart ached at the thought that the Englishman didn’t return his feelings, that he would probably be elated if he never had to see him or deal with him again.

“Did you know that I wanted to be in a band when I was in high school?” Arthur mused, laughing at himself as he put the pants back on the rack.

“Oh? What stopped you?” Francis asked, his jaw clenched tight as he mentally talked himself out of suddenly crying. He would surely be worse off if he did something like that.

“My parents,” Arthur replied, his mood visibly becoming sour. “As you know, they like making choices for me,” He added, giving Francis a small smile.

“Oui, clearly mine do, too,” Francis replied weakly, assuming that Arthur was referring to the arranged marriage.

“Well, hopefully we won’t have to deal with this whole thing much longer. I heard from my parents that your family’s wine business is slowly, but surely, starting back up,” Arthur murmured, shifting through clothes on the racks as he passed by them.

“Oh, is that so? I didn’t know that,” Francis replied, his voice almost a whisper as he started to space out again. He couldn’t help but feel hurt that Arthur didn’t even seem to notice the way he hadn’t been paying attention…

“Really? They’re your parents…” Arthur replied, his eyebrows furrowed as he glanced over at the other man, who was looking down at a shirt in front of him. It didn’t look like the sort of shirt that would usually catch his eye, so the Englishman assumed that he had become bored of the store and zoned out.

“Anyway, do you want to go somewhere else now?” Arthur initiated, periwinkle eyes meeting his. “We passed a decent looking bakery on the way here. I think they might have had macarons.”

“Let’s go there then,” Francis replied so quickly that he made Arthur let out a small laugh.

“You could’ve told me that you were hungry..!”

“Well, I wasn’t hungry until you mentioned macarons,” Francis joked, his mood seeming to lift at the thought of food. Maybe he was just overthinking things because he had gotten hungry.

Nonchalantly, Francis looped his arm around Arthur’s arm and pulled him along out of the store. The Englishman didn’t seem to mind though because he left it there.

“Which way was it?” Francis asked, glancing down at the map Arthur had opened on his phone.

“It looks like it’s that way,” Arthur replied, struggling to point because he was holding his phone, shopping bags, and now Francis was clinging to his other arm.

They eventually found the bakery, which was rather extravagant and expensive, just as one would expect of a specialty bakery in a big city. It was a café as well, so they both ordered a cup of coffee and various different kinds of baked goods. Normally, Arthur would’ve gotten a tea, but he was trying to take Francis’s recommendations, because although he was reluctant to admit it, the Frenchman did have great taste.

They chose a window seat which gave them a nice view of the city around them. However, the sky that had been bright and sunny for the majority of the day had abruptly become gray and cloudy.

“I suppose I jinxed it by saying that I didn’t want to drive home in the dark,” Arthur mused. As soon as he finished his sentence, the sound of thunder rumbled through the bakery, causing the lights to dim for a moment. Then, a heavy rain started.

“Non, I think that there was jinxing it,” Francis replied with a small laugh before he took a sip of his coffee and turned to look out the window in awe. It was unbelievable how quickly the weather had changed.

“Well hopefully it will let up soon,” Arthur murmured, using the side of his fork to cut a piece of the pastry in front of him.

Once again, Arthur had jinxed it. The rain never let up, and eventually the two of them had been there too long. Hours had passed, the sun went down completely, and the bakery was going to close in less than a half an hour.

“Aren’t there any hotels nearby?” Francis asked, standing up. He started to clean up their table, stacking the garbage onto one plate so it would be easier for him to carry it over to the trash can.

“That’s what I’m looking for…” Arthur murmured, bent over his phone as he scrolled through lists of nearby hotels. “It looks like the closest hotel is a two minute walk away, but even so, we’ll still get drenched…”

“It seems that we’re going to get wet regardless, so you might as well call that one and see if they’ve got any rooms available,” Francis replied before he walked away with the garbage.

When Francis returned, Arthur had just finished up his phone call.

“They said they’ve got a room available and they’re willing to hold it for us if we make it there within the next fifteen minutes,” Arthur said as he stood up and started to collect his bags.

Francis gulped when he heard Arthur say they had a room available– a room. Just one? Was it really a good idea for the two of them to share a hotel room again?

“D’accord, let’s get going then,” Francis replied, grabbing his bags, too.

The rain never let up, so they were completely drenched when they reached the hotel. Somehow, running in the rain was kind of fun though.

“Mr. Bonnefoy-Kirkland?” The receptionist asked, making Arthur blush in embarrassment and Francis chuckle.

After the ceremony, they hadn’t been able to agree on who would take whose name, as both of them were reluctant to give up their own name. The only possible agreement they could come to was to use both of their names with a hyphen in alphabetical order. The alphabetical order part was Francis’s idea, of course.

“Yes, is the room available?” Arthur replied, reluctantly answering to the name.

“Yes, we have it all set up for you two,” The woman replied, a smile on her face as she handed Arthur the key.

“Thank you,” Arthur replied, swiping his card to pay for the room before the two of them went upstairs to find their room.

Eventually they found room 212, which was a rather large room– a luxury suite, to be exact. The only problem was that…

“What kind of joke is this?” Arthur asked loudly, his voice shaking as if he was terribly offended by what was in front of him.

There was only one bed.

Francis let out a heavy sigh and set his bags down on the floor.

“Well, what did you say to the receptionist on the phone?” Francis asked, mostly due to his own curiosity. Did Arthur go around calling him his fiancé, he wondered.

“I said that two people, two men, needed a room for the night because of the storm,” Arthur replied, seeming more and more annoyed and worked up as time passed. “I mean, do I really seem–”

Arthur was cut off when Francis let out a laugh that he failed to hold back. He pretended he was just coughing or choking when the Englishman glared daggers at him.

“You think this is funny?”

“Non, non,” Francis replied, waving his hand as he continued to cough in an attempt to cover up that he was only laughing harder when Arthur got more upset about it.

Irritated, Arthur stormed out of the room and went back down to the lobby, determined to get a second bed.

“Excuse me,” Arthur started, a forced smile on his face as he approached the receptionist again.

“Yes, sir? Was there a problem with your room?”

“Yes, yes, there was.”

The receptionist seemed surprised to hear that there was something wrong with the room, but was eager to help resolve whatever the issue was.

“Oh, no. I’m sorry to hear that. What’s the issue?”

“There’s only one bed in our room,” Arthur replied, his cheeks heating up with embarrassment.

“Oh, I…” The receptionist’s cheeks flushed, too. “I just thought that because you two have the same last name… that you… Not to mention that the two of you suit each other quite well…” She trailed off in embarrassment.

She then started to hurriedly click through different rooms on the computer behind the counter in an attempt to find a different room before the uncomfortable conversation could continue any further.

“It’s not like that!” Arthur raised his voice defensively, his cheeks now completely crimson.

They suited each other? That was the same word Francis used to describe the coat Arthur had bought earlier. Once again, he was left wondering if it was really a compliment. All the two of them did was fight, so surely the woman, who was merely a stranger, was mistaken.

“I’m so sorry for the misunderstanding, but the last room with two beds has already been taken. And there aren’t any single bed rooms available tonight either… Again, I’m really sorry,” The receptionist replied, avoiding eye contact with the Englishman after he raised his voice.

“I, um, I’m sorry, too. I shouldn’t have yelled,” Arthur replied awkwardly before he turned around and went back upstairs.

When Arthur got back to the room, Francis was sitting on a chair, drying his wet hair with one of the hotel towels. He glanced up at the Englishman.

“What did she say?”

Arthur ignored Francis and walked past him.

“It doesn’t matter. This whole thing has me exhausted, so I’m going to sleep now,” Arthur eventually replied dismissively.

“She thought we were a couple, didn’t she?” Francis teased, a smirk forming on his face.

“Only because of our stupid last names..!” Arthur replied, getting worked up again. “Now where do you want to sleep– the bed or the couch?”

“Well, since you asked, the bed.”

“Fine,” Arthur replied as though he was disappointed, but too tired to object. In fact, as soon as he heard a response, he started moving a blanket and pillow over to the couch.

“Just because I’m going to sleep in the bed doesn't mean that you can’t, too. We are married after all,” Francis continued to tease the Englishman as he walked over to the bed.

“At this point I wish you would invite the receptionist to the bed so she would get whatever idea she has about me out of her head…”

“It might get that idea out of her head about me, but not about you. Bonne nuit!” Francis replied in a singsong tone as he turned off the light.

“Oh shut it!” Arthur yelled, tossing his pillow at the Frenchman from across the room– a decision which left him stumbling around in the dark trying to find it for quite awhile…

[koolkat9]

about the song and ship thing: i always thought that the great war by taylor swift would suit fruk. or maybe cardigan? actually now that i’m thinking a lot of ts songs fit fruk

I'm going to go with only one song because I got very backed up on these and fruk ideas have not been coming to me for awhile unfortunately 😅

Okay I am going to choose 'Cardigan' because 'Great War' is literally just canon/nationverse fruk and this is an au ask game/lh

Sorry this is going to be very angsty Fruk that probably won't be end game, warning everyone now.

This actually gives me more ideas for a vague idea of an au I've had for the past few months.

Francis and Arthur were childhood rivals, always at each others throats. Then something changes in high school, they realize how nice it is to have the other around as a constant in their lives and they eventually acknowledge growing fondness. That fondness turns into a passionate romance.

Until passion isn't enough anymore. This isn't the kind of romance Francis imagined for himself. They still fight, can't agree on things, constantly trying to one up one another. And Francis starts not liking that romantic dynamic. Sure the sex is great, but he wants something a little softer in other aspects. Not to mention Arthur himself seems to be going on a downward spiral despite everything Francis tries to do to help him. Eventually it gets to a point where Arthur can't offer him what he needs but someone else seems to be willing to. The two break up in their last year of uni.

Arthur is really crushed, and the break up only sends him spiraling more. In his era of stupid decisions, he accidentally gets a girl pregnant and ends up with a son. Which turns out to be just what he needs to turn his life around. He gets a steady job, leaves the alcohol and drugs behind. Though not the perfect father, he tries to give his son Alfred everything.

Around when Al is five, Francis reaches out to Arthur. They've also had a kid in the process who's about a year or so younger than Al. Francis begs Arthur to watch their son Matthew. Something seems wrong given the way Francis is speaking, but Arthur eventually agrees. It would be good for Alfred.

But something really wrong becomes apparent when Francis doesn't return that evening and refuses to pick up his phone.

Days later he finally gets a hold of Francis after threatening to call the police. Francis begs Arthur to take in Matthew. They explain that Matthew's mother abandoned them, and that they're not a fit parent. Arthur can tell Francis is drunk which gives him an inkling as to what is going on. He's pissed what this will mean for Matthew and Francis just dumped the kid on him. But when Francis brings up that they don't want to put Matt into foster care, Arthur softens having been a kid of foster care too and knowing how it can be. So he agrees.

So two possible endings.

Fruk gets back together, Arthur helps Francis get sober like he had to after Al was born.

Fruk remain only as friends but Francis eventually does start visiting despite Arthur and Matthew still being a bit mad. But they do eventually get to a better place.

[peppermint-chocolate-cherries]

Hetalians as Characters in A Christmas Carol

So it's that time of year, and every year I watch the same Christmas movies over and over again. A classic in this house, also my mom's favourite version of it, is A Christmas Carol from 1951 starring Alastair Sim. Yes, I deliberately tracked down the DVD for her one year, and ironically I now have the working DVD player in the house.

I thought of these Hetalians as these characters in years past, thinking "one of these years I'll write the full fanfiction and post it", but since I never seem to get around to it... why don't I just cast everyone below the cut here?

Ebenezer Scrooge - Switzerland. This one should be so fucking obvious.

Marley, his dead business partner - Netherlands. All about the money.

Ghost of Christmas Past - Ukraine. You know she'd be the supportive guide, leading Switzy through exploring his past.

Ghost of Christmas Present - Russia. Don't tell me he couldn't play the jovial role of a Father Christmas type figure here. Plus the undertone of creepiness for his departure scene, where he becomes anxious to get out of there before the next ghost shows up.

Ghost of Christmas Yet To Come - Belarus. She doesn't even need to say a fucking word. She'll just stand there ominously, in a black dress and a dark veil that covers her head, and terrifies Switzy into changing his ways.

In The Past...

Fan, Ebenezer's sister - Liechtenstein. Poor sweet sister who tries to bring him back home to the family. Eventually dies in childbirth, which breaks her brother's heart.

Fezziwig, Ebenezer's first employer - Spain. You know the Spaniard would be a kind employer who would throw the best work party for the holidays.

Alice, Ebenezer's sweetheart - Hungary. Yes, perhaps my first thoughts of SwissHun, before I wrote Only Aces Remain or plotted Havana Lunare. Erzsébet would be happy with the relationship when they were young and humble, but would call it quits when the golden idol of wealth takes her place in his heart.

Jorkin, Ebenezer's next employer - Austria. A man who appears wealthy and influential, but ultimately gets caught up in embezzlement and bad business. He'll get bought out by Switzy and Ned.

Fan's husband (shows up in the background for the one scene in the movie) - Prussia. Yes, I'm breaking canon rules and throwing away the family lineage. Erika marries Gilbert, and dies giving birth to their son, who you can probably guess before I mention him later.

In The Present....

Bob Crachit - France. Keep following me on this....

Mrs Crachit - England (nyo). Yes, we get our FRUK pairing, which also means....

Assorted young Crachits - FACE family! Alfred can be the young man of the house, Madeline can be the eldest daughter who had to clear snow at the school/church before running home, you know where I'm going with this.

Tiny Tim - Sealand. Given the above, this should also be an obvious choice.

Fred, Ebenezer's nephew - Ludwig. Yes, Germany is the child of PruLiech as mentioned above. The young man is very happy in life, has married for love, and will at least try every year to convince his stubborn uncle to actually enjoy the holidays.

Fred's unnamed wife - Italy (nyo). Yes, we can have our heteronormative Gerita in this too. She'll be hosting the party with Fred, and Lovino can be one of the guests.

Mrs Dilber, the charwoman at Scrooge's house - Belgium. She just takes care of the cleaning and such, tries to sell his bedsheets and bedcurtains in the future yet to come, and gets a fright when he's way too happy on Christmas morning.

[mystybird]

hi there! ♡ ︎you can call me mysty or bird!

thanks for checking out my blog! if you’re here, we probably share some similar interests and i hope you stick around! here’s an idea of what you can expect on my page if you follow!

⋆ as of right now this is a hetalia art and headcanon blog - you will see lots of alfred content especially! he’s my favorite, my blorbo, my boy, i’m sure you can tell.

⋆ my main ship preference is rusame/amerus. you may see some occasional side ships like fruk or ameripan. i don’t consider myself an anti but i do have my preferences. :)

⋆ i don’t really like or post dark or disturbing content. if that changes i will use tags accordingly but as of right now the darkest you’ll see here is like, the occasional blood or minor wound in a scenic art piece.

⋆ i am NOT a minor but you likely will not see NSFW or smut on this account. if i ever decide to post something smutty it’ll be on a separate 18+ account. you WILL see art of characters in their undies, bathing suits, or anatomy practices, but not intended to be NSFW.

⋆ that being said, you may see posts or artwork that depict or mention adult substances. i will always try to use tags accordingly but if i miss a tag you’ve been warned!

⋆ i always forget to use tags in my reblogs. you’ve been warned. there may be occasional reblogs from other niche fandoms or interests of mine. 

⋆ i am an avid roleplayer and always open to discussing headcanons and ideas, or finding new rp buddies!

⋆ i do commissions and (sometimes) take requests!

also, if i have followed you in the past and you see me re-follow; it’s probably because i accidentally blocked you while removing p0rn bots. my bad!

[dirtydeet]

I've seen sebaciel fans starting to shit on dadbastian or other ships within the fandom like 😔 pls I'm begging u don't start acting like the antis u hate

We've matured past ship wars. Want to know who else had some major ship wars? The hetalia fandom. I'm talking usuk vs fruk baby. There was probably something awful in superwholock or homestuck too but y'know what wasn't middle school me's cup of tea so I'll never know. I hope me mentioning the thought makes some of you who were involved shutter nevertheless.

Never forget the horrors of fandom wars.

[maibluemen]

22 and 23 for the choose violence game!

choose violence asks!

22) your favorite part of canon that everyone else ignores

all of it, apparently asdfg. i think the outsourcing series, which is decently popular with liet fans who bother reading canon at all pre-WS, deserves mention though, partly because it singlehandedly got me into the idea of shipping lol

23) ship you've unwillingly come around to

you know, funnily enough, lietpol. i don't think i ever, like, hated it to be clear but it had a few things against it, namely: a) feliks is a pretty minor character, and in the early days he felt considerably less developed than liet....or liet's other ship options. b) the way early fandom wrote feliks........was not good. if i'm being so honest lol i never disliked his character, but his presence in a fic would often make me nope out on the basis of dialogue alone lmao. c) a bit later on, when antis started to be a thing, some of the worst of that group in the heta fandom were lietpol fans, and as a rusliet shipper i received....mostly anonymous harassment, but i do think most of it came from that particular clique because i do know they were harassing others, which obviously soured me to it a bit (this has also really soured me on fruk over the past few years tb quite h). also c.1) this same clique dominated lietpol stuff for awhile and made it suuuuper cute and fluffy and no conflict allowed between them ever, and there's still kinda remnants of that in "mainstream" so to speak fan stuff of them, and it's just. annoying to me on multiple levels lol

but even the irl history of the two countries aside (tho obviously that gets. very messy too lmao) i think they're a good and interesting ship when you're actually working with them in character lol

[ao3feed-usukus]

not any more than sun and moon

read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/qDe62Pb by WhyHowdyThereExtras Neither of them speaks, but it’s because neither of them really knows what to say. It’s so fucking cold and their lips are chapped and Alfred’s shivering. He’s shivering a lot. But they don’t say a word for those reasons, though they’re valid reasons enough. They both know that. And they’re grown men who’ve had exes who aren’t each other. They’ve danced with other men, women, sometimes someone in between, or neither, or everything. They’ve fallen for all different kinds of people, people who aren’t each other. They know the rules. It’s a standard, really. You aren’t obliged to converse with your ex. Sometimes it’s encouraged. Block that asshole, he can go fuck himself, never liked him anyway. Whatever. The works. But Alfred’s sitting at the bench where they first met, and Arthur had every intention of sitting there, too. Not for sentimental reasons, though. Of course not. (But that’s them. They lie. They lied to each other, a lot.) Words: 3205, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: Hetalia: Axis Powers Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: America (Hetalia), England (Hetalia), mentioned Female France (Hetalia), mentioned Japan (Hetalia) - Character Relationships: America/England (Hetalia), past America/England (Hetalia) - Relationship Additional Tags: pure angst, espresso shot angst, Exes, Post-Break Up, Pansexual Character, Hurt No Comfort, just because its over doesnt mean its really over, no beta we die like men, Reminiscing, that one favourite ex whoops, Implied Relationships, Sad Ending, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, implied FrUK, Implied AmeriPan, very minor mentions read it on AO3 at https://ift.tt/qDe62Pb

[gallifreyanlibertea]

I Took My Hater Out On A Date (2/7)

(1/7)  (3/7)  (4/7)  (5/7)  (6/7)

a/n: thank you to everyone that replied to my post!

Arthur barely heard the text notification over his yowling cats. Of course, the beasts only got louder once he turned his attention away from them in pursuit of his phone. They thumped his leg, stomped on his foot. Arthur sighed defeatedly as his fingers curled back into his palm. It seemed his cats weren’t going to let him check his messages until they’d been fed.

Honestly, they acted like Arthur starved them. 

Arthur scraped the food into their food bowls, pausing momentarily at the sound of yet another phone notification, to which his second kitten, Gregory, mewled yet again at Arthur’s distraction.

“Alright, alright.” Arthur snapped. He finished dispensing the food and his cats went to town, to which Arthur’s annoyed, furrowed brows ironed out with a slight, forgiving smile. He couldn’t stay mad at them for long. He reached to scratch their ears as they ate, only to be startled by yet another notification. It was one too many from what Arthur usually received at such a quiet, boring time as one twenty-three PM.

Most of his friends were at work by that time. Arthur would’ve been as well, had it not been for the fact that he’d slipped in his bathtub and nearly snapped his back in two a few days ago- he chose never to explain that incident in detail to his YouTube subscribers, who no doubt saw him as a young, sarcastic and somewhat robust man. It was an illusion he hadn’t been so quick to shatter, so he’d told them he was hospitalized and that was all they needed to know. 

It wasn’t exactly a lie so much as it was a half-truth.

Arthur had been leaning to check his messages when he was startled by five firm knocks on his front door. He scrambled to brush the cat hair off his sweater before he opened the door to- “Francis? Aren’t you supposed to be at work?”

“I left early. Have you seen it?” Francis said, lips spreading in what seemed to be a mocking smile.”That American’s new video?”

“Wh- what? I-”

Francis helped himself into Arthur’s apartment, squatting by Arthur’s coffee table to retrieve Arthur’s laptop from underneath, all with the familiarity of an ex- live-in boyfriend.

It put a sour taste in Arthur’s mouth to remember that he’d actually dated Francis Bonnefoy.

Francis hated cats, Arthur hated the French, Arthur wasn’t quite sure how it had all worked out for three months, much less a minute.

He supposed the sex had been good. Really good. That was all their relationship had been, really. It lacked any substance, it had moved far too fast, it was far too sloppy, which made it all the more easier for Arthur when Francis finally grew bored of Arthur and broke things off.

Nevertheless, Arthur found that he was never able to truly get rid of Francis Bonnefoy. He hadn’t minded that sometimes.

He minded it now, as he watched Francis nearly step on a cat in his hurry to sit on the couch.

“Watch out for Greg!” Arthur hissed.

Francis paused. His lip curled. “I’ll never understand your choice of pet names.”

“The name means to watch, to be alert.” Arthur sniffed. “Cats deserve meaningful names as well, you know, he’s got those sharp ears and those big eyes, like he’s always looking for something-”

“You named the first one Biscuit.”

“I thought it was cute!”

Francis rolled his eyes and went back to work. Arthur eyed him as he threw Arthur’s laptop open, with long painted fingernails clacking on the keys.

“I hardly think it’s that important, Francis.” Arthur scoffed. Curiosity gnawed at the pit of Arthur’s stomach, but Francis didn’t need to know that. 

See, all Francis would need to know was that Alfred Jones, that annoyingly attractive American YouTuber, was nothing more than an insignificant part of Arthur’s YouTube career. Arthur’s subscribers had brought Alfred to Arthur’s attention, and Arthur had done what he did best, what his viewers liked best. He’d reacted to Alfred’s videos.

Besides, it was shockingly easy to make fun of Alfred, just as it was to poke fun at any gaming YouTuber, really. Arthur never had understood the hype.

He recalled almost groaning at the thought of having to watch Alfred’s videos to find something to talk about. He’d clicked on them reluctantly. He wasn’t exactly eager to spend his time watching something he knew for a fact he wouldn’t enjoy, even if it was for the sake of his ‘career’.

He supposed he’d judged the book by its cover, but that form of evaluation almost always worked when it came to gaming YouTubers. They were all the same. With their same, screamy, juvenile content. Their same ‘squads’ playing games together, their same scripted content. Arthur never understood how they gained so many subscribers.

And there had been no plot twist, no sudden realization that, wow, I’d misunderstood this Alfred Jones all along! Because Arthur had truly hated the first video he’d seen. 

That particular video had been Alfred and his mates playing a game with commentary voiced over. It had been dreadful to watch, so painfully boring. Arthur never understood how it could be entertaining to watch others play a game and not actually play it yourself.

Arthur had, however, smiled a little- maybe a little- at some of Alfred’s light humor, sprinkled in between censored curse words and loud laughter. That was all.

It wasn’t until he’d watched a video with Alfred’s actual face in view that everything struck him. 

The other video had the game in full view with a small window in the corner where Arthur could see Alfred and his friends playing. He’d skipped to the middle to watch it and left almost a minute after, so Arthur hadn’t gotten to see that deliciously strong jawline in clear view, full lips parting for dimpled grins, broad shoulders clad in that sweatshirt of his.

Suddenly, Arthur found it difficult to piece together his argument. He was at a loss for words when words were the things he desperately needed to conjure up- dry-humored, cynical words, ones that had never failed to entertain his viewers. 

Well, it was easy to draft something vicious, of course. Arthur never ran dry on ways to insult a person, but he needed to find something… genuine.

Arthur liked to think his videos were an extension of him. Nothing was scripted. He’d just talk and talk and edit out the rough parts, but it seemed everything he had to say about Alfred was a rough part. He’d gone on for minutes flaming Alfred’s content in front of his camera until it had figuratively laid in simmering ashes at Arthur’s feet, but when Arthur re-watched the footage, he felt something missing. 

He didn’t know what.

It was strange, considering that Alfred had an enormous amount of content, which meant more for Arthur to talk about. That meant it would be easier to find material for a reaction video, right?

Arthur’s research had started out with a wide sweep of the channel. He could’ve easily poked fun at just the amount of playlists the lad had- it seemed he made a video about everything.

There was a gaming channel. Arthur had passed that one almost immediately, not wanting to torture himself any longer. He’d already had enough to say about those videos.

There was a… conspiracy theory channel? Arthur had paused upon seeing that, wondering if his eyes deceived him. He’d clicked onto it to find videos about faked moon landings, Mandela effects, theories as to how the world would end- Alfred seemed to be very well versed in his research.

“Hey guys,” Alfred started all his conspiracy videos with chilling music. Arthur liked to pretend it never got to him, but he had clicked out of the video that night and watched it the next morning, in broad daylight. “I have a brand new conspiracy to talk about and- wow, I honestly could not see anything the same after researching it.”

That low, husky voice Alfred put on for the videos, Alfred’s knowledge on the matter- it gave Arthur... mad-scientist vibes. Arthur hadn’t known he’d been blushing profusely until he’d clicked out of the video and taken a break for a quick glass of water.

Arthur couldn’t help his attraction to the strangest little things. He had a thing for tourists, for conspiracists, for glasses, for a nice tall build, and Alfred was inconveniently all of those. Alfred was annoyingly, incredibly, attractive, and there was no denying it.

But hell, Arthur found many things attractive. Even Francis was attractive (which was something Arthur would never tell him) but that had never stopped Arthur from making fun of him.

So yes, Arthur found ample things to discuss in his video, but he had never been content with a single take. In fact, he’d contemplated giving up on the idea, but he couldn’t afford to pass up on making a video that almost guaranteed viewer satisfaction, what with the sheer amount of Twitter posts, YouTube comments, Instagram DMs and whatnot that practically begged Arthur to consider Alfred Jones.

He would simply have to make it work. He’d scanned his thirteenth take, in which he’d been sitting in front of the camera with a sneer on his lips. “I don’t know just how offended I should be that you lot selected someone so unbelievably annoying, so humorless, so-”

And Arthur had winced, just a little. Despite the fact that his viewers adored his rant videos, Arthur didn’t have the heart to be so cruel this time. At least not without some sort of filter. Besides, he wasn’t exactly keen on having Alfred Jones superfans flooding his comment section.

So Arthur had found a comfortable middle-ground. He indulged his viewers in the mockery while diluting it for the sake of diplomacy- er, however much diplomacy could be managed with a Reaction YouTuber’s videos.

“As pretty of a face as he does have, I’d still never subject myself to his mind-numbingly boring and clichéd content, nor would I subject myself to a date with someone with a loud, annoying, cookie-cutter online personality.”

Arthur wasn’t wrong. Alfred was attractive, and Arthur had been pleased with the take. It hadn’t been too harsh. It had just the right amounts of everything, just enough not to make Arthur feel too guilty. After all, he complimented Alfred! Even if it was just a little.

It also helped that Alfred wasn’t there in person. Arthur doubted he could say anything remotely rude in front of those big blue eyes.

… or maybe he could. Arthur didn’t know. That was the whole point of the situation, because Alfred was a YouTuber on Arthur’s laptop screen. It didn’t feel real. It made it all the more easier for Arthur.

It also didn’t help that Alfred was predictable as well. When Alfred had replied, it was as Arthur had expected. It was like a game of chess. It was hardly two people in a petty fight- Arthur assumed that if this were in person, that was what it would be. But because it was online, it felt like a battle, a war.

See, he’d learned a lot from dating a popular MUA, and it was that YouTube interactions between two well-known creators were hardly ever just an interaction. It was a tactic. It carried benefits.

When Alfred had said, “Besides, I’d never date anyone who can spend that much time complaining on camera”, Arthur had raised his brows. He’d checked the comment section to find some of Arthur’s subscribers meagerly defending him. How cute.

He’d checked his twitter to find the brewings of a feud. Subscribers of Alfred’s fought ones of Arthur, subscribers of both were eager for more. Oh god, Arthur had even found hate-to-love fanfiction-

The viewers were not letting this go. Therefore, Arthur would not be letting this go. He would not be sparing Alfred Jones.

It seemed Alfred wouldn’t be sparing Arthur either. Arthur checked his messages as Francis searched for Alfred’s latest video, one he absolutely had to watch, apparently, because Arthur’s first message had been from an ex-roommate that Arthur still kept in contact with, Bharat:

Have you seen it????

Another had been from his older brother, Allistair:

Watch the new vid, am honestly cryin HAHA its what you get fer fuckin round on yt all the time

And two others had been from Francis:

MDR did you see??

I’m coming over I’m almost there

It seemed Alfred wasn’t sparing Arthur either, because Arthur found his expression contorting into one of pain every second of Alfred’s latest video, wondering what exactly on God’s green earth was Alfred’s plan. 

It was unpredictable, and Arthur never made his next move until he knew what his opponent was up to.

Francis had let the cursor hover over a video on the trending page titled ‘Why Arthur Kirkland Should Date Me’. Arthur’s eyebrows had shot up. “Wh… what?”

Francis had clicked the video with a smirk. “Trust me, it gets worse.”

“Hey, what’s up you guys! I’m back again with another video.” A chipper Alfred said on the screen. “I’m gonna assume you all know why I’m making this. A YouTuber I’d never seen before- and trust me, I would never have forgotten a face like that if I had.” Alfred winked. 

Arthur choked on air. Francis bit back a smile. 

“He’s been dragging me to hell and back, and his recent video was particularly interesting to me.”

A thumbnail link of the video popped up on the screen. Well, at least, Arthur was getting some advertisement.

“Come on now, dude, this isn’t kindergarten! For a guy that spent a good ten minutes talking about how childish I am, you’re not so much better yourself.”

Arthur had frowned quizzically, not entirely sure of where the message had been going.

“You think I’m hot, I think you’re hot-”

What.

“I mean, I’ll look past the huge eyebrows and the fact that you wear the same type of sweater in all your videos, if you can look past my cookie-cutter online personality. I took the liberty to make a video just for you, in the hopes that you’ll just drop the act and slide into my DMs.”

Arthur furrowed his brows. Alfred was a clever lad. A clever, clever lad, it seemed, because, well, this was Alfred’s plan. If Arthur made another, normal reaction video, there would be no changing of the fact that millions of viewers now thought Arthur was some schoolgirl with a crush, some schoolgirl in denial.

Arthur watched the scene cut to Alfred lifting weights in the low, orangey light of a gym-

“I work out!”

-then, to Alfred on some sort of gymnastic mat, doing impressive backflips and other... bendy things, “I’m flexible if you know what I mean.”

Arthur watched, red-faced, as Alfred winked on screen. The scene then switched to Alfred playing with a pet- a fat, fluffy white cat with brown ears. “I saw in a video that you liked cats. I have one too! His name’s Hero!”

That bit was predictable. It was easy to see that the Alfred was a comic book buff from the figurines that lined the room he filmed in, the posters on his walls.

Now, Alfred was on a couch, scrolling his phone with a big, cheesy smile. “I just googled your height, and I think you’d fit just perfectly in my arms. People tell me I’m real warm.”

This was ridiculous. Surely Alfred had to know that! Arthur’s cheeks burned red in embarrassment. He was suddenly aware of Francis’ presence, those blue, mocking, laughing eyes of his drilling into Arthur’s mortified body.

And finally, much to Francis’ glee and the twist in the pit of Arthur’s stomach, Alfred took off his sweatshirt. He took off the shirt underneath it, displaying a deliciously tanned expanse of toned muscle. Alfred grinned cheekily, and Arthur felt his insides flutter. “And last of all, because this is what’s under my sweatshirt.”

“That bastard,” Arthur muttered as the video came to an end. “I- I don’t even know what he… that cheeky bastard.”

“I say you accept his proposal,” Francis joked. Arthur ignored him.

“I’ve got to do something, Francis. I can’t just let him- I… I need to match his play, but I can’t just do something like this, God knows I don’t have that in me!”

“Stop blubbering. Does it always have to be a play with you?” Francis scoffed, “Maybe he likes you.”

“Oh come on,” Arthur rose from the couch, taking to pacing in his living room, “He’s doing this for views and I know it. Fans go crazy over gay subtext like this.”

“It’s hardly sub-text.”

Arthur ignored him again. “I’m not going to let myself be ridiculed like this.”

Arthur filmed a new video the next week, in which he’d taken to coming up with a list, similar to Alfred. He’d filmed in various locations, similar to Alfred. Arthur matched the play.

“Sometimes I box after a stressful day,” Arthur had said as Francis filmed him in the ring, boxing glove-clad hands poised up, “I can quite easily knock a tooth out.”

The scene switched to Arthur sifting through his mail. “I’ve got all these bills that I’m paying with my job. In case you’re not sure what that is, it’s an adult responsibility. To put it into terms you might understand, my job is like a… um, quest that I complete to gain coins, money, um… V-Bucks, so I can pay for ‘cool stuff’! Like rent! And it’s very important, so I’d rather not be bothered with children dragging my name into videos for viewer satisfaction.”

And there was much, much more. Oh, so much more. Arthur titled the video ‘Why Alfred Jones Should Fuck Off’ and posted it with a smug smile on his lips.

It was trending a week later.

Arthur scrolled through his email notifications absentmindedly, watching his subscriber count grow, as his free hand stroked Biscuit on his lap.

See, Arthur could admit that all the new subscribers did make him feel a little bit nice. Maybe that made him slightly egotistical. He liked to see his email chock full of the notifications. He liked to scroll through them, when he had nothing else to do, and recently, he’d had quite a few in his inbox. With the time he’d taken off work, he’d also had quite a few moments in his day when he had nothing else to do.

He then paused. He blinked. His lips curved up in a slight smile.

Alfred Jones has subscribed to you on YouTube!

[elithegnome]

A little FACE family story.

A/N: Heavy FRUK shipping, I know, I ship them, shocker amirite? Also Shakira song reference, I know she committed tax fraud so yeah people might not like her as much but lyrics from one of her songs are mentioned.

————————————————————

Arthur was sitting on a plush, vintage chair in the living room, awaiting the arrival of his husband Francis, just to chat about their twin sons. To Arthur, the two seemed to be acting unlike themselves for the past couple of days. The Brit snapped himself out of his thoughts when his darling Francis walked into the room, blue eyes full of concern.

“Mon Cher what is wrong? You look worried!” 

“Yeah Francis, no matter how hard I try I cannot shamidamida eh-eh waca-waca eh-eh from the troubling fact that our sons are acting strange! Matthew won’t even make eye contact with us and Alfred’s being dead silent! And every time I see the two talking they’re always whispering about something and it irks me that I don’t know what’s going on!”

Arthur spat aggressively after taking a long sip of his tea. ( I WAS LISTENING TO SHAKIRA WHILE WRITING THIS AND WHEN I CAME BACK TO IT I STARTED LAUGHING MY ASS OFF, I REFUSE TO GET RID OF THAT IM SORRY DHDHEHEHEGSGSH)

The Frenchman frowned, slowly leaning in to kiss his husband on the cheek, before sitting on the man’s lap. 

“Is there anything I can do?” Francis pleaded, wrapping his arms around Arthur’s neck.

“No, not until we find out what’s up with our sons.” The Brit sighed

Francis gripped Arthur’s hand tightly, taking a moment to observe the rings on their fingers. After this he gazed back up at the Brit, who didn’t look so angry anymore.

“I promise mon lapin, there is nothing wrong with the boys. But even if they are acting odd they’re still the same twins we adopted 11 years ago.” Francis chimed, twirling Arthur’s ash blonde hair in his fingers. 

With that, the sound of a lock clicking echoed through the hallway of the Victorian style house, with two little blond boys shuffling into the house, one shutting the door behind them. 

Francis beamed, raising himself up from Arthur’s lap, ambling himself towards his sons. Both Matthew and Alfred stared up at their Papa, a look of impatience in their eyes. 

“Garçons!  Comment était l'école?” The Frenchman beamed, kissing his sons on their cheeks. 

“School was fine thank you Papa.” Matthew blurted, rushing up the stairs with his brother. 

Francis and Arthur turned to face each other, with Francis shrugging and sighing slightly.

“See what I mean now?” Arthur buzzed, scoffing.

Francis nodded, “Oui, I do. But I think you should be the one to sort out the situation. You were worried first.”

Even though somewhat reluctant, Arthur nodded and made his way upstairs. His footsteps echoed through the hallway as he made his way towards the sound of two voices discussing some unknown topic. Slowly, Arthur turned the doorknob to Alfred’s room, where he saw the two boys seeming to be drawing and gluing paper onto a poster board. 

“Matthew, Alfred,” He began, “What on earth are you doing?” 

Matthew jumped up to his feet and tried his hardest to shut the door, “No you can’t see it-“

Arthur however was stronger, and looked at the poster board intently. 

The words, “Happy Anniversary Papa and Dad!” were written in Alfred’s handwriting across the top of the board, with photos of trips and family pictures plastered below, and “We love you!” also written below those. The Brit felt a tear prick the corner of his eye, had the boys really been spending their free time making an anniversary gift for their parents?

Alfred rubbed his arm sheepishly, “We didn’t want you to figure out until tomorrow.” As if to respond, Arthur pulled the twins into an embrace, slowly stroking their hair.

“Oh boys you didn’t have to do this.” 

“Yeah we did!” Matthew rebutted, “You and Papa have done so much for us and we just wanted to make up for it!”

His father chuckled lightly, “You do enough by just being here.”

Alfred’s eyes widened, “Really?”

“Yes, really.” Arthur smiled, “I love you two so much.” 

The boys began to speak simultaneously, “We love you too Dad!”

Slowly, Arthur backed away from the twin boys, starting to leave the room.

“Well, I’ll leave you both to it.”

[oumaheroes]

The Beginning

Summary: The newly elected Flush of the Spades kingdom travel to meet the monarchy of their long time ally, Diamonds. Or, the exiled ex-Jack of Diamonds returns home to flaunt his new political position.

Whichever way you want to look at it.

Characters: England, France/ FrUK, America (Canada, China, Liechtenstein and Switzerland mentioned)

Word Count: 1177

Part of an emotionally damaging Cardverse AU from myself and the wonderful @thedisappointedidealist12

----

'Dude, you look like you're gonna be sick.'

Arthur turned from where he was staring out of the window to glare at Alfred, sat beside him in the back of their car. 'Thank, you Alfred, that was an extremely helpful thing to say.'

Alfred laughed brightly, unconcerned by Arthur's grumpy mood, 'I'm just saying.'

Arthur huffed and turned back to gaze out at the passing countryside, 'Yes well, don't.'

There was a pause. Arthur could hear Alfred fiddling with the clasps around his collar, a ruffle and tug of fabric. Then: 'you're not though, right? Gonna throw up.'

'No, Alfred.'

Alfred let out a sigh of relief. 'Good, cos these cars were just cleaned yesterday and Mei-Ling chewed my ear off about how much it cost so I don't wanna piss her off-'

'Alfred!' Arthur turned back in his seat to face him, 'stop talking, and dear God what are you doing to yourself?'

Alfred's collar was now so twisted it looked as though it had been done up by a toddler. 'I don't like the buttons done up this high.' He said, a slight whine in his voice and Arthur leant over to fix it back again, batting his hands away.

'It's the proper way to wear formal attire; we need to make a good impression.'

Alfred rolled his eyes, 'Well, I already know Francis and you definitely already know him so we've kinda already gone past "good" impressions, don't ya think?'

Arthur finished fixing his collar and sat back with a scowl. 'Well, let's not make that worse then, shall we?'

There was another pause and Arthur could feel Alfred twitching, waiting to say something.

'Are you nervous about seeing him again? It’s the first time since you were fired as Jack, right? Is that it- why you're being so prissy?'

'I-! Prissy what do you... I'm not- I'm not nervous, I jus-'

'Dude chill, it's fine if you are.' Alfred put a placating hand on Arthur's shoulder, 'It's been seven years and you didn't exactly leave on the best of terms; it's fine, don't work yourself up so much.'

Arthur pressed his lips together and gently shrugged Alfred off, turning to look out of the window again. The countryside felt so achingly familiar; it was strange to come back here after so long, a mix of joy and nostalgia churned with apprehension and dread. He hadn’t seen or spoken to Francis since he left, not one word and not one letter on either side. Francis had most likely expected Arthur to write to him first but Arthur had no intention of begging or pleading anything to the man who had caused their separation in the first place.

'I just want this to go well.' Arthur said, eventually. 'Diamonds have always held a lot of pride for their monarchy- its longevity. They see the elected governments of Spades and Clubs as mere passing events, often not worth bothering with.'

Arthur swallowed back an uncomfortable lump in his throat. 'I want to give them no reason to dismiss us so quickly.'

Arthur could see the vaguest image of Alfred's reflection eyeing him carefully in the window but he offered nothing else and silence feel between them. A short time later, Arthur growing steadily more tense with each passing minute, their car nosed its way through the long winding drive way and through the elaborate wrought iron gates to pull up in the palace courtyard.

As soon as it stopped Alfred got himself out, not waiting for their driver to open the door for him, and Arthur could hear him exclaiming loudly in awe, 'Man, look at that! It's so cool; look at those archways!'

Arthur sat with his eyes closed, drumming his fingers on his thighs and took a deep breath in to get himself ready. At the first click of his door handle, Arthur opened his eyes and steeled himself before getting out in one fluid movement, emerging to look upwards at the sweeping stone staircase that led to the main entrance. It lay underneath a familiar imposing grand facade; delicate stonework and coloured glass demonstrating the sheer opulence and wealth of the Diamonds kingdom from the first look.

Arthur gritted his teeth.

'Are you alright?'

The soft voice of Matthew appeared at Arthur's elbow and turned to look at his Ace of Spades with a genuine smile. 'Yes, thank you. Strange to be back, is all.'

Matthew smiled back, keeping his hands to himself for which Arthur was grateful. This was not a place for Arthur to let weakness of any sort show, emotional or otherwise and a friendly hand from Matthew could easily be misread by watching, mistrustful eyes. Arthur turned, hearing footsteps, and found Yao approaching.

'Ready?'

He had Alfred with him, looking jubilant and excited, and Arthur nodded, seeing Matthew do the same out of the corner of his eye. 'Yes, we're ready.'

Yao nodded, 'Right then, let's go and get this over with.'

He turned, and together the new flush of the Kingdom of Spades ascended the stairs to the main doors, flanked by their entourage to be met by the waiting Diamonds emissaries and staff. After a few quick greetings of polite introductions and small talk, the doors were opened and they were led inside down long, brightly lit corridors with flagstone floors to the intimidating set of double doors which Arthur knew led to the throne room.

Arthur didn’t pay attention to the servant who announced them as he gazed about him at the large vaulted ceiling, lit with chandeliers to cast twinkling lights on the tapestry draped walls. It was painfully glittery and excessive, just as he remembered. He heard both Alfred and Matthew gasp either side of him, before they were ushered forwards towards the thrones at the far end. The Queen of Diamonds sat there waiting to receive them, as did the new Jack, Vash.

Francis, however, was nowhere to be seen.

Lily looked nervous; hands clasped tightly together in front of her whilst Vash stood stony faced by her throne. His face did not move, body language aimed solely at them, but his eyes flicked just once to the door behind Arthur’s head to where he remembered that the family quarters of the monarchs were tucked away. Where Francis was likely watching.

Arthur very skilfully hid his contempt and smiled politely to the Queen and Jack, bowing low alongside Yao, Alfred, and Matthew in a formal greeting. Typical of Francis, he thought, to begin their visit this way. Francis was a master of political games and Arthur read the intention behind this one very clearly.

Arthur was not welcome here. He was not to be granted the respect that the title the Queen of Spades gave him and his flush were not worth the time nor attention from the King of Diamonds. They would be made to wait, like servants or children, to be addressed whenever Francis chose to and no sooner.

Fine. This was fine.

Arthur could play those games just as well.

----

AN:

So me and the incredible @thedisappointedidealist12 have been taking it in turns to torture each other emotionally with this AU and I am beyond obsessed and in love with it.

What I really want to do is write it all up properly and then set it loose into the world where it can hurt even more people, but that task is so great that the very thought of it intimidates me.

In the meantime, have some ‘literary pancakes’ ;) of my favourite parts

Make sure to go and check out the Idealist’s blog too for amazing art about Cardverse, or Hetalia and art in general. Her work is nice and crunchy.

[needcake]

i'll always take an EngPort recommendation 👀 and if you have any.. a trio that also features our dearest Portugal? (not sure how easy those are to find mind you but i am in need of food so i'm not fussy :'))

ahhh thank you!!

1) Engport

Of Pointed Teeth and Tongue, by @rainbowfruitpastilles

'Arthur is all too aware that the years have rose-tinted his recollection of that night, of that man, but he can’t help it. It is what it is now, when he thinks of it: perfect in every way and impossible to disprove with a second encounter to dull the shine. The experience haunts him, lingering with him and following Arthur into every new relationship, whispering in his ear on every first date.

This is not as good it says, this person doesn’t make you feel the same way. You don’t want them like you wanted him.

What’s terrible is that it’s true.'

Arthur Kirkland, against his best wishes and reason, is in love with the memory of someone he met on a beach many years ago.

I have to rec this divine fic by Rainbow, she is such an amazing writer and she has blessed us with this perfect human AU where Arthur meets a handsome stranger in Ibiza and that meeting stays with him for years to come. It's so perfectly paced, such rich descriptions, and I absolutely love how she wrote Gabriel through Arthur's eyes, and especially his memory of their meeting. 10/10

--

2) A trio:

【英荷葡】心胸狭隘的革命家, by SergeantRegen

This one was a little harder because I don't remember reading any ot3s with Port? But I do have this little gem that is Nedport/Nedeng/Engport, so maybe that counts?

You will need to put it through google translate, but I promise it's worth it. It's a human AU set in the 1600s in Indonesia during the Dutch colonization and Ned is the owner of a plot of land with a mysterious past and Eng is a merchant based in India who is trying to make a name for himself. The two start up as friends but Eng starts digging too much into his past and ends up in prison where he meets a strange man (Port).

This is one of those fics that stay with you after you read it, I got to it a while ago and I still remember how it made me feel from time to time. The ending is like a punch, it's so good!

The author mentioned they might make an official translation to English one day, but you never know. Until then we have to make do :')

On that same vibe (of not being exaaactly an ot3 fic) there is also:

All We Know of Heaven, by @rein-ette

After the death of their friend, two men try to pick up the pieces together.

This one is an Engport/Fruk/Fraport and it's exactly what it says in the tin, there's a character death and the other two find comfort in each other. It made me cry a lot and it's so beautifully written, Rein can really describe powerful emotions and it's such a good story. You'll start it crying and end it with a smile :')

--

EDIT:

sorrysorrysorry!! I just remembered the one!!

Reunion, by @froggi-mushroom

Years have passed, and Louise is moving to London in pursuit of a new job. She contacts her old school friends, who graciously offered to house her. Louise is nervous, but determined to rekindled her friendship with the two

In the end, she finds more than friendship

I want to beat myself over the head for forgetting this one! But this is just the first chapter of a hopefully longer fic? I can only hope ;A; Froggi has a beautiful descriptive style and such a rich historical knowledge you just feel totally immersed in her stories! This one is an all girls engportfra ot3 and it’s so so sweet, from this one chapter alone you can have a sense of their dynamic and how it might play in the future, absolutely brilliant 10/10

There’s also this other fic by her:

The Great Frost Fair of 1683, by @froggi-mushroom

In 1683, Katherine invites her longtime lover Joana and sometimes-enemy-sometimes-lover Louise to London to attend the Frost Fair, a fair held on the River Thames whenever it is frozen over

This one is a bit more leaning into the engport, but Louise is there for the ride so let’s chalk it up to engportfra.

Again, Froggi’s style is so deliciously rich, and the girls’ interactions are on point, their personalities are very present and I particularly love her Joana <3 <3

[koolkat9]

I’m Not Going Anywhere

Raiting: T

Pairing: Fruk

Word Count: 909

Francis was by no means an early riser. If it was up to him, he’d happily stay in bed until noon and cuddle up to the man (finally) sleeping peacefully beside him. But someone had to prepare breakfast. Not to mention, based on how Arthur had been doing the past couple of days, it was safe to assume the Brit hadn’t had a proper meal in a while (if he even was eating at all). With a groan, Francis pulled himself out of bed and headed downstairs.

Knowing his lover’s affinity for sweets, Francis decided that crepes with a side of fruit would be a great breakfast surprise. He put the kettle on before searching through the cupboards and fridge for ingredients. At least the kitchen was stocked. He quickly got to work, mixing up the batter before pouring it into the pan. Just as he was finishing arranging the crepes and fruits on the plate for Arthur, the kettle began to whistle. He poured the water into a mug and plopped a tea bag in before adding it to the tray. Francis considered dealing with the sugar and milk himself, but Arthur was very particular when it came to his tea. It was probably best just to bring the milk and sugar up and have Arthur mix them in.

When Francis returned to the room, Arthur was awake. “Good morning,” Francis greeted with a bright smile.

“Morning,” Arthur grunted in reply.

“I made you breakfast and prepared you some tea.”

“Not hungry.”

“Arthur…”

“I’ll take the tea. But I’m not hungry.”

Francis rolled his eyes. “You can’t just live on tea.”

“I’m not hungry,” Arthur hissed.

Francis ignored his lover’s protest and set the tray on the bed. “At least have some fruit,” he pleaded, “Can’t have you fainting on me due to low blood sugar.”

“Stop nagging, you twit.”

Francis scoffed, “After everything you still decide to be a bastard.”

“I didn’t ask you to fucking come! I didn’t ask for your empty pleasantries and promises, and I didn’t ask for you to come in here and fix me!” 

“I didn’t ask to care about you,” Francis shot back with just as much venom, “And I certainly didn’t ask to fall in love with you.”

Arthur went pale, and for a moment, his mouth hung open as if he was trying to force his words out. “Well if you’re so disappointed,” Arthur choked out, “Then leave.”

Though anger still burned in his chest, Francis noticed his words seemed to have actually stung the stone heart of his lover. Taking a deep breath he murmured, “I’m not disappointed. And I’m not going anywhere. I’m just…I’m just frustrated, and I don’t like to see you hurting. Not like this.”

The two stared long and hard at each other, but eventually, Arthur looked away. “Just give up on me already,” he sniffed, “Everybody has…”

Francis sighed, seating himself beside Arthur. “That’s only because you’re a stubborn brute who pushes everyone away before you can get hurt.”

“Fuck you!”

“But here’s the thing,” Francis added, “I’m just as stubborn. So push all you want, but I’m still going to be here, with you, until the end of time.”

Arthur huffed, but said nothing. Francis gave him a tired smile as he inched his hand towards the Englishman’s, eventually lacing their fingers together. After a few moments of quiet, Arthur squeezed Francis’s hand. Arthur quickly wiped his eyes before turning back to the tray. With a pout, he picked up a piece of fruit and began to nibble on it. Francis held in a sigh of relief. 

As Arthur ate, Francis rested his head on the Brit’s shoulder. Luckily, Arthur made no move to shake him off and continued eating. He ended up eating all the fruit and half a crepe. If it was up to Francis, he would make Arthur eat it all, but he felt that he already pushed Arthur too much. He would just make him a bigger lunch and/or dinner. 

“Thank you,” Arthur whispered, wiping the corner of his mouth.

“Huh,” Francis chuckled, “Never thought I’d hear that from you.”

“Oh shut up. I’m trying to be nice.”

Francis pressed a loving kiss on his temple. “I’m just teasing mon lapin. You’re very welcome.”

The Frenchman gently took hold of Arthur’s chin, making the Brit look at him before capturing his lips in a gentle kiss. Arthur gave a content hum. When they pulled away, Francis moved the tray to the side before going in for another kiss. He pushed his lover onto the bed, letting his head come to rest on top of Arthur’s heart. Strong and lively, just like the person who owned it.

“I love you,” Francis hummed.

Arthur tensed and the arm that had wrapped around Francis tightened. “I-I love you too,” Arthur stuttered out. 

“How about we stay in bed all morning. Just like this.”

“Okay,” Arthur agreed surprisingly quickly. 

“Really?” Francis exclaimed, shooting up and towering over Arthur.

Arthur shrugged, trying to hide his smile, but failing miserably. Francis pressed a quick kiss on Arthur’s lips, before settling on his chest once more. Arthur was stubborn and a brute. They constantly argued and loved to push each other’s buttons. But despite all that, Francis loved Arthur more than he could say, and he knew Arthur felt the same. Times like these were proof of that, and Francis wouldn’t have it any other way.  

[spicykat9]

Hello darlin' ! I wondered if I can request a challange for ukfr. I want to request two sentences for the nsfw dialogue prompts for punk rocker in a band failing at college but later becomes a doctor Arthur and preppy hard working marriane which becomes a yoga teacher but goes to the gym, like fanfiction that includes - 30.“I can’t wait until we’re alone. There are so many things I want to do to you right now.” and 73. “That position looks impossible enough, let’s try it.” Tnx in advance

Oooh this was fun to do! Thank you! Oh and I just realized I missed part of quote #30. Oh well, I hope you still enjoy this!

Prompt:  30.“I can’t wait until we’re alone. There are so many things I want to do to you right now.” and  73. “That position looks impossible enough, let’s try it.”

Pairing: Fruk/UkFr

Word Count: 2158

Private Lesson

It had been a long day. Arthur had hoped by second year he would have gotten the hang of things and his nerves more controllable, but if anything it was more stressful than ever, and he was falling behind. At least he was able to get everything that needed to be done that week done and could relax over the weekend. Since he was free and it was a Friday evening, Arthur had decided to surprise his boyfriend at work. 

Francis owned a small yoga studio a block away from Arthur’s university. Arthur had ended up going to a few lessons there after one of his professors suggested it to help reduce stress. It ended up doing the complete opposite as he got one of the most annoying instructors. He was everything Arthur claimed to hate: cheerful, peppy, nosy, and worst of all French. But he kept going to those lessons. Though they butted heads, Arthur didn’t have many people he could talk to and Francis was always asking about his personal life. At some point, Arthur ended up confiding in the Frenchman, and in turn, Francis started confiding in him as well. Ever so slowly, Arthur found his feelings for his instructor going from hate to friendship to something even more. He tried to deny it at first, but when his last lesson came around bringing along the fear of never seeing Francis again he decided to swallow his doubt and pride and invite him to dinner. And the rest was history. They had been dating for about a year now.

“Ah Mr. Kirkland,” Michelle, Francis’s receptionist, beamed, “Mr. Bonnefoy is just finishing up his last class and then you can go in.” 

“Thank you, Michelle,” Arthur replied with a nod before going over to the window that looked into the studio. Francis stood at the front of the class, dressed in a tight tank top that showed off his toned chest and arms and jogging pants. His long blond hair was tied into a loose bun to keep the strands out of his face. It appeared to be an advanced class considering the moves Francis was showing off. Arthur felt something stir low in his abdomen as he watched his lover expertly and easefully twist himself into all kinds of shapes, showing off his body and skill. His mind was filled with less than innocent thoughts as he pictured all the ways he could bend Francis and-

“Bonjour mon amour,” Francis greeted with a bright smile and flushed cheeks. He placed a soft kiss on Arthur’s cheek.

“Hello love,” Arthur replied, wrapping his arm around the Frenchman’s waist. “How was your day?”

“Same old, same old. Can’t complain though. What about you mon lapin? School must have been busy with exams.”

Arthur shrugged. “Yeah, but they’re over now.”

“Good,” Francis mused, “I’m sure you’ve been neglecting your physical health during these past few weeks. Not to mention that poor posture hunched over those textbooks.” He grabbed Arthur’s arm and began pulling him into the studio. “A private lesson is just what you need to start getting back into shape.”

Arthur rolled his eyes but followed his boyfriend’s lead. Francis started them off with some dynamic stretching before moving into some simple poses. As they went on, the poses became more complicated and Arthur may or may not have started messing up on purpose just so Francis would touch him and guide his body into the proper form. Francis, who could read Arthur like a book, quickly picked up on this fact. If Arthur wanted to be affectionate, Francis could be affectionate and get Arthur to exercise. “I’ve an idea,” Francis said. He pulled away, almost making Arthur fall over, and scurried over to his laptop and pulled up a list of all kinds of couples’ poses. 

“What’s that?” Arthur grumbled, peeking over his lover’s shoulder.

“Couples yoga. Haven’t you heard of it?”

Arthur shrugged. “Here and there.” 

“Choose a pose and we can try it!”

Arthur mulled it over, skimming over the images in front of him. A lot of them looked pretty simple and were not nearly as intimate as Arthur wanted. Reaching over Francis’s shoulder, he began scrolling through the poses, eventually coming across one that caught his attention. “That position looks impossible enough, let’s try it,” Arthur proposed.

Francis smirked. “If you insist. But I’m holding you up because you’d probably drop me.”

Arthur scowled, but accepted Francis’s condition. 

Francis crouched down while Arthur laid himself on the floor. Francis took hold of the Brit’s legs before encouraging: “Now pull yourself up.”

Perhaps Arthur had been a little too ambitious with his choice as he struggled to pull his upper body up and grab onto Francis’s legs where the Frenchman’s knees bent. Somehow he managed, but his core was burning and he didn’t expect it to last long. But Francis appeared to be struggling as well; not as much as Arthur, but still struggling. Despite the ache in his muscles, Arthur couldn’t help but admire the way Francis’s brows furrowed and beads of sweat trickled down his forehead. The less than innocent images from earlier returned to the forefront of Arthur’s mind. Without much thought, Arthur pulled himself up and foreword, crashing his lips into his lover’s. The force caused Francis to lose his balance and the two collapsed onto the floor.

“What are you--”

Francis was unable to finish that statement as Arthur bit down on Francis’s exposed collar bone, earning a sharp gasp. Arthur couldn’t help but chuckle at the response.  "There are so many things I want to do to you right now."

The Frenchman shivered at the statement. Though it filled him with desire, Francis couldn’t help but be hesitant with Michelle right outside the door. "Not here,” Francis said, taking hold of Arthur’s now wandering hands, stopping their caresses.  “Michelle may see.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “You didn’t seem to have a problem last month when we shagged in the janitor's closet at my school five minutes after I got out of class.”

“But she’s like my little sister. Do you want my little sister to see us fucking?”

Arthur let out a groan before surveying the room and noting the blinds. With some more grumbling, Arthur got up and pulled down the blinds, and locked the door. 

“Better?” Arthur asked, returning to his position above Francis.

Francis smirked and pulled Arthur down into a heated kiss, nibbling at the bottom of Arthur’s lip. "My,” the Frenchman sighed when they pulled away, “sex in a yoga studio? I was starting to think you were all talk and no bite." 

"Oh, I can do plenty of biting," Arthur replied with a mischievous grin.

"That you can--" Francis was once again unable to finish that thought as Arthur bit the side of his neck. He let out a small whine, gripping onto the Brit’s T-shirt. After littering his French lover’s neck with a few more love bites and hard kisses, Arthur’s patience had worn thin and he roughly pulled Francis’s shirt off. With new skin exposed, Arthur continued his pattern of biting and kissing along Francis’s torso. 

Unlike Francis, Arthur was sloppy and rough in foreplay, but the Frenchman wouldn’t have it any other way. Seeing the marks the next day always brought vivid memories of their activities and reignited Francis’s arousal slightly. 

When Arthur was content with his marks, he focused in on Francis’s already half-hard cock. With another smirk, Arthur began palming Francis through his pants while also latching onto his lips in a hard, but passionate kiss. 

Although Francis loved the sensation, through the haze of lust he remembered Arthur was still fully clothed. He pushed the Englishman away before pulling of said man’s shirt and leaving kisses across his chest.

Soon enough, both men were stripped down to their boxers, equally hard and panting.  Arthur took a second to admire the man in front of him. It wasn’t every day he managed to reduce Francis to a blushing mess so he was going to enjoy it while it lasted. After a bit of scanning, Arthur removed the last of Francis’s clothes and went to suck him off. But Francis had other plans.

“Later,” Francis murmured, pulling Arthur up by his hair. It was a little rough (or at least rougher than Francis usually was) and Arthur felt himself get harder by the small action. In a slightly flustered state, Arthur crawled over to his discarded school bag and leather jacket placed beside their mats, coming back once he found a small bottle of lube. As much as he tried to act like a “gentleman” and indirectly a prude, Arthur was quite dirty-minded and rarely ever met up with Francis without some form of lubrication. At least Francis wasn’t so innocent either, though they constantly jabbed at each other’s pervy behaviour. 

Arthur coated his fingers in a generous amount of lube before lifting Francis’s legs and setting them on his shoulders. Slowly, he inserted three digits into Francis. Normally, he liked to go a bit quicker, but Francis had expressed his discomfort with it, so Arthur tried to control himself more. He said he liked to hurt Francis, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. 

Francis let out a breathy sigh as Arthur wriggled and thrusted his fingers around. Once Arthur felt Francis had been stretched enough, he pulled his fingers out and coated his cock in lube. Lining himself up with Francis’s entrance, Arthur pushed in, perhaps a little too quickly based on the grunt that came from his lover. As an apology, Arthur massaged Francis’s thighs with a soft, but genuine “sorry.”

Francis gave him a soft smile, pulling the Brit down for a soft, loving kiss and pushing him further in. “You can move,” Francis whispered when they pulled away. His arms wrapped around Arthur’s torso, pulling him even closer. Arthur’s breath hitched, but he complied. 

He started off slow, not wanting to cause Francis anymore discomfort, but quickly he regained his confidence and began pounding into him. This earned beautiful sounds and exclamations of pleasure from the Frenchman, encouraging Arthur to go faster until Francis was crying out in a mixture of French and English. Arthur wasn’t faring much better as Francis matched his thrusts by rocking his hips and tightening around him leading to a string of grunts and moans. As nice as it was to hear, through his cloudy mind, Arthur remembered Michelle was still on the other side of the door. Although he acted as if he didn’t care earlier, it was quite embarrassing to think she might hear them. Thinking quickly, Arthur crashed his lips into Francis’s, muffling both their moans. 

Amongst the kissing and pulling each other closer, Arthur’s hand made its way to Francis’s neglected hard-on and stroked it as he continued to thrust. When Arthur found Francis’s prostate it was all over for the Frenchman as he came into Arthur’s hand with a breathy moan of Arthur’s name. 

As Francis tightened around Arthur’s cock, riding out his orgasm, the Brit was pushed over the edge, biting into Francis’s shoulder as he came. 

Slowly, Arthur slowed his thrusts, eventually pulling out and collapsing beside Francis. Turning over on his side, he took another moment to admire his French lover. The way his perfect hair was in disarray, yet still seemed perfect. His glistening, hazy blue eyes. His slightly parted lips as he caught his breath. Francis was beautiful every moment of everyday life, but in moments like these, he was absolutely breathtaking.

The lovely moment was ruined however when Francis shrieked, springing up into a seating position: “Arthur! You ruined my mat...It was my favorite too.” 

“Me?” 

“Yes, you wanted to do this in the first place.” 

Arthur went to counter. To say that Francis had said ‘yes’ so he was just as much to blame. But when he met those cerulean blue eyes amongst the red of Francis’s face, all arguments fell away and the desire to hold the man in front of him replaced it. “Fine...I’ll get you a new one,” Arthur said instead. 

Francis, being overdramatic and still upset, huffed and turned away from Arthur. Arthur let out an annoyed sigh, but still, he didn’t like seeing the Frenchman like this after sex, so wrapping his arms around Francis’s torso, he began kissing along Francis’s shoulder and back. Eventually, the man relaxed at the touch and leaned back against Arthur. 

“I love you and...I-I’m sorry,” Arthur said after a few minutes of cuddling. 

“I love you too.”

After a little more cuddling and a few soft kisses, Arthur finally proposed, “We better head to the showers then get dressed and head home.”

Francis hummed in annoyance.

“Come on love. We can pick up dinner and then spend the rest of the night together.”

“Okay,” Francis said, pushing himself up and collecting his clothes. 

[circlique]

Do you have any ships you like but ever only in a very specific way? That’s the kind of relationship I have with rusame. Cold War dark and edgy antics with hate fucking? nah, lame, overdone 🙄😤🤮 Two people who are really just himbos making fun of each other for petty reasons and shit 🥺😍🥰

God I love RusAme himbos like that like what was the post I reblogged a couple days ago...Russia stealing America’s model airplanes and claiming them for Russia. That’s some good shit.

Anyway, to answer your questions: (tw for r*pe and abuse mentions btw)

Russia/China: I am SO fucking picky about rochu like--it was a notp for me for the longest time because I despised how everyone made it super abusive to China by making Russia this obsessed stalker who China would somehow fall in love with. Like, I have found fics where Russia r*ped China and after he apologized China would fall in love with him. God fucking no. And also, even when consensual, any time where Russia is a fucking hypersexual “seme” to a mewling, begging, hyper feminine China. People who ship it like this, get wrecked. SO anyway, loving and supportive rochu where China is a snarky asshole and Russia falls for him because China’s the only one who stands up to him and treats him like an equal and a comrade. They become each other’s rock in a rapidly changing world, and although they have their ups and downs, they understand each others suspicion, pain, and hesitance better than anyone. 

Japan/China: I feel like it should be fairly obvious why the history surrounding this ship makes some people uncomfortable. Obviously people acting like the r*pe of nanjing was some kind of shipping scene is fucking disgusting. However, I have met many Chinese fans who like this ship. It’s kind of a “better world” sort of ship, where many of the people who ship it do so with the understanding that the two of them coming to terms with their pasts is about the only way it can happen. That being said, I think there is plenty of canon evidence that China wishes to have a better relationship with Japan, and that he feels a lot of nostalgia for when their relationship was better. I think a lot of fans of this ship just want to see them have a happy ending.

DenNor: A very popular ship that seems to have a couple of common shipping trends that rub me the wrong way. Number 1: really obvious seme/uke dynamics. I’ve seen several people say Norway is really “in touch with his feminine side” and idk if maybe I missed something in canon but I never got that sense from him at all? Not to say having a feminine side is a bad thing, but this ship does get the seme/uke treatment a lot, and kind of like rochu, people will make Norway super desperate for Denmark’s dick and then also make Denmark into this manly sex god. And then number 2: making it abusive. Norway pulled on Denmark’s tie in one scene. Now he’s gotta hit him every time he’s sort of annoying I guess and verbally abuse him. Can’t we just have the cute dynamic where you have one who’s basically a golden retriever and the other who’s a cat? That’s DenNor to me.

GerIta: You remember what I just said about people making Norway verbally abuse Denmark? Well, GerIta but with Germany verbally abusing Italy all the time. Canon is to blame for a lot of this because...like half their interactions are Germany yelling at him. But they were at war, Germany was frustrated with his ally being a dunderhead--but why do we have to go and make their romantic relationship the same way, especially  modern day? Wouldn’t part of them getting together be them getting past this, don’t you think? And anyway, people in this fandom definitely aren’t afraid to throw out canon, so I don’t know why people are clinging to this element of GerIta and trying to spin it as “Germany’s just frustrated and yells at him because he cares about him!” People go on and on about GerIta being a cute and wholesome ship, but then they portray Germany as verbally abusive. Maybe it’s just my annoyance at people labeling ships like RusAme or FrUk as abusive because they have disagreements and less than stellar histories, but then those same people ignore obvious abuse in their own ship’s fandom because “rules for thee but not for me.” But yeah...GerIta is cute, when handled as a “best friends who were the last to get the memo that they were dating” sort of ship. Germany sighing in frustration at Italy saying something dumb but endearing, and just kinda being like “yeah...he’s an idiot...but he’s my idiot.”

Anyway, this is getting long, but you get the idea about what kinds of things turn me off of ships.

[breitzbachbea]

14 and 20, SicIre for that ask game 🥰

Jay, I am giving you a big, fat kiss on your aussie lips for this one!!!

Obligatory OTP Asks

14. How do their personalities compliment each other? How do they clash?

They're a "Cast in the same mold" kind of ship, so very alike at their core. Much like FrUK, they share the same sort of pride, even though in Harry & Michele's case it's not the pride of someone who feels they're destined for greatness. It's the pride of a survivor, a fire to keep them going at all.

They can both be calming anchors for each other, but Harry is often also a cheerleader for Michele's righteous anger. In general, they're often alike to each other and switch roles - Harry takes the initiative a lot of them time, more forcefully than Michele who is happy to be dragged along. Yet there are also often occassions where Michele steadfastly marches ahead and Harry trusts his judgement. Michele likes to be coddled and Harry likes to be a coddler to his wonderful boyfriend. Both of them like to make snide remarks about the ones who wronged them and can entertain themselves all day long with it.

In the Hetaverse, I think they're also on the same page on how to treat the people around them (Michele can listen to Harry bitch about his siblings 90342 hours a day and Get It), but in LFLS, Michele is much more sincerely affectionate with his friends and family, whereass Harry and the ones around him show love by relentless mocking. No matter the universe however, Michele will let Harry & his sister/siblings over his dead body into his kitchen and has to remind himself again and again that he loves Harry soooo much and that he's got an fantastic arse, even if he sets spaghetti on fire. Michele is also much less of a daredevil than Harry and his blatant disregard for his own safety or making a good figure in public has cost Michele a few nerves, Harry in turn doesn't understand Michele's preoccupation with making a good figure.

But no, overall, they may shake their heads over each other's behaviour, but they rarely clash due to personality. They fit together like puzzle pieces! So different on the surface and so alike underneath!

20. Choose one song that perfectly describes their relationship.

Only one?! I have a whole playlist on Spotify!

Honorary mentions go out to Close to Heaven by Breaking Benjamin & Ist Da Jemand? by Broilers. The first one is such a great end to the playlist and their relationship in LFLS. The doomed devotion! The absolute, undying and unwavering DEVOTION! "So I'll stay unforgiven ... and I'll keep love together ... and I'll be yours forever!" Ist Da Jemand? is the perfect song to start the playlist, because it's a soulmate song, but not in the "meant to be together forever way". It's about "There's someone out there who ticks like you. You both know there is someone who's feeling the same as you - Doesn't matter if you have a lot common on the surface. You'll find each other and brave the world together, whether for only one night or a whole life."

BUT! If I have to pick one song, I'll pick "The Last Of The Real Ones" by Fall Out Boy. It suits them so perfectly! Again, the devotion! The mutual understanding on a fundamental level! They really do think the other is the last of a kind, of their kind - the last in which the same fire burns, with who one can sit in comfortable silence over complicated matters, because even though their past was spent apart, it was filled with similiar experiences. And there's no need to open up old wounds for a better future.