Clock's Fanfics

Hi I'm clocks and welcome to my fic blog *Stares into the camera* Amazing sidebar art by the wonderful Al.

[tyrannuspitch]

when ppl say “let men wear skirts/dresses” that also means

without people being creepy / treating them like a fetish

without people acting like being gnc is “”adult”” or “”private”” or somehow dirty

without people expecting them to alter the rest of their appearance to “fit” (not everyone who wants to wear a dress also wants to wax their whole body or apply a full face of makeup)

skirts and dresses are literally just clothes. they’re just clothes. leave gnc men alone

[usukfics]

20 kiss in a stairwell with artificial height difference, Arthur on the higher step to be taller than Alfred? Cardverse preferably? And maybe in conjunction with 22, a kiss leading to more that's interrupted by a third party? Or not, the latter is just a suggestion!

“The Prince of Diamonds sure liked you, didn’t he?”

Alfred had never seen Arthur’s face turn so sour so quickly before, and he had to bite back a laugh.

Their trip to Diamonds was the first time they met Prince Francis, who they’d most likely be dealing with when they assumed the throne. Alfred had gotten along with Francis well enough, but Francis had been whispering to Arthur all through dinner. Arthur had kept a straight face the whole time, but had stormed off in a huff once dinner was over. The rest of the trip, Arthur had barely left Alfred’s side. Not that Alfred complained.

Arthur scoffed as they turned to climb the staircase leading to their rooms.

“I can’t believe the audacity of him! To proposition me, and in front of both Kings and Queens at dinner, no less!”

Alfred froze on the stairs and frowned. “Wait, I didn’t know he did that.”

Arthur stopped a step above him and rolled his eyes. “If you’re jealous, don’t be. I very politely told him that my fiancé is also my beloved, and I will share no one’s bed but his.”

That brightened Alfred’s mood, and he grinned up at Arthur. “Yeah? Are you actually going to share my bed one of these days, sweetheart?”

Arthur smirked in response. “All in good time, dearest.”

Alfred leaned up at the same time Arthur leaned down, and their lips met in a kiss. Alfred was used to having to lean down a little to kiss Arthur, so the change of pace was nice. They nipped at each other’s lips, tongues tangling, blissfully unaware of their surroundings and how any number of people could find them at any moment.

Arthur finally pulled away to give Alfred an enamored smile, which Alfred returned along with a caress of Arthur’s cheek.

“I think I like being taller than you, Alfred. We should always kiss on the staircase from now on, don’t you agree?”

“As long as I get to kiss you, I’ll do whatever. Besides, you standing like that makes it really easy to do this.”

The angle allowed him to easily slip a hand under Arthur’s waistcoat, earning a delighted laugh that quickly turned into a moan as Alfred’s hand drifted higher and higher.

“Propriety, darling,” Arthur said, voice a bit breathless, although he wrapped his arms around Alfred and captured his lips in a kiss again immediately after.

Their kisses were pure fire then, and Alfred slipped the hand that wasn’t currently groping at Arthur’s chest to grope at his backside instead, eliciting noises from Arthur that were driving him mad with desire.

Just as Arthur started groping at Alfred in return, a disgusted scoff made them freeze, their eyes blown wide as Matthew passed them on the stairs with a dirty look.

“You know, it was annoying enough having to watch you two idiots pine after each other for years, I don’t need to see you have sex on the stairs now, too.”

Matthew shook his head as he continued grumbling under his breath, and Alfred and Arthur finally extricated themselves from each other when he was out of earshot. They quickly straightened their clothing, giving each other humiliated looks as they did, before they meekly followed after him.

[clocksfanfiction]

Hello hello! I hope that everything is going well with you! I just have a quick question: the regency era, ukus a/b/o snippets that you wrote... you wouldn't happen to have more of those aside from the two, right? Not to be dramatic or anything but I would literally sell my soul to you for a whole story or at the very least a few more snippets from that story. If not, I totally understand! I just want you to know that you're writing is beautiful

Hello hello indeed. 

Just for you anon, I do in fact have another I never finished. I’m giving fair warning here; it does not end in a satisfying way, it stops abruptly because I never finished it and I have no intentions of continuing to write it. I might one day come back to writing, but my time and energy these days just isn’t made for it. 

I never had a clear plot for this au, I just enjoy writing in that stupid flowery way and I love repressed idiot Arthur who has no idea how to handle his emotions and attraction to Alfred who is far too bold for his own good and doesn’t actually know how to handle his emotions any better. Eventually I imagine either Arthur confesses very badly to an annoyed and oblivious Alfred, or even worse he just proposes in the least romantic way possible. Give it a whole year of stolen eye contact and blushing and one or two scandalous brushes of fingers first. I never got to any of those points though.

I will, however, give you what I have written just because you asked so nicely and I hope you can enjoy it for what it is (with a grain of salt for the way it cuts off).

“My word!”

Alfred looked up from his book, eyes drawn towards the door where his father’s muffled voice had carried over the sound of the rain. It had been dreary all day and though Alfred had quite the mind that morning to get up and go and call on Miss Vogel, his mother had refused to let him leave out of fear from the rain. Alfred didn’t like the rain, but he wasn’t afraid of a little bit of it, but now glancing out into the growing storm he couldn’t help being quite glad his mother hadn’t allowed him to go.

The windows rattled with the force of the wind, prompting Alfred up out of his chair to shut the curtain in the hopes it would keep out some of the draft. However, glancing out of the window, he paused. Far below, through the blurry film of water upon the windowpane, Alfred caught sight of a shadowy figure approaching their doorstep.

Alfred frowned. They could have no visitor at this hour, and certainly not in such weather, but the sound of his father’s voice carrying up the stairs once again drew his attention back. Whoever it was was certainly unexpected, perhaps it was simply a messenger.

He shut the curtains, stopping briefly to retrieve his book before he wandered out onto the landing, curious to see if he could catch sight of the messenger before they left and pester his father for the contents of the message.

But as he crept down the stairs, he found no messenger standing in the doorway, but a very sodden looking Mr Arthur Kirkland trying to ward off the towels passed to him.

“Mr Jones this is very kind of you but I was only stopping-”

“Nonsense Mr Kirkland, it’s storming out there and I cannot have you heading further out into it. You will undoubtedly catch a chill and my wife will never forgive me for the loss of such a fine young man.”

“I do appreciate your concern but I am expected at my mother’s house-”

“Then I will send a message as soon as the rain clears ahead of you to apologise for holding you back. I would rather be reprimanded for making you late than be responsible for your illness, sir.”

Mr Kirkland once again opened his mouth to protest, but the words caught in his throat as Alfred took another step down and the wood creaked conspicuously beneath his foot. Both alphas turned in his direction, and Mr Kirkland’s expression flickered oddly, his mouth snapping shut against whatever protest he had previously been about to make.

“Sorry sir, should I have stayed upstairs?” Alfred turned slightly as if to retreat, though he had no interest in returning to his room when Mr Kirkland was stood dripping rainwater on their floor.

“Not at all Alfred,” His father smiled, though the expression was wry. “you would in fact be doing me much a service if you could convince Mr Kirkland not to run out into the rain again.”

Alfred turned his gaze to the alpha in question, though the moment their eyes met Mr Kirkland looked sharply away. Alfred was undeterred -- he’d grown used to the odd, stiff mannerisms of Mr Kirkland from the meetings they had so far enjoyed. At least, Alfred had enjoyed. He found Mr Kirkland more than a little intriguing.

Not to mention he could not help but find the way the rainwater dripped down his tensed jaw rather unbearably dashing.

“Well we cannot have that. You should allow us the pleasure of your company at dinner, Mr Kirkland, at least to excuse the puddle you are forming on our hallway floor.”

Mr Kirkland looked down self-consciously and had his cheeks and nose not already been flushed rosy with cold, Alfred was sure the alpha’s expression would have coloured with embarrassment.

“I, excuse me, I do apologise.”

Whatever easy eloquence with which he had been addressing Alfred’s father before seemed to have vanished; that caught and affected tone that so irritated and amused Alfred at once returning to his voice.

“There is nothing to apologise for, Mr Kirkland.” Mr Jones began again, grinning as a servant handed him another towel. “Though you should heed my son’s words and allow us the pleasure of your company.”

Mr Kirkland’s gaze lifted to Mr Jones, and for just a moment flickered to Alfred. He hesitated, once again some other comment on his lips that seemed to die as he turned from Alfred.

“It would be a pleasure to join you for dinner. But I do apologise for being such a terrible burden on your household.”

“Not at all, not at all Mr Kirkland.” Alfred watched as his father slung the towel around Mr Kirkland’s shoulders, pushing him gently towards the stairs which Alfred was quick to descend. “I’m sure my elder son’s clothes will be a fit for you, we must have you out of these sodden things at once or you will catch cold. Mary! Mary, show Mr Kirkland to our guest rooms…”

Alfred watched his father guide the servant about, looking up just in time to catch Mr Kirkland’s shy gaze upon him. Mr Kirkland was a strange alpha: though he exuded a kind of quiet confidence and pride among his peers, he became cold when made to socialise with any he didn’t already seem familiar with, and while he seemed to close in and shy away from all but a few of Alfred’s own looks, this was the third time Alfred had caught his gaze upon him. Another omega might well have been flattered, but the strange perceptive aura of Mr Kirkland’s handsome green eyes rather made Alfred feel that he was being picked apart for his flaws and not admired. Yet the man had asked him thrice to dance at the only two balls he had attended and blushed each time he’d had to take Alfred’s hand.

He was an odd enigma of an alpha, and Alfred took great pleasure in seeing the red upon his cheeks when he smiled at him as he passed up the stairs.

--

As it happened, Matthew’s clothes were the best fit in the house for Mr Kirkland. But Matthew was a slight taller than the other alpha, and broader too, which made the alpha appear slightly smaller than he really was. Alfred couldn’t help finding it just a little endearing, though he made sure to keep any sign of his thoughts out of his expression when Mr Kirkland joined them in the front room.

His hair was towel-dry, which only made the flyway strands sit lower than usual and his fringe fall into his eyes. He kept pushing it back in the most inconspicuous manner he could manage, though watching the hair fall into his eyes Alfred couldn’t quite ignore the desire to reach over and brush it aside for him. He didn’t of course, such an action was far too familiar and utterly improper -- but the thought of Mr Kirkland’s possible reaction did entertain Alfred.

Mr Kirkland was easily startled, oddly enough. Though Alfred had seen him unphased greeting an alpha who had clearly snuck up on him, he had once near jumped out of his skin when Alfred’s shoulder had accidentally brushed his in stepping too close.

He could only imagine that Mr Kirkland’s cheeks would colour delightfully if he were to brush his fringe from his eyes.

“You said you were heading to your father’s house, Mr Kirkland?”

Dinner had been served shortly after Mr Kirkland had dried and changed, which had been followed by an odd series of events wherein Matthew had made as subtle movement as he could to walk into the dining room immediately after Alfred. He couldn’t explain why, but they had ended up with an arrangement that left Mr Kirkland sitting opposite himself. If he were less rational he might have imagined that his family had engineered their seating for it.

“Yes sir. I prefer to ride from London, there isn’t much opportunity to get the horses out in the same way in town.”

[usukfics]

Alfred had been walking around shirtless a lot lately, and Arthur didn’t know why.

It was a hot summer, but not as hot as previous summers when Alfred kept his shirt on despite how overheated and sweaty he got. Alfred had a very nice body, but he was usually pretty shy about showing it off, too. There really seemed to be no reason for his sudden change in behavior.

Not that Arthur was complaining. He was quite enjoying the view, even if he knew it wasn’t right to be ogling his roommate’s bare chest every day. He’d come to terms years before that he was in love with Alfred, and a bare-chested Alfred shamelessly walking around wasn’t helping to cool his desire at all.

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[truthteller-lumen]

Nox (cynicallyinkless, fiveminutemeal, lorimer-no, etc) is an internet predator, a scammer, and a chronic liar. Here’s what you need to know.

He always made it seem like I had a choice and free will but… he manipulated me so bad that leaving wasn’t an option because I felt so bad for him. It’s so insidious. - one of Nox’s many ex-partners

Nox (Noximillian, Noxim Raven, Cynicallyinkless, @SirAlthair, @SirAlthairx,  fiveminutemeal, onehalfdime, lorimer-no) is an internet predator.

He has pursued teenagers and young women nearly 10 years his junior. He is 32 and his latest partner was 19.

He has emotionally abused his numerous partners via gaslighting, emotionally manipulative language, and negging, as well as other abusive tactics.

He has cheated on his partners with multiple other women_. _Though he claims to be in happily polyamorous relationships, many of the partners he was dating were not happy about the situation. He often kept the truth about his other partners from them.

He has lied about his entire identity to his partners, up to and including faking his own voice and sending pictures and nudes that were not of him. He also lied about other details of his life, such as his family structure (claiming his mother was dead and that he had adopted a daughter) and his educational status (claiming he had finished his degree), which leads to: 

He has accepted nearly $3500 from his friends in order to fund his education, then did not finish his degree. What the money was used for is unclear, but he took multiple expensive trips with his friends after receiving the cash.

Be aware. Know the facts. Protect yourself. If you’re in a relationship like this, seek help immediately. If you see the warning signs of a relationship like this, get out as fast as you can.

More information is below the cut.

Keep reading

[not-aph-england-deactivated2021]

A little longer (usuk)

Arthur was exhausted. He kept thinking to himself, just a little longer, now. Just a little longer. He had lost track of how long ago he had started that mantra. Much longer than he’d thought he could manage. But he was sure – as long as he kept his mind on it, as long as he held to that little, fading sparkle of magic, as long as he didn’t lose focus… they’d make it.

Alfred huffed and groaned but Arthur didn’t dare turn back. He couldn’t falter. He couldn’t let Alfred see his worry, his fear. His panic.

“Can’t we do anything about… that,” Alfred mumbled. He was dragging his sword on the marbles, the scrapping sound both annoying Arthur and keeping him grounded and focused.

Arthur shook his head. He didn’t need to see to know what Alfred meant. The shadows within the shadows. Lurking, watching, waiting for Arthur’s magic to extinguish so they could jump in, catch them.

“I’m sorry… but no, my prince. We’ll be reaching the fort soon. As long as my magic holds, you needn’t worry. We’re safe. Just a little longer, now.”

“Okay,” Alfred took a deep breathe. The sword stopped scrapping on the ground. Arthur almost stopped. He had been concentrating on that sound, and now that it was gone the sound of their footsteps alone felt all too silent. “I trust you, Arthur. I’ll be sure to reward you when we make it home.”

Arthur nodded, smiling.

“There’s no need, my prince. I’m just…”

“…doing your job, yeah. Royal sorcerer, I know. Still. I have no idea how you’re still standing. You were in a pretty bad shape when you reached me, and you’re still going. It’s impressive.”

“It’s… really not, I…”

Arthur stopped speaking when he felt Alfred’s arm suddenly around his waist. The support made him realize how heavy his body was, how cold it was, how… tired.

The light on his fingertips faltered and weakened. He held his breathe, feeling the shadows growing hungrier. Alfred was distracting him. That was bad. They were so close.

“You shouldn’t—” Arthur started.

“Shhh…” Alfred whispered, “just do your thing. Just for a little longer, right?”

Arthur couldn’t see it — he couldn’t see anything but the destination in his head, not even his own magic, burning faintly on his fingertips. He couldn’t see it, but he could feel the warm smile on Alfred’s lips. It was all he needed. Not a distraction, but a strength.

“Yes…” he said, “just a little longer.”

[usukfics]

England sees America before America sees him, but he doesn’t want to be the one to make the first move. He shoves his hands in his pockets, shifting his weight as he watches America scan the crowd. When America continues to look right past him, England scowls. As much as he doesn’t want to be the one to seek out America, he also doesn’t want him to get lost in the crowded airport. England clears his throat and speaks in a loud voice over the buzz of activity around him.

“Alfred F. Jones.”

America stops, his seldom used human alias catching his attention, and he looks wildly around until, finally, his attention settles on England. America’s face lights up in a smile, and England thinks that America puts the sun to shame with the warmth and brilliance in his smile before he catches himself in his sentimentality.

Keep reading

[clocksfanfiction]

Arthur tried his best not to glare as he leaned against the doorframe, settled uncomfortably in the purgatory of within the party and without at the same time. His hand itched, wishing he’d kept a hold of his glass of champagne but he refused to return sheepishly to the festivities to retrieve it now. Just as well, if he was seen to be brooding with a glass of alcohol some snide comment would inevitably come his way and ruin what slivers of good mood he still retained. Which was of course why he was trying his best not to frown, not wanting to give the slightest bit of ammunition this year.

“Just how long are you gonna stand there pretending you’re not mad?”

His head turned, the familiar drawl drawing him back to reality as his eyes landed on Alfred Jones. Smug bastard. Staring at him with that all too knowing smile and the audacity to touch it with sympathy. Acting far too much that he could read Arthur like a book. Which he could, of course, but Arthur still refused to acknowledge the fact.

“And what if I’m genuinely not mad?” He replied dryly, raising an eyebrow at his not entirely unwanted companion. Fed up as he was with the party he couldn’t deny that he enjoyed Alfred’s presence. Whether he’d say it aloud or not. 

Alfred sauntered closer - sauntered, not walked, as if everything he did had a legal requirement to drip with the boundless confidence he seemed to have. Irritating, and attractive, and irritating that Arthur found it so attractive.

“Am I required to believe that?” Alfred asked with that annoying, attractive low voice and a smile that just briefly showed off those perfect pearly whites. It was like he was put on the earth to be Arthur’s perfect man.

And Arthur, being Arthur, naturally resented him for it.

“Shockingly enough it doesn’t matter to me what you do or don’t believe.” Arthur huffed, adjusting his stance to stand a little straighter. Alfred was annoyingly tall, (because *of course* he had to be) a fact which only became more evident the closer he got.

Alfred merely chuckled, an expression he threw over his shoulder to observe the party as he teetered on the edge of invading Arthur’s personal space. Arthur wished he would.

Quiet hung between them for a long few moments, Alfred observing the movement of people further inside the room and Arthur pretending he wasn’t studying the handsome profile of Alfred’s annoying face. Not uncomfortable. Surprising even in the midst of a party so large that they could be at ease with one another’s quiet.

“Do you know where you’re standing?” Alfred asked when he finally turned his attention back to Arthur, as if he’d only been waiting the entire time to ask that very question.

“In the doorway?” Arthur asked, obvious, deadpan, unimpressed with whatever joke or meaningful comment Alfred had cooked up to try and persuade him back into the room. He was difficult like that. Everyone had to be happy. Arthur flatly refused to comply with it as a matter of principle.

Alfred chuckled again, that annoying, handsome, know it all chuckle. It always gave Arthur the impression that he was at once being laughed at and being drawn in. Arthur preferred to ignore both. He would have done so on that occasion too if Alfred hadn’t boldly stepped himself firmly into Arthur’s space. Arthur tried not to stare at him, which was exceedingly difficult when Alfred was suddenly occupying at least 60% of his vision and he’d done far more staring with far far less.

“You don’t think there’d be a party without any mistletoe, hm?”

It was a physical fight not to immediately look up, eagerness, shock, and a desire to believe in a little bit of romcom fantasy trying to jerk the muscles in Arthur’s neck immediately back. He wasn’t naive enough to jump in so easily though, huffing a breath that was just one stop short of a snort as he stared up at Alfred.

“Do you use that line-” He began, only to cut himself off abruptly as his slow gaze upward landed readily on a very obvious and very real bough of mistletoe. 

He let himself stare then, unabashed, mouth falling slightly open in shock that the ridiculous romcom suggestion was, in fact, the reality. He ignored Alfred’s laugh, but he had far more difficulty ignoring the honeyed tone the American adopted when his eyes finally lowered to Alfred’s again.

“You don’t subscribe to the traditions of mistletoe?” Alfred asked, with all the smug confidence of a man who knew damned well he was about to get what he wanted.

On principle, Arthur wanted to deny him just that. But Alfred’s gaze kept flickering to his lips and Alfred’s warmth was soaking into his skin the further he moved into Arthur’s space and Arthur had to think that he had, after all, been very, very good this year.

“I didn’t say that.” Arthur replied, barely more than a breath just in time to see Alfred’s grin before he was being kissed, and kissed, and kissed.

Probably a little more deeply than was entirely appropriate for so public an occasion, but hell, it was Christmas.

[britishshinshi]

Rumors

Cassandra Seychelles hated Arthur Kirkland. Student council president or not, she hated everything about Arthur Kirkland. She was his secretary, therefore, Arthur made her work at full capacity. Do this, do that - the man seems to think she was some robot that didn’t need charging. It was December, and it was tradition for the Student Council to host a Winter Formal for the students in World Academy. 

And of course Arthur had to overwork everyone in the student council, especially Cassandra. You’re the secretary, he says, you’re the one who signed up for this position, he reminds her everyday, meet expectations unless you want to get fired.

Ooh, she abhorred that stupid, uptight little gremlin to the core. He thinks he’s some kind of dictator just because he has a high position in the academy; always ordering people around, expecting everyone to be at his bidding.

Despite Arthur’s harsh guidance, the Winter Formal turned out to be a success. The decorations were beautiful, the food was delicious (actually, that was mostly Francis), everyone was having a great time, no last minute situations happened because the event was so thoroughly planned, there was nothing for Cassandra and the other officers to worry about. And it was all because of Arthur.

Sure the mean president is capable of handling his job and he excelled expectations… that doesn’t mean she can forgive him so easily!

Keep reading

[clocksfanfiction]

ur baking au is perfection

Thank you I do not remember making most of the post

[clocksfanfiction]

why are you looking at my bakeoff au how did you even find that it's been months lads wtf who's been deep in what tag

[alifeasvivid]

If It’s You, a USUK fanfic

This is based off of a prompt from @nopeferatu, in which @irisoflunadreams has already beaten me in filling. There was going to be smut originally, but if I try to add that in now, I’ll never finish it. I hope you enjoy!

Rating: T+/M Warnings: A 17 y/o and an 18 y/o making out, discussions of sexuality Summary: Alfred is gay. His best friend Arthur is definitely straight. So even if Alfred has a major crush on him, it’ll always be unrequited, right? Word Count: ~3100

Read here on AO3.

Seventeen year old Alfred F. Jones is in love with his best friend, which could have been totally awesome if his best friend weren’t very decidedly straight.

In elementary school, ten year old Arthur Kirkland had been the nerdy new kid with a funny accent that no one wanted to talk to. Except Alfred. Alfred had adored Arthur from the moment he saw him and his caterpillar eyebrows.

All throughout middle school, they were stuck together like glue. Alfred, perpetually “husky” with a monstrous appetite, developed a taste for computers and video games, as well as flag football; Arthur kept his blemish-covered nose in his books, got perfect grades and smiled indulgently at Alfred’s exuberance with a mouthful of braces.

Keep reading

[clocksfanfiction]

for anyone who's been curious about what I've been doing while not writing fics, today I stared at a pair of jeans that I wore almost every day this summer trying to work out who they belonged to and how they had ended up in my drawer and if, though they fit me perfectly, I had accidentally stolen them from friends who are half a foot shorter than me. I have a bachelor's degree.

[clocksfanfiction]

Drive The Clouds Away

I return only to wish the biggest of happy birthdays to @skullycloud (uwus and hearts and stuff). Big love and big appreciation blah blah I’m shockingly bad with words.

She’s told me lately some disgustingly romantic things she’s been getting up to which genuinely destroy my hopeless romantic heart so I hope you don’t mind me laying the gay on just as thick in his (smol) fic. Happy birthday you stunning individual I hope it’s real gay.

Pairing: USUK/Libertea/Beiei Rating: SFW Wordcount: 957 In progress/Complete Misc: Cardverse, oh she fluffy Summary: My sweetest hello.

The sun filtering bright through the curtains was the first indication to Alfred that he had overslept. The second was the insistent knocking upon the chamber doors, accompanied by Yao’s voice informing him that the carriages were coming across the bridge and asking if he actually wished to be presentable or if he should explain to the queen that his husband was still drooling into his pillow. Alfred responded by crashing out of the room, very nearly bowling the Jack over in the process and barely remembering to grab his glasses and a robe.

Yao called after him, as did a handful of servants that he nearly smacked into on his frantic journey through the castle, but he paid none of them or the freezing stone floor any mind. He could apologise later. There were far more important things at hand and he was late for them.

How he’d managed to be late was a wonder. He’d been looking forward to this day for weeks, aching for it, hurting so badly for it to come that Yao had been forced to explain in detail why exactly the kingdom could not be left monarchless while he went uninvited into Hearts purely because he missed his husband. He’d planned out his exact morning routine to best keep the anticipatory jitters away as his traitorous internal body clock always woke him early. Yet none of it was needed, body clock traitorous in an entirely different manner that left him barrelling through the halls of the castle in only his pajamas to the confusion and humoured delight of castle staff.

He skidded to a stop in the entry hall to the sound of nearby — close, so close — hooves and the chatter of the unloading process, muffled by the great wooden doors that marked the entrance to Castle Spades. Too much, not enough. Just the doors, just the doors and a few feet of walkway, a handful of steps, steps that Alfred was already taking at a hurried walk. The creak of the ancient wood indicated their opening before they even began to move, giving way to a harsh stream of early winter light and a figure swathed in a heavy purple coat. 

Alfred dropped the robe he’d been carrying, neglected to put it on against the cold he was so known to despise, uncaring for now as his body kept warm on adrenaline alone. His chest ached, either from his desperate run that had rushed his breath to panting, or the shine of those green eyes as they landed on him and widened.

Arthur was running before he was, a couple of stumbled steps turning fast into a sprint that had him crashing into Alfred in the embrace they’d both been waiting weeks for. So violent an embrace that it had them nearly falling but Alfred used the momentum to swing Arthur up into his arms, careening back a little but he couldn’t care when Arthur was suddenly dragging his face up to kiss him with an intensity that nearly buckled his knees.

“I missed you, I missed you so much sweetheart.” It took Alfred a moment to even realise the words were coming from him, swallowed up by Arthur’s lips and the fervent, precious way he breathed his name in return.

“Diplomacy is not worth the ache of being away from you.” Arthur muttered when they finally broke from one another, chests heaving with the need for breath and all the lighter for getting to look at one another’s faces once more. His hands threaded up through Alfred’s tangled, messy hair, eyes scanning across his face as if refamiliarising himself with each minute detail he’d missed so fiercely. “You’re wearing pajamas.” He stated, rough throat betraying the discomfort of travelling for several days by carriage, but Alfred could only grin dumbly at the beautiful sound of his husband’s voice.

“I overslept. I was up all night missing you.” 

A stupid, painfully soppy reply that was the unfortunate truth and Arthur, travel-weary and disheveled as a man pulled from hell offered in return the sweetest of smiles reserved only for Alfred. He kissed Arthur again for it, kissing that beautiful, wonderful, perfect smile until the adrenaline tapered out and forced him to put his husband gently upon the ground once more.

“You’ll catch your death of cold like this.” Arthur muttered, though he made no effort to part their lips even to speak, prompting a laugh from Alfred even as he shivered. The stone floor was frozen against his feet, made worse still by the open doors that invited in the winter wind, but he had no intention of moving so long as Arthur was still kissing him. Arthur didn’t seem to agree, though he busied himself with more kisses pressed across his husband’s stubbly cheek.

“Then you’ll just have to take care of me.” Alfred laughed in response, though he moved his arms to wrap around Arthur from under his coat, prompting only a mild noise of objection as the smaller man was tugged in close.

“Or you could return to bed before you get ill.” Arthur replied dryly, prompting a fond ache into Alfred’s chest as he again bore the weight of Arthur’s familiar concerned chastising. Reading it in his regular letters didn’t have at all the same effect as his soothing, blunt tone of voice.

“Only if you’re coming.” Alfred replied cheekily in kind, room enough finally between them to look into one another’s eyes. Loving, intense looks that spoke of the longing they had endured and only softened as Arthur leaned up close once more, his hands upon Alfred’s faintly rosy cheeks.

“My darling I have no intentions of spending a moment away from you.”

[clocksfanfiction]

Anyone want a usuk content creator GC that I will literally never read after I make it

[beyondplusultra]

they are dorks and they’re acting married, therefore they must be dorks that are married

[clocksfanfiction]

This is me, typing up a full minature lecture about the American Revolution and its actual place in the history of the British Empire before realising that Hetalia fans' lack of understanding of history is exactly why I gave up ever trying to explain anything.