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So, I have finally gotten around to creating both a FanFiction.net account and an Archive of Our Own for myself and have begun the slow process of sorting through my fics and uploading them. So, as I post them up I will also be posting the links.
That being said, not all of my fics will be going up on these accounts, so if you see something missing then don’t fret. I either haven’t gotten around to uploading it yet, or I do not plan on uploading it at all.
Anyway, thank you for reading. Hope you have a good day/week!
Pairing(s): Red Velvet pancakes (1p!Canada x 2p!Canada)
Summary: James accompanies his brother Al to get a tattoo from a tattoo artist who makes his heart do funny things.
Warning: Rated G
A/N: This was written as a birthday present for @kaiservonpotato who deserves all the love today.
P.S. I chose to name 2p!Can James rather than Matt... it just means less confusion.
James sighed as he settled down into the seat next to the tattoo chair and wondered how Al’s bullshit story about sibling bonding had managed to convince him to come along. Next to him, Al was grinning.
“You know, I really appreciate you tagging along, bro. How often do we get to do this kind of stuff?”
“Mmm.” James grunted.
“You’re absolutely right. We should do this more often.” Al said, grinning.
“You’re an ass.” He said.
“Love you too.” Came the reply.
James sighed and rolled his eyes, slipping his dark sunglasses on to lessen the burn of the bright overhead lights on his sensitive, bloodshot eyes. Al busied himself with inspecting the work that he’d already had done.
Just then, somebody walked in. “Oh hi there! I’m so sorry about the wait, Al.”
The stranger’s voice was soft and melodic, and distinctly out of place in a tattoo parlour. It caught James’ attention and drew his gaze up from where it rested on his feet. The sight of the voice’s owner also came as a shock. Tall and thin, with wavy hair the colour of wheat that just barely brushed his shoulders, the man was stunning. He turned his eyes to James, and his heart did flip-flops in his chest.
Next to him, Al smirked.
“Hello, my name’s Matthew. You are?”
“James.” He said, his own name feeling clumsy and awkward on his tongue.
Matthew smiled. “Nice to meet you James. Al usually never brings anybody along to his sessions.”
Al shrugged. “Yeah, well, this is our brotherly bonding activity for the year.”
Matthew nodded almost knowingly and sat down on the stool next to Al. They spent a moment talking over Al’s tattoo, and then the steady humming of the needle filled the room and both of them fell silent. Matthew’s body blocked most of James’ view of his brother, but he didn’t mind all that much. He enjoyed admiring Matthew’s slim form and the way his hair fell over his shoulders as he worked. He also noticed the hint of a tattoo on the back of his neck.
“There we go, all done.” Matthew said, sitting back a little bit.
James blinked and looked around at the clock on the wall and noticed that both hands were resting on the twelve. When they had come in, it had only been ten.
Al spoke next. “Ah, thanks again, Mattie. It looks great.”
“It’s coming along.” He agreed. “One more session and I think we’ll be done.”
Al stood up and grinned at James, who only nodded slightly in acknowledgement. Matthew also looked back at him.
“It was very nice of you to come with him. Al’s very used to the pain, so it can be a little tedious just sitting there.”
There was an awkward silence as James’ brain scrambled for something to say.
“Oh yeah, he’s just that kind of guy, y’know?” Al said, coming over and slinging his arm (the one that did not sport the freshly inked tattoo) around him. “Real considerate.”
Matthew laughed, and James swore his heart stopped.
“Well then, I’ll see you next time, Al.”
“Yup!” He said, leading James out, arm still around his shoulders.
“Matthew followed them and watched them from the doorway. “Be sure to come back anytime, too, James.”
“I-I… I guess…”
Al laughed in his ear. “Don’t you worry, Mattie, I’ll bring him along next time!”
Matthew waved them off and returned to his room. James stood with Al as he paid for his tattoo and the two emerged back into the busy streets of their hometown.
“See, didn’t I say it would be fun?” Al asked.
“Mmm.” James grunted, shoving his hands deep into his pockets.
Al grinned and James felt a burning need to wipe the look off of his brother’s face.
“Mattie’s real pretty, ain’t he?”
“Mmm.”
Al snorted and the two continued walking in silence for a while.
“Hey, maybe when you come along next time, you could get some ink.”
The thought of Matthew’s hands on him, gently massaging his bicep in a silent gesture of comfort did things to him and he had to focus on keeping his breathing steady and putting one foot in front of the other. Al, as if sensing what his brother was thinking, smirked again.
Part of my trade with @tasteless-combination <3 This may or may not be my first finished Potteralia pic!
Thank you Haki for letting me trade with you! ｡ﾟ.(*♡´◡` 人´◡` ♡*)ﾟ °・
Sorry this is a tad bit late and a tad bit short, but I didn’t pay close attention to today’s date. This was an interesting prompt to write for because it’s my favourite pairing doing my least favourite thing ever. Originally I was also going to have them playing rugby, but I settled for soccer. Seemed more English/Scottish/Irish/Welsh that way ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
P.S. Scotland = Allistor, Ireland = Collin, Wales = Ty.
Enjoy!
“He ran right past you, for God’s sake!” Collin bellowed as Allistor ran yet another goal past Arthur.
Arthur bristled and shot him the bird. It wasn’t his fault he kept getting distracted and letting goals through, it was Allistor’s. If he wasn’t wearing those bloody shorts, then he’d be able to keep his head in the game.
“Pull your tongue back in your head and play,” Ty shouted from the other end of their rudimentary football field.
“Oh sod off!” He shouted in reply, forcing himself to refocus on the football and the game at hand.
(((I love Hamilton the musical, so it only made sense to combine it with my other love: Hetalia. Right now, this is just a small drabble I did for @kaiservonpotato in the span of 10 minutes. I do actually plan on going all out and writing a big, multi-chaptered crossover between the two when I have the time and skill. For now, however, just enjoy the random drabbles I am going to produce. Alfred’s Hamilton in this (obviously), and Arthur’s Angelica.)))
Nervous didn’t even begin to cover what Alfred felt right now. Men and women embraced each other on the dancefloor, creating lovely patterns as they waltzed. Their outfits were exquisite, a stark contrast to his own scuffed and patched uniform, the only thing he owned that was appropriate for an event of this calibre.
His discomfort grew as he came to realise that the general didn’t seem to be here yet, and he quickly scanned the room for an exit, desperate to be anywhere other than here. His eyes raked over the crowd, pausing on a particularly well dressed gentleman in the process.
Something about him was captivating and Alfred found himself unable, and unwilling, to look away. As if sensing his eyes on him, the gentleman met his gaze and held it, a small bemused smirk gracing his lips. Never breaking eye contact with Alfred, he excused himself from the young woman he was with, and made his way across the room.
“Hello.” He said once he was within earshot. “I don’t recall having seen you around town before. My name is Arthur Kirkland.” He extended a gloved hand, which Alfred eagerly took and shook.
“Alfred F. Jones.”
“Where’s your family from, Jones?” Arthur asked, withdrawing his hand.
Alfred grinned, feeling a little more confident in himself. “That’s unimportant, sir.”
Arthur’s eyebrows rose at that and that same bemused smirk returned. “Is that right?”
“There’s a million things I haven’t done, sir, and I would rather history judge me for what I have done rather than from where I come from.”
Okay, I just want to start off by apologising for my long, unannounced absence from tumblr. My excuse? Sometimes real life just take over and punches you in the kidney. Over the last few months I really missed the many friends I have made on here and the act of actually writing itself.
So, I will be to try and write as much as I physically can before the start of my next semester both as a means of apologising and preparing for my upcoming intro to creative writing class. I can’t start right away because I still have a major Japanese exam I need to study for (it’s worth 80% of my grade, orz) and a Politics online exam I should brush up on, but I swear as soon as those things are done and out of the way, I will be picking up the pen yet again.
I also want to quickly announce that I am also extending the date of my 100 follower giveaway as I myself missed the end date. So there’s still plenty of chances to increase your chances of winning a personalised Hetalia fan-fiction in the mail.
I’m not going in order because a certain @katryusha won’t let me XD. Also, I’d like to thank her for being my beta.
Also, ugly title is ugly.
Prompt Number Four: High School AU Click here for the first one.
‘Arthur Kirkland is bae af’
Emerald eyes widened and the golden-haired Brit parted his lips in partial surprise. Who knew that words haphazardly scribbled across a bathroom stall could bring someone such conflicted feelings?
“See? It’s as I told you.” Francis said with a smirk, patting his friend on the shoulder. “Someone wrote that about you on a bathroom stall. Didn’t I just make your day better?”
Thick brows furrowed and Arthur ran his finger across the fading markered words, the corners of his lips twitching down momentarily as he tried to place the handwriting. Where had he seen it before?
This was from a list of prompts my friend and I compiled. I wasn’t supposed to post it… but I was bored lmao
Thank you to the ever-so-sinful @katryusha for beta-ing my trash. Love ya!
Alfred hated winter.
Three calendar months full of the biting cold… laughter and cheesy movie marathons just to remind you how lonely you really are… people all over the world decorating their houses with enough Christmas lights to give a small village enough electricity for a century… and it wasn’t that Alfred wasn’t a believer of such things, for if you’d asked him about it only two years ago, you’d see a different person. Not the cold, empty shell of what once was. Which was what he was right now.
If that made any sense.
Winter was full of things that put a twitch in his eye. The crunching of the snow under his worn boots, the ringing of bells around every corner, the people who slept outside Walmart for the next big sale, only to return with three or four measly bags and a black eye…
This time of the year was one stone’s throw away from what Alfred would define as ‘the apocalypse’.
“If I ever meet this clown, I’m gonna kill him. Nice and slow.” Alfred growled, tugging at his sleeve once again, his cheeks a ruddy red as he sipped his coke. “And if anyone else asks me about my mark, I’ll slay them too.”
