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kirkland-bros-and-more 4 days ago
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Time for another incredibly self indulgent au that no one will care about
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kirkland-bros-and-more 5 days ago
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I published it yesterday in Ao3 and FF.net, but I have decided to bring it to tumblr for @hwsrarepairweek2022, along with the rest of the prompts.聽 I鈥檓 not used to write in English, and I don鈥檛 have enough skills,聽so I have decided to publish directly in my native language: Spanish.聽 Description: Ireland searchs somewhere to hide from the warm noon.聽 Writen for Day 1: Writer & Artist.聽 I hope you like it!聽
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kirkland-bros-and-more 5 days ago
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Another picrew for DAY 3 of @hwsrarepairweek2022 Flowers
This is a more teen ScotFra when they were starting to have feelings for each other and used to give flowers as a present to each other
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Original link of picrew
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house-ad 3 days ago
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Why lava? Cuz we know a lot about podcasts but in Pocket Casts we have no clue about backgrounds.
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kirkland-bros-and-more 5 days ago
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In the Trenches
For the second day of @hwsrarepairweek2022
The theme for today was Hurt/Comfort.
Plot: Scotland runs into France in a compromising position during the first World War.
Characters: Scotland, France
Pairing: Auld Alliance (ScoFra)
Word Count: 1.6K
Content Warning: Injuries and mentions of death.
Keep reading
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kirkland-bros-and-more 5 days ago
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In the Trenches
For the second day of @hwsrarepairweek2022
The theme for today was Hurt/Comfort.
Plot: Scotland runs into France in a compromising position during the first World War.
Characters: Scotland, France
Pairing: Auld Alliance (ScoFra)
Word Count: 1.6K
Content Warning: Injuries and mentions of death.
Seguir leyendo
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kirkland-bros-and-more 5 days ago
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Poland and Hungary not having at least ONE (1) interaction in Hetalia is a crime
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kirkland-bros-and-more 5 days ago
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TW: BLOOD
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This is for the Day 2 of @hwsrarepairweek2022 Hurt/Comfort
I did a picrew, link here
This is ScotFra during the WWII when France was liberated by the allies, France would be really hurt and Scotland will go to him to hug him as much as he can and not letting France go, to keep him safe, to make him protected, trying to tell France, Germany wasn't going to go for him again.
The comfort France felt when he was in Scotland's arms after so long, he was hurt, he barely couldn't feel anything more than hurt and desesperation and feelt unbelievable Scotland was there next to him
On the other side, Scotland fought during those 4 years, not only France but his own brother was terribly injured, he felt like he failed both of them, his brother and his boyfriend, he couldn't protect them from the pain, for Alistair it was a rough time mentally saying but he would never forget the day he saw France and went to his arms, scared to hug hard because he felt it will break Francis in two, he couldn't avoid the tears even though he needed to be strong for the two of them, he knew what he felt was nothing compared with Francis' situation but still he wished he could have protected him, there was a time he really feel he was losing the most important persons Alistair has in his life but it was Francis' little smile what made Alistair feel relieved, Francis was safe and now he only wanted to take care of him
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kirkland-bros-and-more 6 days ago
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Please, I'm begging. More Scotland and Baby Canada.
We've got an awkward ball of anxiety, the world's best uncle and Arthur in mourning. It's just after the amrev and Matt's a gawky wee baby. And somehow even more pitiful than usual. 馃槶.
England, 1790s.
If anyone had asked, Matthew wouldn't remember what woke him. Not a dream, maybe memory. Whatever the cause, it certainly hadn't been long enough since he last froze to death.
He sat there a moment, heaving, tearing up and trying not to cry. He can see his breath coming in puffs. Midnight is oppressive and heavy on his chest. He can't get his breath. The dark is leaden, his skin is far too warm, the air far too cold. There is a drumming pounding in his head, and he knows it to be his pulse because it matches the throb in his chest. He's scared and he doesn't know why.
Moments after he's awake, nausea lights up in his guts, and he's barely before the basin stand before he's sick into what should be the morning's wash water. Stupid. Stupid. Better than the floor he'd have to clean up, but so stupid. Someone's going to shout at him for that. The bed creaked under him, and he was so cold and his skin felt so sensitive, he couldn't seem to wipe his watery eyes fast enough before he was crying. The bedroom was freezing. Getting under the covers again would do nothing now, but he did anyway. The narrow bed in the little summer bedroom was cold, too far from the central hearth. It lacked its own fireplace. Sleeping in his blankets on the kitchen floor would be warmest, now, since no one had remembered to help him move the single steamer-trunk of his possessions to a warmer bedroom. But sleeping on the kitchen floor, he'd eventually fall asleep, and the cook would trip over him on her way to do the morning baking, and he'd ruin breakfast again, set Father off like a hurricane before he'd had tea. And that would come after he was shouted at, if not stepped on before the cook realized he was there.
Where else, where else? His body tremored. The housekeeper would have put out the parlour fire and the one in father's study. The barn was always warm with the body heat of the animals, but the thought of bedding down in the hay and the smell of the horses made his empty stomach roil.
He buried his face in the pillow and missed Alfred so much his chest hurt. Alfred would have let him slide in under the covers and steal all the body heat he liked, and only called him a leech when he laughed and ruffled his hair. Matt had once thought leech was English for something nice, Alfred said it so affectionately. He hugged himself and swallowed. Everything ached. He wanted his brother. Father would make sure to point out he was too old to be crying. Alfred shouted back when anyone ever raised their voices at Matthew's and got in the faces of whoever had words he didn't like for his baby brother.
He could try father, if it got much colder. Father would be grumpy as a spring bear if Matthew woke him. He'd gone out with important people in big hats and shiny boots. But if he was very quiet, Matthew could curl up on the bench at the end of the bed with the big overstuffed velvet cushion. Father likely wouldn't even notice as he stumbled down to breakfast smelling like the gin distillery, all bleary-eyed and angry. But worse would be the guilty flash Arthur would let him see for a moment if he did notice. Apologies wouldn't be said, but it would soften reality for a moment. The ledgers of fish, lumber, and wheat that passed through father's ships had to be accounted for, noticed and kept track of. But he was, as father pointed out, sensible and always where he was supposed to be and always doing what he was supposed to be doing.
His vision swam and he gasped, dizzy. He wondered if something was wrong in Halifax. Usually fishing was awful if he felt this terrible.
Halifax. Nova Scotia. He started crying again. Uncle Alasdair had arrived, and he was Nova Scotia now. His uncle didn't mind leeches at all, only flicked them off and laughed and laughed. Alasdair was warm and he liked Matthew. Trembling, he shot down the hall through the dark. Not as fast as he thought, it hurt a little to inhale, and he couldn't quite get his breath, but the door to his Uncle's bedroom felt like balm.
He opened it slowly to avoid the creak, shut it behind him. Alasdair was much larger than father, broad, and he snored like a gentle moose call and Matt cried more when he crawled under the covers and Alasdair automatically opened his arms, turned on his side and held him without waking. He was burying his face in his shirt when his uncle woke properly and cradled him in the crook of his arm.
鈥淎ch,鈥 Came the sympathetic sound. 鈥淟ad, you're frozen,鈥
Acknowledged without accusation, Matthew pressed himself in tighter and Alasdair squeezed him. Father always asked what he had done to himself this time. Even when he said it with a gentle tongue click and a shake of his head, it was clearly Matt's own doing.
Alasdair made questioning words, sounds Matthew didn't catch because his Uncle was warm, and he was shaking. Alasdair sat up, alarmed, covers pooling to his waist. He made Gaelic sounds Matt knew were meant to call him.
鈥淐ome here, Alasdair said, and gently nudged Matt down from the death hold around his neck to a more comfortable cradle in his arms as he rested against the headboard. He was getting to gangly to go crying to his uncle but he almost didn't care as the sick feeling was quickly abating.
鈥淲hat's the matter?鈥 His uncle brushed the hair off his head.
Matt just twisted around, ashamed that he felt so much better just being held. He still felt off, but nothing bad could happen to him with his uncle around.
"Matthew," His uncle sighed.
He responded by shuffling further under Alasdair's arm and pressing his cheek to his uncle's chest and his forehead in the notch between his shoulder and clavicle. His uncle's heartbeat was the steady cadence of a snare drum, and he shut his eyes against it. He felt a kiss to his head and forgot, for a moment, it was selfish to have woken Uncle Alasdair.
鈥淵ou're as clammy as a frog, lad. What's wrong?鈥
He was a frog. Nothing but a frog. Matthew didn't know how to say it was mostly loneliness, that his room was as cold as the north side of a January gravestone and he was scared shitless of something he couldn't remember. That at least at home he knew how things grew and could speak easily and he missed home. Saying so was complaining and complaining was ingratitude. He was a small, unprofitable colony and his own household would have been expensive, so in England he had stayed.
His uncle spoke again and Matthew was too tired to translate it. He heard the term for him, though, _a bhobain._ Bobbin. He thought he might come loose and unravel like fine silk sewing thread.
Stomach aching, his crying began again in earnest. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been held, and the thought startled him.
鈥淚 missed you,鈥 Matthew blurted, feeling like the most ungrateful child to ever grace the earth. Arthur fed, clothed and housed him without much griping. He wasn't hit. No one minded where he went or how he spent his days. He could spend all day in the moors wandering about if he liked and no one would comment unless he'd done something to his clothing he couldn't mend himself. The library was full of things he could read without comment. He had his chores and no one cared when they were done, so long as they were.
鈥淎h, lad,鈥 His Uncle squeezed him. 鈥淗as your father been away again? It's lonely when we're overseas,鈥
鈥淣o,鈥 Matthew wriggled over. 鈥淗e's been home."
鈥淎h,鈥 Alasdair made a knowing sound. 鈥淗as he been on you again?鈥
鈥淣o. Not at all.鈥 Matthew hiccoughed, another sob smaller and fading. "He hasn't had anything to say to me in awhile,"
Alasdair sighed and held him close as he laid back down. "That would be lonely. Feeling better lad?"
Buried in the blankets and curled up against him, he was fine now.
"Yes," Matthew replied, ashamed of himself. "I'm sorry I woke you,"
"Don't be. You're always a joy to see. My own wee nephew."
Matthew grinned, despite himself. It was vanity to have bothered him but he was so warm and Matt's body so tired.
"I'm going to bring you to Edinburgh with me. Can't be doing without you, Matthew. You're two very important things."
He thought his uncle a bit delusional sometimes, finding any use for him but he wasn't about to complain. "Two?" .
"Nova," Alasdair curled one arm around him. "Scotia," The other joined the embrace and Alasdair laughed, squeezing him. "Pride and my joy, you are."
Tears welled up, unbidden. He squeezed his eyes shut and Alasdair tucked him against his chest, resting his chin on Matthew's crown. His heart beat was even and Matt felt himself begin to drift.
"I missed you." He said again.
"And I missed you. England's a lonely place," Alasdair replied softly. "Be well, you poor thing. Sleep, now."
He did.
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kirkland-bros-and-more 6 days ago
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DAY 1 OF @hwsrarepairweek2022 Writer/Artist
I'm on the need and feel to make bigger the ScotFra nation rise, I'm tired of reading the same 216 fanfics in AO3 and many of them are like past ScotFra like??? I WANT THEM TO KISS EACH OTHER THANK YOU
So yeah, I'll be working in summer but I'll try to write some fics, I have already some ideas and I would like to make the entire week but I can't promise anything
Another thing, I'm a native Spanish speaker, I don't have enough confidence to write a fanfic in English so the fanfics I write are in Spanish, if you have the option to translate the web sites in other languages to your native one then I hope you like it, if you just let me know if you want me to use the Google translator to have the English version of the fanfic
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kirkland-bros-and-more 6 days ago
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A Love Story in Moulin Rouge
Rarepair Hetalia Week - DAY I - Writer and Artist
First work for @hwsrarepairweek2022! - a blue toned ScotFra from the roleplaying AU with @greengreekeyes25. We have posted some work last week, and for the record we did Scotland as writer and Francis as the main attraction... before this challenge! They deserve more love so here you are! it's a traditional work, hope you like it and see you tomorrow~
Francis has the best legs in Europe it's my HC and should be canon
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house-ad 2 months ago
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kirkland-bros-and-more 9 days ago
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Probably not exactly what the producers were thinking about, but I like to think someone working in the series Sin L铆mites is part of the Spain and Portugal sun and moon trope XD
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kirkland-bros-and-more 9 days ago
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I am JUST SAYING聽Pied Piper is LITERALLY about spaport i am just saying and i鈥檒l stand by that
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kirkland-bros-and-more 10 days ago
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Headcanon not all the Kirkland brothers know how to speak each other native language
There is English which all of them know how to speak it (Even though Scotland tries to destroy it the best he can)
Then we have Ireland (Republic) and Scotland who know how to speak Gaelic (Irish and Scottish), Northern Ireland knows some basic level of Irish but is still learning
And then there is Wales with Welsh which is the only one in the family capable of speaking it, the others have no idea
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kirkland-bros-and-more 11 days ago
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Traditional collab with @greengreekeyes25. One of our fav OTP in common, France and Scotland. We are fans of rare and unpopular pairings LOL This is a Moulin Rouge humanAU! she had the idea to do it, and we are roleplaying it. So I did the lineart of a scene in here and she came to my home and colored it~ she has a magnificient talent with lights!
Hope she put the other fanart she did soon~
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kirkland-bros-and-more 12 days ago
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Hetalia: *England and France fighting over who is going to be America's OLDER BROTHER, America chooses England as a OLDER BROTHER then France says to Canada he is going to be his OLDER BROTHER*
The fandom: *Their kids*
馃拃馃拃馃拃馃拃馃拃
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kirkland-bros-and-more 12 days ago
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Drawing about a Roleplay from @rosesandalfazemas and me, scotfra in The Moulin Rouge, based on the famous movie. The color was a real headache, but finally was a good excercise. Thanks to My friend, our roles are a great inspiration to me :3
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kirkland-bros-and-more 14 days ago
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Time to spread the ScotFra, SpaPort and Asakiku supremacy
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Time to appreciate all of our underappreciated ships! The seventh annual HWS Rare Pair Week this year will be the week of June 20-26 and will be dedicated to making content for ships that don鈥檛 see enough action in the fandom! Each day of the week will have a different theme for you to make ship content around!
The rules are pretty simple:
Follow this blog if you want to stay updated!
No racist, lgbtq-phobic, or otherwise bigoted/hateful content or behavior.
No portraying topics such as inc*st, p*dophilia, or recent tragedies.
No ship bashing. No discourse. Use tumblr鈥檚 filter, blocking, and unfollow features, or browse this blog at your own risk.
Use proper warnings for sensitive content, NSFW, and common triggers.
Avoid popular ships from the ban list and check the FAQ before sending in questions about which ships are allowed.
Please break up long posts using a read more.
You may submit any medium in place of art or fic.
Tag your work with #hwsrarepairweek2022 in the first five tags or @hwsrarepairweek2022鈥 so it can be reblogged here!
Prompts:
You may follow these prompts as strictly or as loosely as you wish, but please try to follow them at least a little!
June 20: Writer & Artist
June 21: Hurt/Comfort
June 22: Flowers
June 23: Historical (or Free Day!)
June 24: Supernatural
June 25: Pirates & Mermaids
June 26: Fantasy
Happy shipping! Please reblog this post to help spread the word! @hetaliahappenings @heta-on-the-books @nsfhetalia
Thank you @transparentalia for the transparents!
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house-ad 2 months ago
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