#i love arthur kirkland when he is portrayed this way. i love him | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

erina-writes-headcanons · 1 month

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i’m back! this time could i have some crushing + gen relationship hcs w/ australia?💞

Jett Kirkland (AUSTRALIA), Nathaniel Zacker (NEW ZEALAND), and Arthur Kirkland (ENGLAND), and Ciarán Kirkland (IRELAND) GENERAL CRUSHING HEADCANONS

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HI, @reeces-pieses!! Of course, you can have another crushing Headcannon. And you are the first time who actually requested for Australia and I will try my best to portray him inside of this Headcannon! I hope you do not mind that I add England and also New Zealand.

Gender: Neutral Warning: None

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JETT KIRKLAND - Australia

Actually, it's pretty obvious when he has a crush but sadly since he is friendly and an extrovert, you are going to think he would be just being friendly so this can be a bit tricky.

He will be touchy around you but not to the point he will make you uncomfortable. Mostly he would shake your hand, head, or shoulder. He still respects your boundaries.

If you are sad, he would try to make you laugh by making funny jokes but if you are still sad and need something to be hugged, he would let you cuddle his koala.

Seems confident but secretly shy. If you actually touch him, he would internally scream in happiness, he could not believe that you actually just touched him.

Actually have crazy effort for you if he had a crush on you, he would keep asking you to hang out with him but since it's in the stage of crushing, he would let you bring your own friends and his friends.

Sometimes, he would lend you his hat or an umbrella if you got sunburnt since his beaches can be hot. He doesn't care if he gets a sunburn he thinks you need it more than him.

It would be hard to catch him getting shy because once you look at him, he would act as if he had not just gotten reddened when you held one of his hands and smiled at you.

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The golden sands stretched out before them, kissed by the warm rays of the summer sun. A gentle breeze carried the salty tang of the ocean as the person strolled along the beach, their footsteps leaving imprints in the soft sand. Seagulls wheeled and cried overhead, adding their voices to the symphony of the seaside.

A person with a pair of shorts and a loose-fitting t-shirt, the vibrant colours contrasting against the blue sky. With each step, they/she/he felt the stress of everyday life melt away, replaced by a sense of peace and contentment. After days of working hard, (Y/N) finally deserve a resting time. "(Y/N)! Oi mate!" A person suddenly called your name.

(Y/N) turned at the sound of their/his/her name, curious about the source of the cheerful greeting. As they scanned the beach, their eyes landed on Jett Kirkland, the personification of Australia, waving enthusiastically with a surfboard in hand. A grin spread across (Y/N)'s face as they recognized the familiar figure, known for his love of adventure and the ocean. "Oh hey, Australia," You made your way over him.

Jett's playful strokes on (Y/N)'s head gave her/him/them a pleasant sensation, and his cheerful demeanour placed them at rest. As he expressed his excitement at seeing you in his own country, (Y/N) couldn't help but grin in response, impressed by his genuine enthusiasm. But you had had no idea that, beyond Jett's friendly façade, he was hiding his feelings for a long time. "Hey (Y/N), do you wanna surf with me. The waves in here are great!" "I... I can't surf," (Y/N) admitted, feeling a twinge of embarrassment.

Jett's smile grew wider at (Y/N)'s response. "Don't worry at all! I'll teach you," he guaranteed, his voice full of confidence. "We'll start softly, and I'll be right behind you the entire time. How does that sound?" With a reluctant nod, (Y/N) agreed, feeling both excited and nervous. The possibility of learning to surf with Jett at your side filled you with excitement.

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NATHANIEL ZACKER - New Zealand

Even more obvious than Australia because he would be more clumsy than him. You would often catch him in the act when he was getting shy around you.

Poor guy, he is trying to speak normally around you but he would always be stammering and forgot what he should say next so he would just kind of stand there with a red face and say sorry.

I think he can bake but not as great as Austria or Germany. He would at least leave a pavlova on your tables. It is kind of messy but at least it was delicious. Or he would leave some ANZAC biscuits when it is Valentine's.

Always listen to you when you are talking around him, he would sometimes be in a daze because he thinks you look attractive but once you ask him, he would quickly snap out of it.

Gives you a meaningful small gift when he has crushes on you and it can be either handmade or he uses his own money instead of the government's money.

Most of the gifts he will give is probably a handmade scarf because I headcanon that he can knit since he is the country with lots of sheep. Either it will be a scarf, sweater, bobble head or a plushie.

Actually, would let you cuddle his lambs when you are sad but secretly he wishes it was him instead that is getting cuddled with you are sad.

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As the rain poured mercilessly, each droplet seemed to reflect the pain in (Y/N)'s heart. Standing in the rain, their damp clothes clinging to their/her/his body, (Y/N) felt the weight of their fight with their/her/his buddy push against them like thick clouds above. The lack of an umbrella reflected their unpreparedness for the storm that had formed between them, putting them in this pathetic position of vulnerability.

(Y/N) let out a shocked yelp as her shoes glided on the slick ground, landing against the wet pavement. Pain rushed through your right knee as you slumped, the pain of the impact blurring your senses for a brief second. Nathaniel Zacker, the personification of New Zealand, had just returned from a nearby conference when he heard your cries of pain and hurried to her rescue. With worry on his face, he knelt alongside her/him/them. "(Y/N), A-are you okay?"

(Y/N) gazed up in surprise as Nathaniel came before them, his presence both unexpected and reassuring. With a trembling nod, (Y/N) accepted Nathaniel's offer of help. Nathaniel softly placed his arm around (Y/N), carefully guiding them to their feet, and (Y/N) couldn't help but feel reassured by his touch. "Th-thank you," (Y/N) stuttered, their/her/his voice quiet and grateful as they fought to stand, their/his/her wounded knees protesting with each step.

Nathaniel's concern only deepened as he noticed (Y/N)'s struggle. With a tender smile, he offered his scarf to keep them warm, his gesture of kindness warming (Y/N)'s heart despite the chill of the rain-soaked air. "Come on, let's get you somewhere dry and warm," Nathaniel said gently, his arm still supporting (Y/N) as he led them towards his home.

Nathaniel's pulse raced and his cheeks flushed crimson as he silently thanked his fortunate stars for the unexpected meeting with his crush. Nathaniel took consolation in being their light of peace amongst the storm, despite the tornado of emotions rising inside him.

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ARTHUR KIRKLAND - England

Another guy who is obvious but not as obvious as New Zealand. In Cannon, he is a Tsundere and this is one of the reasons why it is obvious.

The reason it is not that obvious is because he could act like a poise gentleman. Doesn't react when you touch him or tease him or just simply look away as he hides his red face.

Acts rude towards you but in reality, he doesn't want anything bad to happen to you. For example, if you wanted to do something reckless, he would say whatever but as soon as you were gone. He would scream 'DON'T DO IT!"

Tries to bake a scones for you but soon there would be mountains of them that were thrown away because all of them are not edible and already looks like charcoal.

Another guy with crazy effort because if anything bad happens to you, he would try his best to protect you. For example, if you were bullied, he would stand up for you and doesn't care if he also gets injured.

He may be stubborn but he will try to be open-minded for you and tell you his opinion if you need to ramble or need someone to lean on when you are sad.

Also if he is drunk, he actually gonna cry about how mean you are for rejecting him and admitting that he has a crush on you but you keep ignoring him whereas you stood there in confusion.

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As (Y/N) sat next to Britain in the meeting room on Monday morning, the weight of the global warming debate lingered in the air. Despite their best efforts, (Y/N) struggled to concentrate on America's presentation about some mythical hero concept to tackle climate change—a notion that appeared to be more absurd than possible.

As (Y/N) listened to America's presentation, a pounding pain seized their temples. Despite the regular room temperature, a sudden cold fell over the meeting, forcing (Y/N) to quiver uncontrollably. Yesterday the girl remembered Britain told her/him/them not to eat ice cream when it's cold but they/she/he did not listen, (Y/N) just rolled their/his/her eyes and continued snacking on the ice cream bowl while watching Sherlock Holmes.

As Britain witnessed (Y/N)'s declining condition, he let out a depressing sigh, recalling his earlier warning against eating ice cream on a cold day. He rose from his seat and gently excused himself from the meeting room, hoping to ease (Y/N)'s discomfort. In the kitchen, he quickly brewed a hot cup of English breakfast tea, its sweet scent filling the room with warmth and comfort. Returning to (Y/N)'s side, Britain presented the calming beverage with a sweet smile, hoping it could help his crushes cold.

(Y/N)'s astonishment was evident as they/she/he kindly thanked Britain for the steaming tea, their/his/her thankfulness reflected in their emotions. (Y/N) received the cup with a friendly grin and sipped the hot drink. Britain, hesitant to meet (Y/N)'s eyes directly, felt a flush creep up his cheeks as he uncomfortably shook off the gesture. "Well, it was nothing," he said, his voice laced with a mix of annoyance and hesitation. "Your cough was bothering me, so I figured you needed something warm, obviously," he said, his attempt to hide his worry showing his actual sentiments.

As Britain watched (Y/N) sip the tea he had prepared, a hidden joy rose inside him, knowing that his crush had found comfort in his act. Silently, he prayed for (Y/N)'s quick recovery, hoping that the tea's warmth would help ease her/his/their sickness. Seating himself alongside (Y/N), Britain couldn't help but mutter quietly, barely audible, "Get well soon, my love." He prayed against hope that (Y/N) hadn't noticed his whisper.

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CIARÁN KIRKLAND - Ireland

The one who actually manages to hide it from you and not obvious unlike Britain, New Zealand and then Australia. He could actually act normal despite having a crush on you.

His personality is much of a Kuudere instead of Tsundere so he would not get red when he is speaking with you not stammering when starting a conversation.

But since he has a crush on you, you would actually notice chocolates shaped like clover on your table when you just arrive at the school or the world meeting.

More open-minded than Arthur so he would be more understanding and secretly more empathetic when he is around you than when he is around other countries.

It's cannon he hates getting bossed around, especially by his brothers BUT he doesn't mind if you actually ask him to do things for you if you need him but just don't take it for granted it.

From far away, you could actually hear a Celtic harp from far away and you might be wondering who plays it and what music it is. Well, it's actually for him and it's a secret way of him confessing to you through his music.

Secretly asks his fairies to get information about you, kind of creepy but the purpose is actually he just wants to understand anything you are interested in so when he speaks about it with you, he would not act like an idiot and pretend to know it all.

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On a beautiful Saturday morning, (Y/N) entered the crowded grocery shop with a list of tonight's groceries in hand. As they looked through their long list, their look changed to one of anger, as they saw how much money they'd have to spend and the effort of carrying the heavy bags. With a resigned sigh, (Y/N) readied themselves for the work ahead, knowing that the feast at home would make it all worthwhile.

Navigating through the packed aisles in search of sauces, (Y/N) felt a jolt, forcing the items in their arms to fall to the ground. "Oh! I'm so sorry! "I didn't mean to knock into you!" (Y/N) apologised, hastily leaning down to get the dropped objects. As their fingers accidentally brushed against one another's, (Y/N) glanced up to find the personification of Ireland in front of them. "Oh, hello, (Y/N)," he said kindly. "Here, let me help you," he said, joining (Y/N) in gathering the scattered goods.

As Ciara gently placed each grocery item into (Y/N)'s basket, he couldn't help but notice how heavy the load was. "You have quite a few groceries there. "Do you need a trolley for all that?" he asked concerned. (Y/N) shook her head, but Ciara sighed, indicating his concern. "Don't be stubborn," he softly reminded. "You clearly need some assistance. "Let me take that basket for you," he insisted, attempting to relieve (Y/N) of the weight.

As Ciara continued to assist (Y/N) with picking up the groceries, her surprise mingled with a blush at his kindness. "You don't need to. I don't want to burden you," (Y/N) insisted, averting their/her/his gaze shyly. Ignoring her protests, Ciara shook his head and continued to help, his determination unwavering. "Your house is nearby, right?" he asks. "I can bring these for you," Ciara offered. "You don't need to. It's too heavy, I can manage," (Y/N) tried to reject his offer again. "It's okay. Besides, you need some help so I will help you," he said bluntly, his sincerity shining through his words.

As they approached the cashier, (Y/N) sighed, accepting Ciara's assistance once more with a sweet grin. "Okay, thank you very much, Ireland. "I'm sorry I made you bring all of these groceries," you said. Ciara brushed aside your apology with a soft smile that was gone in one second. "There was no problem. He reassured you, "The least I can do is help you." Unbeknownst to (Y/N), Ciara's aid was motivated by more than simply kindness.

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hyliascommonwealth · 1 year

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I posted 294 times in 2022

234 posts created (80%)

60 posts reblogged (20%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@hyliascommonwealth

@cupcakes-and-british-tea

@askfairyromano

@cardverse-royality-and-rouges

@kumacheerio

I tagged 286 of my posts in 2022

Only 3% of my posts had no tags

#oc - 143 posts

#crossover oc - 139 posts

#zelda oc - 137 posts

#hws oc - 137 posts

#ooc - 95 posts

#uli - 83 posts

#vallo - 39 posts

#viri - 38 posts

#rika - 19 posts

#nabora - 16 posts

Longest Tag: 134 characters

#bro today has felt like it lasted three weeks and that journey culminated in recording these asks right next to eachother and garnered

My Top Posts in 2022:

Ok so.. I’ve been at work today and listening to my music an 80s song called me to draw Uli, with the disco colors from earlier, but @cardverse-royality-and-rouges suggested him on a motorcycle, then i picked specifically a 1984 Kawasaki Ninja, which i relied on this a lot haha.

But yea 80’s Uli on an international trip riding a motorcycle accidentally becoming a muse for artists or whatever, it’s a silly idea but it’s mine now ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Anyway it’s here now so have fun with that idea

14 notes - Posted August 29, 2022

((Okay I am so unbelievably curious to see what you have to say about Oliver. 👀💕))

Sexuality Headcanon: I see him as being homosexual, in the way that a homosexual neighborhood mom adopts every queer child within a 14 block radius. He’s got the pins, the flags, and so so proud! Monogamous, he’s very VERY devoted to the one he loves, and it would take no less than the world ending to jeopardize that loyalty.

Gender Headcanon: He/him fluid

A ship I have with said character: can’t help but ship him with Arthur, your muses just have such great chemistry! Plus i see those simping hours

A BROTP I have with said character: I’ve enjoyed a lot for interactions I’ve seen with Oliver! I think it’s a tie for Alfred and Francis? They just seem to mesh well in a playful way while still feeling well flushed out and comfortable

A NOTP I have with said character: hmm, i can’t say i have one as of yet? Honestly he’s got such a vibe i think it would be hard to find a real NOTP for me

A random headcanon: I’m not sure if it has any basis in reality, but i feel like he loves to teach others how to bake, and might do weekly baking lessons at any given senior center / community He just seems so patient and bubbly, I love to imagine him just gladly teaching those who are disadvantaged how to bake?? It just vibes so hard in my brainspace.

General Opinion over said character: I have only had Oliver for 15 minutes and if anything happened to him i would kill everyone in this room and then myself. He’s so smol! But he’s also got a great wit and sass! Like, he’s such a well balanced muse, i love how you portray him!! It is always a pleasure to see how he interacts with those around him. There’s just a really powerful charm, and warmth to him, like even when he seems a bit exasperated, there’s no sense that he’s going to snap, or break over it, but like he’s genuinely considering what brought any given encounter to this point.

14 notes - Posted November 28, 2022

Oliver disco fever

He was such fun! I feel like he had a good time in the 80s.

The Disco Fever Paint brush has a solid Variety of colors, but I used the Palette for Kacheek

15 notes - Posted August 11, 2022

((Cause they’re buddies and based off the garden RP. Uli and Oliver with the woodland paint brush? 🥺💕))

//aaaaaaa! I hope you like it!!!

I used the Palette of the Woodland Uni for this set! It had the most diverse and appealing look! I'd like to think that they would hang out and pick herbs and forage for fun.

16 notes - Posted August 14, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Okay okay okay here me out. Captain Oliver Kirkland with the pirate brush.

//this implies that you wanna paint an already pirate themed pirate with the pirate paint brush?? does it duplicate his clothes? or just apply the PB color palette?

Pirate Oliver Pallete

22 notes - Posted August 15, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

// Genuinely feel like mine is embarrassing lol

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #Ooc

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ladylofspades · 3 years

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Headcanon for Piri and Iggy

Now this is my first time to ever make a headcanon for a series I love, so please take it easy on me!

For those interested, please read on :D

Human Name: Mariano Lorenzo Villalobos Balagtas Nickname: Enzo Name Meanings:

Mariano - male equivalent to Maria; 'bitter'; name also means 'Star of the Sea'; named after Mariano Gomez, one of the three priests executed for mutiny (GOMBURZA)

Lorenzo - means laurel in Italian; a symbol of victory, fame, honour or accomplishment; named after Saint Lorenzo Ruiz, the first Filipino saint and martyr

Villalobos - means 'town of wolves' in Spanish; named after Ruy Lopez de Villalobos, the Spanish explorer who gave Enzo his first name Las Islas Filipinas

Balagtas - means 'to trail blaze' in Tagalog- named after Francisco Balagtas, a prominent Filipino poet during the Spanish occupation; author of Florante at Laura

Personality:

Pre-Colonial - independent, organized, skilled fighter, resourceful, creative, family-oriented, hardworking, hospitable, proud of his heritage, a born leader, a great singer and a believer in the supernatural

Spanish Colonial - he still maintains the same personality as he did in the pre-colonial period, with developing traits of stubbornness, slight laziness (Filipino time), and religiousness. After being kidnapped by Britain for two years (who was a pirate at that time), he became knowledgeable in English. He develops a love-hate relationship with Spain.

American Colonial - bringing all his traits from his pre-colonial and Spanish colonial times, now with a more carefree air. Thanks to Britain years prior, Piri was fluent in English, surprising America. Piri becomes more fluent in the language to the point he made his own English language known as Philippine English -- a combination of both British and American English with a Filipino twist and -- since he was a former colony of Spain -- some Spanish terms.

Japanese Colonial - all above traits, but he became more solemn, more irritable and more stubborn after being told off by Japan right when Piri was about to graduate/gain independence.

Modern Day - he still maintains all his above traits but masked behind a more carefree, sociable, teasing, trendsetting, cheerful personality that everyone has known him for.

Headcanon for Enzo towards Arthur

At first, Enzo found Arthur weird when he spotted the latter sketching among the trees nearby. To Enzo, it's rare to find a blonde person in his home country.

But the more Arthur visited the area, the more fonder and more curious Enzo became towards him.

It was through Arthur that Enzo got a chance to see what magic is like, and is always enamored by it since then.

Whenever Arthur visits, Enzo always readies food and drinks for them. But whenever he doesn't show up and Antonio is around, Enzo would give them to his foster brother. Though he loved Antonio, the boy was still sad that his newfound friend didn't come to visit.

Enzo loved watching magic either for Arthur to him stories, or to be lulled to sleep.

Enzo felt betrayed when he found out that Arthur was a pirate. But after being assured that he was anything but in danger, Enzo relaxed, and even decided to stay with him for two years.

Enzo had a hard time speaking in a British accent; but apparently got to speak the language and learned it quickly. Of all the times he spent with Arthur, Enzo loved it when the Brit would test his vocabulary and then treat him to something sweet.

During his time with Arthur, Enzo gets to express himself more about his feelings and thoughts towards Antonio -- both good and bad.

Because of the admiration he had towards the Brit, Enzo was saddened when Arthur returned the boy to the archipelago.

When he was placed under Alfred's care, Enzo would write letters to Arthur on how he gets annoyed with the American, and openly complains about him.

To Enzo, he feared that by learning the American English, it would replace what he learned so far from Arthur. To prevent that from happening, he decided to make his own English form known as the Philippine English -- a mix of American and British English with Spanish terms. It was heavily influenced by American English, but some British terms and grammar were retained in it.

Of all the Allies, Enzo is very close towards Alfred and Arthur -- with Alfred who had watched over him until the night of independence; and with Arthur, who he had a history that dated back to when Enzo was a boy.

Headcanon for Arthur Kirkland towards Enzo

He is very much like how he was portrayed in the series, but has a soft spot for children and cute creatures.

To Arthur, Enzo was a boy whose future was taken away by Antonio. And believes that, even though Antonio meant well to keep the boy safe, Enzo would have to leave his foster brother and live on his own.

Even though he had the means to take him in, Arthur decided to not do so. But it didn't change the fact that he genuinely cared for the boy. He would watch over the boy, even if it means from afar.

Since he and Antonio are rivals, Arthur was the one who encouraged Enzo to rebel against the Spaniard. This was done not only because of the rivalry, but because he truly believed that Enzo is more than capable to fend for himself.

Though implied, even Arthur was saddened that he had to return Enzo after being called back to England.

When he found that Antonio was going to let Enzo go, Arthur immediately pushed Alfred to take care of him.

Arthur disproves of the skit plan, after finding that out from Alfred in one of the latter's visits to England.

Even after Antonio left the teen, Arthur made absolutely sure that Enzo is protected at all costs, even if it meant having Alfred taking care of him.

Whenever Alfred had problems in taking care of Enzo, Arthur would advise him on how he could take care of the teen. Having known the boy for a long time, Arthur knew how the boy acted, felt and thought. He was genuinely dismayed when Alfred decided to do things his way, and wasn't surprised when things went from bad to worse for the American; but he warned Alfred that the American doesn't do anything funny towards Enzo OR ELSE.

When the teen was finally able to live on his own, Arthur treated Enzo out to dinner celebrating his first night of independence. On that same night, Arthur says, "Let's make it official," letting out a hand for Enzo to take. They shook hands as a sign that Arthur now sees Enzo as an equal, and no longer someone else's foster child or ward; but as a person of his own.

== My Headcanon between Modern Day Enzo and Arthur ==

Since Enzo is old enough to drink, he gets to go to drinking parties with Arthur. And if there are any karaoke machines in the venue, the two would either sing together or have a singing showdown, hoarding the microphones until either both of them passed out, or sing until closing time.

Whenever Arthur gets tired to sing, Enzo continues to sing songs until he plops onto his seat.

When both are drunk, it was Alfred who drags them both to a friend's residence depending on the country they're in. If it's in Enzo's home country or region, Indo would be the one to carry them both home.

During Halloween, it became routine for Enzo to help Arthur come up with ideas in the scaring contest with Alfred.

Whenever he's bored, or when they were not occupied, Enzo would call up Arthur and invite him to a ghost hunt or a paranormal investigation.

Once they went to every haunted place in both countries, they would save up money for travel to other haunted places in the world.

Whenever they have a sleepover in England, Enzo was saddened that his Diwata couldn't come along since England was far away -- with hopes that he could introduce his fairy to Arthur's. To make him feel better, Arthur would invite Ms. Fairy, Unicorn, Brownie, Flying Mint Bunny and Captain Hook. Seeing Enzo interact with his companions was heartwarming for Arthur.

When Arthur became terribly ill to the point of being hospitalised, Enzo would always be by his side. A trained nurse himself, Enzo saw through Arthur's stay until the Brit's full recovery.

When Enzo falls ill, he would usually not tell Arthur so as not to trouble him. But was surprised to learn that Arthur found out about his sickness anyway, and cared for him until he got better.

Arthur and Enzo would cook together whenever they hang out in either residence.

Enzo would usually ask Arthur to take a selfie with him, the latter not minding at all. And whenever Alfred photobombs the selfie, Arthur would chase after him, while Enzo keeps snapping photos of himself with the two running in the background.

Enzo was the fourth person to follow Arthur in Twitter (Alfred, Francis and Matthew being the first, second and third respectively) and third to follow the Brit in Instagram; whereas Arthur was the seventh to follow Enzo in Twitter (the first six being the SEA family) and in Instagram.

Arthur is well-aware that Enzo's family was protective of the latter, and keeps a safe distance.

Ever since Arthur ran away from his group in Europe, he decided to stay with the SEA family. Enzo was more than delighted to volunteer to let Arthur stay in his house.

In contrast to Alfred, Pien grew friendly towards Arthur because of how delicately the Brit treats him. As a response, Pien would climb either on top of Arthur's head or rest on the shoulder, much to Enzo's delight.

Horror and fantasy are must-watch movie themes for Arthur and Piri during movie nights.

Whenever he finds the time, Arthur would help Enzo recap some British terms. BUT without telling Alfred unless the American asked for it.

Arthur still sketches birds from time to time, and would sometimes sketch Enzo with birds on his arms, shoulders and on top of his head, much to Arthur's amusement.

This is all I have so far for their headcanon! But for a more detailed (or nitty-gritty) story behind the headcanon, check this link out!

#hws england #hws philippines #hws hetalia #hws headcanons #hetalia headcanons #my first headcanon ever #i just love those two!#being very close friends #who would scare alfred during halloween

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fifielady · 4 years

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Something; Love

@hetaliamondaychallenge‘s “If you meant it, kiss me” prompt challenge

Rating: T

Ship: USUK

Note/s: My internet connection suddenly cut off just as I finished this up last night ;-; but at least it’s working now. I know it’s a bit late and this is a bit rushed but I hope you guys enjoy this.

Acting is a distinguished art that involved elements crucial to the point that if done right, everyone involved will be completely enthralled and would forget for even a moment they were a mere spectator detached from the wonderfully different world onstage. Arthur Kirkland, a junior, loved it. The stage, the power, the act. He relished being both on the stage conquering the attention and the hearts of the spectators and out of their view making very sure that the play would go exactly as he instructed them all like the 'theatre tyrant' as he is. (Christened to him ever since he stepped foot inside their highschool's exclusive theatre troupe-- err, drama club.)

However! Oh God, in all things he thrived in his world, how Arthur hated improv. Well... fine, he didn't outright hate it. Improv is an art and he would not drag that down. But, oftentimes, it would drag the whole detailed and scripted act. Worse, it could undermine the whole premise of the plotline! And Arthur would outright shove the person who even dares to deviate from the scene into hell and torture them with his endless taunts to force them to utter the name of that Scottish play every single time they enter his theatre. In actuality, it was the school's theatre, then again, Arthur knows that he'll be stage director his senior year next year so he may as well call it his now anyway.

Hmm, wait... Where was he going with that train of thought exactly--

"Why?!" Alfred shouted as he deflected Arthur's lunge with his sword, every word that came out was further intensified by the clash and clang of their improvised broom-swords."Why do all this when you had it all?!"

-- Ah, yes, this. Arthur spun left when his 'enemy' thrust his broom inches from Arthur's stomach. This was one of their club's monthly destress-from-the-current-play-we-are-doing-this-spring activities. Their current stage director, Elizabeta, was a god-sent in Arthur's eyes to let everyone in the club, techies included, engage in impromptu dramas and stories; competition was always there, of course, and the club was divided into two groups.

"Ha! I had it all?" Agh, Damn it all! He pivots and strikes Alfred's upper thigh just to spite the man who caused this mess. "It-it seems you are mistaken, I have nothing. Nothing!"

Usually, Arthur Kirkland and Alfred F, Jones, would be separated into their respective groups named after the feuding families of Shakespeare's star-crossed lovers (They had personalized red and blue shirts and all). Usually. Also usually, Elizabeta happened liked to mix things up and then proceeded to regroup everyone.

That was how Arthur ended up 'dueling to the death’ against their club's upstart but excellent freshman actor during their impromptu plays. Alfred Jones was the kind of person who devoted himself to the character he portrayed. The kind of person that was so very kind, sometimes naive, and wouldn't hurt a soul to gain notoriety on the stage (which was done quite often in these kinds of environments). Arthur liked that. It didn't hurt him to like like Alfred as well as he liked Alfred's compelling air onstage.

But his feelings for the other won't alleviate the fact that he was angry because someone had the nerve to switch Arthur's 'best-friend-betrays-and-kills-the-crown-prince-because-of-politics' impromptu plot to something that of a dramatic romance just because he forgot his line and muttered something completely different in context in the middle of the fight! And Arthur was left to quickly bite a response and then his character's motives suddenly changed. ("I love my father's kingdom but you have my heart! You know this." "Lies! If you loved me as much, you would've stopped your father from attacking my family!) Someone just had the nerve to throw him off his balance and now--

The traitor used all his strength as he flung his enemy's sword, throwing it far away from the other's hands. It thunked near their audience, almost hitting a student, but both of the actors never took their eyes away from each other. Arthur growled and pushed Alfred down the dusty floor on his ass. The fallen crown prince lay there with his broom-sword meters away and the tip of his former friend's sword centimetres on the left of his chest, where his heart should be. Both of them were panting. sweating out the tension that suddenly overcame the room.

Arthur thinks it was both a wonderful and terrible scene. Wonderful in a sense he's bested the other and continued to his planned narrative for their act. And terrible in a way that if this were the reality they both lived in, the best of friends torn by society's expectation, it would hurt not only the prince but also his heart.

With steely eyes, Arthur uttered the last line of their act, "I have nothing left. Nothing to lose." He thrust his broom and Alfred shouted as if someone had really pained his heart physically and emotionally.

Arthur’s heart clenched.

But in true Alfred F. Jones fashion, he smiled a smile Arthur saw when it was only them alone under the mostly atmosphere of the library with blue eyes untainted by their acting, never lying, and completely threw Arthur's precise and thought-out chess plan in the trash. He gripped Arthur's broom, muscles quivering for effect, and whispered, "You had me... and my... love...!" Alfred went lax.

Applause.

Once again, Alfred won over the narrative and his heart.

------------------------------

Arthur listened to the last goodbyes and see-you-laters of the exiting students. His group won this month's supply of cheesecake reserved in the cafeteria thanks to their performance. It was mostly him and Alfred but he recognizes the efforts of his groupmates into contributing to their act. Personally, Arthur thinks his performance was sub-par today; he may be overly-critical of himself but he knew that when Alfred forgot his line and did improv ruined his tempo.

Alfred. His acting today almost wasn't acting at all. Those eyes and that watery smile that had held his emotions for all the world to see. Was it... love?

No. Arthur shook his head. It couldn't be. Alfred was an actor just like Arthur was going to be a stage director. Excellent and good at what they're supposed to do in their grand world onstage. Flawless.

It was upsetting, somehow. Arthur wouldn't lie that he wished it was real. Not the stab and kill my love part but the one that what Arthur was spared from the pain of unrequited love. It would be lovely, "--If he actually meant it, that he loved me."

"And if I did?"

Arthur spun around faster than his cues onstage. There was Alfred, leaning on the doorway with a no-nonsense look on his face. The intense red of the setting Sun illuminating and heightening every line he’d said and say. "What...?"

"And if I did? If love you, what would you do?" Tight, Arthur’s lungs felt like someone was choking him in the inside.

"Alfred, the activity is over, there's no need for you to continue the act." He deflected, frowning. A mix of dread something else he couldn’t describe fluttered in his chest. Suddenly, he knew this feeling; it was hard to breathe.

"What if I stopped 'acting' when I improvised my line and confessed with my real feelings. What if I told you that I meant what I said. That I love you." Alfred strode to him, purposeful and his face looking a little flushed. "What would you do, Arthur?"

Alfred doesn't lie, he acts. But not right now. Alfred was telling him, Arthur Kirkland, that he loves him. Bleeding hell, yes. He knew the other man wasn’t planning on letting him go any sooner if Arthur didn’t give him a reply in this very moment

"Well, if it were true that you love me," he licked his lips, "If you meant it, kiss me. And maybe, I'll say I love you too."

Alfred pouted but then the corner of his lips curved to a smile. "'Maybe'? Aren't you being too mean on me today? You just stabbed your best friend with a broom."

Arthur smiled back and chuckled, happiness made fluttered in his heart and warmed his cheeks. "How about a kiss for the prince for his troubles?"

"Mn, yeah, that's acceptable. A kiss for your prince from my boyfriend, right?" He leaned down a bit and was wiggling his eyebrows so much, Arthur was tempted to smack him instead. Tempted indeed.

However, a kiss on Alfred's lips was a million times more tempting. Arthur leaned a bit up into those lips and did just that.

They had something. Love.

end

#hetaliamondaychallenge #hetalia #usuk #APH England #aph america #ukus #hetalia fanfiction #hetalia fandom #usuk fanfiction #fi writes #hws america #hws england #fanfiction

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usuknetwork · 6 years

Text

USUK Christmas Countdown 2017: December 16

Title: Freeze Frame Day 4: Ice Rink Summary: Arthur Kirkland is up against one of the most elite skaters ever to come out of the United States, and he’s not happy about it. It’s not a good feeling to know that a contest can be predestined for failure. But it’s worth a try. Rating: G Warning: None

(Written by: @narcoleptic-art and Art by: @little-ocean-art)

Silence.

Arthur doesn’t hear the voices of the announcers in the stadium. He knows he should be listening, but he knows it doesn’t help him. He’s only concentrated on the blasting volume of the music on his phone, with cheap earbuds shoved into his ears. There is a painful pressure that he feels from the fat ear tips, but it traps the deep bass beats effectively. His heart beats along with the song, paced and slow.

This does not last long. Arthur takes one glance at the doors leading to the locker room and completely falls out of sync with the song. The rhythm is off and he finds no success in trying to match his raging heartbeat anymore. He sighs, sliding his finger to the left to rewind the song all over again.

He’s seated upon the chipped, concrete, yellow parking bumper in the lot, eyes wandering in many directions to avoid the doorway but never seeming to settle anywhere for too long before the dread returns to him. He’s counted the number of cars he can see; counted the amount of minutes he knew he had before it was his turn: little more than fifteen.

Arthur sighs, eyes closing.

But they snap open again when he feels a touch on his shoulder, and a sparkling figure coming to sit next to him. Arthur turns his head, and he instantly regrets this. It is the person who is the cause of his anxiety.

Alfred F. Jones.

The man smiles back at Arthur, and it is worth one million dollars behind it, plus a career in the making. Jones’ performance outfit is still on, with a sliver of shining sparkles underneath a worn out bomber jacket that really didn’t look like it matched at all. Something he half expected for some reason.

Jones makes a motion of removing the headphones, indicating for Arthur to do so. Arthur sighs, doing so for the sake of politeness.

“...you doin’ okay there?” he asks right off the bat.

Arthur snorts. He knows Alfred well enough through various encounters. He’s obnoxiously sympathetic, and overall didn’t know how intimidating he came off to be. A hopeless romantic perhaps, behind an exterior of extreme skill and technique.

“...it never really does get easier to deal with, does it?” Arthur says instead, gaze going to the floor and sighing. “I mean... how audiences go. They’re different but the same every time.”

“I dunno,” responds Alfred, though he’s honestly sounding as if he means that statement. “It’s kinda weird to think everyone’s the same in the audience. It’s stressful to keep expectation! But I think it’s a healthy kind of stress, y’know? We’ve both been in this kind of work for years. I think maybe eventually the anxiety lessens. Not entirely gone. But less.”

Arthur wishes it was less. He pinches the bridge of his nose. “Perhaps. But it’s not today.”

“Don’t worry, Artie. You’ll do good. You always do good.”

Arthur couldn’t tell if the statement was meant to make him riled, but Arthur exhaled sharply anyway. Alfred had it easier. Entirely easier. He was a natural skater, better than any that Arthur had ever seen. It was the kind of raw talent that was enough to win a medal just for doing a warm up, and only needed a coach as a means of guided power control. It was entirely unlike Arthur, with lessons galore and repeated executions of the same jumps in order to make sure his leg didn’t stick out at odd angles when it happened; a repeated mess of 4:00am training sessions, specialized diets, committed ten lap runs, and ballet.

And yet even after these instances, Arthur felt more lacking than Alfred. He was a man who had a whole Facebook page dedicated to him with at least 10 thousand likes, a transcript of an interview posted on the community newspaper, several first place titles from age 13 upward, and not to mention a Sports Illustrated front cover last year.

Stress. He feels his apprehension subside, and Arthur feels his heart finally find some solace as he stands. Alfred blinks, standing to follow, but Arthur gives him an expression of riddled exhaustion and five years’ worth of irritation and jealousy.

“Don’t call me Artie. We aren’t friends.”

Alfred furrows his brows after. “Sheesh. You didn’t need to be so sour.” Alfred stands after him. “I just wanted to tell ya good luck.”

“I don’t need luck, lad. I practiced.”

Silence.

The crowd makes not a single sound, and the only melody heard is the noise of the loud speakers and the sound of blades connecting with ice. It’s the only thing Arthur chooses to hear. The wind whirls as he jumps, and he closes his eyes to the million cameras and eyes on him. It’s a blinding white when he opens again. The song breathes, and he jumps. Triple Salchow. Arthur lands and he throws his head back after, face thrown upward with an expression of exhaustion. It’s a performance about angry love. A selfish one, riddled in between an idea of jealousy and longing. A performance that portrays itself as the ultimate facade; an obsession.

Arthur imagines Alfred in his gracious form: hair slicked back, with hands thrown forward. Arthur sees Alfred in that sparkling outfit of blue, shimmering. Smiling. Welcoming.

Arthur can’t tell if he wants to hold those hands or slap them away.

He shuts his eyes as he goes into a final spin, pulling his arms inward as he spins faster. Faster.

Arthur remembers the instance of when Alfred gave his flowers to him. The ones he had picked up from the ground and scooped up, refashioned into a hasty present to give him when his ankle broke.

Arthur then remembers himself the second the song concludes, and he feels his teeth gritted together. His arms are extended, facing the judges. The applause that follows is a sea of professional claps. There are no signs with his name on it held up within that audience; it wasn’t a luxury that he had. No cheers, as it normally was.

Arthur feels his heart finally collapse. The judges keep their gaze downward and Arthur can’t tell their thoughts behind it. He doesn’t want to look at the score.

Resigned, he heads for the exit, only to be blocked by a flash of blue darting right onto the ice. Arthur widens his eyes.

“Alfre--”

Arthur feels himself tugged into a haphazard embrace, with a warmth and an excited laugh heard from him. He can’t get any words out, and tears prick his eyes as he shoves Alfred away from him immediately. Alfred, thrown aback, gives him the space, confused.

“Don’t.”

The command was resolute. Alfred frowns. But Arthur doesn’t let him ask why.

“I don’t need your empty compliments, Alfred.” His fist are clenched and his heart opens. It hurts so much his eyes can’t hold it and they spill into tears. “Congratulations.”

Alfred’s eyes become troubled, eyebrows furrowed as he straightens up. “For…what?”

“For another win,” Arthur almost laughs, but he chokes. His hands go to one of his eyes, trying to furiously take away the feeling of the wetness, make-up be damned. “Another victory, if that makes more sense.”

“Arthur, I don’t know what you’re talking about. I don’t...”

The comment breaks him. Arthur’s face finally gives in, twisting into a mess of ultimate acceptance. And Alfred’s eyebrows raise. Of course he wouldn’t know.

“Maybe,” Arthur gets out, finally collecting himself after a few moments of reflection, “this competition might h-have been a way to blow off a weekend for you. But this...I can’t, Al. I don’t know what else I can do to be level. Four bloody years, and I still can’t--” his voice cracks again. “My coach didn’t even want to show up when your name was on the roster.”

Alfred stares. Listening, as it seemed. Something that he didn’t think was capable of him. But his expression softens. He jerks his chin in the direction just above him and looks back at Arthur.

Arthur looks.

1st - Number 04 - UK - Arthur KIRKLAND (224.59) 2nd - Number 05 - USA - Alfred JONES (219.11)

Arthur’s jaw drops. The tears weren’t restrained anymore as he began to cover his mouth.

The crowd cheers. And it’s the most beautiful thing Arthur hears in his life.

He turns around to speak back to Alfred but he is gone, having darted across the stage to where the judges were. And snagging the medal out of their hands.

Arthur covers his mouth, watching as Alfred grins, skating with ease and right over to the frozen form of Arthur flabbergasted. The gold metal glistens. And Alfred takes no time to just place it right around his neck.

“... you know, Arthur,” Alfred hums, seeming to then take the time to embrace him. Arthur swallows. “You wanna talk about level?”

Alfred hums, kissing him right on the forehead. Arthur blinks. The kiss mark is felt. And his face goes scarlet.

“You give me too much credit for it. I’m thinking, maybe, I’m the one who needs to get level.”

Alfred lowers his head just an inch. “Maybe this height is more comfortable.”

Before Arthur could respond, Alfred laughs as he skates away, leaving Arthur with a stuttering rebuttal that didn’t hold its strength.

#usuk #ukus #usukxmascountdown #day 4 #aph america #aph england

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magic-magpie · 7 years

Text

It’s Always Been You

Yoooo, I wrote another fic! I’ve been hampered down lately by college and crap, so I haven’t been able to write as much because I’m constantly hella tired. But I saw the sappy prompts list I just reblogged, and I got an idea that I actually managed to see through to the end! Whaddaya know... Anyway, it’s UsUk as always (UsUkUs, really... there’s rarely a seme/uke dynamic in my fics - I don’t tend to like it), and around 3,728 words, give or take a couple. Also, please keep in mind that I have never been to one of these kind of parties. And I know that plenty of popular people don’t get wasted at every party. To be honest, I’m just using Mean Girls as my referencing point, and other accounts of parties I’ve found on the internet. And Mean Girls was fine to use in terms of age, because can you believe that Regina George was sixteen?! THAT’S MY AGE. ...Pfft, I’m a loser. Like I didn’t already know that.

Alfred Foster Jones was popular.

All throughout his life he’d been one of the popular kids. Friendly, optimistic, good-looking, smart, sporty, rich, American – he was the literal formula for universal popularity. When he’d started college he’d managed to form a plethora of friends on just the first day. A week later, everybody knew of Alfred F. Jones. Even if you weren’t in a single one of his classes, you still knew who he was. Boys wanted to be him, girls wanted to be with him – from day one he’d been the very definition of popular.

That’s why Arthur Kirkland simply couldn’t fathom why he’d never dated a soul.

Arthur and Alfred had met when they were seven, on the first day of junior school. Arthur had been reserved and introverted, but Alfred had managed to worm his way through his shyness, and they’d quickly become friends. All throughout primary and secondary school they’d remained best friends, and now that they were in college they were still that close.

However, although they were best friends, they still had their popularity differences. It was almost laughable – Alfred the Popularity King was best friends with Arthur the Social Reject. Alfred was the one who people wanted at their parties, who people wanted to be friends with; Arthur just got the token invite because everyone knew that excluding him would lead to Alfred refusing to associate with you.

As a result of Alfred’s popularity, he’d been asked out multiple times. Sometimes he’d get asked out thrice in a single day. Plenty of the time it was by people who just couldn’t take ‘no’ for an answer.

But in spite of all these offerings, Alfred had never dated anyone. He’d never accepted a dating proposal, never kissed anybody (even in games of Spin the Bottle he point-blank refused), never done anything romantic or sexual in the slightest. It baffled Arthur, quite honestly. Even Arthur had had his first kiss (just in a game of Spin the Bottle he’d been token-invited to; it was slimy and awful – the feeling was only exacerbated by the fact that Alfred was right there watching him make out with someone. That wouldn’t be a problem if Arthur wasn’t head-over-heels in love with him.), yet Alfred had yet to be kissed. For the longest time he’d thought that popularity went hand-in-hand with an active sexual life, but Alfred was living proof of the contrary.

He’d asked Alfred about it, a few times. It wasn’t that he had a problem with Alfred being single (hell, his chest hurt every single time someone asked Alfred out, and there was always that sick feeling of what if he says yes), he was just curious as to why Alfred always rejected them. The answers he’d received had been rather wishy-washy; things like ‘I don’t know them well enough’, or ‘They’re not the type of person I want’. He’d never elaborate, because he always changed the subject to something much more mundane and trivial. And Arthur never pushed him.

“I’ll be seeing you there, Al!”

The pretty brunette sent Alfred a wave and a flirty smile before walking off to go find her friends. She’d left an invite to her Halloween party in his hands, and a token-invite in Arthur’s. He couldn’t help but scoff at it. Already, people know how to get Alfred at their functions.

“You gonna go?” Alfred asked, popping a piece of gum in his mouth and offering one to Arthur across the table, who took one and shrugged.

“I don’t go to these things without you. Besides, it’s you they want, not me.”

“I want you there,” Alfred insisted, blue eyes wide in that sincere way that made Arthur fall deeper in love. “Hell, if I’m going to a party I want a friend. Who else would I talk to about physics and shit?”

“Somehow,” Arthur said with a laugh, “I don’t think you go to parties to discuss physics.”

“So are you going?” That was the thing about Alfred. He’d never go unless Arthur said he was going. And Arthur knew that Alfred did truly like these parties and enjoyed revelling in his position as Popularity King, so it was that Arthur agreed to attend.

“Cool!” Alfred said, then he started bouncing up and down excitedly. “Oh oh oh, what should I dress up as? What about Superman? Or Captain America? No wait wait wait – we should totally go as Batman and Robin! Dude, this idea is priceless! You be Robin, and I’ll be Batman!”

“I am at least ninety-percent certain that you’re supposed to dress up sexily, if the movies are true in what they portray,” Arthur said. Although you look sexy any way you dress. Alfred drooped, until he seemed to think of another thing that brightened him up.

“But Batman is sexy! I mean, have you seen his abs? Defined, or what!”

“Batman is not sexy!”

Alfred scoffed. “Yeah, tell that to Selina Kyle.”

“Anyway,” Arthur made to steer the topic away from Batman’s abs, “we’ve got the rest of the month to think about it. Right now, we’ve got to focus on this Chemistry shit.”

On the gloomy night of October 31st, Arthur and Alfred approached the door of the girl’s house (her name was Courtney, they’d checked). They were still dressed as Batman and Robin, but it was more of a casual cosplay. As in, they had asked others who were attending, and just came in regular shirts and jeans, except Alfred’s shirt had the Batman logo, and Arthur’s had Robin’s. Alfred had been decidedly miffed by this turn of events, but what could they do?

Already Arthur could hear loud, thumping music from behind the door. He cringed – unbearably loud volumes were never fun for him. It sounded as if this was going to be the largest party they’d ever attended.

“Ready?” Alfred asked. Arthur grit his teeth and nodded. With a smile, Alfred pushed down on the handle and opened the door to what could only be described as mass chaos.

Loud music pulsed through the lobby, making the whole building vibrate in time with the song. The house was packed with bodies writhing and grinding against one another, drinks in hand, drinks spilling to the floor. The pungent smell of sweat permeated the air, and Arthur immediately wished he hadn’t said yes to this party. None of the others he’d attended had been this charged.

“Al, you made it!”

Courtney made her way over to them (dressed in a skin-tight catsuit), smiling that flirty smile that made Arthur’s skin crawl. He knew exactly what smile that was – he’d seen it countless times. It meant she was trying to charm Alfred into being hers.

Arthur hated it so because he was scared that, one day, it would work.

“Oh, hey!” Alfred greeted cheerfully, although Arthur could tell even he was having to strain his voice to be heard. “Nice party you’ve got here!”

“Want a drink?” She offered him, completely ignoring Arthur. “Or a dance?”

Now was the time for Arthur to slink away. Alfred had never done anything sexual before, but that was when there hadn’t been any alcohol. Now that drinks were added into the mix... he shuddered to think of what possibilities were open to the Popularity King.

Arthur didn’t want to be there to see them.

He left Alfred to party with Courtney and the rest of the popular crew, and weaved his way through hordes of writhing teenagers until he arrived at the drinks table with a relieved sigh. Partying was something he’d never be comfortable with, but drinking? He had three alcoholics for older brothers - becoming used to drink was something that had just happened down the line. And anyway, the alcohol didn’t seem to be anywhere near as strong as the stuff his brothers had given him – it was just spiked punch. He could handle that easily. So he poured himself out a glass and downed it, enjoying the warm, fuzzy feeling that spread all over his body.

Wonder what Alfred’s doing, he mused. Probably finally getting some popularity action, he thought glumly. Although Arthur hated it, he’d understand. The house was filled with pretty girls and handsome boys, and Alfred had the pick of the litter. Why wouldn’t he go and kiss the living daylights out of someone?

The image of Alfred grinding up against people that weren’t Arthur had him downing another glass of drink.

Honestly, Arthur thought crossly, get it together. You’re sixteen, he’s sixteen, everyone in this house is sixteen, seventeen, or eighteen. Sooner or later he’s going to find someone pretty to screw – he may very well be that one kid who loses their virginity at a party. Just because you like him doesn’t mean that you can get nauseated by the thought of him fucking someone who isn’t you. It’s going to happen one day. Get over it.

Arthur dreaded the moment when Alfred stopped refusing kisses in Spin the Bottle, when Alfred started dating people, when Alfred started taking full advantage of his prerogative as Popularity King.

With nothing else better to do, he filled up his glass again and decided to wander around. Of course, this proved incredibly difficult; all around him people were unable to keep their hands off one another, people were dancing like the house was a nightclub, people were forming mass crowds around doorways and such. It was at times like this where Arthur was grateful for his Social Reject status – not a single person called after him, allowing him to slip out of crowds undetected. He searched for a relatively-empty room to sit down in and take a breather from the chaotic energy of the party, but his quest came to no fruition. The lobby was packed, the living room was, the kitchen was - hell, even the stairs were. It was with great difficulty that Arthur managed to squeeze up the stairs, only to be met with more people.

And this scene was dirtier.

Guys and girls all making out with one another, loud moans coming from the bathroom and bedrooms, articles of clothing strewn about everywhere, the musky scent of sweat and sex heavy in the air. He sighed, stepping over shirts and stumbling over shoes until he reached a door. With the din of the party quickly becoming unbearable he slipped into the room without a moment’s hesitation.

“Hey – look – stop, dude – please -”

“Oh, come on, it’ll be fun.”

Arthur froze.

He knew that voice.

He whirled round to see Alfred beneath Courtney on the bed, her hand underneath his ruffled shirt and an almost predatory smirk on her lips. At just that moment the two of them noticed him in the room, for their heads simultaneously snapped to him.

“Oh, it’s you,” Courtney said dismissively, looking irritated. From the looks of it, she’d been drinking far too much of the punch. Arthur, rooted to the spot, dared not look at Alfred, terrified of what he’d find. Did Alfred have that red flush of someone intoxicated like Courtney did? Was Alfred’s hair all tousled and messed up in that way that indicated an intense make-out session? Would his big blue eyes be lidded with desire for someone who wasn’t him?

The thought of it made him want to vomit.

“Would you leave already?” Courtney hissed impatiently, not a trace of the girl who’d given them invitations a month ago. Pointedly not looking at Alfred, Arthur nodded wordlessly. Still stunned by what he’d just seen, Arthur turned round and made to open the door again, but stopped when Alfred called out to him.

“Artie!”

His tone wasn’t normal. It wasn’t cheery, happy, sunny. It was... panicked.

Arthur spun round to look at Alfred, and he did not see someone thoroughly enjoying being underneath a girl. He was red, but it wasn’t the warm flush of alcohol. Alfred’s golden hair was messed up, but in the way that indicated a struggle, not a make-out. His blue eyes were wide and seemed to be almost pleading Arthur to help him.

Incensed, Arthur strode up to Alfred and forcefully pulled him up and off the bed. “Sorry,” he spat at Courtney, who was scowling herself, “Alfred’s got somewhere to go.”

And with that he marched out of the bedroom, down the stairs, and out of the house. It had been surprisingly easy, as if the partygoers had sensed that Arthur was, at that point, a seething mass of rage, and had parted like the sea had for Moses. Except Moses hadn’t been possessed by barely-suppressed anger.

“HOW DARE SHE!” Arthur exploded once they were out. “SHE FUCKING ALMOST USED YOU FOR SEX!”

“You can chill, dude! We’re out now,” Alfred said. Arthur would have ‘chilled’, except the little laugh Alfred gave was shaky and his smile didn’t fully reach his eyes.

“I’m going to fucking kill her on Monday,” he spat, balling his hands into fists. “She’s in my English class, isn’t she? I’ll fucking murder her.”

“She was drunk, she didn’t know what she was doing! She’s actually nice, y’know.”

Arthur stared at Alfred, perplexed. “How and why are you defending her?! She doesn’t even like you properly, she’s just another one of those fucking jerks who want to shag the Popularity King!”

“I know, okay?” Alfred’s voice was rising too. “Look, it’s freakin’ hard being popular! It practically forces you into being cool with all this crap!”

“But you’re not cool with it!”

“If it wasn’t for you I would be!”

Silence.

The wind blew the light drizzle of rain in haphazard directions, and the sound of blaring music could still be heard faintly, but the two of them were oblivious to it all. Alfred’s eyes widened, stance defensive, a deer caught in the headlights.

“...And what does that mean?” Arthur ground out. He went on the offensive, but inside he was preparing himself for the worst – Alfred’s realised that you’re holding him back from being part of the popular crowd and he’s finally decided to do away with the Social Reject.

“It’s you, okay? It’s always been you!” His arms were out to the sides, palms exposed, looking incredibly vulnerable and open. “I’ve never dated anyone because I want to date you! I don’t want to freakin’ go around making out with whoever wants me because it won’t feel right because it’s not you!”

Alfred breathed heavily, eyes wide and shining. He was staring imploringly at Arthur who stared right back, stunned.

Alfred liked him.

It had to be a joke.

But it couldn’t be a joke, not when he was looking like that.

“W-what?” He managed to stammer. From the light of the streetlamp he could see a flush on Alfred’s face, and somehow he knew it wasn’t because it was chilly.

“I’ve – I’ve liked you since Year Seven. I always rejected everyone because, well, I was stupidly waiting around for you to – to ask me out,” Alfred gave a little scoff, “even if there’s no chances of that happening.”

Arthur was still struck dumb, so Alfred continued. “Why d’you think I didn’t answer any of your calls or texts after you made out with that girl in that Spin the Bottle game last year?”

“Y-you told me you’d lost your phone!” Arthur said, managing to find his voice again.

“I did... Kinda. I don’t know, I just-” he sighed, and finished in a quiet voice, “seeing you kiss her like that was bad enough, but the thought of talking to you properly, I – I really did try, but I just kept remembering how you kissed her, and I – I broke my phone. So I did lose it. Kinda.”

“That’s...”

“Dramatic?” Alfred smiled ruefully. “Yeah. I didn’t mean to break it, I just chucked it against the wall and it shattered... Remember how I was grounded for a month? Yep. It wasn’t ‘cause I snuck out to that party. Y’know, I actually didn’t sneak out. So that lecture you gave me back then? Totally wrong.”

“Well,” he quickly searched for something normal to say, “you still deserved a lecture.”

“Yeah, I guess. But hey, I got my cool new phone afterwards! I think Mom took pity on me... she hates unrequited love and all that crap.”

Alfred heaved a sigh, then lifted his head to look Arthur in the eye. With a jolt, he realised that Alfred’s eyes were sparkling with something that looked dangerously like tears.

“So, there. I tried to stop liking you, I really did. But at the same time, I... I didn’t want to stop. It’s like –“

“Both a blessing and a curse,” Arthur finished. “Trust me, I know.”

Alfred’s jaw dropped. “Wait, you like someone?! Is it that girl you made out with? You told me it wasn’t her, but still-“

“It’s you, idiot.”

God, the expression Alfred made was just adorable. His big blue eyes became as wide as saucers, practically sparkling, and his mouth formed a perfect ‘o’.

“Wait, you’re serious?!” His utter disbelief was evident, making Arthur chuckle slightly, even if he felt himself heating up.

“There is absolutely no need to lie in this situation, so of course. For quite the while, actually,” Arthur said, smiling slightly. Surprisingly, it had felt good to get it off his chest, even more so because his feelings were reciprocated. Honestly, he was still trying to get his head round it... Alfred reciprocated his feelings. Alfred liked him back.

“Okay okay, so,” Alfred said, “you like me, and I like you.”

“That would, er, be correct,” Arthur replied. A wide grin stretched across Alfred’s face, making Arthur’s heart skip a beat.

“Then, well, why aren’t we dating?!”

Arthur locked eyes with Alfred, and suddenly he felt his own lips stretch into a gloriously elated grin. He had the wonderful sensation of floating on Cloud Nine, all the negativity from the party destroyed by the pure positivity in the form of Alfred’s love.

“Would you like to start?”

Next thing he knew, Alfred had tackled him into a gleeful hug, arms tightly wrapped around him. As a result Arthur stumbled backwards and was just saved from crashing down by Alfred’s impressive strength, and he just suddenly started laughing because all of this was just too perfect. He still had the feeling that he’d wake up in bed and this would have all been a wonderfully vivid dream, but he hoped to God it wasn’t.

“Holy shit you’re my boyfriend, Artie! Boyfriend!” Alfred squealed excitedly. “That means we can go on dates and hold hands and wear each other’s clothes and spend Valentine’s as lovers and kiss and-“

“And share a blanket and watch movies and sit in front of the fireplace and roll around on the snow and I-“ Arthur’s smile turned softer, “I’ve dreamt about this for so long.”

Arthur held onto his boyfriend tighter, and they swayed on the spot under the sky full of stars. He rested his head on Alfred’s shoulder, revelling in the intimacy he’d desired for years.

“Do you want to come to mine for our first, well, date, if you will? I’m sure my mother won’t object to a sleepover, and we can watch movies,” Arthur suggested, then hastily added, “But if you want to return to the party, we can! I know you like them and all.”

Alfred laughed. “What, and risk you smashing Courtney’s head in with a chair? These guys at college might not know it, but you’re freakin’ dangerous when you’re angry!”

“That was one time, Alfred!” Arthur huffed. “And the fucker deserved being hit in the face for what he said about my brothers.” He’d received a three-day suspension for breaking the boy’s nose. Honestly, Arthur was lucky he was one of the most intelligent students in the year (the other being Alfred) – any less intelligent, and he would’ve been expelled. The school had been desperate to get rid of him, but desperate to have him at the same time. Truth be told, he had fun exploiting the system every so often.

“Yeah, he was acting shitty. I gave you a cookie for beating him up, d’ya remember?” Alfred said with a grin.

“Of course I remember – it was one of your father’s cookies. His are brilliant.”

“I’ll tell him that. Dad gets super-happy whenever anyone compliments his cookies. Like, you wouldn’t believe how happy he gets! I remember, once his boss ate one and said it tasted hella good, and he wouldn’t stop talking about it for days! And Valentine’s Day at mine is always cool, ‘cause he makes cookies for Mom and I eat half of them ‘cause why not?”

“I believe they’re for your mother only, idiot,” Arthur mock-chided with a roll of his eyes and a reluctant smile. “Anyway, putting the topic of cookies aside, would you like to return to the party?”

“Nah,” Alfred immediately said, “I mean, I like parties and crap, but hanging out at yours sounds like more fun. Oh oh oh, can we watch a horror? It’s Halloween, we have to!”

Feeling rather elated with the fact that Alfred had chosen him, Arthur replied, “Of course! Although, it has to be British.”

“Nah, dude! American horror films are the best!” Alfred objected, and they argued over which country’s horrors were better in that wonderful bickering for bickering’s sake way that Arthur loved.

“How about we decide when we go home?” Arthur suggested. “It’s starting to rain again.”

“Yeah, good idea,” Alfred replied, and they set off. Out of nowhere, he squealed, “I’m just so excited! We’re gonna have a sleepover and watch horrors and-”

“We always do that, anyway,” Arthur pointed out with a laugh.

“Yeah, but now we’re dating, and so we can cuddle up and hug and kiss and do all those things that I’ve wanted to do for ages!”

“Fair point,” Arthur said, barely containing his own excitement. “Please tell me we’ll be sharing a blanket.”

“Holy crap yes!” He turned to Arthur, and even in the rain Arthur could see that his eyes were almost twinkling and sparkling, like they held all the stars in the universe. “This is going to be the best first date ever.”

Smiling warmly, Arthur slid his hand into Alfred’s, and together they walked back to Arthur’s house – not as friends, but as lovers.

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