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“Dance Poppet, Dance.”

He felt like he was on top of the world. His mind was soaring; his heart pounded heavily in his chest with excitement and power. And she was the source of it all. He watched as she pirouetted across the dark tile floor, her feet gliding across the tiles as if it wasn’t even there. Her arms fell around her body gracefully as they swayed to the imaginary music in her head. Her simple white dress flowed around her, the fabric billowing out from her waist, gently twirling around her spinning legs. The blue bow that was wrapped around her (h/l) (h/c) hair chased behind her as she teetered back and forth. She was merely a blur of colors. Pink, blue, white.  
_________’s eyes caught hold of Arthur’s as her body took to another spin. Her eyes shined brightly, their deep (e/c) color sparkling, immediately pulling Arthur in. She was the embodiment of innocence and simplicity and it made Arthur all the more eager to touch her.

He sat there upon his throne, one leg throne over the delicate, gilded arm as his head rested in the palm of his hand, his elbow resting on the other arm of the chair. His blonde hair fell haphazardly across his face obscuring his vibrant green eyes. Lazily, he sat there watching his little puppet dance mercilessly in front of him, his amusement evident in his eyes.

This is what he wanted. To stay here. To be in control. This is what he craved.

Suddenly _________ stopped dancing, as if the music had come to a close. Silently she bowed before slowly walking towards Arthur. Every step was minute and calculated, as if she was walking on glass. Arthur’s hand twitched. He wanted to reach out and touch her delicate frame, to caress her perfect face. He had to ball up his hand next to his side to contain himself; if he hadn’t he would have sprang from his throne and enveloped her in his arms, crushing her with his embrace.

She had now made it to the base of his throne, her feet carefully making their way up the velvet lined steps. Slowly she stopped before him, kneeling so that she looked up at him, so she could see into those shining verdigris eyes. Her hand reached out, as if in slow motion, to caress his cheek. But just before her hand made such contact, an ear shattering scream pierced the delicate atmosphere. __________ fell away from Arthur, just a blur of colors. Pink, blue, white. Red. Arthur’s head pounded, the pressure making his ears ring. The scene started to fade, objects turned into mere shapes, sounds turned into faint waves. Arthur felt like he was being ripped apart.


Arthur shot up out of bed, his eyes bursting open. He could feel the sheen of sweat that stuck to his body, but his limbs felt ice cold. The sheets around him were torn from the bed, lying haphazardly on the floor. His breaths came labored and sporadic; his mind was a buzz with silent noise.

“That same damn dream…”

As his eyes adjusted to the dark shadows of the room, he looked over at his bedside table. 2:32 AM. He roughly pushed himself off the edge of the bed. He didn’t care that the cold floor stung his feet; he didn’t feel the pain as he stumbled over his shoes he’d left by the bed earlier that night, he just had to get some air. He made his way over to his window, roughly pulling the curtains aside and thrust the window open. The cold breeze hit his bare chest sending a shiver down his spine, but it felt good. He took long deep breaths, slowly inhaling the fresh night air. This was getting old. He had to stop these teasing nightmares before he cracked.


Arthur sat at his kitchen table, a half drunk cup of Earl Grey sitting beside him, the newspaper thrown in the chair opposite him. His head was in his hands, the wheels in his mind stalled on one single thing. He had saw __________ again today. It seemed like every time this feeling of overwhelming heartache crept into Arthur’s life, she showed up. The heartache was normal; he had loved and lost for centuries now. It was the life of a country, one of the consequences you could say. However the way _________ made him feel was far from normal. His hands twitched and his mind went blank every time he saw her. His heart would pound and he would get this overwhelming urge to run his hands over her everlasting form. It seemed like her very presence was a poison to him. Sometimes he even thought she did it on purpose; purposely showing up in his life when he seemed to be at his weakest point, almost as if she was taunting him, teasing him. But she couldn’t possibly know how she made him feel right? _________ had very little actual contact with Arthur. Most of the time it was a fleeting glance, a pleasant smile or a simple wave of her hand, greeting him or sending him off.

He still didn’t know exactly how _________ had came into his life. He knew that she was one of the few humans that knew about the World Conferences. He knew that Ludwig had hired her after she had accidentally stumbled into one of the meetings, but she proven to be quite the worker. She was responsible with her work and could keep a secret well. Secrets. I wonder what secrets she has… Arthur shook his head. This had to stop. It was starting to affect his performance at the Conferences. He would stare off into space, not even listening as the other countries discussed their problems. He didn’t even have the energy to fight with old Frog Face anymore.

Slowly Arthur rose from his seat as he walked over to his living room window, looking down onto the empty streets of London. He knew there had to be a way to stop all this but he didn’t know where to start. His mind started to recall the one time he actually did get to hold _________ in his arms.


Arthur ran his hand through his unruly hair. The World Conference meeting had been irritating. Everyone had been bickering back and forth. It had been one of the most unsuccessful meetings they had ever held. He would be happy to get back to his hotel room so he could unwind and relax, enjoy a nice cup of tea and catch up on some Doctor Who. As he made his way down his hallway in the hotel were all the nations were staying for the conference, he noticed a dark hooded figure walking down one of the side halls, slowly as if he were following someone. Arthur dropped his briefcase silently next to his door and followed the figure. As he rounded the corner he noticed that there was in fact a person walking ahead of the hooded figure, a female he noted, by the fitted jacket and simple skirt she wore. But as she stopped and turned to unlock her door he instantly recognized her profile just as the hood figure launched themself towards her.


Arthur ran forward as the dark figure grabbed _________ and pushed her inside her room. Quickly he grabbed the figure, pulling them off of _________’s shaking figure. He brought one arm up around the figure’s neck as the other hand held the figure’s hand behind their back.

“I suggest you leave and never return or I won’t let you leave unharmed next time. Understood?”

When Arthur didn’t get a response his arm tightened around the male’s throat. (He could tell it was a male by his broad shoulders and the stubble along his neck.)

“I-I understand-d. Let me g-go…” The male gasped for air. Arthur released him roughly and pushed him towards the door, anger staining his eyes a dark malicious green.  He stood there for a moment as he saw the figure rush off, stumbling, terrified down the hall. He closed the door behind him, locking it, and then turned towards ________. She was sitting upon the floor, her arms hugging herself, tears streaming down her face.

“________ it’s okay. He’s gone now. Everything will be alright now, love.”

Arthur knelt beside her, his fingers delicately wiping the tears away from her eyes. Suddenly she lurched forward, wrapping her arms around Arthur’s neck, her head resting in the crook of his neck. He was sure he could hear his pounding heart, but she probably assumed it was the adrenaline from the attack. Slowly he wrapped his arms around her form, rubbing soothing circles into her back while cooing into her ear, telling her everything would be all right. _________ knew everything was alright, she was just glad that Arthur was there; she felt so much safer in his arms.

After a few moments _______ pulled away, the tears gone and small smile on her lips. Without warning she leaned forward and kissed Arthur on the lips. It was short and faint, like a butterfly’s kiss. It lasted only seconds, but Arthur had felt it.

‘Thank you Arthur.”

Arthur felt his whole body begin to quake. It was strange, he felt like he was on cloud nine but at the same time his body felt like it was breaking down.

“D-don’t worry about it, love. A-anyone would have done the s-same thing.” Arthur stuttered, his accent thick. He felt really warm now, almost feverish. He had to get out of there despite how much he just wanted to cradle _________ in his arms. He only spent a few more moments there to make sure she really was okay before dashing out of the hotel completely, only to find himself collapse on a park bench some blocks away. That was when the dreams had started.

~End of Flashback~

Arthur sighed heavily. Suddenly he pushed himself away from the window, not even bothering to close it. He quickly grabbed his keys and his dark trench coat from the closet before dashing out the door of his apartment and hurriedly down the street. Before he knew it he was walking up the stairs in another building, just feet away from ________’s apartment door. He knocked on the door 3 times, each knock short and desperate.  It didn’t take _______ long to open the door.  She stood there smiling up at him, framed by the backdrop of her apartment.

“Hey Arthur.”

“Hello, ________.”

_________ noticed something seemed off about Arthur. He looked disheveled, upset even.

“Arthur, is everything okay?” She asked, concern apparent in her voice.

“C-can I come in, love?”

Her eyes widened for a moment. Something must be wrong.

“Of course, Arthur. Come right in.”

She stepped aside, letting him in. She closed the door behind him and watched as he paced across her living room floor. She walked up beside him about to ask again if everything was okay when he sharply turned so that he was facing her. His arms extended and his hands rested on her shoulders applying the gentlest of pressure. _______ could see there was a glint to Arthur’s eyes, a mix of apprehension and denial. She felt his hands shake ever so slightly against her shoulders. What had him so freaked out?

“I need you.”

What? ________ was a bit confused by his words. She looked at him head cocked to the side, an eyebrow raised. Arthur stepped a bit closer so that there were just inches between them.

“I n-need you __-________.”

This time he moved even closer so that their noses nearly touched. ________ could feel his breathe against her cheeks. They flushed profusely at the sudden closeness, but before she could say anything a set of lips pressed against hers. Arthur had taken the plunge. He couldn’t take it any more. He couldn’t stay away from her any longer, it was like she had a hand on his heart and was toying with it at that very moment.

He pressed closer towards her, his lips quivering ever so slightly against her own. Arthur had never felt this way before. Like a beast. As if his life depended upon this kiss. Like she was his oxygen. The kiss was gentle and benevolent despite the feelings rushing through his blood. Instead of pushing him away like Arthur had expected, he felt a hand cradle his head as the other gently pulled on the soft fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer.

Suddenly it felt like something within in him finally broke, the chains unraveling from his limbs. Slowly the dark cloud that had been muddling his brain faded. His body felt weak and fragile, but he was finally free. “I finally know how she operates…” he thought.

They both broke for air, their faces flushed from the contact. Arthur held ________ at arm’s length, taking in her features, memorizing them in case this all faded away. She was smiling graciously; her eyes sparkled with excitement as he stared at her lovingly. Her delicate frame was clad in the simplest of attire, a light t-shirt and dark jeans, but she looked as ravishing as the Queen.

Suddenly Arthur pulled ________ back into his arms, wrapping them tightly around her waist as he buried his face in her soft (h/c) hair.

_________ returned the hug, throwing her arms around his neck.

“Thank you, _________.”

“Your welcome, Arthur.””

__________ smiled to herself as Arthur held her close. She had finally gotten what she wanted all along.
Another EnglandXReader. I wrote this awhile ago and just got around it editing it. ^^;
I really should be working on my requests, but procrastination and art block have taken residence in my head. T.T

Inspired by the song Operate by Three Days Grace. Check out the new song here. [link]

I do not own Arthur Kirkland
I do not own Three Days Grace.
I do not own you.
But I DO own this fanfic.

Hetalia © Himaruya Hidekaz.
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You witnessed the scene from a distance, watching as your proud love fell to his knees. And from across the field that had be tainted with battle and fresh blood, you could hear the shocked, cold words of the victor, "You used to be so great," and a sob from the owner of the green eyes that were clasped shut in pain.

You could at least be grateful that the rain took focus away from water currently falling from your orbs.

An hour later you took Arthur's hand, and dragged a dazed nation back home, while he wondered all the while if the fight he just fought was worth while. He could no longer call himself a sibling. That thought burned more than he would have liked it to.


That had been a three months ago. And during those months, England has slowly let the toxic elements of the event drain from him. You helping him whenever he stumbled, but he was strong even when his little brother had just broken ties.

You were England's room, waking up on his bed, blinking up to see a crate being sealed by the ex-pirate, a block of tea being the last thing handed inside. "Was I that... Horrible?", he muttered.

Stop it Arthur. You can't keep thinking like this.

"No, you are not horrible! Alfred just wanted to be an adult! You are the opposite of anything horrible! You raised a little boy when he needed it! The fact that he was strong enough to live by himself is something you should pride yourself in!" The words are fogged by you throat that was still waking up. They hold no sting, but they're sharp enough to pierce a bit of sense in his narrow mind.

He looks to be in the middle of processing the statements when you gently glide the quilt off your shoulders. The Brit doesn't hear your steps as they carry you to him, but he is suddenly over come with warm as you settling in his lap, planting your legs on the sides of him, and your hand comforting the hairs near his neck as your forearms rest on his shoulders.

You spare a smile before you look up at him.

His shoulders aren't hunched over; your grin grows a touch.

He's healing. And you hope your words put a final seal over the damaged corner of his soul.

"Al loves you, Arthur, your his big brother."

They do... The glimmer in grass field that are held behind his eyelid are suddenly filled with sun, the moon falling out and the ball of beautiful fire joining the bright grass you had missed seeing shine.

You shift, seeing if you could nuzzle into him even more, trying to rid him of the final chilling cold. You give him a small peck. "I love you to, you Brit," you look into his green orbs again, so utterly hypnotized and, God, they so much better when they carry no mist in their depths.

His lips slant over your parted one, breathing you in. You arms squeeze him, pulling him closer. It the first time either of you haven't felt weighed down since Alfred left. His tongue probes your mouth quickly, before he has to stop, keeping himself in control, having to say the words he had forgotten to before he tasted you. You best him to it, but in a different form of course, something that held a hidden meaning, something that you had showed one another for so long.

"Nobody hates you, Arthur,"

He gave you a knowledgeable smile and his grip on you tightened.

"I love you, too,"
Hey! I'm trying to get over this writers block. It sucks! Ggrr but I hope this is good nonetheless

I don't own Hetalia, you or England!


¤Thank you for reading! :D
¤Please leave a review
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Today was the last day you'd spent with your English gentleman before he would return to his hometown after a two years business trip.

Here you were, spending the last day watching movies with Arthur, your head on his lap. You smiled, looking up at his green-eyes, blond hair and his perfect features. You saw him glance back down at you as you hurriedly look away back to the television. Arthur's hand began stroking your hair. "What's the matter, love?"

"N-Nothing," you answered. "It's just that... I know I'll miss you when you leave tomorrow." Arthur stopped stroking your hair as the words came out of your mouth.

"I know," he said sighing. "I will come back. Or you can come to England when you're free."

And so, that following morning, you and Arthur were riding the taxi to the local airport.

You were there to see him off as he requested. Arthur had his hand cupping your chin, smiling down at you with his gorgeous green eyes. "I'll miss you, (Name)..."

"I don't want you to go, Arthur..." Tears drip down your eyes, but you were forcing yourself to smile.

"I don't want to leave you either, love. But I have to go..." His voice was growing hoarse, as if they were full of remorse. You threw your arms uncontrollably around his neck, crying into his casual clothing. You felt Arthur's grip tighten around your waist - as if you were going to vanish if he let go.

Passenger of Flight 71098 - please report to Terminal 3 for check-ins...

It was time for Arthur to go. No matter how desperate you didn't want him to.

"Love," he whispered into your ear. "I know I don't have a bouquet of roses, or a ring to show you my appreciation - but, will you marry me?"

You started to cry even harder at his sudden proposal, but in the end - nodded madly. Arthur only picked you up, twirls you and lands his lip onto yours. You only return with the equal amount of passion that he gives to you, for you don't know when you'll see him again.

"I have to go, (Name)." Arthur only mumbles out these few words, saddened. "These two years has been pleasurably spent with you. I love you, (Name). Don't you forget me while I'm gone."

With that, Arthur strolled into the departure terminal with his luggage in hand and eyes not turning back, for he is afraid he will turn back if he looked at you.

You only went home that night, staring at your flashing television. That marriage was all an empty promise, was it?

You knew that there was a chance that you would never get to see Arthur again.

That night, you realize that you had received an email.

"I'm back in London, love. I miss you already.

Love, Arthur."

Though there was a chance that you would see him again, and soon.

You clicked on the local airline to check how much the ticket would be to visit him.

"Flight 4520 - $2,500 + tax applicable; Flight 11/15. o Round-trip ; o One-Way

You clicked on the round-trip tab as you selected a return date to be six months after November.

Maybe then would be a good time to plan the wedding.


That Thursday morning, you were off to the airport to fly off to London.

London was everything you had expected. The Big Ben, beautiful museums and historical buildings. It was time you call Arthur.

"Hello. Arthur Kirkland speaking. Who is this?" His voice was faint on the line, but it was lovely to hear him talk in that British accent that made everything sound so... gentle.

"It's (Name), Arthur." You heard him gasp through the other line.

"My love! You're in London!? Where are you?!"

"I'm by," you paused, spying for a street sign. "Warwick Street."

"I'll be right there, love!" You heard Arthur hang up on the other line in joy.

London was full of livelihood. People running and children laughing. It was nothing like your block, where it would become dead by three in the afternoon hours.

"(Name)!" That voice. It was no mistake.

His arms threw around your neck, his noise taking in your wonderful scent.

"You're in my arms again," Arthur whispers.

"And I'm going nowhere else." You only stand on your tippy-toe to kiss him as he bends down so the two lips would meet. People started clapping, cooing and saying 'congratulations!'. It was such a wonderful mood.


Here you were now, sitting in Arthur's large office - planning the wedding on his computer, being super indecisive about your wedding gown.

"How about that one, love?" Arthur points to one as you point to another. "Then how about both of them?"


"What," he asks as he stands to pour himself a cup of coffee. "Think I can't afford it?" Arthur smirks between his drinks.

"N-No! That's not the prob-"

"Then it's decided." Arthur only comes back to pat your head, and to stroke your hair. "And now it's just for the wedding day. How about next month of the 25th?"

"Christmas?" You asked.

"Makes it more memorable, no?" You nodded.


Christmas Day. It was snowing that morning through evening. You were now in the dressing room with Alfred F. Jones, your best friend as well as brother of your soon-to-be husband.

Alfred was a loud nut, loves ice cream and a super crazy maniac about scary movies.

Without your parents, you walked down the aisle with Alfred by your side, holding your hand. Alfred handed you to Arthur as he flashed his signature thumbs-up.

Thank goodness he didn't shout.

The Father began to speak and went on with the ceremony as you heard occasional cooing, sobbing and 'the bride and groom is so beautiful together' or sometimes 'he belongs to me... in my heart'.

"... Do you, (Name) (Last Name)?"

You look to Arthur one last time before giving a nod. "I do."

Looking back, it's been so long.

"... And do you, Arthur Kirkland take (Name) (Last Name) as your lawful wedded wife?"

"I do." With that, he turns to you, lift your veil and kisses you - and of course, the whole church tosses itself into a series of applause.

"DUDE! ARTHUR! WAY TO ROCK!" Of course Alfred would scream out something.


The after-party of the wedding was held in a nearby catering hall by Arthur's large house.

You had worn the second outfit that you chose to the party.

And undoubtedly, you enjoyed the party with no ends.

You felt Arthur tap your shoulder. "Love," he began. "I love you, you know that?"

Ah, he must be drunk. But drunktards always told the truth.

"Well, don't you know I love you too?"

"I do, I do... I love you more." It didn't take more than a second before his lips crashed down onto yours with full passion.

He was all yours, and forever your gentleman.

Don't think you're ever leaving London - because you're not.
Why do I like writing England wedding scenes so much? Tell me. D: Someone tell me! England is such a gentleman and cutie to work with.

Authoress: Thank you, England!
:iconsexyiggyplz: :iconsaysplz: You're welcome, love.
Authoress: How do you feel married so many girls?
:iconsexyiggyplz::iconsaysplz: :iconenglandgiggleplz:
Authoress: O-Okay...

You (c) :iconenglanddrunkplz:
England (c) :iconhimaruyaplz:
Plot (c) =HillsOfSilence

Here are the links of the wedding dress!
Wedding Dress for Church: [link]
Wedding Dress for Party: [link]
Suit for England: [link]

I love writing for England.

Commission? Tell me!: [link] or on my profile, whichever is easier for you. o3o
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Absolutely Incomprehensible British Gentleman


     "You know, I'm really glad you decided to join us, (Name)."

"Only because I know you'll need a ride home."

"HAHAHAHA! Dude, you know him so well!"

Arthur glares at America as he holds the door open for you. To get immediate revenge, he slips through the doors before America and thus resulting in the doors smacking the poor guy in the face.  Alfred laughs that off as he swings open the door, whacking England on the back. Arthur staggers forward then turns back to America, yelling,
"Watch it, you idiot!"

You look back at them and sigh, "You haven't even taken a sip of cider and you're already acting irresponsible."

"He started it," Alfred strolls past Arthur and stands by your side, scoping the pub.
The place is lively; filled with music and laughter. The bar glistens from just being wiped down for the nightly round of hoppers.  The tables are nearly all completely taken…And it was only 10:00 pm.

"It's gonna be a long night," you mumble. England casually takes a seat at the bar. You sit in between Alfred and Arthur, for the sake of your sanity.  The clatter of dishes rings from somewhere in the building.

"So guys, I was thinking we should have a contest to see who can hold the most-"

"Oh please, you already know that I've won that." England crosses his arms.

"Actually," you laugh nervously, "I'm not drinking tonight."

Alfred gasps, "Are you pregnant or something?!"

"No!" You groan. "Who's going to drive you two dummies home?"

"Oh yeah, I didn't think about that…"

"I've said that more than once, America. Please, try to listen better."

       America wasn't paying attention to your words. He was too busy trying to decide what he wanted. England is swiveling the bright red stool a little bit, anxious to get started. It isn't long before Joe, the Allies' favorite bartender, comes to you guys.

"Well look at who's back!" he laughs heartily, wiping his hands on his white apron.

"'Sup, Joe, my man?" America grins. Joe scratches his head.

"Nothing really, just playin' the sax more. You're lucky I'm here. I'd be playin' it now if I could be."

"Why don't you play here, Joe? I'm sure the boss wouldn't mind." Arthur suggests.

"You know how boss is; 'if it's got too much soul, then it's gotta go'."

      You all laugh. Joe's boss, Anthony, is really tight and anal, like he has a crab up his arse. Joe started saying that anything too fun was going to be taken away after the peanut fights were banned. Peanut fights: you simply take a bucket of peanuts and toss them around (or throw them at unsuspecting people). Of course America started that trend.

"You're right, Joe," America gasps for air. You look over your shoulder to see Mr.Anthony lurking in a corner before going into a back room.

"Back to my job," Joe wipes away a tear, "What'll it be tonight, groovy cats?"

"The usual for all of us," England says quickly. You begin to protest but Joe nods and says

"Alright, I'll do that. And guys…no more jokes about Anthony, he might've heard us."
You nod in unison with Alfred and Arthur.

"I wonder what France is doing right now," Alfred wonders aloud.

"Probably getting the farmer's daughter pregnant again." England chuckles at his own joke. You can tell that he's really going to have a really bad hangover.
The three of you converse about virtually nothing until the first round is set in front
of you.

"This round's on me," Joe's chocolate brown eyes have a mischievous glint to them.

"Sweet, dude! Thanks a butt load!"

"Yes, thank you."

       You don't say anything because you didn't want a drink in the first place. You look up at the clock.
It is 10:10 pm. You watch as England takes his first sip.

We'll be out of here in an hour, you think.


[Three glasses later...]

        "God save the queen," England mutters, "Do you know how long I've waited to get my Harry Potter cosplay?! I ordered it on E-bay: custom made and everything! And when it came-"he hiccups "it didn't fit right! The waist was too saggy…the same way that America wears his pants!"

America frowns. "I don't wear my pants saggy."
America was even wearing a belt tonight.

"You don't have a sense of etiquette, either! Bloody hell, you're hopeless, America!"
You sigh and swing your feet. Apparently sitting between them wouldn't stop their stupid arguments.

"I'm the Hero! I have a sense of etiquette."

"You would have one if you didn't leave me, America!" England bolts straight up and slams his fist on the counter.

"You just should have stayed with me! But nuh-uh! You had to prove to everyone that you could be so 'strong' on your own! Well, you aren't doing that well, bub!"


England continues, interrupting America. "No! You listen to me! I don't carrreeee who you think you arrrrre! I put so much bludy care into taking care of you and you…you declare INDEPENDENCE!? FOR WHAT?!"

"You kept making me pay to breathe, actually."

England hiccups again and waves a hand dismissively at America.
"It's called responsibility, ol' chap! Learn it, you half-minded bloody git!"
You look over at Joe. He's quietly snickering further down the counter while serving others.

"I raised you like any good person would do and you go and try to kill me!? Then you liberate your women by letting them wear pants?! Who do you think you arrrre?!" England slouches over the counter, looking into his glass. Then tips back, finishing it off.

"Oi! Joe! I want another!"


"Don't give him more!" You hiss at Joe. America swats away the glass.

"Seriously, he doesn't need anymore."

"Hey, Anthony says I'm not allowed to deny anyone a drink." Joe laughs, pouring more into the glass. You groan loudly, catching England's attention.

"What's wrong, love? You haven't touched a drop in that glass."

"I don't want it."


"Actually," you say lowly.

"Let her go, Britain," Alfred sighs, clearly annoyed.


So soon and his speech is already a mess.

"Joe, do not give him anymore...or I'll break your saxophone." You hiss.

     Joe walks away in utter joy, laughing as if he's never laughed before. England lets go of you and focuses on his drink.

"I really wish you could be cute like you used to be, America. Now you're just so…" his voice trails off. America takes another sip.

"Sure, Iggy,"
This sends Arthur over the edge.





Now America stands in frustration.

"Seriously, England, you need to calm down!"
England laughs and stands as well.

"I'm gonna go to the bathroom. When I come back, yurh gonna regret everything yuh said to meh."

       The Englishman storms away to the restrooms. You exchange a look of disbelief with America.

"He probably went to go throw up." He scoffs. You can imagine that to be true.

The time is now 10:46 pm.

        You're looking at a TV mounted on the wall when England comes out of the men's restrooms.
You jump a mile high as he leans on you from behind and hugs your waist.

"'Ello, gov'nor," he whispers in your ear.

"You ready to go home yet?" you ask impatiently.  Alfred doesn't even look at Arthur, clearly still upset.

"It depends," England says seductively. You spin around in your chair only to find that he's run off again.

"ENGLAND!" you shout angrily. He's standing on top of the bar counter; a black apron is all that's covering up Big Ben. He wears white cuffs around his wrists and neck. Of course, he isn't wearing shoes.
Everyone stops and stares at him. England shamelessly flips his hair.

"You like?"

"No." You stand and grab his arm, urging him to come down. "Why are you wearing that?!"

"Oh don't lie, you like it." He pushes your arm away and giggles bashfully. Arthur sits down and his legs dangle from the edge and into your personal space. You push them away and he purrs.

America covers his face on the low, saying "I don't know him."

"Arthur, get down," Joe demands, not finding this funny anymore. England looks in Joe's direction.

"Oi! Get meh anotha glassh. I'm thrishty."

Joe doesn't seem to want to approach England however.

"No? Well I'm the bludy Untied* Kingduhm. I con get mah ownnnnn liqua!" England slides down from the counter and snatches a wine bottle up on the opposite side.

"England!" You shout and climb over the counter, feeling like you have to tame a rabid animal. Iggy swirls out of your reach and hiccups.

"Yuh con look, love, but cha con't touch~" he smirks and slaps his thigh. He raises his eyebrows and does a little sexy dance.

You growl, "Alfred-"

"I don't know him."


"Now you see why I wanted independence."
You look back only to find that the wild drunk has vanished.

A woman screams far off in the bar.

        You bolt in the direction. England swirls the wine bottle, arms wrapped around an innocent woman.

"Get off of me!"

"Yuh're on meh, love!"

You yank Iggy off of the woman. He purposely falls back on you, making you stumble into a table.

"Whadaya doin', (Name)? You wont meh for yerself?"

You push him off of you and stand straight.

"We're going home." You say. Arthur looks offended, as if you just said that he was French and not British (of course, the time America said that to offend him, things ended up in a few day's argument and bickering).

"Whai? I'm noht goin'…'ome!" he turns away. Your face heats up and you cover your eyes. His rosy red cheeks are showing.

"THIS IS INDECENT." Someone yells.

"Get him out of here!"

"Stupid Brit!"


Anthony comes out of the backroom looking very agitated, "What's all the noise?!"

        Before you can speak, Arthur darts past you to Mr. Anthony.

"I've been lookin' evraywhere for yeh!"

Mr. Anthony takes one look at England and turns the color of England's cheeks.

"What the hell-"

"WHUT THE BLUDY 'ELL IS RIGH! Whut kinda pub do yeh think you're runnin?!" Arthur points an unsteady finger in Joe's direction.

"Thot good man ova thair is an ace saxo-player. No, not 'Saxony', I said 'sax' yeh git! Joeh is a giftad 'nd intellihent yung mahn, 'nd he deserves betta thon to work ot yehr stupid, tasteless, unauthentic, despecabhel,  French-influhanced place yeh wanna call a 'pub'! YEH DON'T KNEWR THE 'IRST TH'NG 'BOUT RUNNIN' A PUB. YEH NEED TO TAKE DOWN TH' UNION JACK OUTSHIDE, 'CUSE TH'S PL'CE 'NT W'TH 'T."

        You stand completely still, looking from Mr. Anthony to Arthur; and the rest of the pub is, too.

Anthony spits out the words, "Leave. Don't come back."

Arthur sways a little, and then smirks again. "I con due whut I wont."

"Get. Out."

"Who's goin' ta make meh? Yehr mummzie?  'ell cl'rly, I d'nt  've two bl'dy f'cks 'bout yeh or yeh d'mn 'p'b'! Joeh!" Arthur whips around to see Joe's face a distance away.

There are groans of disgust.

"Joeh! P'ck yeh b'gs, yeh n't com'n here 'nym're!"

Joe is about to respond, but Arthur begins rambling again.

"Oi! Fryin' mhent bhunneh! Wh'r ya beeeeeeeennnnnnnn? I've loooookkkkkkkeddd everrrrrywherrrre for yeh! D'd yeh kn'w thot th' 'ld, d'rty bostard thot run's th' pl'ce 's a pr'ckly wanka? 'ell yus 'e is, Fryin' mhent bhunneh. Oi! T'nk'rb'll! C'n yeh t'll Sp'rkly corn thot yeh d'n't p't p'an'tb'tta 'n sc'n's!? D'mb arse p't peanut buta 'n mah sc'ne y'sta deh! 'nd yeh d'nt  ICE TEA! YOU DON'T ICE TEA. EVER."

You see Alfred slowly creeping up behind Arthur, a metal tray in his hands, ready to attack.

"Oh! 'nd (Name)! I m'nt to t'll yeh thot I-"

       Alfred swings the tray, hitting Arthur on the head with a loud crack. The United Bloody Kingdom crumples over and onto the ground. People clear away, not liking the view. Alfred sighs and tosses the tray, kneeling next to the drunk.

"Joe? Do you think you could get his clothes out of the restrooms? I guess I have to drag him to the car."

"Sure…no problem…" Joe agrees and jogs to the men's restrooms. Mr. Anthony announces,

"Nothing to see here, people! Sorry about all of this mess."

You kneel besides Alfred.

"Will he be alright?"

"Eh, he's had worse," America shakes his head.

      Joe is back in no time, handing you Arthur's bundle of clothes.

"Be careful, his underwear is-"
England's Union Jack undies fall out of the bunch and land on your foot.

"Oh that's nice," you mumble sarcastically.

"I don't want to touch him."

"Maybe this would be easier if we put his pants on him."
England mumbles, "Oh shuttup yeh ninny, my legs are-"he begins to snore mid-sentence.


[Time: 11:15 pm]

        "I'm not suggesting we have drinks together anymore." America says from the passenger's seat. You glance over at him. You look back at the dark road.

"Maybe…I dunno…"

"It happens every time…but this was the worst…definitely…I'm so going to tell everyone about this."


"Because…I can. I'm the Untied Bludy Shtates of 'merica!" he mocks England's voice. You laugh a little.

"Okay, you tell everyone about this and I'll show everyone those 'embarrassing photos' from last year's Christmas party."
Alfred's face turns into that of horror.

"You wouldn't…"

"Yes, I would, Alfie."

"Don't call me that!"

"Alright, alright. So will you keep your mouth shut?"

It takes America a moment of thinking, but he nods.

"Yeah,…How long are you gonna keep those pictures to black mail me anyway?"

"Who knows? I still have the pictures of England from the year before that…Remember when he got so drunk he chased his invisible friends into the cake?"

"Yeah! And the whole cake fell over on France-"

"-and Italy started to eat the cake off of him?"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah! I forgot about that! And do you remember when Canada split milk on Russia's scarf-"

"-And Russia didn't know who did it-"

"And blamed Prussia for it!"


"Never has a punch to the gut ever looked so painful, dude!"

       You both laugh, stirring England in his sleep.

"Quiet down, I'm sleeping-" more snores.

      America continues to laugh and you do as well. Clearly, the drinks America had were beginning to affect him. You're glad you didn't drink anything tonight, because you were going to get prime footage of them for more black mail.
You had your camera in your pocket this whole time and couldn't wait to use it.
*England said "Untied". I am well aware of that :iconenglandgiggleplz:

Anyhow, this is my contest entry for #Hetalia-Artist.
The idea of making a Drunk!England in a story at all was suggested by a bestie of mine (seriously, I never would've thought to do so). :iconiggybrowsplz:

I forced myself to listen to Pub and Go!! the whole time to keep me in the correct mind frame to write this mess.:iconukdanceplz:
It worked throughout the whole story. Of course, you can guess what inspired the title name (England's voice is is a drug...) :iconus-xdplz:
If you have any questions about what the hell England starts saying, feel free to ask. I might've gotten carried away...just a little...:iconiggysulkplz:
And no, Joe is not an official character or my OC or anything, ya always need characters in a story~!:iconamericapartyhardplz:
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You shivered, waiting out in the cold for the person on the other side to answer.

"Arthur! Let me in~" you whined.  You heard a groan and footsteps approaching the door.

"Hello, _______________. What brings you here?" He asked, sounding slightly annoyed.

"It's Christmas eve, silly! I promised to spend it with you remember?"

He blushed. Was that really today?! "And I thought I told you don't bother." He said, not trying to be rude but doing so anyway. "I told you I don't do much for this holiday…"

You looked around his house. Boy, he wasn't kidding! You saw no sign of any kind of Christmas decorations.  It was as if the holiday was non-existent in his house.

"You should be grateful I came!" You scolded.  "Your house is so gloomy! Where are your decorations?"

Apparently, the words "I don't do much for this holiday" weren't registering in your head. "I haven't put them up, obviously."

"Why nooot?"

"Because I'm just not in the Christmas spirit. I haven't been since…" He paused, an extremely sad look in his eyes.

"Since…?" You encouraged.

"Since Alfred left. I never got much company during the holidays. Alfred was the only person who spent it with me…. So I just don't really celebrate anymore. I don't see a reason to."

Tears threatened to spill from your eyes. You loved England with all your little heart, and the thought of him being alone on Christmas for years and years hurt you almost as bad as it probably hurt him. You'd already had some idea of this; that's why you were here. But if you'd known it was this bad…

You swallowed the lump in your throat before cheerily responding, "Hey! What am I, chopped liver?"

He seemed startled. "N-no, that's not what I…"

"I'm just messing with you, Artie~ " You said, letting out a loud laugh almost reminiscent of a certain American's. "Tell you what; you let me help you decorate, and I'll spend every Christmas Eve and Christmas day with you from now on. How does that sound?"

He blushed at this. You didn't know it, but he reciprocated your feelings. And he had to admit, spending every Christmas Eve/Day with you made him feel all warm and fuzzy inside.

Of course, being the tsundere he was, he couldn't just come out and say that.

"Y-you don't have to do that…" he stammered.

"Aww but I want to, Iggy! (cue him growling at the nickname) I hate the thought of you being forever alone on Christmas!"

He rolled his eyes. "Forever alone? Really?"

"Sorry, when I hear sad stuff I automatically go into joking mode." You said, scratching the back of your head.
England facepalmed at this before mumbling something.

"Huh?" You asked.

"I said 'fine'! You can help me decorate, and stuff."

"Yay!" You cheered, hugging him tight.

"Git! Get off me!" He commanded, trying to get free.

"But I love you!" You said, not meaning for those words to slip so easily out of your mouth. You hoped he didn't think you meant it.

When he briefly stopped struggling after you said that, you worried maybe he did. But then he managed to pry you off.

"D-don't go saying stuff you don't really mean!" he scolded, face bright red.

Whew! You thought to yourself.

"So uh… should we start with the tree?" You asked, purposely not responding to that statement.

"Y-yeah, that sounds fine." He said.

"Lead the way~" You replied cheerfully. He walked in front of you, glad you missed the disappointed look on his face.

-Time skip to the decorations all finished –

"Wow! It's so beautiful!" You cried, looking all around England's house in amazement.

"Yeah, we did a good job, huh?" England agreed.

"Mmmhm!" You said, smiling at him and causing him to blush. You took notice of this, much to his chagrin.

"Arthur, are you okay? You look a little red…" You asked.

"Huh? O-oh, yes! I'm fine, thank you!" He said in that loud boastful voice that always told you he was lying.

"Arthur…" You insisted.

"I'm fine, __________! Really!"

"Arthur, we've been having a great time; why ruin it by lying?"

"I'm not lying!"

You sighed. "Whatever. Are there any outdoor decorations?"

"N-no… this is it."

"Well, I guess I should get going then…" You mumbled. "Oh! I almost forgot, I got you something. Wait here, okay?"  You made your way outside.

England panicked. You got something for him? But he had nothing for you! He'd look like a total jerk if he didn't get you anything! What to do, what to do…

Then he remembered something.

Cue flashback to the day you planned to spend Christmas Eve with England!

"Okay, see you Christmas Eve!" You said, waving goodbye.

"Yeah, yeah." He groaned, trying not to let on how much he was looking forward to your visit. With that, he closed the door.

He didn't even make it a few feet away from it when he heard another knock. Rolling his eyes, he wondered if you forgot something. That would be just like you.

But it wasn't you when he answered the door. It was none other than France. Oh joy!

"What do you want, Frog?" He hissed.

"Ah, mon ami, please put your metaphorical claws away!" The Frenchman requested, putting his hands up to show he meant no harm. "Believe it or not, I am ere to elp you!"

"Doubtful." Was the Brit's unbelieving reply.

"It is true! You just made plans to spend Christmas with ________, non?" He asked.

"W-what of it?!"

"Listen, it's obvious you both love each other. So I thought I'd give you two a little… nudge in the right direction." He explained, handing him a little box.

England took it and then gave him a death glare. "I swear, if this is a condom…"

"Honhonhon! Not zis time! But if zings go well…"

"Wanker! Just go home, will you?!" He yelled.

"If you insist!" He laughed, leaving.

England closed the door. He eyed the box curiously before opening it.

Inside was artificial (or so he assumed) mistletoe.

He closed the box, face bright red.

"Git." He mumbled to himself

End of Flashback!

You'd made your way back into England's house.

"Here!" You said, handing your gift to him.

"T-thanks…" He mumbled.

"Don't mention it!"

He started to open his gift, but you stopped him.

"Ah ah ah! Not till tomorrow!" You told him teasingly. Again, his face turned bright red.

"R-right… ______, I have a gift for you too." He stammered.

"Really?" You said, eyes sparkling.

"Y-yeah… and I'd like to give it to you now, if you don't mind."

You shrugged. "I guess not."

"Okay… wait here then." He said, going up to his room. He took a deep breath and got the mistletoe, going back downstairs and hiding it behind his back.

"So what is it?" You asked impatiently.

"C-close your eyes…" He tried to order, but it came out like a really shy request. Still you obeyed.

He gulped before slowly leaning in, pressing his lips against yours. Your eyes popped wide open in shock. You stood there too stunned to do anything. He must have taken this as rejection because he quickly pulled away, face bright red.

"I- I'm so sorry!" He said. "It's just…" He motioned his head to the mistletoe he placed above you. "The mistletoe, s-see? If I…"

He was cut off by you kissing him this time. He reacted the same as you at first, but eventually he closed his eyes and returned the kiss.

You pulled away, a big goofy smile on your face. "You know, if you wanted to kiss me, you could've just said so. Or you could've just done it. You don't need a silly excuse like mistletoe."

"I-I know that!"

"Yeah, now you do."

"Whatever." He grumbled, looking away. You pulled him into a hug.

"I love you, Arthur."

He smiled, face still a bit red, and hugged you back. "I love you too, _______."
Just a little christmas fluff.

I was discussing ideas for this with :iconyahoolyafool: and she suggested maybe a lemon should be involved. I wanted to do it, but I felt like it would ruin the mood... plus I just wasn't feeling "lemony" today T-T. I could always make another part with one though, if you guys want?

oh and :iconcommentplz:
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Not much I need to say here. I just want to specify that, (l/f/s) stand for 'least favorite subject.'
You rose from your bed and stretched as the afternoon rays of sunlight made your (e/c) orbs sparkle as if they were diamonds. Your eyes scanned the book that you have slept with in your arms.  A bright smile appeared on your face as you fingered the delicate pages of the ancient book. This book happened to be called, "The Gate of Glory", which was about a teenage boy named Nate. The main conflict in this story was about Nate searching for his long lost childhood friend named Glory. You just bought the book out of complete curiosity, but you were unaware at how addicting and wonderful the book turned out to be.

Being an only child, the internet and books provided your need for entertainment. When situations got tough, you pulled out an anonymous book and escaped from reality. However, due to your love of books, you were very timid and antisocial when it came to socializing with other members of society. Usually, society assumes that book nerds prefer to stay in their own personal shell at home, however you went outside of your house and read your book under an old oak tree. Speaking of which, it was about time you should get going.

You got up from the warm comfort of the bed and changed into skinny jeans, a (design) shirt, and a simple hat to top it off. You walked downstairs and opened the front door, while putting on your shoes.

"I'm going to the library, Mom! I'll be back!" You exclaimed throughout the household.  

"Be careful, (Y/N)! Don't meet any boys!" She yelled back in the kitchen.

You closed the door behind you then locked it, proceeding to walk to the library. The sun illuminated its light perfectly, making your (h/l), (h/c) hair roast. You took a deep breath of the fresh fall air as you walked through the streets.

After ten minutes, you finally reached the red-leafed tree on the property of the library. You took a seat on the soft grass and quickly adjusted yourself so you could feel more comfortable. After adjusting yourself, you lay back on the tree and turned to the page thirty six. Once you got to the page, you began reading where you left off.

"Nate frowned as he packed his traveler's backpack. Today, he discovered that his childhood friend was missing, and so he set out on an adventure to find the blonde-haired girl. He would never let his eyes wander off from his friend, but now that he failed to do that very thing, he planned to go to every corner of the earth just to save her. Glory was Nate's only friend. It's not like he was shy or anything, it was because people neglected him due to his crimson and pitch-black heterochromia. All his classmates avoided him, all except Glory." As she continued reading, she failed to notice a tall shadow behind her.

The emerald-eyed man read a few lines from the book behind her before greeting her.

"Hello, love." He said in a thick British accent. You jumped and slammed the book shut.

"H-Hello." You said with a large amount of uneasiness in your voice. The messy blonde frowned as he observed your trembling position.

He definitely had a better taste in music then most modern boys these days. He wore an olive, green vest over a white long-sleeved cream shirt along with some leather pants. You mentally sighed of relief after you saw what he was wearing. You resented what modern boys wore, and you were glad that there was someone in the world who dressed like a gentleman.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you, love." The British man apologized, frowning.

"I-It's okay; it's my fault for not being aware of my s-surroundings." You said in reply.

With your shocked expression, came a skeptical mind. Who was this British man? You never saw him around town before, especially one with such manners.

  "E-Excuse me, but who might you be?" You asked with a mixture of curiousness and shakiness.

"Oh, excuse my manners love. My name is Arthur Kirkland. What's your name?" Arthur asked curiously with a friendly smile.

"My name is (f/n) (l/n). It's nice to meet you Arthur." You replied shyly. Arthur's eyes scanned the spine of your leather book closely.

"So, what b-brings you to the library?" You managed to ask after building up the courage to start a conversation. His emerald eyes looked into your (e/c) ones ask you asked the question.

"I just wanted to explore my new home. You see, I have just moved in from England, and I was hoping to find a library." Arthur explained.

"Oh, by the way, are you transferring to the academy here?" I heard rumors that a new student was going to arrive." You asked, ignoring the shy side of your personality.

"Gakuen Hetalia, correct?" Arthur asked. You nodded your head softly. "How are the students?"

"All the students in our academy are very generous and friendly." Your thoughts went deeper into other categories of people. "Most of our people are friendly and generous anyways."

Arthur chuckled adorably, but his laughter faded when a phone was imitating a familiar tune. The tune happened to be by a popular band in England, but not a popular one.

"Is that song 'Absolutely Invincible British Gentleman'?" You asked with a bit of curiosity shown in your voice.

"Correct, love. Excuse me while I take this call." Arthur said before picking up his call. As he was talking, you especially noticed the excessive use of the word 'git' used in every sentence. After ten minutes of endless chatter, he finally hung up.

"I have to go to a family reunion." Arthur said sadly. You frowned and nodded in understanding.

"See you at school, my dear!" The man exclaimed, waving his hand to you while walking.

"Goodbye." You answered softly. Once he was out of sight, you blushed badly and narrowed your eyes. You realized that you have never talked to someone like that ever in your life! You clenched your book in your arms and smiled dearly. You knew that this was the beginning of love; however, you didn't try to overcome these feelings.

The Next Morning

The alarm you set as (f/s) awoke you at exactly at exactly seven o' clock in the morning. You got up and did your daily weekday routine: brushed your teeth, took a shower, dried and brushed your hair, and then changing in your adorable uniform.

As you finished the last touches to your uniform, you ran downstairs to the kitchen and grabbed a piece of toast.

"See you after school, my dear! Like I said, don't meet any boys!" Your mom exclaimed as you ran towards the door.

"Bye, Mom!" You said getting into your shoes. You took the keys off of the table next to the door then headed out. Everything that you needed was in walking distance so you didn't need to worry about getting late. The only reason you rushed today was because you had to show a new student around.

As you ran to the academy, you bumped into a familiar blonde.

"Are you okay, love?" Arthur asked, giving you a hand to help you up.

"Y-Yes, I should really be more aware of my surroundings," You said.

"Now that we are both here, do you mind showing me around the campus?" Arthur asked.

"Of course. Let's go." You said calmly. As you walked to the first classroom, you couldn't help to mentally fangirl over how good he looked in his uniform. He wore black slacks with a white dress shirt under a golden vest with a jacket with the school's symbol on it. As you made your way to the library, you couldn't help to notice the Bad Touch Trio strolling along. You prayed that they wouldn't bother you today, however you were too late. Francis was the one to make the first move.

"Ohonhonhon~ Why don't you ditch this thick-eye browed caterpillar and fall into my arms?" The French man asked, kissing your hand. You blushed and looked away.

"F-Francis! I will never EVER fall into your arms!" You exclaimed. You tried to push him away, but since he had a nice grip on your hand, he pulled you closer to him. His other hand was wrapping around your waist. You could feel your blush getting deeper as your eyes widened.

"Leave her alone, frog." Arthur said with his teeth gritted. Francis turned his head to Arthur.

"Oh? What are you going to do about it, mon cher?" Francis asked. After he asked the question, Arthur punched the left side of his cheek. Francis instantly let go of you and fell to the ground. Gilbert and Antonio rushed to Francis's aid.

"Shall we go, love?" Arthur asked. You nodded and led Arthur to the music room.

"We won't give up, frau!" Gilbert exclaimed. You rolled your eyes as you opened the door to the music room. Arthur closed the door behind him.

"Thanks for helping me back there." You thanked with your eyes sparkling. Arthur blushed and smiled.

"Anything for you, love."

As the months passed by, you and Arthur hung out every day. Every day, Arthur protected you from the dangerous trio. After many failed attempts, the trio moved on to a Hungarian girl. He helped you with your (l/f/s) homework and lectured you until you fully understood the material. Love was growing between you two, but you couldn't risk ruining the relationship you had now.

---------- Four months later: After school ----------

You waited for Arthur to get out of the restroom patiently. He seemed to be the only boy you knew who took his time in the restroom. After five minutes, he finally came out.

"Let's go to the library, love." Arthur said, leading the way. You didn't hesitate to follow his steps beside him. Luckily, the library was right next to the academy, so you didn't have to worry about strangers coming your way. As you reached the oak tree, you got out some homework and started to fill in the blanks in the book. However, you failed to notice Arthur using magic to transport you guys elsewhere.

Your eyebrows furrowed as you smelled the new breeze. It smelled like a blend of millions of flowers coming together in harmony. This description of the fragrance brought you to one conclusion. You and Arthur were at Glory's Gate. You put your book down and looked at your surroundings. You were right; every corner of the area had a flower planted in its soil.

Arthur plucked a (f/c) flower from the ground and placed it behind your ear. You could feel a blush crawling up your face already
"W-Why did you do this for me?" You asked, tears of happiness forming in your eyes. Arthur only chuckled in reply.

"It should be obvious by now, love," Arthur said. A blush was also creeping up his face. "I love you for a very long time, love. I could never bring myself to tell you." Your eyes widened and the tears finally started to come out.

"Arthur, I loved you since we first met. I was too shy to ever admit it to you." You explained. Arthur smiled and wiped away your tears then wrapped his arms around your waist. You wrapped your own arms around his neck. He leaned in and kissed you gingerly on your soft lips. You let your eyes shut as you returned the kiss. Your kissing skills were inexperienced at first. You blushed in embarrassment that your first kiss was Arthur. However, after a few minutes you got the hang of it. The two of you kissed in perfect rhythm and harmony. It felt just like heaven itself; you didn't want it to end. However, due to the curse of air, you two stopped the course of action. Arthur hugged you after you guys pulled you away.

"So will you be my girlfriend?" Arthur asked.

"You really are an idiot if you don't know the answer to that." You replied, hugging him back.

---------- At home ----------

Your mom stared at Arthur with a huge scowl on her face. You could already tell that Arthur was feeling uncomfortable.

"What do you think about (Y/N)'s breasts?" She asked with the same expression on her face. Arthur blushed and looked away, scratching his head. You raged at your mother at such a ridiculous questions.  

This piece of crap was requested by :iconthemysteriouspoet:

Sorry for this late request xD

I seriously have too much work on my hands right now, luckily I managed to squeeze this in. WOOHOO! :iconiggydanceplz:

I have punctuation problems, so sorry about that D:

Hetalia belongs to :iconhimaruyaplz:

You belong to :iconenglandplz:
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"...And that's the only way that you will get (y/n) to confess her love to you!" Alfred screamed into the phone.
"I-I don't know Alfred! That seems a little bit extreme..." Arthur said nervously, fingers tangling themselves in his hair.
"Dude, she won't confess otherwise! Come on, when have I ever been wrong?"
"Exactly. That's why IM THE HER-"
Arthur swiftly hung up and sighed. 
'is this really the only way?'
Only one way to find out.


You plopped down on your bed with a deep sigh. What a long day! You spent the day cleaning your house because your mom is so OCD with the way she wants things done. Your phone started ringing, loud and annoyingly. You groaned and rolled onto your stomach, stretching to reach your phone.
"Hello?" You said, annoyance obvious in your voice.
"*huff* *huff* (Y-Y/N)!!!" you heard an obnoxious American at the other end scream into the phone.
"What's up Alfred? You sound like you've been running a marathon."
"*huff* NO! *huff* its... It's Arthur! He's not answering his phone, and I found a strange note from him in my mailbox! Did you get one?!"
You paused and ran to your mailbox. Digging through it, you found a mint green envelope with your name scribbled on it.
"Yeah, Alfred I got one."
"OPEN IT!! I'm scared, mine says 'tell (y/n) I'm sorry' WHAT IS THAT SUPPOSED TO MEAN?"
You froze hearing him say that. 
'sorry? For what?'
Quickly tearing open the letter, you read through it, smudging the still wet ink. It was a suicide note. You froze, ignoring the American's frantic ranting.
'Is he gonna...?'
"ALFRED. CALM DOWN. I have to go check up on him, hopefully he hasn't done anything stupid yet... I gotta go."
You slammed the phone shut and ran out of your house and towards Arthur's.
'Please don't let it be too late!'

~~~Ja another time skip, but France already got beat up like ze unawesome loser zat he is, so ze awesome me vill take you through it. Kesesesesesese~~~

Panting, you finally made it to Arthur's house. He didn't live too far away, but he didn't live too close either... You were about to start banging on his door when you heard a muffled gunshot coming from inside.
You burst through the door and fell to your knees at the sight of  Arthur laying on the ground in a pool of blood. Bloody razor blades and half empty pill bottles scattered around his limp body, eyes closed, face expression sad and lonely. In his right hand sat a gun, freshly fired.
With tears in your eyes, you crawled over to him. You gently caressed his face with the back of your palm before pulling it back and slapping his face as hard as you could.
"You idiot! How could you do this to yourself?!" you grabbed the pill bottles and razor blades and chucked them across the room. You reached for the gun, and quickly slid it away from Arthur's body, as if it would somehow help him now. You crawled on top of him and cried, your face buried in his chest.
"How could you leave me here alone Arthur? I loved you... I always have..." You cried even harder as you clutched his shirt tightly.
You felt two arms snake themselves around your waist and pull you closer towards Arthur.
"I knew I could get you to confess, love."
You froze. That voice, is it really? You looked up from Arthur's now moving chest and saw the handsome Brit looking down at you with sorrow filled eyes.
"Sorry I had to put you through that love, but it was the only way," he said, rubbing small circles onto your back.
You just sat there crying harder until he pulled your body up more so that your face was level with his. His emerald eyes pierced into your (e/c) ones. His eyes fluttered shut and he pushed his soft lips against yours. You froze, not sure what was happening, but quickly melted into the kiss. You felt his tongue streak across your lips, asking for permission. You opened your mouth, quickly biting his tongue hard when he tried to enter your mouth.
"OW! What was that for love?" he squealed, trying to nurse it out of pain.
"THAT was for faking your own death instead of just asking me out," you giggled.
With that said, you quickly got off of him and casually strolled out of his house, not looking back once.
"Call me later Artie~" you called as he sat there, dumbfounded, still holding his tongue.
THE END. Or is it? Fusososososososososo~
No but seriously, it's done...
I've been working on a story with Italy and Romano... But I have writers block Σ( ̄。 ̄ノ)
thus this story was born!
I don't own Iggy, nor do I own you. I'm pretty sure the bad friends trio will share you with iggy ^^
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England x Reader



Looking at the time, Arthur sighed tapping his foot on the ground becoming impatient, he watched the people walking past your apartment, hoping that you would be one of the few to come running up the cement stairs to escape from the cold weather. Looking towards the stairs he catches a lucky glance of your familiar (h_c) his angry expression fades away to one of worry when he see's how red your cheeks are and how your struggling to catch your breath.

Walking towards your door (well, more like running) rummaging through your pocket you opened the door. Your fingers felt as if they were on pins, and needles when the warm air hit them upon entering your nice warm apartment.  You walked towards the couch, throwing your things on the floor you fell face forward. Curling up into a tiny ball on the couch you tried to ignore the shaking from your cold, and shivering body.

You could hear Arthur, walking towards his bed room. A small smile graced your weary features, but quickly faded away because it took too much work to smile. You were an hour late getting home, leaving Arthur to stand outside in the cold. Ah, you should have really asked to have an extra key made so he wouldn't have to wait outside.

Since it's winter and all, the two of you both need to attend work to pay for the apartment and food that you would need to stay happy and healthy. The thought of losing your apartment made you shiver in fear, fear not for yourself but for Arthur. After all your not very sure if he has a home to go back to, unlike yourself.  He never says one word about himself, he always ask about how you are and your family.

The sound of foot steps approaching you, the sound dragging you out of your light slumber. Warm arms wrapped around you, holding you close, the familiar smell of tea invading your senses.

"Bloody stupid girl. Working harder than you need to..." the familiar sound of a door being opened lead you to believe that Arthur was putting you to bed, you couldn't help but smile once your heat hit the pillow, Arthur pulling the covers over your body chasing away the chills (the blanket in truth being a poor substitute for Arthur's warm arms), allowing warmth to blossom through out your body. Quickly warming you to the core. "Y-you should rely on me more often you stupid git! I'm your boyfriend aren't I?"

Arthur choked out, biting his lip when his words registered in his mind, his face started to burn as he said. "I-I'll come back after supper is done and wake you up! S-so you'd better get some sleep before I come back!!" reaching out with your hand, you grabbed Arthur's wrist, smiling you mumbled.

"Make sure the food taste good...I wasn't able to bring home any leftovers....and I'm too tired to coo-" Arthur cut you off, "Ah, shut it, you've done enough already! Now go to sleep!"

A small smile graced your weary feature's you mumbled. "Thank's you."

Upon hearing those words Arthur felt as if his heart was being squeezed, placing his lips against your forehead, he let go of your hand after placing a small kiss on your knuckles smiling he walked away, the soft sound of your door closing announced that Arthur had left the room.

Yes, you love Arthur, and he loves you as well. He's your boyfriend but only when he's here with you, alone in your apartment away from the eyes of others, he shows you what he's really like. Loving, loyal, protective, and caring. But...once the two of you leave this apartment then you are just merely two people, two strangers who live together.

And that thought alone makes you not only feel sad....but lonely.
Hahah, yes, yes you can all beat me to death with rocks and stuff, because I'm so lazy~ eh...wait, no beat meh with rocks!!! :iconcryforeverplz: That would really hurt!

Welp~ I hope that you liked this! I MAY make more or not, if you want more then just comment or something. .w.

I own nothing~
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An England x Reader One-shot.


I opened the door of a café and smiled, it was warm and a sweet scent of cake and coffee warmed me up. It was a cold winter day, and snow crowded the stone pavements of London. During my flight to UK, I had worried about meeting him again. But I had brushed that off as soon as I arrived in the familiar streets of the city, and the kind faces of old friends before moving to America.

I looked to my left to find a seat to sit in. There he was, and our eyes met. He was still the same. His blonde hair that looked quite wild, and his ivory skin that were soft, and pink from the cold. His eyes were just the same I remembered—olive green with golden sparks of joy. It's Arthur Kirkland.

He is the man I loved. But I was too cowardly to tell him. He stood up, and his chair was pushed back with a small scrape and a groan.



It was a peaceful day in London, and _(name)_ had been hanging out with Arthur in the library for about an hour or so, listening to the young British gentleman ramble on about magical creatures and what-not. But sadly, _(name)_ wasn't paying much attention to what Arthur was saying, because she was too busy admiring his kind tone of voice, his eyes and just about everything else (besides his burnt up scones that she was somewhat immune to).

"What's your favorite fairy, love? Or do you like pixies better? I'd say it would be rather hard deciding between the two, though…"

"Huh? Oh, I-I guess I love them both equally. Like that fairy with the dragonfly wings! I-It's nice."

_(name)_ pointed at a picture with a caption saying 'dragonfly fairy'. Arthur let out a small chuckle, and let a small blush spread across his cheeks. Arthur loved everything about _(name)_ as well. Too bad he was much too shy to tell dear _(name)_ whom would love him back. Her soft-spoken voice and small, shy giggles, the innocent _(eye color)_ eyes that warmed the Brit's heart couldn't stop Arthur from loving her.

"Why don't we go to that café just around the corner, love? I think we have stayed here long enough."

"I suppose so! Let's go, I want some warm beverage."


"O-oh, hey, Arthur. I didn't expect to see you here."

"Really, love? We've been here together so many times before you left."

The last part died down, and I had thought about the memories I had shared with _(name)_, flipping through them like a photo album. I've been to this café at least once a week, ever since the _(skin color)_-skinned, _(hair color)_ girl left for America. Being the wit I had always been, I had regretted not telling _(name)_ I loved her. But then again, I would've been saddened if she rejected me, and I was frightened that I would be broken-hearted forever. I stood up and pulled out a chair.

"Why don't we have tea together? One white-tea, please."

I knew what _(name)_ loved, and I remember them as though they've been carved into my memory. I know what her favorite book is, her favorite beverage, color, and music. Knowing so much about her, I could probably create a biography, all about her!

"T-thanks, Arthur. You're a gentleman as always."

That smile, her voice, it hadn't changed at all. But what if her favorite beverage, color, music had changed? Once again, I regretted ordering her a cup of white-tea for her.

"Seems like you still remember my favorite beverage."

Those words had helped my regretful thoughts ease, but wondered if that was just simply sympathy?


"Wow, I love this place! It's nice and heart-warming."

_(name)_ looked around and smiled, pulling the borrowed books closer to her chest. Arthur smiled as well, and pulled out a chair. _(name)_ smiled and blissfully sat, happy to have tea with her crush. Of course, she didn't say this, but it seemed like her heart whispered it in her, making her blush red. Due to the cold weather in London, Arthur automatically thought it was simply the freezing wind making her cheeks burn pink.

"Uhm… I guess I'll have either white or black tea… I'll go with the white tea, then."

_(name)_ said, looking up from the beverage menu. Arthur ordered his tea and they chatted a little about their lives and such. It was indeed a pleasant afternoon.


"How have you been? I've been doing quite well for the past few years in America. I've also met your cousin, Alfred, several times."

"Oh, I see, love. I'm sure you've been kind to my cousin, but feel free to scold him anytime."

"You know I wouldn't do that, Arthur!"

I smiled, recollecting the fragments of memories that were scattered everywhere, and almost all of them had the name 'Arthur' on it. I must've sounded strange to him. My British accent has faded away, and I must've changed slightly. I exchanged information with Arthur about each other's life, while sipping tea.

"Seems like you're having a lot of fun in America…"

"Yes, but I miss London. I am being truly honest, I love it here than in America."

It was true. I love UK more than any other place, because I can be closer to Arthur. I keep all the mail that Arthur had carefully handwritten in his beautiful cursive in a small box, because that was the only way I felt closer to Arthur. There hadn't ever been one day in my entire life where I hadn't thought about Arthur, whether it was wondering when his reply to my mail would come, to how much better he would teach my classes in school.

Hey, Arthur, I love you. Did you know that?


"Write to me as soon as you get settled in your new home."

"I will."

"Don't forget me, or your friends, or anything related to London."

"I promise, Arthur."

_(name)_ chuckled while giving Arthur a hug and crying. She leaned back and looked at the British boy with tears in her eyes. Looking at the teary-eyed friend, Arthur shuffled through his pockets.

"Here, love."

He held out a leather bracelet, and it had the words 'friends' stamped on it. Arthur avoided _(name)_'s eyes while handing it to her. He then quickly pulled up the sleeve of his shirt and showed a matching bracelet. _(name)_ put a hand over her mouth and kept crying, letting the tears roll down her cheeks.

"Arthur, thank you!"

_(name)_ took the bracelet and put it on her wrist immediately. But then she had hugged Arthur again and whispered into his ears.

"Even without this, you'll still be in my heart."

As _(name)_ said goodbye and turned away to the plane, Arthur sighed. 'I love you, _name_.' He mouthed before turning away and out of the airport. _(name)_ looked over her shoulder and whispered under her breath. 'I'm sorry I couldn't say I loved you, Arthur.'


"Oh, Arthur!"

I exclaimed as Arthur and I were heading out the door of the café, heading to the library that I had invited Arthur to come along with me to. I pulled down the sleeves of my sweater and showed him the leather bracelet. Arthur opened his mouth slightly, showing a surprised face.

"You still have that?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

Before I could say any further, Arthur pulled me into an embrace. Blushing madly, I stumbled over my words.

"A-Arthur? W-what… Why, wait, uhm…"

"I love you, _(name)_. I've always had. I wanted to tell you at the airport, and maybe even before that, but I had been such a wimp for not telling you."

I was shocked. I couldn't speak, I didn't…

"_(name)_, w-why are you crying? My god, scratch all of that, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—"

"I love you too, Arthur! I couldn't tell you either! I love you! I always had and always will!"

Arthur pulled me into his well-built body as I cried into his chest, and hugging him back. The Brit then swiftly pulled back and leaned in for a kiss. My heart was exploding like fireworks and I wrapped my warms around his arms. When we finally parted, Arthur smiled a small smile. And we stayed like that for a few more seconds. Engraving that very moment in our hearts, and letting the silence whisper the love that we had felt for each other.
I do not own Hetalia, you, or England!

This was originally a request, but I tweaked some bits of it so all readers can read it. (The original, requested piece is here:[link]

Should I rename this as "England x Shy!Reader"?
Give me your opinions!
Also, the title itself, "Cowardly Love"...
Anything more creative?
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