comment drabbles
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
Rating & Warnings: G
Summary: America tells England about his true love.
My Dream Woman
"And I found a better woman," brags America, who stands at the fringes of England's true love - the sea. "She uses your lady as a vanity mirror and holds the sun in her front breast pocket. The moon is her beloved midnight pearl, but the stars, the stars are her eyes."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
America points upwards.
( She takes my breath away. Atmospheric pressure is so romantic. )
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
Rating & Warnings: G
Summary: Ireland deals with a grumpy kid America.
"Now don't give me that face."
America gave him that face, the one with the hearty pout on his lips and the angry wrinkle between his slanted eyebrows. If those sky blue eyes were perhaps greener, then maybe, maybe America would look just like -
With a cross between a sigh and a cough, Ireland shook his head and ran a hand across his sweat soaked hair, "Didn't you hear me, boy? I told you not to give me that face. I don't want to see it! You look ugly that way."
Huffing, little America intensified his glare and scooted around in his stool to cross his arms and stare at the kitchen wall.
"Oh, don't be like that!"
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
Rating & Warnings: G
Summary: Kid!America sneaks into Ireland's bed at night.
Huddled underneath the crook of Ireland's arm, America peeks out between his fingers and cautiously scans the darkened room from beneath his fingers. Ireland snores so loudly it feel and sounds like summer thunder, but he smells like spring and Monday mornings right before a nice ride across the countryside.
America likes the smell, he likes it a lot, so he shifts and burrows his face against Ireland's ribs. Frowns when the crucifix around Ireland wears dig at his cheek. Ireland is a papist like France, which is weird and makes England angry a lot. He bears that cross around his neck that was just like his own but no not really, and pulls at his ears when he slips a little sin, and makes him read passages from the Bible right after giving him a good whoopin'.
But he tells him stories England never did, ones about spirits and faeries and gnomes and things not from England's lands, so it was okay. He was okay. Ireland was more than okay.
Because most importantly, even if he did fall asleep before he did just like England, America reckons all the noise Ireland makes at night scares all the ghosts away anyway.
Rating & Warnings: G
Summary: America tells England about his true love.
My Dream Woman
"And I found a better woman," brags America, who stands at the fringes of England's true love - the sea. "She uses your lady as a vanity mirror and holds the sun in her front breast pocket. The moon is her beloved midnight pearl, but the stars, the stars are her eyes."
"What the hell are you talking about?"
America points upwards.
( She takes my breath away. Atmospheric pressure is so romantic. )
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
Rating & Warnings: G
Summary: Ireland deals with a grumpy kid America.
"Now don't give me that face."
America gave him that face, the one with the hearty pout on his lips and the angry wrinkle between his slanted eyebrows. If those sky blue eyes were perhaps greener, then maybe, maybe America would look just like -
With a cross between a sigh and a cough, Ireland shook his head and ran a hand across his sweat soaked hair, "Didn't you hear me, boy? I told you not to give me that face. I don't want to see it! You look ugly that way."
Huffing, little America intensified his glare and scooted around in his stool to cross his arms and stare at the kitchen wall.
"Oh, don't be like that!"
Fandom: Axis Powers Hetalia
Rating & Warnings: G
Summary: Kid!America sneaks into Ireland's bed at night.
Huddled underneath the crook of Ireland's arm, America peeks out between his fingers and cautiously scans the darkened room from beneath his fingers. Ireland snores so loudly it feel and sounds like summer thunder, but he smells like spring and Monday mornings right before a nice ride across the countryside.
America likes the smell, he likes it a lot, so he shifts and burrows his face against Ireland's ribs. Frowns when the crucifix around Ireland wears dig at his cheek. Ireland is a papist like France, which is weird and makes England angry a lot. He bears that cross around his neck that was just like his own but no not really, and pulls at his ears when he slips a little sin, and makes him read passages from the Bible right after giving him a good whoopin'.
But he tells him stories England never did, ones about spirits and faeries and gnomes and things not from England's lands, so it was okay. He was okay. Ireland was more than okay.
Because most importantly, even if he did fall asleep before he did just like England, America reckons all the noise Ireland makes at night scares all the ghosts away anyway.