(no subject)
So. I got bored so here are drabbles. 8D I promise I will make a legitimate entry soon. God, so many convention pics to upload, so little time. FUCK YOU, BAND CAMP
1. Pick a character or pairing you like for each drabble.
2. Turn on your music player and put it on random/shuffle.
3. Write a drabble related to each song that plays. You only have the time frame of the song to finish the drabble; you start when the song starts, and stop when it's over. No lingering afterwards!
4. Do ten of these, then post them!
5. ???
6. PROFIT!
Fandom: Hetalia
Pairing: America/Canada
1) Man! I Feel Like A Woman- Shania Twain
America found that usually, nothing bad came out of walking into Canada’s apartment unannounced. Usually, everything was nicely put together, the bear was asleep on the couch, and Canada was in his room or in the kitchen with a cup of tea and a nice book. Quiet and predictable; it was one of the things he loved about him, at least when he knew there was something he could depend on.
This was not the case. Oh god, it was not the case.
America did his best not to let his jaw drop as he stood in the doorway, eyes fixated to Canada’s ass that was being displayed proudly in a pair of Daisy Dukes, completed with some boots he was sure were stolen from his closet and a midriff shirt. He even had a cowboy hat that he knew was his, and oh god he was even flipping his hair god his soft, long, hair that he could wrap his fingers in
This was too much. Too much skin showing yet not enough and oh god Canada’s ass.
Canada’s ass.
It was about then that Canada finally turned and almost threw his stereo out the window. America snapped from his thoughts, and his bewildered look was replaced with a snicker.
“… Damn, Matt. Next time you stop dressing like an Eskimo, call me, will ya?”
2) What A Scene- Goo Goo Dolls
Flames. Bright, red and orange and some blinding color that was maybe something between yellow and white that flashed before his eyes so quickly he couldn’t register. Planks were falling around him, lighting patches of grass near his shoes, but he couldn’t bring himself to care until a familiar (and very expected) cough came from his right.
Canada turned his head sharply to see America stumble from the wreckage, hair scorched and face covered in soot. He didn’t get two steps before he was down on his knees, lungs protesting their lack of space to fill with oxygen loudly. America scrambled to get back up, but his hands slipped on the singed grass and ashes and he stayed where he was.
Not that he had much of a choice, seeing as there was now a boot firmly planted on one of his hands.
America did his best not to hiss and shot a glare up, as Canada gazed down at him wordlessly.
“Matt… Matt, what the hell!” Trying to wrench his hand away only resulted in a rip in the skin and blood beginning to pool into the wound. “What the fuck is all of this? This isn’t about you!”
Canada stood silently for a few seconds, and the only change in his expression was a flick of his eyebrow. “Not about me? That was my city you lit up, Alfred. That wasn’t Britian’s. If you wanted to go after him, you should’ve crossed the damn ocean yourself. Or are you too lazy for that?”
“Shut the fuck up!” Lunging forward, America grabbed onto Canada’s coat with his free hand in an attempt to drag him down into the dirt. Canada answered him by shoving him back to the floor and digging his heel farther into his hand.
“No. No, America, because I love seeing you this way. Cause all that trouble and the war for him, and what do you do? You turn around and try to be friends again, then lie your way into a war.” The words were practically spat, though neither of them wanted to relent. “You’re not a country. You’re nothing.”
Canada lifted his shoe only long enough to kick America straight in the chest, causing him to topple backwards. Walking over to him, he pressed his heel once more into America’s stomach, wiping the blood off on his burnt uniform.
“You’re not a country. And now, you’re not even my brother. Stay the hell off our land.”
3) Of All The Gin Joints In The World- Fall Out Boy
Sometimes during world meetings, Canada would spend his time getting lost in his head.
It wasn’t as if he was missing anything. He was almost entirely invisible as it was, so it didn’t matter if he wasn’t paying attention. His delegates took notes (because people could see them, somehow) and it wasn’t as if they got anything done at the things anyway.
This time, he was staring at America. America, as he talked to the chairman, as he yelled and the beads of sweat ran down his neck and he pulled at his collar in a second of nervous display. America, as he would open that big mouth of his and the words would spill out like water from a cliffside. America, who would slip his tie off over his head and unbutton his shirt and slam him into the backseat of his car and ride him until he screamed-
No. No, wait, this was a meeting and America’s mouth was being used for talking right now, not for… other things. Other things, like eating, or laughing, or wrapping his lips around Canada’s exposed cock-
Wait. Wait, wait, no. Meeting. Meeting. Right.
Canada sighed, crossing his legs a little bit to cover a growing erection. He needed to make a mental note not to pay so much attention to America when he was thinking of these things… but that made it no easier, because America did his best to make everyone pay attention to him.
Instead, Canada waited until America was the last one out of the room, grabbed his tie and pulled it off himself, but not before dragging them close for a crashing kiss. By the time Canada had gotten America’s pants off, he knew America had been reciting a prepared speech, because there was no way he’d already be that hard while talking about the gulf oil spill.
4) Want You Bad- The Offspring
There was a long list of things wrong with what was happening right at that very second.
One, Canada was in a broom closet with his pants around his ankles. Two, his brother was on his knees in front of him, lips wrapped around his exposed erection, sucking and licking like he’d been waiting to do this his whole life. Three, his knuckle was bleeding from where he’d been biting it. Four, the biting of his knuckle wasn’t at all helping the sounds coming from his mouth.
… To be fair, however, there was a long list of things that were very, very right with what was happening, as well.
One, Canada couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this good, to hell with where he was. Two, his brother was the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid eyes on and he’d been imaging this moment while he was in the shower for months, but his wet hand did nothing to compare to America’s tongue wrapping around his cock, licking down the underside and exploring around the tip. Three, his knuckle would heal. Four, America did a better job with encouragement.
Fuck.
“A-Al-Al, I still don’t know why- god right there -you’re doing this” Canada panted out, the rubber soles of his shoes skidding across the small floorspace as he tried to keep himself standing. “You-you could have anyone, and fuck, don’t stop--”
Canada could almost feel his brother smiling below him as he released his mouth from the task at hand.
“Because, Matthew…” Canada shuttered, his name sounded so wonderful when it rolled off his red lips-“I love seeing you like this. Almost as much as you love feeling it. And if you’re not going to initiate this, then I will.”
Without a second to spare, America’s mouth was back on Canada, and both of them emitted a wet noise as another sharp suck was given. Digging his fingers into America’s hair, Canada thrust forward, and made a mental note not to ask America any more questions.
5) You’ll Think Of Me- Keith Urban
It was strange, Matthew thought, waking up in a cold bed.
Soft sunlight bathed his room, in a way that would give off the allusion that it was warm. Stretching out his limbs, however, he frowned, because there was no body next to his.
It had been like this for the last few days. Ever since Alfred left. Ever since their stupid fight and his stupid ideas.
“Al, you’re being completely stupid! You can’t fight him, you just can’t!”
“Yes, I can! I can and I will and I’m going to! He doesn’t treat me like you, Matt… it’s different. I’m my own damn person and you should be too.”
Matthew sighed, stepping out of bed. He needed a cup of tea.
“Come with me, Matthew. We could take back the land that was ours. Remember, when we’d follow the buffalo through the plains?”
He waited silently for the water to warm.
“Al, you know it’s not like that anymore. It never will be.”
It was taking far too long. He was left with too much time to think.
“Fine. Stay with the bastard. I’m going to make something of myself… write me when you do the same.”
It was a full few minutes and one almost destroyed-pot to make him realize he didn’t want any tea that morning. It was another few minutes before he climbed back into bed and buried his face away from the sunlight of the morning. Britain would be in to get him later if it was important. Right now, he didn’t want to think about anything at all.
6) Hanging By A Moment- Lifehouse
Matthew didn’t realize he was actively pursuing his brother until he was standing on his doorstep, fidgeting and cracking his knuckles as he tried to find words to say to properly convey himself.
Just blurting out ‘I love you’ isn’t special enough he mused, gripping his fingers together. But it’s not like I arrived on a white horse. And he’s not a princess. Though he’d probably look good in a dress-
“Oh fuck.” Matthew muttered to himself, pressing his palm to his forehead as if it would help him think any. “This is completely ridiculous. He’s my brother, and I--”
“And you what?”
Matthew froze entirely when he realized the door was open and Alfred was standing right there, grinning his big movie-star grin right at Matthew. Right at him, with no one else that Matthew could imagine he was staring at because it couldn’t be him, it couldn’t, he wasn’t deserving of something special like that.
“I… uh, was just, going to say that you, er, are… y-you know, the hero, eh? And that’s why you’re here, to… uhm, uh… save... me.”
Matthew mentally banged his face into the nearest internal desk.
“Save you?” Alfred cocked an eyebrow, still smiling. “From what, Matt, the rays of sunshine?”
“N-No.” Matthew managed to sputter out, fingers clenched so tightly he could barely get blood flow to the tips before Alfred laid his on top and he completely lost touch. “From… from myself, because I have a prob--“
In just about no time, Alfred’s lips were pressed against his, and Matthew could barely register to push back before they were separate.
“There. Now I saved your heart… for me, right?” If it was even possible, Alfred’s smile grew wider. Matthew’s face went a bright shade of scarlet.
“… Y-You’re a sap, you know.”
“I know. But you’re cute, so it’s okay.”
7) Hey There Delilah- Plain White T's
It had been six months since he'd last seen Alfred.
"Hey, Matt! How's school going? Seriously, call me when you get this, okay? And never stop sending me more of those cookies from your caf!"
The letters kept coming in; weekly, almost like clockwork. Every Monday he'd get up and slug through his first class and come back to his dorm, and there would be another cross-country letter from Alfred. Despite their nightly talks, and the emails they exchanged, and the messages on Facebook and AIM, the letters would always come. Some would be as simple as "Hey, Matt! Blow anything up recently in chem? Tell me about it tonight!" while others would be 5-page monsters with heavy or stupid thoughts complete with illustrations. Alfred made it very clear he didn't need to write back; he said he liked writing letters, and who better to send them to then his cross-country boyfriend?
The curious part about his letters is that on top of each page, there would always be a musical score, and a single guitar tab accompanied by a number. At some point, Matthew had tried putting them together; the real problem was the numbers he had lined up to things like 22, 519, 631, and 924, and he couldn't make heads or tails of any of it. If he put them in order, they meant nothing. If he put them backwards, sideways (he even tried upside-down at some point), they didn't amount to anything other than a bunch of jumbled notes.
Still, every day, he tried to put them together. And every day, he didn't get his answer.
One week when Matthew dragged himself back into his room, there was a package on his bed, in lieu of the letter. Curiously opening it, he found a pile of papers; some blank, but most with more tabs, and a collection more of numbers. The final page had only a few lines:
'Line them up starting with 617 (6/17); our first date.
Bet you didn't know I played, huh?"
It wasn't two seconds before the box of letters were out on his lap and he was playing, smiling, and crying onto the strings, mouthing out the words to a beautiful tune. When he'd finally finished, he picked up the last paper, folded at the bottom.
"Next week, it'll be me on your bedspread."
8) I Won't Say (I'm In Love)- Disney (Hercules)
'I wonder if I can keep my face here forever.' Canada mused, peeking through his fingers just slightly to see if the scene before him had changed any. Through the gaps, he saw Hungary, Ukraine, Belarus, and Seychelles still standing before him, smiles as wide as they could stand (except for Belarus, which was probably a good thing), and Canada was left fearing to speak another word.
"... P-Please leave my living room."
"No!" Hungary yelled, running forward and grabbing Canada by the shoulders. "You need to talk to him! Right now! March up and just say--" She paused to let go of him and throw her arms out wide. "America! Take me in your muscular arms and make love to me on your carpet!"
Canada swore he couldn't go redder.
"N-No! It's-- it's not that simple!" He sputtered, plastering his face back into his hands. Within two or three seconds he was being shoved out of his own house by Seychelles.
"Just talk to him. Good luck!" The door was slammed and Canada sighed, beginning to slide his way down the sidewalk.
"... I'm never asking a girl for relationship advice again."
9) I Want It All- High School Musical 3 (DON'T YOU DARE JUDGE ME. element_43, this is all your fault.)
Canada knew his brother was completely insane, but he was almost certain this took the cake.
They were in the middle of a stage, and his brother was in a dress. And a curly blonde wig. And makeup.
And he was wearing a fedora and pink pants. And there was singing.
'How the hell do I get myself dragged into this...' Canada mused, looking over to America and trying not to drop over from the sheer embarrassment. America got into his movies- oh, did he love his movies- but whenever something new from Disney came out, Canada wanted to run for the hills.. because whenever there was a role like this, it happened. Always. Most the time, Canada was the girl... so at least this was sort of a plus, if only because America wanted to showboat.
The end of this that involved him dancing with catgirls made this no better. It was only progressively worse when the "practice" of the number ended, and Italy skipped onto the stage in a white dress and Germany followed in a basketball jersey. (How America had roped them into this, he had no damn idea). Sighing, he removed his hat as America bounced up to Italy and they started talking excitedly for a total of five seconds before he looked over at Canada again.
"Come on Matt, we have to run it again! This'll teach England I know what real theater is!"
10) Girl Next Door- Saving Jane
"Hey, America!" England called out, tapping the aforementioned person on the shoulder as they turned. "I need to go over this with-- oh, Canada. My apologies."
Canada let out a small sigh. "It's alright... I understand, Dad. He's over two seats down."
"Thank you, lad." England replied, turning quickly on his heel and sprinting towards America, who was busy chatting it up with China over building new factories. Canada allowed himself to slide into his seat, his arm falling to the side of the seat where it was caught by his bear's head. It was always like this... people approaching him to figure out he wasn't the person they were looking for. Everyone was always looking for America; his own parents (Dad and Papa, really), his own friends (Cuba to punch him, the Netherlands for stupid soccer-related anomalies, Ukraine for his tv shows), and even the people in his country flocked there for his beautiful land and Disney. (It was always Disney. Always.)
Somehow, he wondered how he didn't get used to it. After over a century of being treated the same way, he couldn't understand why he just couldn't get over being forgotten. But every time someone tapped him on the shoulder and called him 'America', every time Cuba's fist collided with his jaw, he was reminded with a greater sting that his brother was better and more desired than he was.
Sighing, Canada leaned back in his chair a little, closing his eyes until the room filed out so he had some time to think. Within 5 seconds, someone was tapping him on the shoulder and then trying to jostle him awake. Canada rolled his eyes behind their lids and slid up, turning around. "If you're looking for America, he's oevr there--"
"Woah, Matt, chill out." America stood before him, grinning widely, and Canada blushed faintly.
"W-What are you doing here?"
"Looking for you." America replied simply, as if he'd just been asked what he had for lunch. "We were... supposed to go home together today, right?"
Canada smiled, just slightly. "S-Sure. Just lemme get my things, eh?"
As he gathered up his papers and turned to see America leaning in the doorway with his movie-star complexion, he pondered how great it was to have someone that desired looking for him.
1. Pick a character or pairing you like for each drabble.
2. Turn on your music player and put it on random/shuffle.
3. Write a drabble related to each song that plays. You only have the time frame of the song to finish the drabble; you start when the song starts, and stop when it's over. No lingering afterwards!
4. Do ten of these, then post them!
5. ???
6. PROFIT!
Fandom: Hetalia
Pairing: America/Canada
1) Man! I Feel Like A Woman- Shania Twain
America found that usually, nothing bad came out of walking into Canada’s apartment unannounced. Usually, everything was nicely put together, the bear was asleep on the couch, and Canada was in his room or in the kitchen with a cup of tea and a nice book. Quiet and predictable; it was one of the things he loved about him, at least when he knew there was something he could depend on.
This was not the case. Oh god, it was not the case.
America did his best not to let his jaw drop as he stood in the doorway, eyes fixated to Canada’s ass that was being displayed proudly in a pair of Daisy Dukes, completed with some boots he was sure were stolen from his closet and a midriff shirt. He even had a cowboy hat that he knew was his, and oh god he was even flipping his hair god his soft, long, hair that he could wrap his fingers in
This was too much. Too much skin showing yet not enough and oh god Canada’s ass.
Canada’s ass.
It was about then that Canada finally turned and almost threw his stereo out the window. America snapped from his thoughts, and his bewildered look was replaced with a snicker.
“… Damn, Matt. Next time you stop dressing like an Eskimo, call me, will ya?”
2) What A Scene- Goo Goo Dolls
Flames. Bright, red and orange and some blinding color that was maybe something between yellow and white that flashed before his eyes so quickly he couldn’t register. Planks were falling around him, lighting patches of grass near his shoes, but he couldn’t bring himself to care until a familiar (and very expected) cough came from his right.
Canada turned his head sharply to see America stumble from the wreckage, hair scorched and face covered in soot. He didn’t get two steps before he was down on his knees, lungs protesting their lack of space to fill with oxygen loudly. America scrambled to get back up, but his hands slipped on the singed grass and ashes and he stayed where he was.
Not that he had much of a choice, seeing as there was now a boot firmly planted on one of his hands.
America did his best not to hiss and shot a glare up, as Canada gazed down at him wordlessly.
“Matt… Matt, what the hell!” Trying to wrench his hand away only resulted in a rip in the skin and blood beginning to pool into the wound. “What the fuck is all of this? This isn’t about you!”
Canada stood silently for a few seconds, and the only change in his expression was a flick of his eyebrow. “Not about me? That was my city you lit up, Alfred. That wasn’t Britian’s. If you wanted to go after him, you should’ve crossed the damn ocean yourself. Or are you too lazy for that?”
“Shut the fuck up!” Lunging forward, America grabbed onto Canada’s coat with his free hand in an attempt to drag him down into the dirt. Canada answered him by shoving him back to the floor and digging his heel farther into his hand.
“No. No, America, because I love seeing you this way. Cause all that trouble and the war for him, and what do you do? You turn around and try to be friends again, then lie your way into a war.” The words were practically spat, though neither of them wanted to relent. “You’re not a country. You’re nothing.”
Canada lifted his shoe only long enough to kick America straight in the chest, causing him to topple backwards. Walking over to him, he pressed his heel once more into America’s stomach, wiping the blood off on his burnt uniform.
“You’re not a country. And now, you’re not even my brother. Stay the hell off our land.”
3) Of All The Gin Joints In The World- Fall Out Boy
Sometimes during world meetings, Canada would spend his time getting lost in his head.
It wasn’t as if he was missing anything. He was almost entirely invisible as it was, so it didn’t matter if he wasn’t paying attention. His delegates took notes (because people could see them, somehow) and it wasn’t as if they got anything done at the things anyway.
This time, he was staring at America. America, as he talked to the chairman, as he yelled and the beads of sweat ran down his neck and he pulled at his collar in a second of nervous display. America, as he would open that big mouth of his and the words would spill out like water from a cliffside. America, who would slip his tie off over his head and unbutton his shirt and slam him into the backseat of his car and ride him until he screamed-
No. No, wait, this was a meeting and America’s mouth was being used for talking right now, not for… other things. Other things, like eating, or laughing, or wrapping his lips around Canada’s exposed cock-
Wait. Wait, wait, no. Meeting. Meeting. Right.
Canada sighed, crossing his legs a little bit to cover a growing erection. He needed to make a mental note not to pay so much attention to America when he was thinking of these things… but that made it no easier, because America did his best to make everyone pay attention to him.
Instead, Canada waited until America was the last one out of the room, grabbed his tie and pulled it off himself, but not before dragging them close for a crashing kiss. By the time Canada had gotten America’s pants off, he knew America had been reciting a prepared speech, because there was no way he’d already be that hard while talking about the gulf oil spill.
4) Want You Bad- The Offspring
There was a long list of things wrong with what was happening right at that very second.
One, Canada was in a broom closet with his pants around his ankles. Two, his brother was on his knees in front of him, lips wrapped around his exposed erection, sucking and licking like he’d been waiting to do this his whole life. Three, his knuckle was bleeding from where he’d been biting it. Four, the biting of his knuckle wasn’t at all helping the sounds coming from his mouth.
… To be fair, however, there was a long list of things that were very, very right with what was happening, as well.
One, Canada couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this good, to hell with where he was. Two, his brother was the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid eyes on and he’d been imaging this moment while he was in the shower for months, but his wet hand did nothing to compare to America’s tongue wrapping around his cock, licking down the underside and exploring around the tip. Three, his knuckle would heal. Four, America did a better job with encouragement.
Fuck.
“A-Al-Al, I still don’t know why- god right there -you’re doing this” Canada panted out, the rubber soles of his shoes skidding across the small floorspace as he tried to keep himself standing. “You-you could have anyone, and fuck, don’t stop--”
Canada could almost feel his brother smiling below him as he released his mouth from the task at hand.
“Because, Matthew…” Canada shuttered, his name sounded so wonderful when it rolled off his red lips-“I love seeing you like this. Almost as much as you love feeling it. And if you’re not going to initiate this, then I will.”
Without a second to spare, America’s mouth was back on Canada, and both of them emitted a wet noise as another sharp suck was given. Digging his fingers into America’s hair, Canada thrust forward, and made a mental note not to ask America any more questions.
5) You’ll Think Of Me- Keith Urban
It was strange, Matthew thought, waking up in a cold bed.
Soft sunlight bathed his room, in a way that would give off the allusion that it was warm. Stretching out his limbs, however, he frowned, because there was no body next to his.
It had been like this for the last few days. Ever since Alfred left. Ever since their stupid fight and his stupid ideas.
“Al, you’re being completely stupid! You can’t fight him, you just can’t!”
“Yes, I can! I can and I will and I’m going to! He doesn’t treat me like you, Matt… it’s different. I’m my own damn person and you should be too.”
Matthew sighed, stepping out of bed. He needed a cup of tea.
“Come with me, Matthew. We could take back the land that was ours. Remember, when we’d follow the buffalo through the plains?”
He waited silently for the water to warm.
“Al, you know it’s not like that anymore. It never will be.”
It was taking far too long. He was left with too much time to think.
“Fine. Stay with the bastard. I’m going to make something of myself… write me when you do the same.”
It was a full few minutes and one almost destroyed-pot to make him realize he didn’t want any tea that morning. It was another few minutes before he climbed back into bed and buried his face away from the sunlight of the morning. Britain would be in to get him later if it was important. Right now, he didn’t want to think about anything at all.
6) Hanging By A Moment- Lifehouse
Matthew didn’t realize he was actively pursuing his brother until he was standing on his doorstep, fidgeting and cracking his knuckles as he tried to find words to say to properly convey himself.
Just blurting out ‘I love you’ isn’t special enough he mused, gripping his fingers together. But it’s not like I arrived on a white horse. And he’s not a princess. Though he’d probably look good in a dress-
“Oh fuck.” Matthew muttered to himself, pressing his palm to his forehead as if it would help him think any. “This is completely ridiculous. He’s my brother, and I--”
“And you what?”
Matthew froze entirely when he realized the door was open and Alfred was standing right there, grinning his big movie-star grin right at Matthew. Right at him, with no one else that Matthew could imagine he was staring at because it couldn’t be him, it couldn’t, he wasn’t deserving of something special like that.
“I… uh, was just, going to say that you, er, are… y-you know, the hero, eh? And that’s why you’re here, to… uhm, uh… save... me.”
Matthew mentally banged his face into the nearest internal desk.
“Save you?” Alfred cocked an eyebrow, still smiling. “From what, Matt, the rays of sunshine?”
“N-No.” Matthew managed to sputter out, fingers clenched so tightly he could barely get blood flow to the tips before Alfred laid his on top and he completely lost touch. “From… from myself, because I have a prob--“
In just about no time, Alfred’s lips were pressed against his, and Matthew could barely register to push back before they were separate.
“There. Now I saved your heart… for me, right?” If it was even possible, Alfred’s smile grew wider. Matthew’s face went a bright shade of scarlet.
“… Y-You’re a sap, you know.”
“I know. But you’re cute, so it’s okay.”
7) Hey There Delilah- Plain White T's
It had been six months since he'd last seen Alfred.
"Hey, Matt! How's school going? Seriously, call me when you get this, okay? And never stop sending me more of those cookies from your caf!"
The letters kept coming in; weekly, almost like clockwork. Every Monday he'd get up and slug through his first class and come back to his dorm, and there would be another cross-country letter from Alfred. Despite their nightly talks, and the emails they exchanged, and the messages on Facebook and AIM, the letters would always come. Some would be as simple as "Hey, Matt! Blow anything up recently in chem? Tell me about it tonight!" while others would be 5-page monsters with heavy or stupid thoughts complete with illustrations. Alfred made it very clear he didn't need to write back; he said he liked writing letters, and who better to send them to then his cross-country boyfriend?
The curious part about his letters is that on top of each page, there would always be a musical score, and a single guitar tab accompanied by a number. At some point, Matthew had tried putting them together; the real problem was the numbers he had lined up to things like 22, 519, 631, and 924, and he couldn't make heads or tails of any of it. If he put them in order, they meant nothing. If he put them backwards, sideways (he even tried upside-down at some point), they didn't amount to anything other than a bunch of jumbled notes.
Still, every day, he tried to put them together. And every day, he didn't get his answer.
One week when Matthew dragged himself back into his room, there was a package on his bed, in lieu of the letter. Curiously opening it, he found a pile of papers; some blank, but most with more tabs, and a collection more of numbers. The final page had only a few lines:
'Line them up starting with 617 (6/17); our first date.
Bet you didn't know I played, huh?"
It wasn't two seconds before the box of letters were out on his lap and he was playing, smiling, and crying onto the strings, mouthing out the words to a beautiful tune. When he'd finally finished, he picked up the last paper, folded at the bottom.
"Next week, it'll be me on your bedspread."
8) I Won't Say (I'm In Love)- Disney (Hercules)
'I wonder if I can keep my face here forever.' Canada mused, peeking through his fingers just slightly to see if the scene before him had changed any. Through the gaps, he saw Hungary, Ukraine, Belarus, and Seychelles still standing before him, smiles as wide as they could stand (except for Belarus, which was probably a good thing), and Canada was left fearing to speak another word.
"... P-Please leave my living room."
"No!" Hungary yelled, running forward and grabbing Canada by the shoulders. "You need to talk to him! Right now! March up and just say--" She paused to let go of him and throw her arms out wide. "America! Take me in your muscular arms and make love to me on your carpet!"
Canada swore he couldn't go redder.
"N-No! It's-- it's not that simple!" He sputtered, plastering his face back into his hands. Within two or three seconds he was being shoved out of his own house by Seychelles.
"Just talk to him. Good luck!" The door was slammed and Canada sighed, beginning to slide his way down the sidewalk.
"... I'm never asking a girl for relationship advice again."
9) I Want It All- High School Musical 3 (DON'T YOU DARE JUDGE ME. element_43, this is all your fault.)
Canada knew his brother was completely insane, but he was almost certain this took the cake.
They were in the middle of a stage, and his brother was in a dress. And a curly blonde wig. And makeup.
And he was wearing a fedora and pink pants. And there was singing.
'How the hell do I get myself dragged into this...' Canada mused, looking over to America and trying not to drop over from the sheer embarrassment. America got into his movies- oh, did he love his movies- but whenever something new from Disney came out, Canada wanted to run for the hills.. because whenever there was a role like this, it happened. Always. Most the time, Canada was the girl... so at least this was sort of a plus, if only because America wanted to showboat.
The end of this that involved him dancing with catgirls made this no better. It was only progressively worse when the "practice" of the number ended, and Italy skipped onto the stage in a white dress and Germany followed in a basketball jersey. (How America had roped them into this, he had no damn idea). Sighing, he removed his hat as America bounced up to Italy and they started talking excitedly for a total of five seconds before he looked over at Canada again.
"Come on Matt, we have to run it again! This'll teach England I know what real theater is!"
10) Girl Next Door- Saving Jane
"Hey, America!" England called out, tapping the aforementioned person on the shoulder as they turned. "I need to go over this with-- oh, Canada. My apologies."
Canada let out a small sigh. "It's alright... I understand, Dad. He's over two seats down."
"Thank you, lad." England replied, turning quickly on his heel and sprinting towards America, who was busy chatting it up with China over building new factories. Canada allowed himself to slide into his seat, his arm falling to the side of the seat where it was caught by his bear's head. It was always like this... people approaching him to figure out he wasn't the person they were looking for. Everyone was always looking for America; his own parents (Dad and Papa, really), his own friends (Cuba to punch him, the Netherlands for stupid soccer-related anomalies, Ukraine for his tv shows), and even the people in his country flocked there for his beautiful land and Disney. (It was always Disney. Always.)
Somehow, he wondered how he didn't get used to it. After over a century of being treated the same way, he couldn't understand why he just couldn't get over being forgotten. But every time someone tapped him on the shoulder and called him 'America', every time Cuba's fist collided with his jaw, he was reminded with a greater sting that his brother was better and more desired than he was.
Sighing, Canada leaned back in his chair a little, closing his eyes until the room filed out so he had some time to think. Within 5 seconds, someone was tapping him on the shoulder and then trying to jostle him awake. Canada rolled his eyes behind their lids and slid up, turning around. "If you're looking for America, he's oevr there--"
"Woah, Matt, chill out." America stood before him, grinning widely, and Canada blushed faintly.
"W-What are you doing here?"
"Looking for you." America replied simply, as if he'd just been asked what he had for lunch. "We were... supposed to go home together today, right?"
Canada smiled, just slightly. "S-Sure. Just lemme get my things, eh?"
As he gathered up his papers and turned to see America leaning in the doorway with his movie-star complexion, he pondered how great it was to have someone that desired looking for him.