[Fan Fic] I’ve Been Doing this Longer than You Have! (Preview)
I've been working on this, and procrastinating unfortunately, however, I really want to post this as the March's theme Diaper Duty, despite the blaringly obvious fact that March has long since passed. I just need some ideas on how to progress passed what I have written already, maybe even tweaks to what is written now - fixes and whatnot-constructive criticism, maybe, please.
Title: I’ve Been Doing this Longer than You Have!
Author: feline_faeire
Rating: G - PG, maybe PG-13 for curses
Characters: America/France, Massachusetts, Louisiana, Vermont, Kentucky, Tennessee, Ohio, mentions of other State-tans
Summary: Louisiana, “most likely to take after his papa”.
Warnings: Maybe some curses (“France bring France” doesn’t really apply to this story)
September 1812
The baby on the simple bed gurgled, deep blue eyes matched by a tuff of dark sunshine blond strands, yet Alfred could already tell that his child’s skin tone would be lighter than his - matching that of his father’s. A simple dress with a colored sash was adorned by the babe - the bedroom taking the infant’s attention, small cooing making itself heard every now and then. America smiled down at his child - one hand at the ready while the mirror twin rubbed butterfly-light strokes to the cherubic cheeks, those deep blue eyes of the babe looked at him, a smile erupting sweetly with minute dimples.
The blond nation leaned forward, placing a kiss to the babe’s forehead - little Louisiana christened Amédéé, nicknamed Amé by family. Alfred lightly tickled Louisiana, eliciting pearls of giggles that quickly filled the room America was temporarily staying in as he visited one of his older children. His smile strained a little as he felt pinpricks of aches and pains throughout his body - the hand he had at the ready if the infant rolled, remained while the other went behind him, knuckles rubbing his lower back. This war had just started, back in June of this year; and yet, he was already getting aches and pains - he felt a bit old, just a tad.
A soft knock resonated off the thin walls; a fellow blond marginally opened the door, a girl held in his arms, her head on his shoulder with her arms around his neck, “Father?”
Alfred replaced his hand back on the bed with the other, looking over his shoulder to the green eyes - those green eyes looked just like his eyes, even if the shade was a tad off - hands moving to pick up the babe in front of him on the bed, cradling him to his chest. The blonde with the flyaway hair shifted his entire body, legs that had been previously crossed on the bed were now handing off the side and his back was no longer hunched over, “What is it, Nathaniel?”
The blonde young man shuffled in, adjusting the adolescent girl in his grip, “France is here.”
Alfred smiled at his son, lightly groaning as he stood, Louisiana shifted once again so that his head rested on his parent’s shoulder. He kept his hand on the back of Amé’s head, other hand on the babe’s lower back. Walking passed Massachusetts, thanking him as he did, America made his way to the living room in his son’s house - the blond son following behind after closing the bedroom door after her exited it.
The wavy-haired nation was sipping tea that had been prepared for him, a single rose that he brought resting peacefully on the end table. Francis sat with his legs crossed - one leg rested sideways on the other’s knee - his deep blue eyes were closed, he was… at rest here, away from Europe for the time being. One eye cracked open when the floorboards made a slight noise, the tea cup set down rather gracefully; Francis stood upon setting his sight upon Alfred.
In the background, Massachusetts set Vermont down with her three other siblings - Kentucky, Tennessee, and Ohio - the children interacting among themselves as the oldest child present retreated to the kitchen to brew more tea for his father’s guest with some coffee for his father.
“L’Amérique, bonjour. It has been awhile, a year, non?” Francis greeted warmly, deep sapphire gaze on the infant in the Anglophone’s hands - a year was long enough to allow someone such as Alfred to have another child, and by God he loved every single one of them-held so near and dear to him. The French nation, smiled coyly at the younger nation, “And might I inquire who votre tout-petie is?”
The sunflower blond smiled, looking to the babe in his arms, shifting Amédéé to show France the cooing infant - looking in his general direction with oh so familiar deep blue eyes that were unmistakable to the Frenchman. Francis looked at the colored sash around the infant, meeting the American sky blue eyes of Arthur’s now independent ‘little brother,’ “Un garçon?”
Alfred tumbled the French over in his mind, trying to make sense of the short question while thinking of others, he believed that he understood what the blond visiting was asking in his native language, “I’ve been… fine, though I don’t like going to war with Matt. This is Amédéé, or Amé - the territory of Louisiana.”
Francis’ eyes widened a bit, eyebrows rising as he regarded the child, “The father..?”
The smile on Alfred’s lips widened, Francis - although knowing all too well the aches and pains of war - couldn’t help but envy the carefree spirit of the American. He resumed inspecting the child, those eyes he knew too well, tuff of hair upon the crown of his head matched the deep golden locks gracing the younger nation’s own head, skin a supple crème - light that will no doubt stay that way as he would age. The wavy-haired blond raised his eyes to the American sky blue of America, waiting for the answer.
“He’s yours, France!”
Francis blinked, the knowledge not surprising him all that much, yet warmth swelled in his chest as his smile softened. Alfred closed the gap between the two, gently handing off the infant to the father, who took his seat back where he had been previously waiting for America when Massachusetts had escorted him from the port back to his house. Letting Louisiana take interest in his fingers, France looked over at Alfred, “How is Massachusetts related to you exactly?”
“Hm?” Alfred looked up from watching the four older toddlers while the third to join the union of the original thirteen was brewing tea and making coffee. He blinked as he absentmindedly patted Kentucky on the head, fingers through the short strands of blond hair, “Oh, I grew up with him, but because I aged more quickly than him, he calls me ‘father,’ though it alternates with ‘older brother.’ The original thirteen aren’t my kids and they seem to be the only ones to my knowledge.”
Francis nodded; Louisiana gazing at him passed his fingers, yet still gripping them in chubby fists, eyes alight with curiosity at the person holding him. The francophone nation gazed down at his son, Alfred watched the two of them, glancing at his other children and relative; keeping an eye on them while still entertaining Francis, since he had been the one to invite the nation to his relative’s home, “You should stay the night. It’d be a shame to send you home so soon after getting here.”
Title: I’ve Been Doing this Longer than You Have!
Author: feline_faeire
Rating: G - PG, maybe PG-13 for curses
Characters: America/France, Massachusetts, Louisiana, Vermont, Kentucky, Tennessee, Ohio, mentions of other State-tans
Summary: Louisiana, “most likely to take after his papa”.
Warnings: Maybe some curses (“France bring France” doesn’t really apply to this story)
September 1812
The baby on the simple bed gurgled, deep blue eyes matched by a tuff of dark sunshine blond strands, yet Alfred could already tell that his child’s skin tone would be lighter than his - matching that of his father’s. A simple dress with a colored sash was adorned by the babe - the bedroom taking the infant’s attention, small cooing making itself heard every now and then. America smiled down at his child - one hand at the ready while the mirror twin rubbed butterfly-light strokes to the cherubic cheeks, those deep blue eyes of the babe looked at him, a smile erupting sweetly with minute dimples.
The blond nation leaned forward, placing a kiss to the babe’s forehead - little Louisiana christened Amédéé, nicknamed Amé by family. Alfred lightly tickled Louisiana, eliciting pearls of giggles that quickly filled the room America was temporarily staying in as he visited one of his older children. His smile strained a little as he felt pinpricks of aches and pains throughout his body - the hand he had at the ready if the infant rolled, remained while the other went behind him, knuckles rubbing his lower back. This war had just started, back in June of this year; and yet, he was already getting aches and pains - he felt a bit old, just a tad.
A soft knock resonated off the thin walls; a fellow blond marginally opened the door, a girl held in his arms, her head on his shoulder with her arms around his neck, “Father?”
Alfred replaced his hand back on the bed with the other, looking over his shoulder to the green eyes - those green eyes looked just like his eyes, even if the shade was a tad off - hands moving to pick up the babe in front of him on the bed, cradling him to his chest. The blonde with the flyaway hair shifted his entire body, legs that had been previously crossed on the bed were now handing off the side and his back was no longer hunched over, “What is it, Nathaniel?”
The blonde young man shuffled in, adjusting the adolescent girl in his grip, “France is here.”
Alfred smiled at his son, lightly groaning as he stood, Louisiana shifted once again so that his head rested on his parent’s shoulder. He kept his hand on the back of Amé’s head, other hand on the babe’s lower back. Walking passed Massachusetts, thanking him as he did, America made his way to the living room in his son’s house - the blond son following behind after closing the bedroom door after her exited it.
The wavy-haired nation was sipping tea that had been prepared for him, a single rose that he brought resting peacefully on the end table. Francis sat with his legs crossed - one leg rested sideways on the other’s knee - his deep blue eyes were closed, he was… at rest here, away from Europe for the time being. One eye cracked open when the floorboards made a slight noise, the tea cup set down rather gracefully; Francis stood upon setting his sight upon Alfred.
In the background, Massachusetts set Vermont down with her three other siblings - Kentucky, Tennessee, and Ohio - the children interacting among themselves as the oldest child present retreated to the kitchen to brew more tea for his father’s guest with some coffee for his father.
“L’Amérique, bonjour. It has been awhile, a year, non?” Francis greeted warmly, deep sapphire gaze on the infant in the Anglophone’s hands - a year was long enough to allow someone such as Alfred to have another child, and by God he loved every single one of them-held so near and dear to him. The French nation, smiled coyly at the younger nation, “And might I inquire who votre tout-petie is?”
The sunflower blond smiled, looking to the babe in his arms, shifting Amédéé to show France the cooing infant - looking in his general direction with oh so familiar deep blue eyes that were unmistakable to the Frenchman. Francis looked at the colored sash around the infant, meeting the American sky blue eyes of Arthur’s now independent ‘little brother,’ “Un garçon?”
Alfred tumbled the French over in his mind, trying to make sense of the short question while thinking of others, he believed that he understood what the blond visiting was asking in his native language, “I’ve been… fine, though I don’t like going to war with Matt. This is Amédéé, or Amé - the territory of Louisiana.”
Francis’ eyes widened a bit, eyebrows rising as he regarded the child, “The father..?”
The smile on Alfred’s lips widened, Francis - although knowing all too well the aches and pains of war - couldn’t help but envy the carefree spirit of the American. He resumed inspecting the child, those eyes he knew too well, tuff of hair upon the crown of his head matched the deep golden locks gracing the younger nation’s own head, skin a supple crème - light that will no doubt stay that way as he would age. The wavy-haired blond raised his eyes to the American sky blue of America, waiting for the answer.
“He’s yours, France!”
Francis blinked, the knowledge not surprising him all that much, yet warmth swelled in his chest as his smile softened. Alfred closed the gap between the two, gently handing off the infant to the father, who took his seat back where he had been previously waiting for America when Massachusetts had escorted him from the port back to his house. Letting Louisiana take interest in his fingers, France looked over at Alfred, “How is Massachusetts related to you exactly?”
“Hm?” Alfred looked up from watching the four older toddlers while the third to join the union of the original thirteen was brewing tea and making coffee. He blinked as he absentmindedly patted Kentucky on the head, fingers through the short strands of blond hair, “Oh, I grew up with him, but because I aged more quickly than him, he calls me ‘father,’ though it alternates with ‘older brother.’ The original thirteen aren’t my kids and they seem to be the only ones to my knowledge.”
Francis nodded; Louisiana gazing at him passed his fingers, yet still gripping them in chubby fists, eyes alight with curiosity at the person holding him. The francophone nation gazed down at his son, Alfred watched the two of them, glancing at his other children and relative; keeping an eye on them while still entertaining Francis, since he had been the one to invite the nation to his relative’s home, “You should stay the night. It’d be a shame to send you home so soon after getting here.”