In an effort to make my journal easier to navigate (both for myself and for everyone else), I decided it was high time to make a sort of fanfiction index post. I might eventually do this for every fandom I've written fanfic for, but at the moment I'm by far the most active in Hetalia--and I think that's mostly what people are here to see--and my ( Read more... )

The results of my short fics meme on tumblr!  There will be Marvel--Captain America movieverse, DC--Tim and Kon silliness, Hetalia--US/UK fluff, and Latin Hetalia--Brazil/Argentina silly fluff--in this post.

grumpyhedgehog asked: Steve/Peggy -For some reason Peg is in the future with Steve. They have their date.

( Captain America. )

If you asked America, he was one tough cookie.  And not just because he was a superpower, or whatever, though that was pretty goddamn awesome all on its own.

He hadn’t always been tough, of course.  When he’d been little, he’d gotten lonely easily, been a little bit clingy and a helluva crybaby.  It still embarrassed him-or made him blush, ( Read more... )

England says America watches too much television (except that he calls it telly, of course).  Usually America thinks he’s just being dumb, his usual grouchy self, and hating on everything fun and technological because he wants to, or something.

But sometimes the stuff America sees on TV, even dumb stuff from late-night talk shows and Oprah ( Read more... )

Upon the Grass of My Garden

Japan was . . . nervous.  He was nervous all through dinner, and his heart jumped into his throat when Greece reached out and took his hand, folding his palm warmly over Japan’s knuckles.

It was a pleasant feeling, of course, Greece’s hand solid and gentle and surprisingly broad over Japan’s smaller fingers ( ( Read more... )

Which wasn’t Norway’s doing, that much was certain.  He spent the month of December minding his own business, just as he spent all the other months of the year, thank you very much.  But over the years he’d grown to expect Denmark’s either appearance or, later as the years passed, his telephone call on the first day of December to “remind” ( Read more... )

“Why can’t you just do what I’m asking you to?” Martin demanded.  His voice still sounded thick and wet and husky, and still wasn’t looking at him.  His shoulders were knotted up under Luciano’s hands.  “I-it’s just sex, right?  Just-”

“It’s not!” Luciano felt himself snap.  “It’s not, okay?”  Oh, crap.  Had he just said that out loud?

“ ( Read more... )

Martin was strange.

Luciano had known that for a long time.  He was pretty sure he’d known that ever since he’d first seen him, a dirty boy with big green eyes the color of the forests of Luciano’s home-he couldn’t remember it all that clearly, but he was sure Martin had said something weird, because he did remember that he’d gotten his ( Read more... )

The Sun Rose a Ribbon at a Time

England’s waist was sturdy and solid under America’s hand, but still felt slender, smallish, despite the compact, wiry muscles that lay over his ribs, under America’s fingers.  He was lying on his side, one arm beneath his head so that his soft, tousled hair tumbled over his forearm and his hand clenched into a loose ( Read more... )

 
( “I . . . I think that would be possible. I’ll get the tickets then, shall I?” )