This blog is random. You'd find movies, tv shows, anime, manga, hot people, cats, art, video games, supernatural, Hetalia, Donna Paulsen, there is no set stuff.Just hope you enjoy your stay!
There'll be slash, femslash, het, all is fairi'm not a great writer, but I practice, that's what matters.
Primary Blog//i’d do it for youuuuu, for youuu//
Francis raised an eyebrow as he looked upon the puppy dog eyes of the red eyed Prussia.
“Ludwig let you roam around the hotel without a leash?”
“Asshole, I am my own man and need no West.” Gilbert smirked, but they both knew better. After all, Ludwig was the one that fed Gilbert, so yes….the Prussian needed Ludwig but there was no need to voice that.
//shhh…prufra….. i feel like i don’t remember how to write…or maybe i shouldn’t write so late at night….but its the best time to write too! T_T
it is short but it has to do with WW2 but it has a happy ending, you know, years later, cause i like happy endings//
His cheek throbbed, chest heaved as he tried to regain his breath.
“Too easy, it is actually annoying how easy this was.”
France said nothing as he kept his eyes on the floor, unwilling to glance at the albino. The albino had been his best friend at some point, had been there for him….France still remembered the whispers, the hand holding. How easy it had been for the white haired nation to forget that but not for Francis. Francis never forgot those that held his heart.
//because it’s been a while since i’ve written some hetalia and I miss myself some PruFra……..and what is in character? lol….oh well…next time next time//
summary: Antonio is drunk, Francis is tired and mellow, and Gilbert is drunk and protective…..
…………………….
Francis rolled his eyes, but there was no hiding the amused smile that played on his lips. He watched as the brunette and albino stood up on the table, arms thrown over each others’ shoulders. They sure were a sight to see and soon they would be asked to leave.
He would have to drive them back home. Why wasn’t he joining them like he usually did? Honestly, he just wasn’t in the mood. He wouldn’t have come along, except that it was tradition and they were his best friends. They needed an adult there to supervise them, Francis snickered at that thought.
Francis stared at the flowers in his hands.
“They won’t bite you.”
He glanced back up at Antonio, who was smiling at him. Beaming. Green eyes shining brightly and Francis, well, he had a weakness for green eyes. Always had.
Francis sighed and stepped back inside, moving to the kitchen for a vase. Antonio leaned his elbows on the kitchen counter, watching as his friend busied with the flowers.
“You have not thanked me for the flores.” Antonio pointed out, watching as a frown settled upon Francis’ lips. There was a tension in the air and for a second, Antonio feared that this was it, that Francis would refuse to make this work.
The fear melted when Francis looked up at him, a tiny smile on his lips. “Thank you.”
They were not alright, not yet, but they would be. Just like they always were.
He frowned as he focused on opening his locker. It was Friday, thank God for that. After a couple of tries, he snarled, shaking the lock, hoping that it would magically lead to his locker opening.
“Here.”
He was pushed aside, his locker opening smoothly for the other. Francis scowled, not saying anything as he removed the books he needed for class that day.
“Are you not going to thank me Frog?” Arthur sneered, arms crossed as he glared at Francis.
“No, now if you excuse me, I have class.” Francis hissed, slamming his locker shut and storming off.
The whole week, the whole week, Arthur had been plaguing him. Always there, at his heels, doing things for him. It was aggravating.
Francis didn’t want to see him, hear him, think about him. Wanted to have nothing to do with him. Not now, never again.
Did he think Francis would forget the words that Arthur had spoken? The many insults? Did Arthur think so little of him? Did he think that Francis thought so little of himself? To go back to someone who did nothing but put him down?
Francis was tired, exhausted. He couldn’t be Arthur’s punching bag, not anymore.
At some point, Arthur had loved him and Francis had loved him in return. And in a way, they still loved each other, that was true. But it was not the same, it couldn’t be.
And now, no matter how much Arthur wanted to make things right, Francis could not go back to him.
It was too late for them.
He stopped at the door and turned to look at him for the last time. Blonde hair laid sprawled over a soft blue pillow, soft pink lips parted for breath. Arms were stretched over the side of the bed, that usually had someone else there, but this time, he stood instead by the doorway.
He looked around the room, taking in the many photographs that hang on the wall. He would miss the navy blue curtains, how they had fought over the color.
He looked over at the closet, with its opened doors. Most of his clothes remained there, for the other to do with them as he wished. Would they be cut up? ripped? burned?
Summary: he lies to others and to himself, but he figures that he doesn’t care because neither do they
Notes: some Frain love!!
Summary: Francis gets a surprise visit and a basket of tomatoes…..
Summary: he is not as young as he used to be, and he knows it
The rain fell gently upon the earth, seeping into it, softening into it until it can’t anymore, until the earth is drowning.
Summary: Germany takes over France, and Francis and Gilbert are caught in the crossfire
They are still young and very much stupid, and they know nothing about love. They only know that their hands feel right clasped together, that they can’t breath without the other and that they want nothing more than their freedom.
