#but like… kirkland water

[eqgsocials]

i’m the same way about certain waters

[fushitoru]

gojo getting jealous about reader having a crush on spiderman is so funny to me. he's like a dog barking at its own reflection

cw: spiderman gojo content below cut, blurb is suggestive, for context reader and him are at a frat party on halloweekend and reader was jumped in an ally where spiderman saved her before this, might not make sense bc there's like 7k words before this but my yapper self couldn't keep this to myself, might be changed or not make the final cut, NOT EDITED

“Something like that,” you mumble, not wanting to give him the entire story. Twisting the cap off the bottle,  you take a sip, hoping he’ll just leave you alone, but instead, he leans against the counter, looking entirely too comfortable.

“So,” he says, tilting his head, “I heard through the grapevine that you had a run-in with that Spider-Man guy this week.”

That makes you pause mid-gulp of water, instead of coughing a bit as you try to swallow it down without basically drowning in Kirkland Signature Natural Spring Water. You’ve only told, like three people outside of Kento and Iori, so you’re confused why he knows this information, but you continue on regardless. The memory of Spider-Man swinging in to save you flashes through your mind, and you can’t help but smile softly to yourself. “It was amazing. He’s—he’s incredible, honestly. The way he just swooped in and handled everything? So fast, so precise. He’s like a real-life superhero.”

You’re basically gushing to him, and you realize that a bit too late as you look at his face to gauge his reaction. He’s looking at you with a newfound interest, albeit a bit too conflicted to fully tease you about it when he says, “Sounds like you’re smitten.”

“Maybe I am,” you admit, laughing. “I mean, who wouldn’t be? He’s brave, he’s kind, and he doesn’t even stick around for the credit. It’s like he’s this selfless, untouchable figure.” You also kind of want to give him a sloppy toppy for saving you like that, but you spare Gojo the details. 

“Untouchable, huh?” Gojo echoes, his tone turning a bit wry and…jealous? “Sounds like someone’s got a crush.”

You roll your eyes, but it’s half-hearted, and you think Gojo can tell with the way you’re heating up and bashfully looking at the ground. “Don’t be ridiculous.”

“I’m just saying,” he continues, leaning closer, “if that’s your type, you might want to raise your standards. Superheroes are overrated.”

You raise an eyebrow. “And what, you’re not?”

He grins, that infuriatingly charming grin that makes you want to simultaneously punch him and laugh. “I’m better. I’m real.” He then puts his hands on the counter behind you, caging you between them until your knees are lightly brushing, and suddenly his face is so close that small little breaths from his nose are fanning across your face. “I can prove that to you.”

And you hate your body for being so…reactive and enthusiastic to his smooth-talking, face flushing. Despite that, you try to put on an air of nonchalance. “God, you’re insufferable.”

“Really?” he teases. His hand leaves the marble counter to hover at your hip, his hand subconsciously tracing your curves an inch above your skin. The motion, firm but tentative as if he’s waiting for you to give him the green light, makes you shiver as you subconsciously move your hips to finally have the skin-to-skin contact. And your skin sings in happiness as he draws circles into the area right below your skirt, even momentarily dipping just below, to which you realize that he’s treading very close to your panties, since your skirt’s really short.

"Yea," you basically sigh, hating yourself for how breathy your voice sounds.

It seems to have an effect on Gojo because his eyes darken as he murmurs, "Wastin' your time on that Spiderman guy."

Maybe it's the fact that it's late (you've been getting sub four hours of sleep this past week) or the lights in this humid frat bring a heady air, but all academic-rivalry-overshadowed-woman-in-stem history between you and Gojo disappears in your brain as you rake your eyes up and down his torso and then look at him through your lashes. "Who should I spend my time on instead?"

then they get cockblocked but

[hometoursandotherstuff]

This house. I kinda love it. The wood and stone 1970 home in Kirkland, IL deserves someone who will keep it original and take care of it. 2bds, 3ba, 2,500 sq ft, $495k. Look at this architectural masterpiece.

The roof from inside.

This flooring is made from large log rounds and river stones.

The owners have already moved out, so it's very empty and dark on the main floor. It needs a new family.

Down here is a large carpeted rec room with a wall-size stone fireplace.

Oh, how nice, they left some bar stools. (You know how I love when things convey.) What is that on the side of the bar- is that a game, or part of the bar?

In this little room that has doors to the garden, they left a bench that looks like it came off of a covered wagon, plus some wall decor.

There is also a lovely shower room. With guest towels.

The main living area is on the 2nd level. Beautiful demi-lune hall table and mirror.

And, a nice faux tree.

It's a very large open space. There is plenty of room for dining furniture. I hope they didn't just stage it, so all this stuff will be moved out. Nooooo! Look, there's even a little pumpkin on the table.

Another beautiful big fireplace.

And, look at the kitchen. What thick marble counters.

This is nice.

Quite a huge living space.

Very large primary bedroom is off the main living area.

It has a lovely stone en-suite.

Most of the rooms have access to the deck around the house. This is the 2nd bd.

It's quite large, too.

And, a lovely en-suite.

From the deck, you can see the beautiful property, which includes a barn.

Look at how large the barn is. The barn can be used for horses or a workshop, plus the empty 2nd fl. has lots of potential. The little cabin has a fireplace and can be made into a guest house.

Looks like a place for a hoe-down, to me. It's huge.

The cabin's in rough shape, but it has electricity and a water source.

Lovely 5 acre lot.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/35444-Irene-Rd-Kirkland-IL-60146/61689101_zpid/

[yawujin]

I was wondering if I could request how the Allies + Canada would react to meeting an immortal? (Not a personification - so could be vampire, witch, mutant (kinda like wolverine he's over 200 tears old), or any other immortal being). -🪽

request | how the allies would react to an immortal

type | react , gender non specific reader , sad-ish(?) , blood mention

america/alfred f. jones ♡

he's ecstatic

takes you to meet tony ofc

asks you like, a thousand questions on what it's been living for so many years

he can relate to you in so many ways, being a country himself

although he still feels so young (he's only 245 years old after all)

england/arthur kirkland ♡

arthur became instantly intrigued by you, seeing as you were a witch

he knew a few things about magic too, so he thought you two could relate

however, the magic you knew blew whatever he's learned out of the water

forgetting his pride, he goes to you for help whenever he messes up a spell

he truly enjoys your presence and is so grateful that he was able to meet you

france/francis bonnefoy ♡

francis couldn't believe his eyes

he thought he knew you from before, a long, long time ago

with every question he asked you, the more curious he became

even if you were not the person he thought you were

he's still interested in your life, and your endless experiences

he's happy to share his with you, too

canada/matthieu williams ♡

shocked that you came up to him first

even more shocked that you thought he stood out from the crowd

he tries to get over it quickly so he can listen to what you have to say

when you tell mattie you're an immortal, a million questions come flooding to the forefront of his mind

he's excited, sure, but he's also a diplomat so he takes it step by step

he's just happy you entrusted him with this secret of yours

russia/ivan braginsky ♡

when you reveal to ivan that your upbringing was just as hard as his

he finds it within himself to sympathize with you, and comfort you

you do the same, after a while realizing that it might be better to focus on the good things in your lives

he reminisces with you about all the good times he has had in all the years he's been russia

and you let him talk, for you know that it's been a while since he's had anyone that wants to listen to him remember the happy things

china/yao wang ♡

there are very few things that scare yao, so you being a vampire does not faze him

he's seen a lot in his lifetime (he's old)

he'd rather you feast on blood away from the expensive silks he has in his home

scolds you for staying up late (no, he does not care that you're a vampire and that's just what you do)

he always has fun trying to guess which century you are from (you'll never tell him, even if guesses correctly)

˚✧ ₊˚ nordics headcanons

[koolkat9]

Hot Day

Rating: M (but only because of one suggestive conversation at the end)

Pairing: GerEng

Word Count: 596

Author's Note: Based a little on how sunny England was when I was on exchange (like I went in expecting a lot more rain than I got). And how hot that sun could be.

Read on AO3

Whoever started the idea that England was always cool and rainy had to be one of the biggest liars in history. For the whole week of Ludwig’s visit, the sun hung high, beating mercilessly down on the tiny island.

Ludwig and Arthur were sitting in Arthur’s backyard, feet in a kiddie pool that the Kirkland household kept for days like this. Even in a sunhat and a layer of sunscreen, Arthur’s skin was singed red. His face, painted with a tired scowl. Surprising with hiw how cold-blooded Arthur was, the heat was even getting to him.

“Why can’t it just be night already,” Arthur bemoaned. “Or at least cloudy. The only time the bloody sun is out, it’s trying to melt me.”

Ludwig smiled wearily, melded to his lawn chair. “Maybe we could take a dip in the creek?”

“That is a brilliant idea, love.”

Arthur leaped from his chair, invigorated by a newfound energy. Ludwig however was a bit slower, sweat sticking him to the chair. But as he got to his feet, he realized he hadn’t brought a swimsuit this visit.

“Scheiße,” Ludwig muttered. “I don’t have anything to wear.

Instead of disappointment. Arthur’s eyes shone with mischief. He grabbed Ludwig’s hands and tugged him to the back of the garden where the creek flowed through.

“We could always skinny dip,” Arthur suggested with a smirk. “After all, it’s so hot that fewer clothes are probably for the best “

Ludwig’s face burned until it felt like he was going to burst.

“What’s with that look, darling?” Arthur cooed. “It’s not like I’d be seeing anything I haven’t seen before.”

“True but–”

“Shhhh,” Arthur hushed, pressing a finger to Ludwig’s lips. “No buts. And there is no one here for miles so it’s not like anyone will catch us or anything.”

He continued to drag Ludwig to the back. Eventually, a small smile started to spread across Ludwig’s face. Good, Arthur thought.

Once they reached the creek, the two stripped down. Ludwig, forever organized, folded their clothes neatly on the edge before Arthur tugged him into the water.

Ludwig stumbled a bit once he landed, but Arthur was there to steady him and help him stand.

The water was perfect. Just the right amount of coolness for a summer’s day like today. Ludwig crouched down so up to his shoulders were submerged.

Arthur dunked himself under the water before springing back up and wrapping his arms around Ludwig’s neck.

“Better?” Ludwig asked with a soft smile.

Arthur pecked him on the lips. “Very much.”

For a moment they just held each other, floating in the water together. That was until Arthur’s hands began to wander down to Ludwig’s chest, his abs then creeping their way back to his butt. He pressed closer, lips a hair’s breadth away from Ludwig’s

Ludwig leaned back, a dark blush blanketing his cheeks. “Arthur…” he warned.

“What?” Arthur asked, feigning innocence. “It’s not like anyone would catch us.”

“We don’t have lube.”

Arthur rolled his eyes dramatically. “Come on. I wasn’t going to go that far."

“Yet we always end up going that far,” Ludwig countered, eyes narrowing.

Arthur opened, and closed his mouth a few times as he tried to think of his retort. “I-I could always do a bit of magic.

“No.”

Arthur pouted slightly, moving his hands bag up to Ludwig’s neck. “Fine…” he sighed, pressing his forehead against Ludwig’s.

For the rest of the afternoon, they just waded and floated in the creek, the heat forgotten for a moment with the cool water against their skin.

[sunnylolli]

Lighthouse au

A rough draft of the beginning of the au, though I'm still adding onto it!!

The rough idea is: Arthur is a lighthouse keeper, appointed to the job as a political favor to him in 1880, to thank him for his service in the Royal Navy. As he enlisted very young with the Marines, he doesn't have family to bring with him besides his brothers, who are largely uninterested and leaves him as the sole lightkeeper of an island (That I made up, but it's supposed to be off the coast of Dartmouth, Southern Britain) named Isle of St. peter.

Francis, a French Marine Captain, washes ashore in the bay, just beyond Arthur's house. Arthur discovers him on his way to the lighthouse early in the morning and brings him home for lack of anything else to do. Francis remembers little to nothing about before he woke up on St. peter's, he's wearing a marine uniform that is 30 years outdated and he's drawn out to the sea, wading out waist-deep sporadically, without cause. And when asked, he can't conjure up any explanation, other than he feels like he's forgotten something that he needs to find. The two of them grow close, becoming each other's confidants and warming up to each other over time.

But as time goes on, Francis begins to act strangely and Arthur begins to notice him zoning out whenever he sees the sea. Arthur begins to have dreams that he cannot remember in the morning, he begins to hear whispers whenever he's too close to the coast. The only place on the entire island that feels safe becomes the lighthouse, and as things escalate, he holes himself up in it more and more. Francis keeps wading out into the sea and Arthur needs to come drag him out more and more, until he eventually decides not to. In a morbid, insane curiosity to see what will happen when Francis inevitably cannot touch the bottom anymore.

He sees him drown. Then sees him back on the shore the next morning, alive and breathing. Arthur begins to try following him after that and it's a slippery slope, to follow the only person you've ever loved into the pitch black, icy cold waters of the sea, when you can't swim.

Arthur Kirkland sits on a chair with his overalls soaked to the knee and his woolen sweater damp enough to make even the warmth of the fireplace seem mute.

Wind roars and lures outside. The sun is obscured in spurts and rises to around mid-morning.

A stranger lies in his bed. Damp and pathetic, Arthur watches him cautiously from a respectable distance.

The stranger is wearing an old navy uniform.

A French marine uniform.

And he’s only breathing, in and out between shivers now, because Arthur found him when he did.

Floating just a bit out from the shore on his way to the light. He’d floated right at the surface. Back facing the sky, face down to the clams.

Arthur clasps his hands together.

The Frenchman keeps breathing.

He has a neatly groomed face, Arthur notes, something you wouldn’t be able to say about his hair.

It’s splayed around his head like seaweed.

Some of it stuck to his face, some sticks to Arthur’s pillow. Hair that long, it doesn’t seem like a skipper’s apparel.

He might be of higher ranking, then. Certainly comfortable enough to break dress code.

“Typical.” Arthur mutters, his voice is swallowed by the house as it always is and he reaches up to remove his hat. Rubbing his neck tiredly, he runs through the morning in his head and tries to slot it in with his duties.

He should alert the coastal guards.

Send out a telegraph, informing of a possible capsized french vessel somewhere around the mouth of the bay.

But the man’s uniform looks too old, somehow. And Arthur gets the feeling that even if he did alert authorities and got a team out to search, they wouldn’t find any ship.

And they wouldn’t find any other crew.

He sits there watching for a while longer, frowning. Fumbling with his hat and biting the inside of his cheek till it bleeds; The taste of iron gets him going and he stands.

He needs to re-oil the wheels and rewind the clockwork.

Maybe after, when he’s measured and noted down his supply of fuel, he’ll figure out where the hell this frog came from.

Francis Bonnefoy awakes to the sound of gulls.

They screech mercilessly outside and with a groan, he lifts a heavy arm, a subtle crack at his shoulder bringing him to full wakefulness.

He opens his eyes to a sunstreaked roof.

Wooden-beams cut across it, carved with initials he can barely see.

To his right is a nightstand, to his left, a window. Curtained with lace and cotton, allowing the barest of sun to peek through.

The air smells faintly like varnish and seasalt. The bed he lies in creaks beneath him, and he fights himself upright, supporting his arms against his knees.

He curses quietly to himself, bringing his hands up to rub delicately down his face.

He feels nauseous and faint.

Did he have too much to drink?

He doesn’t usually go overboard with his liquor, but maybe he holds his Gin worse than he thought.

But, he thinks, he doesn’t remember drinking. Matter of fact, he doesn’t remember a whole lot.

The room he sits in is wholly unfamiliar to him, once he feels good enough to glance around.

The sidetable is sparsely populated, with a single bottle of unbranded liquor, snuff and some sort of a journal accompanied by a pencil.

The floors are old and worn, a crate sits near the far wall, nicely decorated with an embroidered cloth lying on top.

An empty brandy bottle, serving now as a candleholder, sits overrun with wax on top of it. The glass glistening a soft brown in the light from the windows.

The room doesn’t leave much space for much else, besides an overridden desk and a dresser. There are a few pictures on the walls; Francis spies a group photograph, paintings of boats and ships. A half-finished project of a model ship sits on the windowsill.

The wood awkward and angled, the masts missing its sails.

It’s strange.

Francis feels strange.

He doesn’t remember docking.

He especially doesn’t remember entering a town, let alone a house.

He turns to look through the window and pulls the curtains aside to peek outside.

The view that greets him is of a green hilltop overlooking the sea. He follows the curve of it, going up and up until he spots a lighthouse.

A path forged from the garden gate a few feet away all the way up to the beacon.

His stomach sinks.

They were at open sea.

Nowhere near the shore.

He looks down, patting at his uniform.

It’s stiff and damp to the touch. Sand in the folds of the clothing, algae and seaweed sitting trapped around the buttons.

“Oh.” He mutters, swallowing against a dull panic clawing at his chest.

“Oh, Sainte Marie.”

[siren-serenity]

the ways i say 'i love you' 🌈

characters: arthur kirkland (england), gn!reader warnings: fluff, romance a/n: - arthur kirkland asdfghjklasdfghjsfgoandv *cue siren fainting* - he is my babygirl fr - i think this just turned out into a 'how to brew tea' 101 session lmao - feedback is appreciated!

reading a book together

the raindrops platter against the window, creating a racket of noise but it was ignored inside the warm household. a duo sat side by side on the old couch, books in hand and their eyes fixated on the tale the words weaved together beautifully. it was like they were transported into a whole different dimension where dragons and magicians roamed free and the limit is limitless. on the small nightstand, a lit candle flickered. the sweet aroma of a forest wafted in the air, further adding to the illusion and you breathed it in. a smile grew on your lips. "good book, love?" arthur murmured, placing a bookmark on his page before giving you his full attention. his emerald eyes read your sypnosis quickly as you nodded. "it's well-written and the plot is unique," you explained. you stood up, cracking your stiff joints and groaning at the relief you felt. "want to lean on me instead?" arthur moved aside the pillow and you smiled gently. you sat back down again, this time leaning your head on his shoulders and your arm wrapped around his. this way, you could smell arthur's scent alongside the forest-scented candle; his cologne was different this time. it was more him, the scent of roses and the seaside somehow suited him. together, you both cracked your books open and continued reading in peace, ignoring the ferocious winds and the roaring thunder beyond the little bubble of peace.

tea time together

there is a soft alluring scent coming from the kitchen. it disrupts your work zone and invites you to investigate the source of it. as you exit your office and turn left, you spy arthur's golden hair in the midst of the grey monotones of the kitchen and smile. "sweetheart?" you call out, watching as arthur spins around with teabags of all shades in his arms. you chuckle and walk forth, pressing a small, featherlight kiss on his cheek before wrapping an arm around his waist. "what are you doing?" "just making tea, love," he returns the kiss to your cheek; his own cheeks were the shade of bright red as he quickly turns back to decide. "i just can't decide what to brew today..." you hum, using your other arm to hug him around the waist and bury your face in the crook of your collarbone. "teach me about tea?" "well, there's a lot to know about tea," arthur began. his emerald eyes sparkled as he rambled and that was what you loved most about him. how passionate he could get when he is talking about the things he loves most. "the most important thing to note is every tea has specific optimum temperatures to be soaked in. for example," arthur held up a packet of green tea. you noticed how it matched his eyes and quickly shook your head to clear your mind of thoughts. arthur gave you a raised eyebrow before continuing. "green tea doesn't actually need to be boiled at water's boiling temperature. somewhere around 70 to 80 celsius will do the trick. and only soak it for 2 to 3 minutes. any more and the tea will be too infused with green tea." you leaned in, taking a small inhale of the green tea before smiling. "smells nice, love. can we try this?" arthur nodded while grinning. his hands automatically began to grab whatever he needed as he spoke to you. "i had these imported thanks to kiku! the green tea from his place is simply divine; i don't know how i survived decades- i mean so long without it!"

sunsets

behind arthur's little cottage, there was a cliff overlooking the entirity of the ocean. the grandness of the view always never failed to take your breath away, just like right now. you sat down on the picnic blanket and simply appreciated the view of the majestic sapphire waves and the glorious golden sunset above you. "darling?" arthur's frantic voice interrupted you but you turned around to wave. he let out a huge sigh before scrambling down the stone stepways and briskly made his way to you. "i was looking all over for you! you made me so worried!" his hair was frazzled and messy, unlike his normally gelled back appearance. gold strands fell onto his face and a sweaty sheen showed proof of his arduous running around to find you. you pat the space next to you, beckoning him to join you and he relented. arthur leaned into your embrace, nuzzling his face into the crook of your collarbone and your hand went up to gently brush his golden hair. his eyelids fluttered at the feeling and a light blush dusted his face. "this feels nice," he murmured lowly and you hummed in agreement. together, you both faced the sunset, where the skyline met the horizon of the endless sea in a beautiful kiss.

[ego-meliorem-esse]

ELABORATE

If you insisttttt <3<3<3<3<3<3

i assume you are asking about the clinical breakdown by the Admiral Lord

Alfred is born in 1631, the settling of the colonies is still uncertain. Having said that, it's def more stable than in the late 1500. It took a long time for his son to be born. Lots of tries and failures. I do hc that Alfred and other countries are BORN. In the human way, to humans, to countries, it does not matter. They are spawned in a very human bloody and painful way. Alfred was born when Boston was established. He does have a mother ( i like to mix the old 2014 hcs that there was a country in that region specifically before the english but having done any kind of research will show that so many different cultures and languages and frankly ways of life existed in the now united states and then "13 colonies" that its straight up and down right unethical to have a single "Native America" representing those vast cultures. Now forgive my balkan-ness for keeping this part short but getting into his part of my hcs is not in my interest or my forte. I just like to humanise these beings, especially Alfred as much as possible) and that mother gave birth to him. Colonisation and settlement in the 1500s and 1600s is cruel, abhorrent and unspeakable to those living on these lands prior to the arrival of the english and for a while dutch. As many nations opposing the empires do, she dies in silence and solitude. Alfred is left in his father's care.

Boston is stable when Alfred first dies. The babe has weak lungs and Arthur doesn't understand. Alfred dies again a year later from the same illness. This time Arthur is aware of an outbreak of illness near the bay. The boy will strengthen and come back to him. He does but only for 2 months before he is ill again. There were difficulties in finding potable water in that part of the colony. Arthur is perplexed, this isn't the sort of thing nations fall ill for and die over. He starts to worry severely, keeping the boy physically close by and under care at all times. Just to make sure the boy, the personification, is in perfect health at all times. Maybe this way, Arthur thinks, his baby will stay with him. It seems that he was right because Alfred lives healthily for more than 2 years. He is fed, he is warm, he is happy. Alfred doesn't wake up one morning. He is still in his crib. He doesn't cry for attention. This time Arthur cries audibly yet carefully, alone in his study. Exiles, brutality and deaths of settlers seem to be the cause. His baby is in London and the order is set for the child not to set a small and wobbly foot in the colonies. His flame is extinguished not even a week later. Arthur is numb at this point. He cannot take it anymore. His guts and throat are in a state of constant clenching. He is vomiting and in pain. England is thriving, Arthur is in a state of misery.

The final straw, final death comes 4 months later with no warning and no apparent causes. Arthur is hosting his brother Rhys in the drawing room. Arthur has had enough. The nurse brings in his boy, Arthur takes his baby into his shaking arms, without a sound. His brother is aware of his nephews struggles with keeping alive. He tries to talk to Arthur, he tries to get him to say anything. Arthur does eventually speak, his voice getting more and more hoarse. Rhys takes his nephew slowly. Arthurs last straw breaks. He is on the floor, he is mourning, sobbing, sorrowing, yelling. Rhys and no one has ever seen Arthur Kirkland like this. He is weeping. Arthur finally broke down.

Part 2 maybe when I pick myself back up from the floor?

[explode-this]

So the pharmacy that has my adhd meds prescription only has enough to fill half. I can opt to get that half filled but if I do, I forfeit the rest of my medication. What. The actual. Fuckity fuck. Y’all. “B-b-b-but adhd meds are addictive and can be misused—“ shut the fuck up right now. They don’t WORK the same way in my little adhd-addled brain as they do for people who misuse them. I am not letting them out of my sight bc I need them to function even halfway decently. I am not addicted but I am *dependent* on them the way I am also dependent on meds that help manage my diabetes. We are also dependent on oxygen and water. Needing something to have a better quality of life is nobody else’s business and the legislative restrictions on necessary medication because some chucklefucks like to use it to party like it’s Kirkland Signature cocaine makes me seeeeethe

[historia-vitae-magistras]

Character Profile - America

Character Name: USA, Murica, Alfred, Alfie-come-lately, Al. 1585-1775 - Alfred F Kirkland. 1775-???? - Alfred F Jones.

Age: 16 as of 1775, 18 in 1789, 21 mid 19th century. 25 by WW2 and still generally in that range.

Height: 6'0/183cm in 1775, 6'2/189cm after 1850ish.

Physical Description: This child was born a tungsten cube and grew into an adamantium adult. He's tall, broad-shouldered and strong. USDA Grade-A corn-fed BEEF right here. He's muscle as fuck with a good inch of fat on him every which way. Really putting the dough in doughboy. He's athletic, with the shoulders of a linebacker but is shockingly graceful and easy in his body. Arthur loved him enough that the confidence and good nature he exuded in his posture and looks are 100% genuine 80% of the time. He was an absolute cherub of a baby and grew into the kind of good looking that would really be described as more beautiful than handsome if he wasn't as broad as the baptist definition of sin.

Eye colour: Pacific, deep water navy, NASA mission blue. Dark, dark blue. Almost black, if not in good light.

Hair colour/style: Amber waves of grain. Two or three shades darker than Matt's and less red than Matt's or Jack's. Imagine all the wheatfields of America at the reaping, find the average tone, and that's Alfred's hair colour. Rich, harvest grain gold. It has a good amount of wave to it that shows even with its being short. He's generally worn it short and to one side to show off the wave he can get. Had some wicked curtain bangs in the 90s tho.

Other distinguishing physical traits: He has never worn a beard in his life, but it tends to come in redder than his hair. Aunt Bridgie's genes really start flexing there. He's got a mostly faded scar over his heart from Matt's pyromaniac-ass burning down DC. And probably more I'll have to add here later.

Personal Appearance/Style: Alfred loves looking good. The first thing Francis taught him was how good he could look and he's been following it ever since. He prefers blue suits, but he'll wear warm greys and black. He knows he looks like a ten-course meal in just grey joggers and a NASA t-shirt against those golden guns of his though. Also, the uniforms he picks are the ones that look good on him. Does he look like shit in one shade of olive drab? He's swapping it out. He showed up in Japan on the Black Ships in the most flattering cut of the Navy officer's uniform there was and it looked fucking good on him, all that dark blue with gold accents. He likes brown leather over black because the warmer colour looks better with his golden boy looks, and he knows it.

Verbal Style: He uses a neutral American or a less broad New England accent when overseas but slides in and out of any possible American accent at home. He got shot at during the Civil War because even in blue the whole goddamn time, he would slide into his original Virginia accent and have to duck rifle fire. Fucker probably sounded slightly transatlantic for a while in the 20th century. He doesn't purposefully code-switch from culture to culture; it's just automatic. He speaks several languages fluently and without an accent if he wants to, but he uses a southern accent speaking Japanese or a Kennedy Accent when speaking German. He knows it's not a jelly doughnut, Deutschland, promise! The more Arthur annoys him, the thicker his American accent gets.

Level of Education: Arthur educated him at home, got him, tutors on literally anything that Alfred fancied, apprenticed him out to any trade that interested him; printing and gunsmithing were the big ones, and then sent him to Harvard when he got bored with that. He graduated from West Point just before the Civil War and personally shot a few of his classmates who sided with the south :) but turned more to engineering, commerce and math after the war. He didn't reappear in the east until the 1880s, so he did a lot of mail-order books and self-study during that period. He also got another degree from The University of the Pacific in that period out west.

Occupation: The government is always trying to rope him into shit, but the boy's heart is in the stars, and something the government did has to be a big deal before he gives a flying fuck. His main squeeze is NASA, but he occasionally shows up to DC to steamroll some favours out of congress, especially when he has the urge to fly something experimental or a particular issue has been bothering him.

Past Occupations: Soldier, sailor, airman, astronaut, gunsmith, printing press operator, mechanical engineer, heiress, physicist, chemist, biologist, anthropologist, archaeologist, mechanic, railroad engineer, cowboy, blacksmith, cook, construction worker, gamekeeper, welder, a gold miner. The boy has some restlessness, okay? He's had many jobs.

Skills, Abilities or Talents: Alfred, even amongst nations, is quite freaky. Super strength, damage resistance, resurrection power that's faster than almost anyone. He can fly, drive, handle or otherwise operate any vehicle without training. He knows how they all work. He's also highly gifted in math and physics. He has been known to make California tremble a wee bit when he's genuinely well and fucking pissed. He'll get his ass lost on a boat or on foot, but in the air, he's possibly the best navigator on the face of the earth. But literally, he can do almost anything he sets his mind to. It's unnatural.

Admirable Personality Traits: Optimistic, idealistic, brilliant, generous, confident, fair.

Negative Personality Traits: Self-righteousness, recklessness, thoughtlessness, arrogance,

Sense of Humor: Silly, slapstick, observational.

Physical/Mental illness or affliction: He's sometimes just shy of narcissistic but usually pulls himself off the brim. Arthur's sons might be eligible for an ADHD diagnosis, but I did that on accident before I got diagnosed rifp. He's not the anxious or depressed type. He has had periods of pretty acute PTSD.

Hobbies/Interests: Computers and tech, filmmaking, archaeology, camping, hiking, adventure sports, surfing, paleontology, working out, protein foot products, star gazing, listening to audiobooks and podcasts. But, like, literally everything interests this kid.

Favourite Foods: BBQ; he can't pick a favourite style tho. Burgers, cheese fries, pizza, strangely flavoured novelty chips. Apple pie with ice cream and blueberry maple ice cream is his and Matt's favourite. Paw-paws are a very rare treat. Huckleberry-flavoured anything will make him absolutely grin.

Most important personal item: He expected to inherit Arthur's pocket watch like other sons did their fathers in the 18th century, so in 1976, when Arthur did give him the pocket watch and a very expensive wristwatch because the pocket watches had gone out of style, he has worn it everywhere since. To Mars and the Mojave, he'll wear that thing everywhere and get it repaired if it takes any damage.

Person/friend close to character: Matt's his best friend. He and Maria are also close but belligerent. Arthur is also in his top 5. Kiku, Ludwig, Tolys, Romano, Mai, etc, are all on his very close friend list. Of older nations, he and Brighid are very close, if complex.

Brief family history: He was born in 1585 or so in Virginia. Arthur said, "finders keepers," From that moment, he was the man's firstborn child. In his childhood, he mainly had Arthur and Rhys, and Alasdair and Brighid, somewhat less until later. He's never met his grandmother or her ghost. He was an only child for about 20-30 years and spent a lot of his childhood functionally an only child with Matt in Francois' care. The two youngest 'siblings' he's got he's not quite sure what to do with them. The relationship isn't precisely sibling-like, but he's pretty fond of them, and he has some trauma from being ditched in New England during the British Civil War, so he saved their asses in 1941.

Most painful experiences in the character’s past: I don't think anything can top the Civil War because he represented the Union, i.e. the United States. It took him years and years to recover, especially because he was living a rough out west lot of the post-war. He got consumption while personally marching to the sea to burn the fucking shit out of the Confederacy. :)

Their Song: Babylon by Barnes Courtney.

[folightening]

Force a divine blessing...

Hetalia - Engport "Calypso & Davy Jones" AU that isn't actually based off anything but vibes Warning for slight gore? It isn't graphic or much, warning just in case Arthur learns that when you force a blessing out of divinity, you get more than you were asking for.

Waterfalls that rose rather than fell surrounded the hidden palace. Plants the likes of which he had never seen on the surface covered the ground around the shining pathway, gently swaying as if underwater. Where all the light was coming from so far under both ground and sea, Arthur didn't know.

"Stay here and await my return."

The business he had in that palace would be best taken care of without his crew.

Arthur walked across the shining courtyard. The magic in the air tugged at his hair, swirled around his legs, and seeped into him. It was a friendly magic he didn't doubt could turn volatile in a heartbeat like the waters it came from.

Arthur pushed open the doors and strode into the glistening hall. Something was in the hall with him. Arthur could feel it's presence the moment he stepped in. Where it was hiding he wasn't certain. Or maybe it wasn't hiding at all; he was in it's domain, deep under the sea. A creature such as this could very well be in everything around him.

"I am Captain Arthur Kirkland. I come seeking a blessing."

Legend stated if you found the palace, the Lord of the Sea would grant you a blessing. Or you could force one out of it with the orb safely tucked in his pocket.

"I don't grant blessings to mortals so easily."

Of course not.

"I risked everything to find this place. I am not leaving until you give me the power I need to stop Carriedo."

"I care not for the petty squabbles between mortals."

That did not deter him.

"Carriedo dares call himself the Master of the Seas." With that so-called invincible armada. "It would be in your best interests as well."

"So that you might call yourself master of my waters instead?" A loud laugh echoed around. "You mortals are all the same. Power hungry, desperate to claim and control everything you touch. Yet you know pathetically little. I hold no concern over any human claiming to command me."

Arthur knew he had no argument. For all he boasted, Carriedo could never truly be master of the seas. This creature was the seas and had no master.

"What do you ask for payment?"

"Are you truly so desperate?"

"Determined."

There was silence and Arthur worried the creature had deemed their conversation finished. Then a roaring vortex of water and sea foam formed in front of him. Arthur stood his ground and waited. This was a test. Creatures such as this enjoyed testing mortals. He couldn't play his hand too soon.

Unexpectedly when the vortex died a man stood in its place. He was beautiful, but when these creatures took a human form it usually was.

Arthur held his ground as the man strode up to him, steeling himself for whatever test was about to be inflicted on him. Cool fingers gripped his chin and he met the man's gaze. Wild magic danced around and through him, Arthur saw the wild untamable sea in the man's eyes, and was nearly overcome with urge to tame him. Those eyes narrowed, continuing to stare into Arthur. Finally he released him with a sneer.

"I refuse to grant you anything. Leave."

The hard way then. Arthur sighed and reached into his pocket. Ancient magic was not something to be trifled with. He truly had hoped it wouldn't come to it but alas, some things needed doing.

"So be it."

Arthur dropped the orb, loudly proclaiming the creature's name - it's true name, the ancient address unknown to most - over the shattering crystal.

"You will grant me what I desire," Arthur commanded.

The scream was inhuman; the constant form shifting dizzying. Arthur kept his focus on the magic before him. Any lapse in focus could ruin everything. Translucent, rippling chains burst from the creature and pierced into Arthur. For a brief, glorious moment he felt tremendous power surge in him. The chains fell heavy into place before dissolving into more water on the floor.

In front of him the creature was slumped on the floor, gasping for breath. The human form almost dragged sympathy from Arthur, but he shoved it away.

"You refused to negotiate. But I now have what I came for."

The creature snarled and within moments Arthur was surrounded by water. Suspended, trapped, and not drowning. But no matter how he tried he couldn't make a sound.

"You come into my home... You dare..." He hissed, eyes glowing an unsettling green as he stood. "Fine then, have my power."

Arthur swallowed and tried to move, mounting terror and dread drowning him how the water should have been. He was angry; Arthur should have found something for protection. He should have anticipated this outcome. The orb's magic prevented the creature from killing him but that didn't mean it couldn't hurt him.

"I'll take something in return," he purred.

His fingers stroked Arthur's cheek: sharp nails leaving a tingling path over his jaw, down the side of his throat, and to his chest. Arthur's heart beat loud in his ears, his eyes widening.

"As you have bound my soul with yours, I claim what makes you human. My power and freedom for your humanity."

Arthur stared dumbfounded at the bloody beating heart in the creature's hand. Was that- His...

"You have no need of this. A fitting trade for one such as yourself."

Arthur dropped to the floor with a gasp. Intense pain he'd never felt before hit him all at once and he could do no more than stare at the ceiling. He could feel his chest fixing itself: bones painfully arranging themselves back to their proper location, muscle and skin stretching to return to normal.

Even so the pain overwhelmed him and as he lost consciousness he heard the creature address him again:

"Enjoy your command of the sea, Master."

[shini--chan]

Hey! Just want to start this off by saying that your blog is amazing! So a couple of years ago I had this medical emergency that caused a cist on my ovary to rupture, the symptoms were similar to appendicitis with high fever, dry heaving and rapid dehydration. How would America, England, Germany and Spain react to their s/o falling so ill, that they would need immediate medical attention? Especially if they let it get to a point where s/o passes out due to the stress and pain.

Sheesh, I hope you had a good recovery and are doing well at the moment. Also – Thank you ;P

Yandere Hetalia – Plaster on a gunshot wound

America

Alfred would be very lassie-faire towards the whole situation. If questioned, then he would simply responded that he was seen his sh!t and that what would be happening at the moment is tame in comparison to stuff that he already expertised. He would provide first-aid himself – determined to have as few people involved as possible because he would want to be seen as your hero. Other people preforming heroism would only scratch at his ego.

However it would quickly turn out that it would be best not to trust Alfred in medical emergencies, especially when it concerns somebody that he is so heavily attached to. He would start fumbling, snapping at everybody around him, and it would take a lot of talking to make him back-off and let the professionals do their job.

There would be the danger that he would inflict permanent damage, or even jeopardise your life – that is how much he would want to be the one to save you. That is how much he would balk at the idea of letting anybody close to you.

England

Like his son, he would be prideful and want to do all the work himself. Unlike Alfred, Arthur would be pragmatic enough to let professional people step in. In Arthur’s case, he wouldn’t do things by halves – either he would take full responsibility for your care, or he would contact an acquaintance to tend to you.

You were breathing shallowly, skin light green. Arthur checked you in the rear mirror every couple of seconds, his brow furrowing in frustration. If anything, this whole situation annoyed him more than causing him to panic. In hindsight, he had been too callous in his punishment of you. He shouldn’t have deprived you of water for so long. Yet he also blamed you – this all could have been avoided if you hadn’t made him so irate by spitting into his tea.

Sighing, he fished his phone out of the side compartment and scrolled through his contact list. Staring at his phone while driving was mighty irresponsible, however, if anybody ever chided him on that, he would just snap back that he had been driving cars since they were invented, and if anybody knew how to drive while distracted, it would be him.

Finally finding the contact he need, he called, pressing the phone against his ear. While striving to be up-to-date with cutting edge technology, he still couldn’t really befriend the speaker system. Besides, he didn’t want to wake you up.

“Hello Mr Kirkland, what can I do for you?”

“Alberton! Now I would normally love to do some chit-chat with you before going to the meat of the issue but this is an emergency. I have a very dehydrated youngster on the backseat, passed out even.”

“Alright, I’ll prepare a room.”

“That’s a lad. I’ll be there in a jiffy.”

The person, he would take you too would be a medical professional in Arthur’s trust, discreet so that the treatment wouldn't show up in any records, not the sort to ask any questions or to help you.

Germany

In your case, it would most likely due to an illness and accident, since Ludwig wouldn’t lay a hand on you. If anything, it would take a lot to provoke his wrath. That is of course, if we are talking about post-1945 Ludwig. The pre-1945 Ludwig would be a different story where we won’t go into further detail in this post.

Would be take care of you to the best of his ability before the incident, making sure you eat healthy and get a lot of exercise. If he wouldn’t have to take you to a hospital, then he would just call a house doctor and have you treated at his house. If that wouldn’t be the case, then he would drive you to a private hospital, and pay a handsome sum to have you treated and to ensure their silence.

This could be your chance to escape, and should the hospital staff not buy into his tall tales, they could even help you escape. Though Ludwig would be there as well, and if allowed, he would request to sleep in the same room as you.

Spain

His first reaction would be to have ten seconds of panic and then go to business. He would ring up one of his friends to bring a van with medical equipment and have you treated at his place. If the medical stuff wouldn’t fit into the living space, then you would be shoved into the van. Being immortal, he would know that his view of humans is skewed and that he would just end up doing something wrong if he would take the matter in his own hands.

During your recovery he would dote on you and also take the opportunity to illustrate this as a reason that you need him. Antonio would tell you stories of people that died alone and were eaten by their pets. And of people that died alone and were only discovered by the stench the emitted. What would you have done if it weren’t for him?

If the both of you weren’t living in the city already, then he would move to the city. That way, if something were to occur again, he would be close to help. Of course, that is only if you were to behave.

[derinthescarletpescatarian]

Costco has its kirkland brand of canned chicken in water, idk if that counts as tinned chicken? but i love that shit you can put it in anything to add some tasty poultry protein in my soups, salads, sandwiches, pottages, etc. (you could add corn if you're feeling fancy)

I do like adding corn to things when I'm feeling fancy...

[yawujin]

woaa could i order some uhhhh russia, turkey, america, and england with a gn!reader who's a lightweight w alcohol and gets real sappy, more affectionate n touchy ykwim? thank youuu :3

ofc !! 🍻 as someone who has a very low alcohol tolerance, this will be a breeze for me to write lmao. thanks for the req!!

request | russia , turkey , america & england x lightweight! reader

type | head canon format , cute , mentions of drinking alcohol , gender neutral reader

russia/ivan braginsky ♡

he's always amused when he is accompanied by someone who gets tipsy after one drink, and drunk after two

he couldn't imagine what it's like to be like that

he isn't one to judge, but he likes to observe

if they ever need someone to hold their cup for any reason, russia would be the first to volunteer

they'll give him a big hug to thank him for being such a gentleman, leaving him wondering if their affections mean anything more than just them being extra friendly due to the alcohol 💭

turkey/sadık adnan ♡

i feel like turkey is a happy drunk, after he's had so many drinks he'll find everything funny

he is the extrovert you would want to bring to a party, club or bar

he is extremely affectionate to them back, pulling them into his arms for a tight hug

he'll begin to praise them and say things such as "i'm glad you're here!!!"

america/alfred f. jones ♡

much like turkey, america finds himself laughing a lot after he's had a few drinks

their ability to get intoxicated after only 2-3 drinks makes him feel better about himself seeing as he usually has the lowest alcohol tolerance in whatever group he's with

he'll poke fun at them as they lean unto him, feeling their own body become more feverish little by little.

"dude, you're like so drunk and we just started drinking!" he pats their head, completely charmed by them

england/arthur kirkland ♡

takes him a BIT to get to complete drunkenness

so, in the meantime he takes care of them

ie: making sure they don't trip, holding their drink if they need him to do so, maybe ordering them a water instead of another pint lol

but as soon as he starts getting drunk...

he starts to become just as sappy as they are

he throws compliments like he never has before, not hesitating to touch them back

help??? why did that sound so 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂

[headingalaxys-spicy]

I was wondering if I could request how the Allies would react to meeting an immortal? (Not a personification - so could be vampire, witch, mutant (kinda like wolverine he's over 200 tears old), or any other immortal being). -🪽

This one is more of a silly shit post since we all need more of that nowadays.

Hope I can at least made you giggle 🤭

America 🇺🇸

Mutant: He’ll be super chill about it as long as we’re talking about non-aggressive / passive ones like Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles. If it’s ones trying to take over the two then saving the day for him is a must then they’ll be meeting the business end of his pistol.

Vampire: He’s no Arthur Kirkland so he won’t believe in them if there is no evidence. But, if he does figure it out then he will probably ask for the vampires help to scare the shit out of England on Halloween. He’s got to do better than using Ivan dressed as a clown this time.

Witch: If we’re talking pretty one’s like Glinda the good witch he’ll be enchanted and distracted. An ugly one like the Wicked witch of the west he will run the fuck away. (If the witch is pretty and evil yeah dude is going to need to call England for help.)

Windigo: “Fuck this shit I’m out” starts playing and all you can hear is Alfred’s scream hitting against the trees.

Alfred: “Don’t mind me Imma just grab my stuff -” He reaches for his trusted rifle so he could try and shoot at it

*Blood curdling shreik comes from the creature

“OH FUCK AHHHHHH”

Canada 🇨🇦

*For whatever the reason supernatural immortal spirits seem to like him and enjoy his company

Mutant: Matthew will be kind to it even if it’s grotesque. It’s just what’s in his gentle nature.

Vampire: Would be spellbound by ones who have a thing for drinking sweet blood.

Witch: By accident there was a coven of witches discussing and and one of the younger ones whos not as good with controlling her magic enchants him. They would likely try to keep him because: He’s super cute and he has a talking teddy bear.

Windigo: *Backs away slowly with his hands in the air* before he Usain Bolts himself away from the vicinity.

China 🇨🇳

Mutant: Said thing better be cute & then Yao can tolerate it. If not it’s getting fucking WHACKED with the WOK.

Vampire: He’ll be curious & have a plethora of questions for it. He will be hospitable and treat it to dinner so he can probe it for information.

Witch: Since Yao tends to be superstitious he’ll revere the witch and probably give her an offering of sorts. Usually this tends to be frest fruits and hot meals with the freshest ingredients that match the season.

Windigo: He’s wise enough not to linger anywhere near when he senses it’s energy. Yao knows there are somethings you simply don’t fuck with.

England 🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿

Mutant: “Disgusting get this thing away from my sight.” Arthur will pull out his wand and do away with it.

Vampire: Since he’s in tune with the supernatural meeting another one of these will be a normal day for him talking to one of his enchanted friends.

Witch: Same as a vampire but he might exchange spells, potions, and magical advice.

Windigo: He went on a trip with Alfred to study and gain more information about them. Arthur ends up getting merked by the thing thanks to Alfred needing to preform “Fuck this Shit I’m Out” live.

France 🇫🇷

Mutant: “Oh hon hon ….. How…cute?” Francis will be sort of polite but will want to avoid it.

Vampire: Thanks they’re hot like Twilight Fans when the movies we’re coming out. “Bute me daddy~ hon hon hon hon hon hon hon hon hon.~”

Vampire: *Grabs the holy water to scare away France*

“You’re so cute I can see you’d liked to be drenched tonight. Hon Hon HON 💕💕”

*vampire runs for its life*

Witch: He definitely tried to flirt too hard with her and Francis will end up with either losing some of his georgeous hair or he’ll end up with a decent chunck of his memory missing and be abandoned in the middle of a forest.

Windigo: “MON DIEU! WHAT IN ZE ‘ELL IS THAT?!?!”

*Runs away with a with a white flag in hand*

Russia 🇷🇺

Mutant: Ivan will either try to make friends with it or experiment on it depending on it’s level of aggression.

Vampire: Some live in fear of him others are his aquantances of his that chill with him on Halloween sometimes. Or on lonely cold nights where people are about he likes to cause some chaos.

Witch: Ivan does have relationships with ancient witches that hide within the Taiga (Boreal Forests) as well as others across his nation. They’re kinda like mentors for whenever he’s hit heavy emotional lows.

Windigo: *Steals Alfreds Boom Box as soon as it senses Ivan coming

*Oh hell naw to the naw naw naw naw* plays

Pfffffffff hahahahahha lawd I’m on my bullshit .

[mr-nauseam]

So some time ago @rosesandalfazemas ask me for a list of fanfic recommendations... You probably have already read most of them or even know more works because this is a small world and I'm outdated but well!

ENGPORT FICS -AO3 EDITION

> Lovesick by Ludwiggle73

Summary: Fresh out of rehab, Arthur Kirkland is ready to get his life back to normal—or, at least, as normal as a rockstar’s life can be. He’s supposed to be sober now . . . but everyone knows love can be a drug. He might have a new lease on life, but the withdrawal of a lovesick heart could very well be the end of him.

...

This is a classic, you know I will never shut up about this one but is punk ENGPORT, what we needed in this damn world and a great character study about England!

> O grito das gaivotas (The cry of seagulls) by Saso_615

Summary: João took out two bottles of rum and his precious instrument from the boat they had settled on the beach. Arthur was already close to the greener parts of the island ; palm trees, different kinds of plants, tall grass and bird chants drew the prince's attention. Though, he would be stopped by his captain who wanted to stay closer to the water.

"I'll teach you how to dance like the women in my country. Venha. (Come)" He placed a hand behind Arthur's back to lead him to a perfect spot.

"I will not dance like a woman!" The brit protested, though it only made the portuguese laugh.

"Come on, even for me?"

...

I just read the title in Portuguese and I UNDERSTOOD NOW WHAT IT SAYS AND WHY IT IS WRITTEN LIKE THAT. Eu sou agora muito poderoso.

What can I say? It's fucking amazing. PLEASE read the warnings also if you can't stand a bastardized characterization of Spain I think it would be better to don't read this one but If you can. Go ahead!!

> Of Pointed Teeth and Tongue by Allheroeswearhats

Summary: Arthur Kirkland, against his best wishes and reason, is in love with the memory of someone he met on a beach many years ago.

...

*I pound the table*

THIS IS PURE ART. YOU HAVE NO IDEA JUST READ IT!!

> Sailing away by chocoCate

Summary: There is a secret place in the depths of the castle of Picas, a magical room accessed through an invisible passageway.

Only a few people have been lucky enough to observe the room, drawn by an arcane magic that dates back to the time of creation.

Inside, the hands of a clock guide the destinies of the chosen, consecrating them as the new rulers of Picas.

Only Kings, Queens and Jacks have the honor of observing its ancestral mechanisms, of perceiving the strange sensation of the magic that caresses their skin and envelops them completely, of listening to the ticking of the hands that write their future.

No one escapes the destiny marked by the impassive hands, according to ancient legends.

But someone tries; well, this is the story of that attempt.

...

IS IN ITALIAN... I translate that description BUT HEAR ME OUT!! JUST USE THE TRANSLATOR BECAUSE THIS ONE IS A CARDVERSE ENGPORT + PIRARES. WHAT A WONDERFUL CREATION. THIS ONE REALLY WORTH ALL THAT WORK.

> For i want what i cannot have by primaveris

Summary: Not at all, Arthur, Afonso wants to say, you're so much stronger and braver than I could ever dream to be.

...

I read this a long time ago but I remember even now, how, like a ghost these words hunt me for we so touching. A cute and tortured fan work.

> Watch me cry all my tears by our beloved: Kai_Maciel

Summary: An aging, sickly sailor leaves his empty house to venture into the sea once more. This time, he won't be coming back.

...

The title is a foreshadow of how you will end after read this one but I swear IT WILL WORTH IT!!

> The Dark World is Not Far from Us by le_serpent_qui_nous_devore

Summary: Summer, 1943. War warms the Mediterranean. Portugal simmers in his own resentment.

...

VERY HISTORIC. NOT EXACTLY A ENGPORT ENGPORT ONE IN A EXPLICIT WAY BUT IS A MASTERPIECE

> Alliances by NothinToSeeHere

(best username 🤭)

Summary: Arthur stumbles across his nemesis, Francis and brother, Allistor together in a compromising position, and lifelong friend Miguel (Portugal) is by his side in an instant. Much angst, and lots of fluff for the rarepair lovers!

...

Dude YOU DONT KNOW. BUT THIS ONE MAKE ME FALL INTO ENGPORT. I read this one on tumblr and gOD WHAT A EXPERIENCE!! Very emotional 💗👌

> Murphy's Law by extrastellar

Summary: Arthur is single and salty, and he can't even be left in peace at a dumb frat party, but at least the bloke who interrupted his sulking is actually pretty hot. So it's just Arthur's bad luck that everything that can go wrong, does go wrong and he ends up without a name, or a number, and a mission.

...

One of my comfort fics 💗

> Jorge's Day by Shachaai

Summary: A small group of Nations attend a garden party on the feast day of a patron saint some of them share. It's obviously not a birthday party for one of them. It obviously is.

...

Shachaai IS ONE OF THESE NAMES. Like of course! if you became a engport fan you will ending reading one of their stories because they will make all engport content existing for years but that one is my favorite

> A Guiding Star by sailorgreywolf

Summary: Portugal and England's once strong and enduring relationship is filled with rough edges and complications that must be resolved if they are to return to their love.

They have a heart-to-heart talk.

...

This one dont have a summary but I make one. I hope it mades justice to it.

> A faery song by our godness: cakewizard

Summary: What an odd nation his friend was, Portugal thought and took his offered hand. He was more careful during the rest of the trail, watching for upturned roots and low hanging branches, England’s tight grip on his hand leading the way.

...

People will say they carry the burden of making the world's best engport and they will be right 🙄