EDIT: Ohhhhhh~ I has a toooomblah~ (my retarded way of saying Tumblr) for fics and beta and whatnots~ Drop by and say hi if you want to~
evahazuki (dot) tumblr (dot) com [[ Replace the '(dot)' with actual periods~ ]]
Okay! So...
The idea just...smacked me. And...I had to write.
This is my first ever series-multichapter (hopefully) fanfic! I'll update as frequent as classes and school would permit.
This will most likely be a multi-pairing fic. USUK (in no order. Yes, they will be switching!) will be the main pairing.
Rated M for language and future content! Boy x Boy. Don't like? Then please don't read. It's that simple!
DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Hetalia. Hime-papa owns it, in all of its wonderful historic glory. If I did own it...
Anywho. Enjoy! R&R not mandatory but it would be greatly appreciated!
Fame. Fortune. Publicity. They've got everything that anyone ever wants.
They've got the looks, the talents, the swag, the words. Any girl, or guy, would fall for them...
"Rising up the ladder of fame and fortune, multi-talent celebrities Alfred F. Jones and Arthur Kirkland make their way to the top of stardom!" the headlines read. Arthur simply sighed, and placed the magazine down gently. Multi-talent...right. He was simply following his passions, and companies were simply exploiting them for profits and devoted followers. That was all.
Standing up, the Briton went to pour himself a cup of tea. He hated this fame. Hated the fact that his talents were being publicized, hated receiving criticisms for it, hated being advertised like a little doll for the corporates to manipulate. He hated it all.
Yet, if he had not done this, he would not have felt the satisfaction of performing for a live audience. He would not have known what it was like to please large crowds, receiving their love and admiration as he stood on stage, looking out at them all.
Perhaps underneath his hate of publicity, he had a love for it. It had given him a purpose to perform, a purpose to try his best to outrank the others. It had given him a good reason to try and defeat his American opponent in terms of popularity...
Their first encounter had not gone well.
Arthur was standing in the studio with his manager, Feliks Lukasiewicz, who was giving the Briton a rundown of his schedule for the week.
"So, like, you are going to try to work with this band, since they, like, seem to fit your style..." Feliks started, pointing to the 'BTT' letters written in the little notebook. Arthur nodded; he knew the band, and he loved the music they play. The Polish man continued his run down the scheduled events.
"So, like, for these two days, you and the band are going to, like, get to know each other. After that, you'll have, like, a little talk show, and then-" Feliks was interrupted when Arthur was suddenly flying his way. The Polish manager caught his star, who stood up with mumbles of thanks as he dusted himself off, and they looked up to see a flash of blonde disappearing off someplace, before it came rushing back the other way moments later.
"Alfred! Like, what's your deal, man? What's the rush?" Feliks asked, hands on hip with a very annoyed pout. Said blonde stopped in the midst of his dash, and looked to the Polish manager, doughnut in mouth and a steaming cup of coffee in hand.
"Dude, no time to talk. Toris is, like, pissed that I came late today, and I am not gonna make him madder. It took all of my adorable-ness to beg him to get a doughnut break." Alfred whined, after removing the pastry from his mouth. The American then took notice of Arthur, who was still dusting himself off, before he caught Alfred's gaze. He was quite annoyed with Alfred, but tried not to show it on his face.
"Well, hello there. My name is Arthur Kirkland. A pleasure to-"
"Haha! Dude! Your eyebrows are so big!" Alfred declared, a goofy expression accompanying the comment.
A twitch was felt, but hostility was pulled back on its leash by courtesy. Clearing his throat, Arthur simply attempted to converse with the other again. "Anyway, as I was saying just now. It's a pleasure to m-"
"Dude! Is that a British accent? Haha! Totally awesome! Do you, like, have crooked yellow teeth and drink tea and say 'long live the Queen!', or 'jolly good show' and shit?" Alfred asked, placing horrific emphasis on the quotes with a terribly butchered cockney accent that somehow strayed and became Australian.
Sod the 'three strikes you're out' rule, this American just bastardized his country and all that it stands for. All while butchering the Queen's language, no less. Crossing his arms, he puffed his chest up with authority, as well as attempting to make himself more intimidating despite the slight height discrepancy. He glared right into those sky blue eyes, while his own emerald orbs were oozing with vitriol.
"Now, look here, you little prick. I'm sure that, by terms of age, I'm superior to you, so don't you dare address me with such a friendly tone. I am, by no means, your friend, nor do I exactly have any plans to be, with your mouth spewing the utmost terrible insults about my home country and our people. I'm not exactly sure what junk you've been putting into that puny little brain of yours, but I assure you that the nonsense you've been spouting just now has no sense of accuracy for the English people." he retorted, voice absolutely vitriolic to match his glare. It wasn't as though the phrases are never used, but they were only for certain occasions. As for the deformed teeth, that was only for a few individuals. It does not represent the English as a whole.
Of course, he could have continued to rant, but Feliks had to go and pull him back from the American. "Dude, Arthur! Like, calm down! Alfred's, like...a little air head. Leave him alone. C'mon, Arthur! We have to, like, get back to your schedule!" Feliks reasoned. Though he looked thin, Feliks had a considerable amount of strength. Out of respect for his manager, he backed down, but not without a warming.
"Watch it, American." he hissed, narrowing his eyes before returning to the discussion of his schedule with Feliks. Alfred stood there, dumbfounded as they walked away.
"The fuck is with him...Whatever. SHIT! I gotta get back to Toris!" Alfred cursed, before placing the doughnut into his mouth before running off.
Sorry for the short chapter! This was just an intro for the story! The next will be longer, I promise!
I also think I need a beta...if anyone'd like to help, please PM me! :3 ((I may be a beta, but I don't think I can beta for myself...I'm derp, I know...))
...The use of British slang, its culture, and the likes...if I offend anyone, please do tell me! DX I really do not mean to offend ANYONE in ANY way! Honest! DX I respect people's cultures, so if you know of it and would like to help me, oh goodness please do!