Sneak Peeks of My fanfics!
A/N This is a compilation of "sneak peeks" of the kiribans and contest prizes people have won on my deviantart account. There will also be a Part 2 which will include sneak peeks of the next chapters for my two longer, multi-chapter fics, "Sunshine and Rain" and "October Fool's Day" as well as some future fanfics that I plan to do once I finish my two longer, multi-chapter fics (which means there might actually be a Part 3 as well).
Note: This does not mean that I'm finished with anything...no, sorry, things are still in their rough-rough forms or have been finished and exist only in hand-written form (it's just a matter of typing up the rough drafts and getting them edited/proofed properly). Most are 1-5 pages long, and I'm doing my best to write an acceptable preview of them all . . . promise.
You see, one of my New Year's resolutions was to write more (how else can I expect to be able to write 25 pages per week for my MFA if I'm out of practice?), so I'm doing my best to write something for at least 1 hour every day. While I was typing up some of these earlier this month, I got to thinking, "I'll bet it would be a great treat for my readers/watcher to know that I'm writing again.", so I decided to make it my Valentine's gift. As luck/fate would have it, the moment I decided that, it seemed like a thousand things were thrown at me at once. Now that most of that stuff has settled down somewhat, I can go with my original plan.
At the end of this project (so after the end of Part 2 or 3), I'd like to ask a few questions so I humbly request that you PM me or leave your answers in a review once I ask them. I might create a poll for it instead but it all depends on my level of busyness once I finish (grading for my students' major paper is coming up)
Finally, keep in mind, you are not required to read this entire thing. Just look at the titles/brief descriptions and read the ones you're interested in.
So without further ado, the compilation:
Kiriban for the 777th favorite of all my work on deviant art—request was for an UKUS/USUK type of fic with England reminiscing about how both America and their relationship has changed/grown.
Tentative Title: Oh Yes, It's So Very Special...
England stormed through the streets of New York. He had been to America's New York house plenty of times, but this time it was hard to see the street signs, partly because of the snow falling into his eyes every time he looked up (it seemed like it was Mother Nature's way of saying "Merry Christmas!" a little early) and partly because of how upset he was. His eyes burned again as he thought of the reason that he was visiting America, and he quickly swiped at them as the heat traveled to his cheeks at the thought of his angry tears being misinterpreted by some passerby as something else.
"Stupid snowflakes," he grumbled loud enough for the person walking by him to hear. She let out a laugh and kept walking. Arthur peered at the sign on the corner and realized he'd gone one street too far. Backtracking to the subway entrance he wanted, he thought of how much things had changed between him and Alfred over the many hundreds of years.
"He used to be so cute when he was younger," he said to himself. He knew this was something he said all the time to America, often after getting completely drunk when he and the other nation went out drinking. The image the enthusiastic and adoring eyes of a young America floated into his mind as he climbed onto the subway train. As he sat down, he remembered a time many, many years ago.
"Arthur, you came back! I knew you'd come back to see me," America said, running up to him and embracing him around the waist (which was how high he could reach at the time).
Arthur glanced back at the official who was standing next to him before looking back at the younger nation. "Alfred, I see you've grown since I last saw you," he said, patting the boy on the head. For some reason, acting casual around each other felt awkward when others were watching. "Why don't you be a good boy and sit down over there until I am finished with this gentleman?" He pointed to a red velvet-upholstered chair in the hallway a short distance from where they were.
Alfred's face fell. "Did I do something wrong? Did you not come back to see me like you promised?"
Heat poured into Arthur's cheeks at this question. "No, that is not it. I am busy at the moment; that is all that is the matter."
Alfred walked over to the chair that Arthur had pointed to and obediently sat in it. Arthur nodded and then started walking down the hall to the meeting room with the official. They had taxes to levy, laws to pass, bestowals of land to endow, and similar business to take care of, and though Arthur would rather spend time with Alfred, he had do to this work.
"Cheeky brat," the official said, glancing over his shoulder and frowning. "Does he think you have nothing better to do than entertain him? He is not the reason you came back; you came back to work."
Arthur cringed at how loudly the official had spoken when he heard a small gasp behind them. Trepidation clutched and squeezed his heart as he glanced over his shoulder at Alfred. What he saw stopped him in his tracks.
Alfred had stood up from the chair, his eyes wide with shock and edged with tears. His mouth was open and he looked as if the official had slapped him; despite the fact that it was another's words that had lashed out at the small boy, Arthur's heart hurt as if he had been the one who had caused the hurt look on the younger nation's face.
Alfred's bottom lip quivered and he quickly turned and dashed down the hall and out the doors.
"Ah," was all Arthur could get out as he reached for the boy's retreating form.
"Mr. Kirkland?" the official said. He had stopped when Arthur had. "Should we not hurry? Others are waiting."
Arthur's heart twinged in pain. It was the truth that he didn't come back to the colonies to specifically to see Alfred, but it was also true that Alfred was the only reason he wanted to personally visit the Americas. If it wasn't for that loving look and enthusiastic greeting he got every time he first saw Alfred upon his return, he'd send someone else to do all this work; he hated boring "delegate" jobs.
Preview of Up-coming fanfic projects:
RussiaxAnastasia collaboration with a FFN member
Tentative Title: The Adorable "Imp" and the Nation
a/n This is most like not going to be the beginning of the fic but a scene from it.
Russia glanced around the room. Anastasia was late, not a first when it came to things like school, but unusual for their visits. She'd always seemed reluctant to end their conversations about literature and history and promised she'd be eagerly waiting for him when he visited next.
Without Ana there, there was nothing to do in the princesses' sitting room, so he glanced around the room. He noticed a book wedged between a pillow and the edge of canapé1 and retrieved it from its prison. He flipped it open at random and started reading.
"I cannot quite describe the color of his eyes, dear diary; they defy description. Not blue, I won't call them blue, not even light blue. No, diary, if I had to choose a color, I'd say his eyes are violet like a prairie crocus or perovskia2, but his eyes are nothing compared to the way he smells. Like chamomile. Oh diary, I always feel so calm and relaxed around him."
This is a diary? . . .Whose diary? Ivan wondered, not fully realizing that he shouldn't keep reading now that he knew it was someone's personal thoughts. I wonder who she's writing about? If this is one of the princesses' diaries, it's not likely to be anyone but a soldier or a guard. They don't see anyone else.
"I know that I'm just a silly girl for saying this, but who else can I tell this to? I now know for sure what I wrote to you about earlier. He is the one. For my birthday, he brought me the most amazing present. The gifts he left at my party, which he was unable, sadly, to attend were a book and some watercolor paints. They are exactly what I asked him for, as expected from him. But neither of those were the present I'm speaking of. Later on, as I was leaving from our usual visit, he secretly handed me a little box wrapped prettily in paper with pink painted roses. I opened it later when Maria wouldn't see. It was a bottle of violette perfume, and next to it, a bracelet with blue-green stones! Do you see, diary? I had only casually said I had run out of the perfume, and he got more for me. I think I have mentioned only once that I would love a bracelet with those colors, knowing it was difficult to find, and yet there it was! He must have searched all over to find it, just so I could have it."
Ivan turned the page. The narrative had captivated him. This is . . . no, it couldn't be hers; she wouldn't leave this casually where any common servant could read it.
"A secret gift. Secret and romantic, and I will adore him forever because of it. He knows I would never ask for those things because they are not serious gifts, but he got them for me anyway. Besides, the violette reminds me of his eyes. Oh diary, every single time he looks at me, I'm transfixed by his eyes although I try my best not to show it. I wish I knew what Vanya thinks of me. Doe he think of me as only a child? A friend? No, I can't believe that. Not after that gift. But do I really dare to dream he sees me as more than just Papa's daughter or Grand Duchess Anastasia?"
Ivan's stomach flip-flopped. This is . . .Ana's diary. . . and she's writing about me? His heart fluttered mysteriously at the thought. He turned the page to be sure it really was Anastasia's diary, but all the circumstances related in it practically shouted it was. He now knew he should stop reading, but he couldn't seem to stop.
"Besides, why, of all the ladies here, would he notice me, diary? Any of my sisters have a better chance of catching his attention; they're all so graceful and beautiful compared to me. I'm surely not the right height for him as short as I am. Even Maria is taller than I am. Although my eyes are as beautiful as Papa's and I do like the color of my strawberry-blond hair, I overheard a maid call me 'fat and dumpy'. I paid her back for that by hiding her brush; her hair was frizzy for a whole week! Ha ha! But she's right, diary. Why would Vanya want someone like me? I'm sure his ideal girl is someone who is beautiful, petite and thin with dark hair and—"
"Sorry for the wait, Vanya. I couldn't find my shoe." Anastasia said as she walked into the room.
Ivan slammed her diary closed and hid it behind his back as he turned to face her. His face started to grow warm. "It is fine. I wasn't waiting long, Ana."
Anastasia craned her neck to see what he's hiding. "What do you have behind your back?" she asked. "Is it another present? You know you don't need to bring me any more. You've already been so generous as it is."
His face ignited. "No, it's nothing. But I should have brought you another present; you only turn 15 once," he said, hoping that he could turn the conversation away from the diary in his hand. Any part of his skin where the book was touching was starting to sweat from the anxiety.
She refused to be distracted. "Well if it's nothing, then show me what you have behind your back," she replied.
Ivan trembled. Would she be angry that I read her diary? He tried his best to slide the book on the table he knew was behind him, and his stomach clenched when he realized in his effort to face Anastasia, he had moved too far from it to perform the task.
She walked over to where he was. "Come on, Vanya. Don't tease me." She reached around to grab the book out of his hands.
"No, don't!" Ivan squeaked as he took as step away from her.
She grabbed his arm. "Now I have to see. I want to know if you're doing something you aren't supposed to."
Ivan wrenched the arm to hold the book back farther; a twinge of pain from the maneuver shot up the limb and he flinched. She leaned forward, trying to see what was behind his back. He stepped back again and stumbled on the edge of the rug in the middle of the room. Unable to stop himself, he fell backwards, and since she was holding onto his arm, Anastasia also fell, only forwards.
Worried that she might get hurt, he let go of the book and wrapped his arms around her. He hit the floor with a loud thump, cushioning her with his body. They lay on the floor for a minute, panting from the adrenaline that the whole event had caused. Ivan stared up at the ceiling and was surprised that he'd never noticed the intricate little butterflies painted there. This intrigued him and he found himself counting the various types that were up there.
"V-V-Vanya," Anastasia stuttered out quietly.
He looked at her; her face had turned a deep rose hue. Suddenly, he realized that he was still clutching her to his chest. He sat up and gently released her, sliding her off his lap and onto the carpet. "I'm sorry, Ana. I didn't mean to be inappropriate." He gently touched her shoulders. "Are you hurt anywhere?"
She looked at the floor and shook her head. "I'm fine, Vanya." She glanced shyly up at him before looking down again. "I didn't mind you holding me. You smell nice."
Now it was Ivan's turn to blush. The heat from his head began to envelope his entire body. Good grief, she's adorable. He resisted the urge to embrace her; he still wasn't sure what would be allowed with his boss's daughter or if they were even allowed to have any kind of relationship at all.
She glanced behind him, and her eyes got wide when she saw the book lying on the floor. "I-i-is that my diary?" she asked.
Ivan cringed and nodded.
She furrowed her brow. "Did you open and read any of it?"
He nodded again.
Anastasia covered her face with her hands. "Oh no. I knew I had left it somewhere, but I couldn't remember where. Oh dear, I'm very embarrassed."
"Don't be," Ivan said, stroking her arms. "I'm the one who is embarrassed. I should not have read such a private book without your permission."
She looked up at him, tears edging her eyes. "So you know, then?"
Ivan furrowed his brow, a wave of confusion at her question flooded over him.
"You know that I'm in love with you," she continued. She let out a laugh. "I only realized it myself these last few months."
His heart flip-flopped at the confession. He hadn't concluded that from what he had read, but when he thought about it now, it was obvious from the words in the diary.
She smiled and looked shyly away again. "When you brought me exactly what I secretly wanted, I knew. I knew that no one would be able to make me as happy as you could. You listened to my heart and noticed what I truly desired, even though I was saying something else." She drew in a shaky breath and nodded as she let it out. Then her expression looked as if she was resolving to do something. She looked into his eyes, and her smile grew wider. "I'll love you forever, Vanya, no matter what happens after now."
For a moment, Ivan couldn't breathe. Before his head could stop his arms from acting, he pulled her into an embrace. He felt her hesitantly wrap her arms around him in return and then felt her embrace tighten into a sincere hug. He nuzzled his face in her hair and stroked the silky red-blond locks with his hand. His heart began to ache as reality caught up with him.
Tears began to sting his eyes. I can't love her back, he thought. I'm a nation; she's a human. It's impossible. Even if she doesn't get killed in an accident, she'll die of old age and I'll stay the same age always. It would be better if she loved someone more like her, a normal human being. He opened his mouth to reject her, but his tongue felt dry, the words sticking in his throat. Anastasia snuggled against his chest and sighed. All at once, the impossibilities didn't matter. Only she did. "My sweet little shvibzik, what am I to do?"
"What do you mean, Vanya?" she said against his chest.
"I mean . . ." Ivan started to reply then hesitated. Once the words were uttered, they could not be unspoken. Fear clutched his heart again; he didn't want to hurt her, but he also didn't want her to think he rejected her love or that he didn't care for her at all. " . . . that I love you too, Ana."
She moved away from him so that she could look into his eyes. "Say that again."
His face grew warm. "I love you, Anastasia. I do."
She let out a little laugh. "You mean, you love me like someone loves a pet or a child," she replied, waving her hand in the air as if to dismiss what he had said. "There's no way you would love me as a wom—"
He cut her off by catching her hand and bring it to his lips, placing a tender kiss on it. He looked up from her hand to see her face rose-colored once again. "I think it should be crystal-clear what type of love I mean now," he said with a slight smile. His heart flip-flopped, and the fear of hurting her, of losing her to old age or death, tinged the edges of his feelings with pain. He pushed it away. He wanted to feel this emotion pure and beautiful, untainted by other things. Things would work out the way they would work out. For now, he just wanted to be in the present.
She grasped his hand in response and pulled it over to her lips, returning the affection he had just bestowed. Anastasia looked at him and smiled. She ran her fingers over the skin of his hand, sending tingles up his arm and causing his heart to palpitate in response.
"Nastya, have you seen my tortoiseshell comb?" Maria said as she walked in the room. Ivan pulled his hand out of Anastasia's as quickly as he could. Her older sister stared at the couple. "What happened to you two?"
Ivan opened his mouth to give an excuse, but nothing came out.
"I tripped and knocked us both over," Anastasia said. "Ivan was trying to help me up just now." She bent down and placed her hands on the floor in an effort to help herself stand.
Ivan acted quickly. He stood up before she could move and then put out his hand to help her. She took his hand and used it to stand. He notice that where her hand was touching felt hot. They looked at each other, forgetting to released their hands now that she had been helped to her feet.
Maria looked from him to Anastasia and frowned. "Well, clumsy you, Nastya." She held out her hand. "Come, we're needed to help with writing some letters for our soldiers, and then we have that checkers game to finish with Sergeant Kovalenko and Corporal Petrov."3
Anastasia walked across the room and took her sister by the hand. She looked back at Ivan. "Well, I guess I took too much time looking for my shoe. I'll visit with you later?"
"Yes, once we finish with the letter writing, you should have some time after lunch to visit with our friend, Ivan," Maria said as she looked at him and smiled. "We'll see you later." With that, she guided Anastasia out of the room.
All at once, Ivan's head swam and he quickly found a chair so he could sit down. "What have I done?" he asked himself. Worse yet. Can I tell my boss? Should I tell my boss what's happened? Maybe I should break it off now before it's too late, he mused. He thought about Anastasia, her soft hair, and beautiful eyes and shook his head. His heart thudded in his ribcage and leaped at the thought of his Ana. "No. It's already too late," he told himself.
Gakuen Hetalia AU fic—the genders were chosen by drawing them out of a hat (so if the characters' genders seem random, that's b/c they are). 1St chapter told from Feliciana Vargas's (N. Italy) POV:
Tentative Title: When This Fits, I'll Tell You . . .
Ch. 1—Cold Packs, Warm Hearts
"You brats are in for it now," Maria Gillian Beilschmidt, Hetalia World Academy school doctor said. The students she was addressing looked up from their various lunches. The beautiful Prussian woman was grinning as she placed her hands on her hips.
Feliciana Vargas jumped at this. My pasta isn't going to settle well if this is bad news, the Italian girl thought, looking down at her lunch of penne and marinara sauce. All the other students she was addressing looked up from their various lunches at Ms. Beilschmidt.
Feliciana suspected why the doctor was in the mood to torture. It was most likely she'd been looking for a place to finish her lunch and take a nap outside when she'd discovered the spot on campus she'd selected was occupied by Arthur Kirkland and his girlfriend, Amelia Jones, Kiku Honda and his Taiwanese girlfriend, MeiMei Xiao, and the Vargas sisters, Feliciana and Lovina. This bunch was often seen together since Amelia was friends with MeiMei and Feliciana was friends with Kiku, and Lovina went wherever Feliciana went.
"Why do you say that?" 3rd-year student Arthur Kirkland asked.
Arthur's girlfriend, 2nd-year student Amelia Jones she sat on the grass next to him. She leaned against him and held a potato chip to his mouth. "Say 'Ah' Artie-sweetie," she said.
He ignored her, so she playfully tickled his side.
"Ah!" Arthur said, reacting to the touch.
Amelia shoved the potato chip in his mouth, which he tried to eat but ended up choking on a little.
Ms. Beilschmidt laughed and flipped her long platinum-blond hair over her shoulder.
"My brother, Ludwig, just got hired as your new PE instructor," she stated. "He's a real slave-driver."
"How much of a slave-driver?" 2nd-year Kiku Honda asked, looking nervous. His girlfriend, 1st-year MeiMei Xiao, bit into an inarizushi she'd brought in their box lunch.
"Well, he does have a record of having the most students pass out during a class," Ms. Beilschmidt said, tapping her chin, "but he also has the record of whipping students in shape enough to have them lead in sports for their district."
"Great, just what I didn't want to hear," Amelia said, flopping back on the grass.
"You're only complaining because you don't like running marathons," Arthur said. "How did I get such a lazy girlfriend?" He reached over and fixed her school uniform's skirt, which had come up slightly and exposed her long legs.
"Lazy or not, I'm still the hottest girl in school," she said, grabbing his arm and pulling him down on top of her as she started kissing him.
"Amelia, stop that!" Arthur said, crimsoning. "Not in front of a teacher!"
Ms. Beilschmidt walked over and lightly kicked the teens with her foot. "Keep that up and I'll turn the hose on you, Jones," she said.
"Why'd you only blame me!?" Amelia said, pulling away from her boyfriend's cheek.
"Because Arthur is student council first vice president," Ms. Beilschmidt said. "He wouldn't start trouble as easily as you seem to."
Amelia released him and they both sat up. "I get good grades," she said. "Stop implying that I'm a delinquent."
"Ve~ I have a question Ms. Beilschmidt," Feliciana Vargas said. Her sister, Lovina, stole a cookie from her lunchbox while Feliciana focused on her teacher. "If you're already pretty slow, will he punish you a lot?"
Please let him be nice, Feliciana prayed.
Ms. Beilschmidt laughed. "Tons! With whips and chains and an electric cattle prod," she said.
"Oh no! What'll I do, big sis?" she stated, hugging her older sister.
"Quit hanging on me!" Lovina said, "Just do what you always do. Imagine it's Monsieur Bonnefoy chasing you, trying to sexually harass you as usual."
All the students around them laughed loudly when they heard that.
You didn't have to say something so embarrassing in front of everyone, Feliciana thought, her cheeks burning. She opened her mouth to say something more, but the bell rang and the students were forced to go to their next class.
"Dr. Lillith4 would say that just before we second-years have PE," Amelia said, changing into her PE uniform.
The nickname Ms. Beilschmidt, the school doctor, had earned because she dealt out both loving medicine and tough-love medicine depending on what she decided the student deserved.
"Hey Feliciana, is what Lovina said true? You imagine Monsieur Bonnefoy trying to sexually harass you and that helps you run faster?"
"To answer your question, I do think that," Feliciana replied. "It's the only way to counteract against my weak ankles and constitution."
"That's her excuse anyway," Lovina said, pulling on her gym shirt.
"Is it true the entire school is going out to meet the new teacher?" Tina Väinämöinen said, pulling on her bloomers.
"Where'd you hear that from?" Natalia Arlovskaya asked. She pulled her platinum blond hair back in a ponytail.
"From Berwald," Tina stated, referring to her upperclassman Swedish boyfriend, Berwald Oxenstierna.
"Well if he said it, it must be true," Tori Laurinaitis said, tying her shoes. "He is student council second vice president, after all."
When the girls had finally gotten outside, they found that Tina was right. The entire Hetalia Academy was assembled, but only the 2nd year class was dressed for PE. On a stage the teachers were assembled in front of everyone: Ms. Beilschmidt, Francis Bonnefoy the French and home economics teacher, Roderich Edelstein the geography and civics teacher, Elizabeta Héderváry the science and health teacher, Yao Wang the math teacher, Maguerite "Meg" Williams the English teacher, Heracles Karpusi the history teacher, Adyan Adnan the Sciences teacher, Gabriela Roman the Languages teacher, and last but not least, Lien-Hua Li the Industrial Arts teacher.
The principal, Roman Vargas and vice principal, Gerald Beilschmidt sat in the middle of the teachers. At the end of the line of adults, a blond, blue-eyed man sat at the end, a stern look on his face. He had the same coloring as Gerald; in fact, he looked like a much younger version of him.
Seeing that everyone had assembled, Principal Vargas stood up. "Students, please stand and sing our school song," he commanded.
"Draw a circle; that's the earth . . ." the students sang out as they sang their academy's song. They finished the song with "Ah, with the single swipe of a paintbrush, a wonderful world can be seen! Hetalia!"
"I don't care how many times I say this," Peter Kirkland could be heard behind the second years. "That song is weird." A few other 1st-years giggled but were immediately silenced by the glares of the 2nd-years on the back row of their class.
Vice Principal Ulysses Nelson (whom the students lovingly called "Mr. United Nations") stood and cleared his throat. "Students, we have finally found a teacher to replace Mr. Takashiro for your physical education classes," he said. "Please welcome Mr. Ludwig Müller."
The student body applauded politely albeit hesitantly.
"Thank you, Vice Principal," the young man said after standing up. "Students, I'm happy to be able to help you all learn how to be healthy and fit." He smiled and glanced over the assembled students.
"Hey sis," Feliciana whispered, "Don't you think he's handsome?"
Lovina turned to look at her sister and raised an eyebrow. "Are you crazy?" she whispered back. "Gross! He's a teacher! You shouldn't think those things about your teacher."
"My sister informs me that you've given her a nickname," Mr. Müller said into the mic. Several students snickered. "I'm sure once we come to know each other better, you may give me one too." He gave the audience a quick and small smile, which quickly disappeared as his serious expression returned.
"Good grief. Doesn't he know that the nickname isn't a compliment?" Amelia, who was standing behind Feliciana's row, quietly said.
"Now, 2nd-years, let's see what you're made of," he barked into the mic. "Stretch out and then run 5 laps."
The 2nd-year class let out a groan.
"I think he does know it's not a compliment," one classmate said as they ran to the field to stretch out. "He really is a student-killer."
After the 2nd-years quickly finished warm-up stretching they hurried to start their test. Several students passed Feliciana as they moved into their 3rd lap around the track.
"I think I know what I want to call him," student council secretary Eduard von Bock panted to Kiku as he ran next to the Japanese boy. "Mr. Külmking5. How could he make us run 5 laps right after lunch?"
"But he's running with us," Kiku said, pointing behind them at their instructor. "Don't you think that's actually a way of showing that he expects the same out of us as he expects out of himself?"
Feliciana glanced over her shoulder to see what Kiku was talking about. True enough, Mr. Müller came running past them to the front of the group. He barked out some congratulatory remarks to the leaders and then he turned around to run to the back of the group, shouting encouraging words to the students to keep running as he went.
Feliciana stared at him. He's really physically fit, she thought, By doing that, he's running twice the distance we're running.
Mr. Müller reached the end of the stragglers and turned around. He glanced over where Feliciana was keeping her usual slow pace, just a little in front of the slowest runners. "Miss Feliciana Vargas!" he called to her.
Her face got hot. He knows my name already?
"Miss Vargas, watch where you're going!" he hollered, pointing in front of her.
She turned just in time to see the curve of the track but too late to turn with it; she immediately tripped over her feet and tumbled head over heels onto the ground.
"Sis, are you okay?" Lovina shouted turning around and running back to her.
"No . . . Ow. I think I sprained my ankle," Feliciana said, wincing as she clutched her right ankle.
"Everyone keep running!" Mr. Müller shouted as he came running up to the sisters. "That means you, Miss Lovina. I'll take your sister to the infirmary."
Lovina glared at him but started running again. Mr. Müller examined her ankle, touching it in several places. Feliciana's face reacted like it was a volcano about to explode.
"Doesn't feel broken," he said, looking up. Their eyes met, and he stared for a moment. He looked away and scooped her up into his arms.
"Eeek!" Feliciana said, almost falling out of his grip.
"Hang on to me," he commanded.
Her heart seemed to be doing somersaults as she reached up and placed her arms around his neck. She tried not to think about how he was so close to her that she could feel his warmth or how muscular his shoulders seemed or how fantastic he smelled even though he was sweating from running. You shouldn't think that way about your teacher, her sister's voice rang in her head.
"Williams!" he called.
Ms. Williams turned to see who was calling her name. She paled when she saw the pair. "Wh-wh-what happened to her?"
"I need to take this student to my sister. Could you go out and take over for me?" he said, ignoring the other teacher's question. "Have the students do some cool-down stretches after they're finished. Make sure you write down all their times!" Without waiting for an answer to his request, Mr. Müller proceeded down the hall to the infirmary.
Feliciana glanced back and could see that Ms. Williams had a look of shock on her face. She turned and headed in the direction they came from.
Lucky for him that he happened upon the one teacher who wouldn't say 'no' to him, Feliciana thought. Ms. Meg Williams was the most timid teacher in the school. Somehow, though, she managed to keep her classes under control.
"Already?" Ms. Beilschmidt said as she saw the two come in. She flipped her platinum-blond hair over her shoulder and got up from her desk. She rolled her eyes. "I guess your reputation of student killer is going to follow you here."
"She's not dead, Schwesterherz," he said, setting Feliciana down on a chair. "She just sprained her right ankle because she wasn't watching where she was going."
Feliciana looked at the floor, her face burning from embarrassment.
Ms. Beilschmidt gently lifted her foot.
Feliciana flinched.
"Grab me an ice pack," she said, pointing to a refrigerator in one corner. She grabbed some bandage to wrap Feliciana's ankle with.
"So bossy," Mr. Müller said, but he got up and did as she said.
"Yeah. Yeah," Ms. Beilschmidt returned.
He stuck his head in the refrigerator, then the freezer. "There isn't any in here," he said.
Ms. Beilschmidt sighed. "These brats must have taken all of them for who knows what. Go get some ice from the kitchen then," she stated.
Coach Müller closed the refrigerator and walked out of the infirmary.
"Ms. Beilschmidt?" Feliciana started to say.
"Yes?" Ms. Beilschmidt replied.
"Your brother," Feliciana said. "May ask you a question about him?"
"You just did," Ms. Beilschmidt said. She unraveled the ace bandage.
"You know what I meant." Feliciana flinched again as Ms. Beilschmidt quickly and expertly encircled her ankle.
Ms. Beilschmidt laughed. "Sorry, just trying to distract you while I fixed you up. Go ahead and ask away."
"Is he older or younger than you?"
"Younger."
"I thought so," Feliciana stated.
"Really?" Ms. Beilschmidt said, raising an eyebrow. "How'd you know?"
"You boss him like Lovina bosses me," Feliciana stated.
Ms. Beilschmidt laughed. "That's freaking hilarious," she said, "I guess it doesn't matter how many years there is between siblings, the older one always bosses, don't they?"
Feliciana let out a small laugh and nodded. She felt the heat return to her cheeks as she thought about Ms. Beilschmidt's brother. "How old is he?" she asked.
"Whaaaat?" Ms. Beilschmidt said, narrowing her reddish-brown eyes. "Why do you want to know? You brats have got to stop trying to figure out how old I am. You just need to accept that I'm awesomely young and beautiful for all time."
"No that's not why," Feliciana said. "He just looks kind of young for a teacher."
"He is," Ms. Beilschmidt replied. "He'll turn 22 this year. I'm not going to tell you how many years are between us, so you can forget it. Stop trying."
"But you said he taught before this . . . how could he be—"
"So young?" Ms. Beilschmidt interrupted. "He enrolled in this school a couple of years early. Ludwig was always really smart and serious, so it was no big deal for him to graduate before he turned 17."
Feliciana tried not to look shocked and nodded so that Ms. Beilschmidt would keep going.
"He went on to Hetalia University after that and finished in record time there as well," she said, referring to the elevator school next to the Academy. "He graduated from university at 20 and has been teaching for only 2 years. I made most of that stuff up to give you kids a hard time."
So he's only 4 years older than me, Feliciana thought. She would turn 18 this year. She was older than the other 2nd-year students because she'd been out of school due to a broken leg, and her sister, who would be 19 this year, had refused to move on to the next class level without her.
"Now don't tell anyone how old he is," Ms. Beilschmidt said, smacking Feliciana on her ankle, causing her to wince. "They might give him a hard time about his age, and I personally think he looks older than he is because he's got such a sour, serious expression on his face all the time."
"Here's your ice," Mr. Müller said, walking into the infirmary. "Were you gossiping about me to Miss Vargas here?"
Ms. Beilschmidt's mouth dropped open. "Bite me, Bruderherz," she said. "You're not that interesting. We were talking about my awesome self."
That's all I have time to post at the moment. But it's not the end! Part 2 of the gift is coming up and will include:
A USXfem!UK fic featuring the aftermath of a New Year's Eve party and words that should have been spoken years ago:
Tentative Title: I'm Sorry I Never Told You
Kiriban 77th Watcher on deviantart—request was "Britannia Angel and America. Theme: those time when you want a silly wish granted for no particular reason." . . . yeah, I know . . . difficult theme.
Tentative Title—Be Careful What You Wish For
Kiriban for 11,111th view of my deviantart page—request was for my interpretation of the Pirate!UK X Cowgirl!US pairing. Oh boy. That one was. . .interesting (mostly on how to keep it PG).
Tentative Title—Git Along, little Amelia.
My fanpage APH-Ahoge-Lovers "Tangled Up" contest prize winner—request was for a fanfic from the Bleach fandom with Byakuya, Kenpachi and Ukitake going out on Friday night. Something silly nothing too serious. (the fact that it was an APH contest but she requested a different fandom was surprising and refreshing).
No Tentative Title at this time
AND (something I hope you'll all be excited about):
Preview of Ch. 18 of "Sunshine and Rain"
Tentative Title: Fool Me Once, Shame on You . . .
Preview of Ch. 12 of "October Fool's Day"
Tentative Title: Step 12: Take Care to Watch for the Side Effects of a "Stupid Potion"
Look forward to it! ^_^ and happy Valentine's Day (...or I guess it's more like a late White Day gift?)
Footnotes in fics:
1 A canapé is a piece of furniture similar to a couch, and is meant to describe an elegant sofa made out of elaborately carved wood with wooden legs, and upholstered seats, back and armrests that seats three. Its shape is distinct from other sofas designed during the same era as it, including the divan and chaise longue, but does include several forms. Frequently matching chairs were made to go with it. Precious hardwoods such as walnut, cherry and mahogany were often used in its construction.
2 Another name for Russian purple sage.
3 Since the younger princesses could not be Red Cross nurses, they helped out during WWI this way.
4 A fallen female angel who searches for children to kidnap or kill
5 An Estonian spirit of the unholy dead who eats children when they bother the forest spirits