I imagine Belarus as the friend who would convince other people to do weird shit to someone with her. Form a circle around them chanting something weird, everyone speaking to them only in lines from the Bee Movie or Shrek. Replacing every picture in their house with a picture of Vladimir Putin and having anyone who walks in act like nothing is wrong. The friend this happens to is more often than not Lithuania. Poland is in on it most of the time.
I was requested to write my very first ScotEng and also my very first omegaverse by lovelies @gallifreyanlibertea and @mamin-the-troll. I decided the only way I could do it was making it very fluffy, since I’m completely inexperienced with omegaverse (that’s Mana’s job!).
Notes: I took inspiration from a dialogue Arthur had in the last published chapter of my longfic ‘The House in London’, but in this Alistair and Arthur are not brothers. Also, my favourite hc about Scotland is that he’s got stubbles. Also please forgive me for my bad attempt at written Scottish accent >__<
House Intruder - (omegaverse, fluff, ScotEng)
all alone in Alastair’s house was a new, strange sensation.
when he’d came to visit in the evening, tired after a whole day of
work, the lights would have been on in the kitchen and living room,
the air would’ve been warm and cosy, smelling of baked goods or of
dinner steadily cooking on the stove.
would have been welcomed in with a cup of steaming tea, a warm
blanket gently placed on the shoulders and a quick, bearded and itchy
kiss on the cheek.
the house was now cold and dark. The kitchen was silent and lacked
any smell of food: instead it was kind of stuffy after a whole week
closed and unused.
blanket he was usually offered was neatly folded on his favourite
armchair and the only sound filling the air was of the old wooden
cuckoo clock on top of the stairs.
house was an old two storeys cottage in the Edinburgh area, with
creaky wooden floors and stairs, big widows that frosted in the cold
of winter and a roof where sometimes birds and dormice took shelter.
reminded Arthur of his grandparents’ old house in Wiltshire, where he
spent many weekends of his childhood chasing fairies and pixies in
the garden and listening to the steady falling of raindrops on the
windowsill at night.
had been in Dublin, visiting a cousin, for almost six days.
had made do during the week with texts, Skype calls and messages on
socials, but with the weekend approaching and the realisation it
would be the first weekend alone since they had gotten together, he
felt like just waiting for a call suddenly wasn’t enough.
needed to feel more of Alistair’s smell and presence to be able to
finally sleep more and well and wash away the week’s stress and
had always prided himself of being a strong, independent omega, but
that had been before meeting Alistair: now, with a partner as
attentive (almost to the point of being silly, and always trying to
look like he actually didn’t care) as the Scottish alpha, Arthur had
somehow softened to the idea of getting a little bit more clingy.
that the other needed to know or even suspect he had had these kind
was why Arthur had retreated the copy of the keys of Alistair’s house
from a small box in one of his studio’s drawers, had went to the
house late in the evening and had told no one, not even the owner of
the house, about his mission.
would have been very embarrassing explaining to his mate that he felt
the need to sleep in his clothes, in his bed, hugging his pillow.
was exactly what he came to do: after lingering a bit in the entrance
and living room, like a guest coming in for the first time, he had
went upstairs, to the main bedroom.
bed was old just like the rest of the house: king sized, wooden and
with a canopy that Alistair didn’t even use.
was soft and comfy and Arthur loved every single memory he had of
spending late night and late mornings on it with his beloved.
looked longingly at it, but first he went for the top drawer of the
dresser and retrieved his favourite pair of pyjamas Alistair owned:
checked, navy blue and white, of a soft and well worn cotton.
put it on and took a long breath, eyes closed, tugging the collar of
the shirt in front of his already very sensible nose. That was the
smell he needed, the one he associated with all the memories inside
that house, with his mate.
were a young couple, it was true: but a bit less than one year
together, as mates, was already enough for him to label memories,
smells and sensations and recognise them so well.
a satisfied smile, he let go of the collar and prepared to jump on
landed right in the middle, making the mattress jolt and the bed
creak and thump loudly on the floor, but it was all worth it: he was
finally surrounded by softness, calmness and the heavy mix of other
sensations the proximity of something belonging to Alastair always
brought to him.
best part was sinking his face in the pillow: Alastair had a
favourite one, the one on the left. It was always the one thing in
the room smelling more like the alpha, no matter if he had just
changed the sheets. It was like Alistair: rain on a pine forest, a
cigar slowly smoked on the sofa, the ocean foaming against a cliff, a
warm fire crackling inside an old house.
sighed contentedly, finally home.
exhaustion and stress left him immediately and he fell asleep,
missing his alpha.
of his alpha.
Alastair right next to him, calling him, gently shaking his arm to
wake him up…
Ohy? Wake, little monkey!” he heard.
?” he mumbled, still almost completely asleep. He turned around,
stretching and yawning, when he suddenly realised he was being held
by strong, warm arms in a very familiar hug.
screeched and jumped, almost falling off the bed in the attempt of
escaping his mate’s grip, all the while the other, very real and very
much amused by the reaction, was laughing out loud and still holding
Arthur safely by his side, on his bed.
What are you doing… home?” asked Arthur, shocked.
sat up and, seeing Alastair’s very amused look, he remembered he had
fallen asleep in the other’s pyjamas.
can explain!” he cried, trying to quickly take the shirt off.
just laughed more and stopped him, closing his big hands on the
omega’s ones and pulling him closer, almost on top of him: “I like
it on ye, Art.” he snickered.
was blushing furiously and just made an embarrassed sound, defeated.
came home tae me little monkey,” explained the alpha, caressing
Arthur face as the other pouted and tried to hide his face against
the pillow: “And tae me GPS alarm ye set off breakin in me house.”
asked Arthur: “You have a GPS alarm set for the house?”
just raised an eyebrow, still smiling.
I have a copy of the key!” protested Arthur.
didn’t think bout that when it rang a’ eleven pm.” admitted
grinned. He reached up to brush his lips over his mate’s chin covered
in stubble and confessed: “I’m glad you hurried home.”
hugged him closer once again and kissed him on the head, one hand
carding through short, messy blond hair.
I’m glad it was ye and not a thief!” exclaimed the alpha, before
Canada has actually kept track of every single nation’s slip ups, mistakes, and embarrassing moments, and he keeps them for blackmail. For example, he has recorded America belting Miley Cyrus’s Wrecking Ball in the shower, and he has a screenshot of a dirty text England sent to everyone on accident.
Hetalia: *quietly hums while cooking, still missing Homestuck* *receives a tap on the shoulder and looks away from the stove* da? *gasp* HOMESTUCK!! *hugs him*
Homestuck: *hugs back* I’m not gonna die yet, there’s still Homestuck 2.0!!!
SPN: son of a bitch.