FrUK vs PrUK vs SpUK

Arthur Jones is a 11 year old who keeps a Journal filled with everything he likes and secrets. Chapters will go be a verity of ages Brotherly USUK with America as older brother and England the younger brother also SPUK later. Filed summary please read if you want.

SpUk. Set in the Anglo-Spanish War of 1585-1604. Fluff, possible smut in later chapters

Just read the story and see what it's about you twits. Oh wait, you probably won't unless you get an explanation of what it's about. My mistake, okay so basically it's about a Prussian and English Man. Humour, randomness, and romance happens. Enjoy. I do not own or have any rights to owning the characters and other things distributed among them in this story. I am just a lame person that likes to write about them in my own little creative and roleplay inspired ways. All rights belong to the creator, Hidekaz Himaruya. And the story is based off of a roleplay that me and Benepiz have done. Half of this credit goes to Benepiz for giving me ideas for stories to write with fun things we have done, thank you.

One shot of Arthur and Antonio.

Gilbert is a aspiring musician, he plays every night at a local bar. His girlfriend leaves him, and his songs take a depressing note. Even worse, he has to share the stage with some punk rocker he's never even seen before by the name of Arthur. Time goes by, the two listen to each others songs, untangling the riddles of the lyrics to understand each other. The songs start to change, and each is baffled by what it could mean. But its just a song....right? ((Shall have yaoi))

Arthur Kirkland was a lost soul until he found gilbert beilschmidt. From childhood to adulthood Arthur finds out the uncontrolling the feeling he all ways had around Gilbert

Just a bunch of stories about the country of passion and the country of tea

One hundred and thirty short stories about our favorite egotist and the man with the luscious eyebrows.

That night on the oak tree was the first place you told me that you loved me. That night on the oak tree was the last place you told me that you loved me. A feverish dream where the writer thought she could finish this.