EVERY TIME I SEE YOUR FACE IT REMIINDS ME OF THE PLACES WE USED TO GOOOO ~~~~~~
casually reposts this from my ask because holy shit this thing took me around a week and i don’t even know if it was worth it BUT HEY
EVERY TIME I SEE YOUR FACE IT REMIINDS ME OF THE PLACES WE USED TO GOOOO ~~~~~~
casually reposts this from my ask because holy shit this thing took me around a week and i don’t even know if it was worth it BUT HEY
This is for Paarsetulpen, I hope you like it. I tried to be a bit original and this was the result I hope it is not too horrible.
A Special Day
Matthew groaned as he woke up head pounding, he was going to kill who ever had the bright idea to do his bachelor party the day right before his wedding, he couldn’t quite remember but that would be something Alfred, Gilbert or even Mathias would do come to think of it. Might have been the three of them together and Matthew hated to disappoint so he more than likely agreed. If his head wasn’t already spinning and that he felt like being ran over by a Zamboni he would be berating himself right now.
“My wedding!” As it hit him, in a panic he jumped out of his bed and he looked about the room to locate his clothing hoping he wasn’t going to be late, can you imagine being late for your own wedding. It took him a few more second to realize that he wasn’t even in his room let alone in his house, last he checked his house didn’t move back and forth. Matthew was a bit concerned not knowing where he was and his tuxedo was nowhere in sight, taking a chance he walked to the door clad in his maple leaf boxer, when he opened the door he came face to face with his smiling father wearing his military uniform holding a bag and a large box under his left arm.
To: Panoramicc
Author: Little Miss Fangirl
——Not a lot of people know this, but Johan does in fact use his kitchen on a regular basis. Just not for cooking. He sucks at it. He makes a mean stamppot and boerenkool met worst though, but as Romano has told him a million times: “Mashing shit together and covering it in gravy doesn’t count as cooking, you wannabe potato bastard!”
So cooking in his fancy, fully outfitted kitchen is out. Baking however, is not. He has spent countless hours making all sorts of sweets and baked goods, either by himself, with his sister Margot, or with the little princesses whenever he was babysitting them. But as much as he loved baking with them, his absolute favorite baking buddy was Maddie.
Ah, Maddie. With her beautiful honey blonde hair tied up in a bun to keep it out of her face and her equally beautiful violet eyes which were closed in concentration at the moment as she was tasting the latest batch of cookie dough. He would be lying if he said that he wasn’t incredibly turned on by the way she was sucking on her finger. After giving it a final lick (causing him to bite his tongue to prevent a moan from escaping, he knows better than to disturb her while she was busy perfecting a batter) she scrunched her eyebrows a bit and added some more ingredients. After mixing the dough again she dipped her finger in it, covering it in a new coat. She was about to taste it when she felt a strong arm grabbing her by the waist and turning her around. She was about to protest when Johan took her hand and started licking the dough off himself.
A nedcan fic for tumblr user durch-artist-wannabe! I really hope it’s okay, and I equally hope that you like lots of fluff! word count: 1605
“Three years. Three years we’ve been together and you still haven’t sorted this out…” a soft voice echoed around the empty kitchen, Canada’s voice to be more precise Though it wasn’t spoken with any undertone of irritation, nor was there any hint that he was at all cross with the person he was speaking of. It was more of a fond sort of musing; sure it was shortly accompanied by a small sigh of displeasure, though this was more aimed towards the task he was now going to perform.
It took him a while, but he eventually managed to find a stool. One that looked like it could take his weight. He dragged it along the bitterly cold kitchen floor, mumbling a little bit to himself. This had become a daily routine; waking up early in the morning and deciding to make breakfast for himself and his lover. However, the certain Dutch man whom he woke up to every morning kept on forgetting that Canada was rather small in comparison to him, and thus everything in the house was placed up in outrageously high places. Well, outrageously high for Canada, but quite convenient for Netherlands. It was ridiculous; if you look at the size of Canada on a map, his land mass was much larger in comparison to The Netherlands. Yet, it seemed that their human representations were very much the opposite. Canada would often attempt to sneakily kiss Netherlands, just as a slight romantic gesture. Just to assure him that they were still together and that their love still grew strong. After all, that’s what couples do, right? Much to his disappointment, even standing on the tips of his toes proved to not work, and he’d (awkwardly) have to ask Netherlands to bend down a little. After three years of this routine Netherlands had accustomed to it, and made it a habit to crouch down a little if Canada seemed frustrated, because he was nearly always frustrated over the fact his was just that bit shorter than him.
This is for SJ / archangelunmei!
There were two prompts, but since you prefer NedFem!Can, I wanted to do that one for you! ♥“Madeline plays hockey in the local city league in between her university classes. Lars is a retired figure skater who now works as a coach and instructor. They’re never at the rink at the same time, until one day they run into each other and something sparks.”
Much akin to a drill sergeant as they inspect their platoon, Lars glided along the smooth ice and studied each skater as they performed various spins and jumps. His eyes were calculating and sharp when they landed on each student, but not without warmth. While his students saw him as strict and solemn, Lars was an excellent teacher who gave praise when earned. His extensive background in figure skating - complete with gold and silver medals - had earned him such prestige and respect, and no pupil ever left his tutoring without developing remarkable skill.
Reaching the end of the line, having given mainly nods with only a few instructions, Lars turned to skate by the door and clapped his hands twice. “That’s enough for today, everyone! Things are looking good, but there is more work to be done. Now go change, and we’ll meet again next Tuesday!” He had to get them off the ice by a certain time, since the rink was booked directly after by the city’s hockey team. Thinking about it, the sport interested him but wasn’t as artistic as he’d enjoy it to be. Cutting through the ice only to vault oneself into the air, spin, and land perfectly- all in tune to music- was something he much preferred. To go out on the ice in low lighting and tell a story through his moves, to feed off his partner and create a show- now that is what the ice was made for: to broadcast the beauty and intricacies a body can generate.
It has been a few years since he has retired, but Lars still yearns for the burn of his muscles from each move, for the biting cold on his cheeks, even for the spotlight to be solely on him or his partner. With his thoughts set in the past, he pushed the heavy locker room door open and barely registered the sound of laughter as it echoed through the halls.
To: Phyripo
Author: Paarsetulpen
Fandom: Hetalia
Pairing: NedCan (Netherlands/Canada)
Genre(s): human!AU, romance, smut
Rating: M
Links: AO3 / FF.net
Note: Netherlands’ name is Maarten in this version, as per request. However, it’s not the name I usually use for him, so he’s got a different name in the AO3 and FF versions. I hope that’s not too confusing.—
“We’re almost there.” Matthew reassured his boyfriend, who has been giving him a sceptical look for a while now from the car’s passenger seat.
“You said that half an hour ago.” Maarten pointed out, with a hint of worry in his voice. “Can you atleast tell where we’re going?”
“But that would spoil the surprise.” Matt replied with an innocent smile and patted Maarten’s knee. “You’ll like it, I promise.” he added, while turning his attention back to the road. They’ve been on the way since morning and left the main road about an hour ago. Now they were driving up a hill on a forest road that seemed to have no end.
Maarten sighed and leaned back in his seat, as if he has given up. Matthew could only imagine how unnerving this trip must be for him. Maarten loved to plan out everything in advance and stick to his schedule as much as possible. He hardly ever did something spontaneously and really didn’t like surprises. But this case was special.
To; Dutch-loves-tulips94
——
Oranges and yellows and reds are a familiar sight, nowadays- have been for a while. They paint the landscape like a wildfire each year without fail; an artist that works not with a brush, but with water and the seed and mother earth creating such a masterpiece that, even when one becomes so used to it, it is impossible to not fall completely and utterly in love with it over and over again. In love with him, over and over again- two, three, four times over, and it’s never enough because how could it ever be? He is everything he’s ever needed, a physical embodiment of it all in such a manner that it isn’t possible, he doesn’t think, for Him to ever change in that respect. He’s seen Him at his worst- while still kicking and fighting but being so thin, so weak, so damaged; but he’s also seen Him at his best, as irritable as He may be- strong and tall and stubborn beyond belief but so very full of life that it is hard to imagine him any other way.
The nightmares of that distant shadow ceased long ago.
For: Canaderp
From: ArchangelUnmei
AO3 link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/779842Trigger Warnings: Mentions of abusive relationship, substance abuse (alcohol and drugs) and self-harm (cutting).
Rating: T
Pairings: NedCan, FrUK, one-sided AmeCanFic:
When Matthew finally found Will in May of 1945, he was lying in a bed in a resistance safe house in Apeldoorn. He was exhausted and gaunt, made thin by his people’s hunger. Matthew had nothing on hand to immediately offer him except a canteen of water, a few ration bars and cigarettes. There were tears in Will’s eyes, joy and relief and pain, and his hands shook so badly that Matthew had to light the cigarette for him.
That memory is burned into Matthew’s soul forever; sitting on the edge of a rickety bed with a paper thin mattress, Will heavy and bony against his side, smoking and crying silent tears until he fell asleep.
It’s rare for a Nation to fall in love, for real. They love their people, their land, each other, but they do not fall in love. Falling in love hurts, and Matthew remembers being very young and France telling him that for humans, falling in love is possible because they live such short lives. Nations live too long, and love you fall into, you always fall out of as well. Falling in love hurts, because for Nations it always ends.
And yet, Matthew’s heart still turns over every year in spring when Will shows up on his doorstep with a bouquet of tulips from his personal garden and a bottle of wine. He’s pretty sure that’s love.
He asks Will once, when they’re standing in Major’s Hill Park, leaning against a fence and looking out across the river, shoulders just close enough to brush. Will stays quiet for a moment, then shifts closer, his arm sliding around Matt’s shoulders and lips just brushing his ear. Matthew feels himself flush, can’t help but press into the embrace a little bit himself, and his heart is thudding so loud he nearly misses Will’s quiet words.
“Sixty years is a long time to send someone flowers out of just gratitude, Matt.”
Matthew turns in his arms, catches him in a proper kiss. He can feel Will’s heart pounding under his hand and smiles, drawing back just enough to look up at him.
“I love you too.”
~*~
