#nordicrareshipsweek

[kayayday]

day 1 - coffee ~ "i love that feeling i get when you smile"

AWOOGA AWOOGA THEM DRINK COFFEE

this is very late entry for @nordicrareshipsweek in which i present one of my long time otps, ✨n o r f i n✨ i know they got kinda popular recently but IDC THERE WAS LITERALLY NOTHING FOR THEM LIKE A MONTH AGO SO I MUST SUPPLY

anyways stan norfin this took me so long oml---

[ifindus]

Tea/Coffee - for the first day of @nordicrareshipsweek

I’m trying to do a sort of series with these two for this week. Hopefully it turns out all right ~

[randomw07]

Rain (RomNor)

I’ve been pretty busy lately, so only had time to write one short RomNor ficlet for @nordicrareshipsweek . I’m actually really happy with this one!

Word count: 641 words

There's something mesmerising about the rain. The gentle pitter-patter of raindrops against the windows sound oddly soothing to Lukas' tired mind, soothes him as a grey haze cloaks the horizon and makes monsters out of shadows. Fascinating, how it plasters Vasilica's hair to his head, causes his clothes to cling to his skin. A passive enemy, one who appears without warning, but a romantic at heart, one who encourages his boyfriend to huddle close in search of warmth. Lukas likes the rain. It reassures him somehow.

"Didn't think to pack an umbrella?" he shuffles closer to the backrest of the sofa.

"I forgot."

The irritation in his voice is endearing. He can practically feel his pout as Vasilica nuzzles his neck, shivers as wet strands of hair brush against his skin. Vasilica's teeth are chattering, so he pulls him into a hug. A shower and fresh set of clothes would probably be a wiser idea, but they are young and foolish. What does it matter if they catch a cold?

He glances back out the window, at the fat droplets sliding down the glass.

A long time ago, when romance was a distant notion and friendships much simpler, they used to bet on them. In a race in which the participants bore no distinguishing markings, it was ever so easy to cheat. Lukas has lost count of the number of times Vasilica would distract him long enough for him to lose track of his raindrop. Yet It never used to bother him. He supposes he simply accepted it after a while, saw no point in arguing when faced with such a happy face.

He remembers how they used to rush outside in their wellies as soon as the rain stopped falling. They would collect any snail they could find, place them on a cardboard race course and watch them slowly make their way to the finish line, Vasilica commentating while Lukas played referee. How he misses those carefree days of innocence now, in a world of bills and adult responsibilities.

Nowadays, the rain has become a solitary sport. "Will they risk getting drenched or wait it out" is a favourite of his, one he occasionally talks Vasilica into playing with him. Other times, during those melancholic days the rain helps create, he watches puddles form in dips in the pavement, ripple after ripple distracting him from reality for a short time.

There is no melancholy today. Only a growing chill as Vasilica steals the warmth from his body. He shivers but makes no attempt to push him away. They already share a soul, after all. He doesn't even mind Vasilica's chin digging into his collarbone, because their position allows him to thread their fingers together, to snuggle closer and let his eyelids flutter shut.

"Lu," Vasilica rouses him from the verge of sleep.

"Hm?"

"I love you."

Three simple words, yet they flood his being with a sudden glow. Vasilica loves him. Of course he does. And Lukas loves him, more than anything. His partner. His constant companion.

Three simple words, yet he glows every time he hears them. He basks in Vasilica's love for him, letting the feeling spread throughout his body, gathering in his heart and flooding his brain. His soulmate, his boyfriend, how he loves him. How can he say it, though? It is far easier to express himself with gestures than with words. So he squeezes his hand and presses his lips to Vasilica's forehead.

"Like you better when you don't smell of wet dog."

The "tough shit" he receives in response makes him laugh harder than he should. Butterflies fluttering throughout his body, he shuts his eyes, basks in Vasilica's comforting presence, and listens to the pitter-patter of raindrops against the window pane.

No doubt about it, he thinks, the rain truly is a magical thing.

[lukatheselkie]

Nordic Rare Ship Week Day Two

@nordicrareshipsweek

Pairing: Finland x Switzerland

    Tino sighs silently as he watches a raindrop land on his windshield and nearly immediately get wiped away. Of course it’s going to rain when he so desperately needs the sun shining. Oh well. He can still continue with his plans, though they will have to be altered. If they are even accepted. He hopes they are. The radio and the rain are the only things he can hear for awhile as he drives. He doesn’t even let himself think.

    He turns the vehicle off and hops out when he gets to his destination. He grabs the picnic basket from the backseat, and locks everything up carefully. He’s absolutely soaked by the time he gets to the door. He takes a deep breath, and knocks fearlessly. It isn’t long before the door opens, and a scowling face greets him. It’s the most beautiful face he’s ever seen. “Vash,” he breathes out.     “What do you want?” His voice is sharp, tone full of venom. Tino doesn’t shrink back, though he wants to. He holds up the basket with a sheepish smile.     “I’m sorry. I lied when I said I didn’t need you. I know I messed up. But I thought we could talk about it over a picnic? We’ll have to have it inside now though. The weather was nice while I was packing it.” Vash’s eyes shimmer with intrigue. That’s a good sign.     “Come in. You’re soaking wet. Let me find you some dry clothes and a towel.” He opens the door, stepping aside for his unexpected guest. He gives him a tight smile, then hurries deeper into the house. Tino stands as close as he can to the door, not wanting to drip over anything expensive. Thankfully, Vash returns in a matter of moments, handing him a towel. He dries his hair off first, then pats down his clothes to the point he’s not soaking everything he walks over. “Change.” He places the clothes into his hand firmly. Tino knows there’s no room for argument. He places the picnic basket down, and autopilots to the washroom. It’s exactly as he remembers it.     “Thank you for your kindness.” He freezes when he sees Vash has set out the picnic he made. Out of all the things he had been expecting, this wasn’t one. He smiles broadly at the Swiss man, who stands and hugs him tightly.

    “I believe the rain happened for a reason. I would have slammed the door when I saw you if you hadn’t been sopping wet. I’m glad I didn’t. You are forgiven, Tino. We both said some things we didn’t mean. Can we put that behind us and try again?”

    “Of course we can. I love you, Vash.”

    “And I love you too.” They bask in each other’s warmth, listening to the pitter patter of rainfall on the roof. Things may not be perfect between them, but it’s a step in the right direction.

[happyflappymoscowbirbpleyyn]

Filet-o-Fish? (Date Night)

Prompt: Aquarium - “Appropriate is boring.”

Pairing: Iceland/America, mention of Norway/2P!Sweden

@nordicrareshipsweek

Emil sighed. He was bored and Alfred was playing another superhero game. Sometimes he wished he could go on a date like they used to. Ever since this game came out two years ago he’s been playing it non-stop. He hasn’t managed to beat it. At this point he was doubting if Alfred ever would.  Throughout the day Alfred only got more angry with the game to the point he had to turn it off and put the controller away. Afterwards he laid across Emil’s lap.

“What do you want to do?” Alfred asked. “Oh, so now you’re asking me for something to do,” Emil said. Blue eyes look up at the blond Icelander. “For the past two years you didn’t want to go on a date because of that video game but now you want to do something.” “Ok, yeah, I guess I’ve been ignoring us. How about tomorrow we go on a date?” “Let’s go to the aquarium.” “Aquarium it is.”

The next morning, Alfred and Emil made their way to the aquarium. It was Lukas that had taken them there. It wasn’t a surprise he didn’t try to embarrass Emil this time simply because of how long him and Alfred have been dating. When they were at the aquarium Emil said they’d meet him in a few hours. That’s when Lukas said he’d be here with his boyfriend, Beck. Emil rolled his eyes. Of course they’d be here. Hopefully they’re not going to stalk them. Taking Alfred’s hand, Emil led him away from Lukas.

“You’re the only person I want to be around while we’re here,” Emil said. “No complaints here,” Alfred said. Emil rolled his eyes again, this time with a smile on his face. “Let’s go see the sharks.” At the Shark Tank (teehee), purple eyes of Emil watch as the caretaker fed the sharks. Alfred however... He’d managed to get into a balloon fight with a child. Looking over at his American boyfriend, Emil sighed and smiled. He’s so childish at times, but Emil loves him anyway.

[helltalia-inc]

Some of the Hetalia Events that took place in 2020

Note: The links that aren't working might be because of the change in the blog' name or because they could have been deleted (they are still there for reference). Also "some events" because it's hard to keep track of every event, so some others might be missing on this List.

Also, let's pay attention on this considerable number of events... in this "supposed dead fandom", in 2020. Yes, I'm laughing right now.

#EVIL LAUGH

@prumano-week

@heta-oc-week

@aph-lunar-new-year

@hetaliancupid-hetaliaevent

@spamano-secretvalentine

@lietpolweek

@aphlithuaniaweek2020

@historical-hetaliaweek

@amelietweek

@the-transtalia-blog

@aph-slav-week

@hetaliaafrica2020

@dennorweek

@aph-latam-events

@aphrarepairweek2021

@aushun-week

@nedport-porned-event

@usukweek

@aph-nedden-week

@hetaliamondaychallenge

@hwsyuriweek2020

@frukweek

@nedcan

@aphbalticweek2020

@hongice-week

@nedtai-week

@rochuweek

@argchiweek

@ruscanweek

@prucanweek

@aphasiaweek

@hetaween-hetaliaevent

@aph-zoomcall-collab

@tenduw (#aphcountryoftheweek)

@nordicrareshipsweek

@magictrioweek2020

@aph-portugal-week

@gereng-week

@brargweek

@winterhell-hetaliaevent

@aph-mirror-week

@aphsecretsanta

@lietpolsecretsanta

@spring-has-come

@spainromanoevents

[heta-on-the-books]

Draft one! haha @nordicrareshipsweek @prucanweek @hetaween-hetaliaevent @rochuweek

Hetalia Birthdays

Cyprus Germany  China Austria 

[ifindus]

Appropriate is boring - for the thrid day of @nordicrareshipsweek

As mentioned; this whole week will have a related story line, and this piece is of the fic I posted yesterday

[ifindus]

Sleepover - for the fifth day of @nordicrareshipsweek

From the last scene in the fic from the previous day

[ifindus]

Life can be endless, but it’s better with you - for the last day of @nordicrareshipsweek

This piece accompanies the fic I’ve been writing on the alternate days of the event, and pictures the very last scene.

[ifindus]

Rain

 - for the second day of @nordicrareshipsweek

I will be posting my written entries both here and on AO3 and they will fit together with my art pieces for the week. It is, of course, ScotNor.

Paring: Norway/Scotland Wordcount: 696 words Summary:  The second world war has begun and Norway had to flee his country with the Royal family. While they now are safe in England, he has taken the trip up to stay with Scotland as there is little he can do in London. Still, he longs to be back with his own people - will he stay with Scotland for long?

The drops splattered against the glass in a constant attack on the stone building. From behind the lead frame the heavy, dark clouds were enshrouding the coastal city, hiding everything outside in a veil of uncertainty. The dull light painted the framework as gratings in the shadow thrown on the figure and the floor inside. The rain slid down the glass as the person continued to stare out towards the sea. It was barely noticeable, but his stature was rigid and the tenseness apparent in the way he gripped the cuffs of his shirt. The grey stone walls, the stone floor and the weather seemed to swallow him whole. Not even the sound of footsteps approaching shook him from the state he was in, however, a low voice sounding out in the end of the hallway did.

“Sorry about the weather.” The footsteps had stopped, and the other person regarded the figure by the window. The man slowly blinked, as if he returned to the physical world, and turned his head, body never moving. 

“It’s comforting.” He turned back to stare out onto the sea, deep eyes taking it all in. “It reminds me of home.”

“Norway.” The word hung in the space between them, both addressing the person and as a comment on the last statement.

“Yes…” He brought up a slightly shaking hand to brush the ashy hair out of his face.

“You know it’s not safe.” The other man began to slowly walk towards him again. “Especially not for nations like us-”

“I know.” The words sounded harsh with the urgency they left his mouth, cutting through the air. An uncomfortable silence filled the hallway and Norway’s eyes shifted towards the other, now standing still once more. “Do you not like it here?” Spite and hurt dripped from the question. “Have I not made you feel welcome enough?”

“Scotland… you know that’s not it.” He glared over at the other country.

“You know, I’m starting to believe it’s me you don’t like. The first time you come to visit in centuries and you’re itching to leave again as soon as possible.” “Would you prefer it if I had stayed with England instead?” “Well, you never stay long anywhere anyway, so it’s not like it matters much.” The following silence was only broken by the splattering raindrops and then a sigh from Norway. He dragged a hand down his face and continued to stare out the window. The bags under his eyes and the hollow cheeks witnessed of a deeply tired man. “I’m sorry it has been a while…” He cleared his throat. “When you’re not in control of yourself, only used for producing resources and fighting battles for other people, time tends to disappear. I’m sure you can relate.” “You were at the South Pole just a few decades ago. Yet here is too far away?” “You could have visited me as well, you know? Don’t act like it’s entirely my fault.” “Argh, can we just stop this?!” Scotland strode up to him and gripped hold of his shoulder, forcing him to face him. Blue eyes connected with green. “Don’t go! It’s dangerous. Germany is patrolling your entire coastline and the Northern Sea. If he spots you, there’s no guarantee you’ll manage to escape.” Norway grits his teeth and glares up at the other nation, brushing the hand of his shoulder. “I refuse to be occupied.” He spits the last word. “I have fought too hard for my independence just to lose it now.” “I know.” Scotland glares back down at him. “I don’t want you to throw it away.” “Then help me.” The blue eyes watered, drowning in the desperate situation. Strong arms weren’t late to grip and hold him close. An almost bruising hug conveyed what was still unspoken between them. Such a deep care and comfort weren’t found with many others. “Whatever you need, I’ll be there.” “It will just be for a short while.” He hugged him closer. “I will return soon.” Scotland closed his eyes and breathed in deep, nose tucked into ashen blond hair. “At least stay for tea.” “Make it coffee and you have a deal.”

[ifindus]

Forest

- for the fourth day of @nordicrareshipsweek ! (Although a bit late)

The fic is also posted on AO3 as the second chapter of my first fic from this week. As mentioned earlier, all my pieces for this week ties in with each other.

Pairing: Norway/Scotland Wordcount: 1 189 words Summary: Scotland is driving Norway up to Aberdeen to catch the ferry north, however things do not go according to plan.

“You didn’t have to do this.” “I know I didn’t.” Green hills, divided by fences made of stone, flashed by the window as the car drove through the landscape. The roads were old and had a few holes too many in them, evident by the constant shaking of the moving vehicle. Occasionally, the strip of dirt that was the road would drift east and the two passengers could see the shore and the vast sea beyond. Everything was grey. The autumn weather had set in for real this time, tearing off a few yellow leaves from the old trees here and there and taking them on a journey through the fields. “I could have taken the train.” “I know.” Scotland gritted his teeth. “For fuck’s sake, can’t you just accept it?” “There are more important things you should be doing than driving me around.” “Aye, probably!” He huffed loudly and clenched his fingers where they gripped the wheel. “But I want to do it. So, just let me.”

Silence filled the car once again as it continued its path down a slope. Both the countries were wearing thick coats over knitted sweaters due to the gradually dropping temperature they had experienced that last few days. The car was quite new, bought only a few years prior to the war’s outbreak and had been intended as Scotland’s official transportation around Edinburgh. This had become even more apparent as they had left the city limits and ventured out on the bumpy dirt road. It had been far from a comfortable ride, and the tense air between them didn’t help the matter. Several hours had passed since they had left the city. They had just gone down a short hill where a grove of trees lined the little stream at the bottom, passing over a sturdy stone bridge, when the car puttered miserably for a few metres before it came to a complete standstill. The two countries sat still for a moment. Norway sighed as he dragged a hand down over his face, rubbing at his temple. “I really should have taken the train…” He mumbled under his breath. Scotland glared over at him and huffed before he scurried out of the vehicle and slammed the door shut behind him. Norway groaned as he followed suit. The biting air was harsh when he stepped out of the car, causing him to rub his gloved hands together to create some warmth. Norway took in the surroundings, tall grass and bushes beneath broad trees, covered in dead leaves, leaning in towards the narrow road. He leant against the side of the car and noted how his breath came out as small clouds. Autumn was slowly becoming winter. Scotland was kneeling in front of the machine, his dark, curly hair the only thing visible from that angle. Norway rolled his eyes at the muttered swearwords coming from that direction. All the songbirds had flown south in preparation for the winter and so the only sounds they could hear was that of a lonely crow in the distance. “What’s wrong with it?” “I don’t fucking know!” The hot-head rose and in anger kicked at the front of the car, the hand crank abandoned by his feet. “It won’t start!” “I can see that.” He sighed when all he got in reply was a yet another glare. “Would you like to keep trying? Or should we start walking?” “Let’s just walk.” Norway turned back around to open the door and fished out both their bags. His own he hoisted over his should while flinging the other over to Scotland. In silence, they begun trotting along the path, leaving the car and the trickle of the stream behind them. Not more than five minutes passed before they were out of the gathering of trees and once more surrounded by farmland. Sheep were small white dots scattered over the hills. The open space coming with an icy breeze. After trekking along for a few kilometres, they finally reached a small town. Or, calling it a town was an overstatement. It was more some sort of a gathering of small houses. Scotland after a while managed to find a farmer who happily agreed to bring two of his horses down over to where the car had broken down. The man and his family also offered them a place to stay for the night and after dropping off their bags there, all three of them rode back for the vehicle. Norway held a tight grip on Scotland’s hips where they travelled on the shared horse. Anywhere else, would not have been appropriate. It took some work and a lot of patience, although not much of the last one from Scotland’s side, but eventually they got the broken-down car all the way over to the man’s farm. By then it was already dark and time for supper. After a quaint meal with the farmer and his family the two nations retreated to a spare bedroom in the attic of the house. The walls were bare and slanted and the only furniture was a metal-frame bed with two mis-matched side tables with pink, crocheted tablecloths. “Which side do you want?” Norway slumped his bag down by the door as Scotland walked in behind him. “It doesn’t matter, I’ll just take right if you’re fine with that?” “Sure.” The two countries were quiet as they stripped down to their undershirts and sat down on each their side of the bed. The pink flowery covers a stark contrast to the grim reality they were facing at the moment. Thankfully, the bed was large enough that they could lay down comfortably without touching the other. Not that either of them didn’t want to, it just was not… appropriate. The only thing they could do was lie beside each other in the darkness of the room, the space between them almost burning. The sound of their breaths filled the room. “How many trees make a forest?” Norway suddenly broke the silence with a quiet murmur. “What?” Scotland furrowed his large brows in confusion. “I don’t know. How many?” “No idea. I was asking you.” He tucked a lock of hair behind his ear. “How many trees do there have to be before we can call it a forest? Are there any rules to the spacing of them?” “… there’s just somethings you know, I guess? You wouldn’t call a gathering of trees a forest unless it’s large enough to be a forest.” “Then you could almost say that a forest is a feeling.” “Well, I wouldn’t go that far. But I’m sure you would know better than me.” “Or we could just have different perceptions of what a forest is.” “Everyone has different perceptions about everything.” “I guess that’s true.” Norway hummed in acknowledgement. There was a short beat of quiet before he spoke up again. “Your people are very kind.” “Aye.” “Friendly.” “Mm.” “And even if you don’t have many forests… it’s a beautiful country.” The only answer he got was a hand softly squeezing his own underneath the covers, where nobody else but them knew.

[ifindus]

Know that you are wanted and adored

- my final written piece for the sixth day of @nordicrareshipsweek about two weeks too late, but at last I am finished.

Pairing: Norway/Scotland Wordcount: 765 words Summary: They have finally reached the city of Aberdeen and it’s time to say goodbye. Historical context: In october of 1940 the British established what would later be a force fully under Norwgian control stationed on the isles of Shetland in Scotland that lead several missions over to coastal Norway during the war, smuggling in weapons and rations to the resistance and bringing wanted people back over to Britain. Several of the ships would be sunk by the German forces, yet they would not stop their efforts until the war ended. Many Norwegian sailors and voluenteers participated in this.

The smell of the ocean wafted towards them as the door of the train swung open and they stepped down onto the platform. In the end, they had caught a ride to Dundee and jumped on the train up from there. The city of Aberdeen appeared far from welcoming with its endless streets, grey sky and grey buildings. Pulling his coat tighter around him, Norway hoisted the strap of his bag further up his shoulder. The docks only lay a couple of hundred meters away from the train station, so they didn’t have to walk far this time. Still there was about an hour before the ferry was scheduled to depart and so both countries had slowed their pace considerably as they strolled down the lane.  

Out on the docks, seagulls flocked to the fishing boats that had just returned from the sea, filling the air with their hoarse screams. The familiar smell of fish and salt produced an even stronger sense of longing in Norway. If he just got to place his feet on the deck of a boat, he was sure he would feel calmer and more reassured. Reassured that everything would be all right in the end, even if the sky was covered with grey clouds right now. He felt his hand twitch where it gripped the bag strap.

“And what’s your plan now?”

Norway blinked himself back to the moment and turned his head towards the nation beside him. Scotland had a worried crease between his large eyebrows, eyes pinned on a point far ahead of them.

“I suspect you already know.”

“Have you talked to England about it?”

Norway sighed.

“Yes. I have.” He tucked away a lock of hair that had fell into his eyes. “Shetland is a good location for a base of operations. England will send up any Norwegian refugee willing to join… along with weapons and boats.”

“And you’ll be what? Leading?”

“Of course not.” Norway furrowed his eyebrows and looked down at the ground. “I will be… assisting. I will go with the first boat and then… we’ll just have to see how it goes I suppose.”

“Smuggling weapons and information over and bringing people back?”

“That’s the general idea of it, yes.”

They came to a stop as they reached the gangway up to the ferry. It would take almost a whole day to arrive in Lerwick, yet Norway was eager to begin the journey. Still, in a way it felt wrong to leave like this. He knew he was disappointing his generous host. However, these were feelings none of them could afford to have at the moment. There was a war going on.

“Scotland.” Norway turned to his friend with a serious look in his eyes. “I cannot express how much I appreciate what you have done for me. Thank you for letting me stay. And thank you for letting me go.”

Scotland chuckled. It was sad, yet… he still looked happy. A hand reached up and tousled the dark curls as he once again focused on Norway. They were at last facing each other fully.

            “We twa hae paidl’d in the burn             Frae morning sun till dine;             But seas between us braid hae roar’s,             Sin auld lang syne.”

Scotland smiled at him, green eyes stirring something deep inside him and Norway remembered why he really had to leave. It burned. It burned as Scotland continued.

            “And there’s a hand, my trusty fiere             And gie’s a hand o’thine,” he reached out and took Norway’s free hand in his own. It was calloused and rough, spreading warmth between them.             “And we’ll tak a right gude-willy waught             For auld lang syne.”

It felt as if something was stuck in his throat and it was only after blinking away what might have been tears that he did manage to speak.

“You’re quoting Burns now?” If Scotland noticed the quiver in his voice, he didn’t mention it.

“Well, love burns sometimes.” There it was. The word neither of them had mentioned until now. Avoided. Love. Love burns. And Norway truly felt it burn.

“Yes. It does.” Strangely, their handholding right now seemed like the most intimate thing they had ever done. And he really did not want to let it go. But now was not the time and they both knew that. He gave the warm hand a squeeze before he released his grip.

            “We’ll take a cup of kindness yet,             for auld lang syne.” He smiled warmly as he took the first step up onto the gangway. “I’ll see you soon, Scotland.”

“See you soon, Norway.”

[lukatheselkie]

Nordic Rare Ships Week Day One

@nordicrareshipsweek

Ship: SuFrUk

    Arthur blinks rapidly at the tea in Berwald’s cabinet. Lemon licorice? Blueberry? Strawberry? Vanilla strawberry? Orange? Forest berries? Elderberry? Buckthorn and mango? Raspberry and pomegranate? Lemon grass and cornflower? Where are the black teas!? And what’s there isn’t even loose leaf! He hears Francis snicker next to him, and whirls on him. He’s pouring himself some coffee, the preferred choice of both of Arthur’s boyfriends. “Do you have something to say?” Francis grins at him.

    “I’m glad you asked! Berwald bought those teas for you. He didn’t know what you would like, so he got what was recommended to him. Apparently Swedes like fruity and herbal tea.” Arthur softens a bit at the explanation. Berwald bought ten different types of tea for him? How sweet.

    “Well, I suppose trying something new isn’t entirely terrible.” He grabs the raspberry and pomegranate tea, fearing trying that one the least. Blueberry, strawberry, and orange can be overwhelming in tea with other potent ingredients, otherwise he would have chosen one of those. At least Berwald has an electric kettle. Francis nudges him lightly. He ignores him, putting on some water to boil. When that’s done, he goes to open the box, but is twirled around by Francis. He places a sound kiss on his lips, smiling a bit as he does so. When he pulls away Arthur scoffs, cheeks tinted pink.

    “Can’t I give you a good morning kiss?”

    “Of course you can. Just don’t take me by surprise like that.” Francis chuckles, placing a kiss on his forehead.

    “I see. But I like seeing you blush, and the best ones happen when you’re taken off guard.” Arthur pushes him away gently, making a face at him. He takes out a tea bag, and places it in his favourite mug of Berwald’s. Francis hugs him from behind, placing his head on his shoulder. He watches the Brit pour the now-boiling water into the mug, then squeezes him lightly. “How long does it need to sit?”

    “Long enough for you to finish your coffee,” he grumbles, picking up the box to read the brew time. Francis laughs quietly, holding him closer.

    “And what if I don’t want to finish my coffee? What if I want to drink it with you?”

    “Then you have to wait four minutes.” He places the box back in the cabinet with the other teas. He’s still a bit miffed about not being able to drink black tea, but Berwald couldn’t have known that’s what he likes best. He hasn’t told him. And he’s not sure he wants to tell him now. He was considerate enough to buy plenty of tea, despite barely drinking it himself. Francis rocks them back and forth in the silence, watching the tea brew. Arthur doesn’t complain; he likes the warmth. And he might be a bit touch starved, but no one would ever get him to admit it. Berwald walks into the room as he reaches out for the sopping tea bag.

    “God morgen.” Both Francis and Arthur shiver. He has morning voice. He pours himself some coffee, quietly thanking Francis for making it. The three of them sit at the table, sipping silently at their beverages. When Berwald is halfway finished with his, he lifts his head up to look at his two lovers. He gives them a small smile, then bows his head again. Arthur is too flustered to speak, but Francis takes the opportunity to launch into a romantic narrative.

    “I love that feeling I get when you smile. No one sees it often, so it’s already special when we get graced by it so easily. But it’s more than that. Much more. It’s like flowers bloom in my stomach, releasing butterflies with them. They flutter around before landing on my heart.” Berwald buries his face in his mug, obviously embarrassed. Arthur decides to join in on making him blush.

    “Your smile makes me feel like I can fly. It’s a gift to receive one, and it makes me light headed. It makes me lighter than air.” Berwald turns his head away from them, but they can see his blush travelling down his neck. “And you,” he turns his attention to Francis, who is taken aback by the sudden change in person. “Your smile makes me warm inside. I get all flustered without any reason. And I hate that I don’t know how to respond, because you deserve to know how I feel.” The Frenchman bites his bottom lip, trying his hardest to refrain from smiling.

    “And your smile makes me feel like I’m dreaming. It’s too good to be true. But it is. Both of you are with me. It’s a dream I hope to never awaken from.” Arthur clears his throat loudly, taking a long sip of his tea. When he finishes, only his ears show a slight hint of the blush he hid. Berwald takes a hand each, and gives them another smile.

    “B’th of your sm’les m’ke me feel l’ke ev’ryth’ng is going t’ be okej. Du br’ng me so m’ch joy, it c’n be h’rd t’ handle it. B’t I w’ldn’t ch’nge it f’r the w’rld.” He kisses both of them on the top of their head. They glance at each other, and hop up, both trying to be the first to give Berwald a good morning kiss. Francis pretends to be pushed aside, and watches happily as Berwald and Arthur share a kiss. Then, he kisses Berwald. Neither of them linger long, or get too intimate. He’s still not finished his coffee, after all.

[happyflappymoscowbirbpleyyn]

Helping Hand

Prompt: tea/coffee - “I love that feeling I get when you smile.”

pairing: 2P!Denmark/2P!Finland

@nordicrareshipsweek

Leevi had hardly been known as the nicest, along with Tómas. That doesn’t seem to be the case with Mikkel. He knew of Mikkel’s past and all the pain he went through both physically and mentally. That’s why he did his best to not show anger in front of Mikkel, for risk of setting him off. However, today was different. Mikkel had come to him with tears in his eyes asking if he could stay over for a while. He’d do anything to make sure his boyfriend was safe and feeling like he mattered. That’s how Mikkel ended up sleeping in his bed with a bear plushie Leevi had made last minute out of an old towel and some fluff he got at the store. There’s also a couple button eyes he’d stitched on. Mikkel had watched him make it and hugged it tightly when it was finished.

A gentle kiss was pressed to Mikkel’s cheek. On the way to the kitchen, Leevi thought about what Mikkel had told him the night before. There was a fight going on at home and he was brought up multiple times. Mikkel had gotten out of there before anything serious could happen to him. Leevi thanked the old gods that he got out of there when he did. Didn’t want to know what would’ve happened. Something has to be done about his parents. He didn’t seem to notice he was staring at the coffee machine until a sleepy sound was made from behind him. Looking in the direction, he found Mikkel was awake and hugging the bear he made. That sleepy expression is adorable.

“Morning, sleepyhead. Tea or coffee?” Purple eyes of Mikkel look at the blond Finn. Red eyes looked back at him. “Do you have hot chocolate?” Mikkel asked a bit shyly. “Of course. I’ll get right on it.” Leevi got to making hot chocolate for Mikkel. When it was finished, he handed it to the Dane, whom happily took it from him. “You feeling better?” Leevi asked and sat at the table. Mikkel sat next to him, keeping his bear in his lap. “A bit. Thanks for letting me stay here.” Leevi gently pulled Mikkel’s face to look at him. “You’re my boyfriend. I’d do anything for you. I love you.” Mikkel’s cheeks flushed red. Setting his hot chocolate on the table, Mikkel pulled Leevi in for a hug. What did he do to deserve the Finn? Leevi smiled a bit and returned the hug.

Each day that passed, Leevi prepared a mug of hot chocolate for Mikkel before he woke up. A faint smile crossed his face each time he saw the happy smile that crossed Mikkel’s face when he was handed to mug. Seeing him happy made him happy. Made his heart flutter. Mikkel was happy to see Leevi going out of his way to do so just for him. One morning, Mikkel noticed Leevi wasn’t there, but there was his hot chocolate and a note. The note said that he had something to take care of and he’d be back within the hour. What was he doing? As the hour passed by, Mikkel waited for him to show up. When he did it was when Mikkel was laying on his stomach on the couch and using his phone. Leevi just kind of flopped on top of him. Mikkel looked over his shoulder at the other blond.

“Where were you?” He asked. “First I took care of your parents. Then I went to pick something up,” Leevi responded. “What did you get?” A small black box was placed in front of the Dane. Curious, Mikkel opened it to reveal an engagement ring with amethyst in the middle. Purple eyes widen when he saw it. What? “You mean everything to me, Mikkel. I don’t want to lose you. I-” “Yes.” Red eyes look at Mikkel to see him rubbing at an eye. Arms wrap around Mikkel and he shifted so he could hug Leevi.

[happyflappymoscowbirbpleyyn]

Love

Prompt: Sleepover - “You have to accept that you are loved.”

Pairing: 2P!Denmark/2P!Finland

@nordicrareshipsweek

Two weeks into the engagement and Mikkel and Leevi had adopted a kid. The kid had come from Finland. A little girl by the name of Kaisa. She’d taken an immediate liking to Mikkel, something that caught him off guard. Leevi smiled at seeing the interaction between Kasia and Mikkel. Nowadays it’s been another two weeks since she was adopted and she was having a sleepover with some friends she made at school. One by one, as the kids arrived, Mikkel would hand them a snack. Each kid smiled and thanked him. Afterwards Kaisa said he’s the best far ever. Far is Danish for dad. Mikkel paused for a moment and blushed lightly. Kaisa saw this and hugged Mikkel. He returned the hug. Leevi smiled a bit. They’re cute together. Soon Kaisa went to play with her friends. Leevi then joined Mikkel and took hold of his hand. Mikkel squeezed Leevi’s hand.

“I knew you’d make a great father,” Leevi said. Purple eyes look at Leevi. “Kaisa loves it here and you seem to be a major contributor of that.” Mikkel sighed and glanced away a bit. “I don’t know. I like being her dad and all, but I don’t feel like I’m the reason she likes it here.” “I’m not giving up on you.” A kiss was pressed to Mikkel’s cheek. “You’ll see one day.” “Um... Mr. Winther?” Purple eyes look to see one of Kaisa’s friends. “Sigrid, right?” The girl nodded. “What do you need?” Mikkel asked and got to her level. “Do you... have a blanket? I can’t sleep without one.” “Of course. Let me go get it.” Standing up, Mikkel freed his hand from Leevi’s hold before he went to find a blanket for Sigrid. When he came back a few minutes later, he was carrying a red blanket. He found Leevi holding Sigrid. She reached for the blanket as soon as she saw it. It was handed to her. “Thank you.” “Not a problem.” Sigrid was set down and she scampered off t join the rest of the girls.

The next day, after everyone else left and it was night time, Kaisa climbed into Mikkel and Leevi’s bed, curled up to Mikkel and said, “I love you, far. You’re so nice and fun to be around.” Mikkel looked at his daughter. “Yeah?” She nodded. “And the best part is that you love me for who I am and not who I should’ve been.” Blue eyes look up at him. “You really are the best, far. You and isä.” “Told you you’re the reason she loves being here.” Both Mikkel and Kasia look at the door to see Leevi leaning against the frame. “Now will you accept that you are?” Mikkel hugged Kaisa close. “For her I will.” This brought a smile to the girl’s face. Kaisa cuddled up to Mikkel. “The best far ever. I can’t wait until you two are married.” A kiss was pressed to Kaisa’s head. Leevi joined the duo in bed. “He really is.”