So, I’m not sure whether Christmas Eve will end with bloodshed or ambulances or both, but this can’t be good.
Trust Chel not to keep her big yap shut.
I had her and Feliks over to hang out and while we were in the kitchen Dad came to spy check up on us.
“Will it be different cooking for five this year?” Chel asked him brightly as my stomach dropped.
Dad’s eyebrows lowered suspiciously. “What do you mean, ‘five’?”
I was giving Chel quit it motions like a mime on speed, but either she didn’t see me, or she totally ignored me. Al grinned, eating his pretzels like he was at the movies, obviously waiting for the carnage.
“Oh, about how Feliks is coming over for dinner,” she continued.
One of his eyebrows slowly raised as he looked at my boyfriend. “Oh he is, is he?”
Chel then had the audacity to glare at me. “You didn’t tell him, did you?”
“I was getting around to it,” I whined.
Feliks however, just grinned, that mischievous look in his eye. “Of course I am, Dad. But don’t worry, I won’t stay the night. It shouldn’t take much more than a half an hour.”
Dad’s scowled deepened. “What won’t?” he asked.
Feliks just winked at him, then gave me a suggestive look. I put my face in my hand, not sure whether I should be worried, amused, or embarrassed, but seemingly willing to do all three at once.
Dad’s face turned bright red.
“Oooh, here it comes,” Al commentaried, looking excited.
“Shut it, Al,” I growled.
But to both of our surprise, Dad didn’t yell. Instead, his expression took on that sly look that meant he thought he was being cunning.
“Well, Feliks, you do know that we tend to have authentic British food on Christmas Eve,” he noted calmly.
“We do?” Al and I chorused, but shut up when Dad glared.
He turned back to Feliks with a smile that didn’t quite reach his death-dealing eyes. “We’re having tripe.”
Al and I made gagging noises.
Feliks however, just smiled. “I totally love tripe! Don’t boil it too long, though. It, like, totally loses all its flavour.”
Dad’s smile grew thin. “Of course not. Actually, we like it a little green.”
Feliks wasn’t the relenting type, though. “Maybe I can bring some of my mother’s special meatballs. You haven’t tasted delicious until you’ve had sheep’s brain wrapped in ground turkey.”
“I think I just threw up in my mouth a little,” Al said, looking a little green.
“Uncle Scot made us try haggis once,” I commented, trying to break the tension between Dad and Feliks.
“Yes, haggis, another great meal,” Dad said.
“But you hated it and called Uncle Scot a no good –” I cut off abruptly when Dad gave me the stink-eye.
“I look forward to eating Matthew’s cultural foods,” Feliks smirked at Dad.
“I put gravy and cheese on fries,” I muttered, mostly to myself as I doubted anyone was listening. “That’s as cultural as I get.”
I talked to Papa and told him that I didn’t care if he had to tie Dad up if necessary, Dad was under no circumstances allowed to prepare Christmas Eve dinner. Papa agreed wholeheartedly with me.
Then he said something about nostalgia and silk ropes and I stopped listening lest my brain melt.
December 22
Dohoho, Al.
So I’m sitting on the chesterfield, watching TV, minding my own business when suddenly Al plops down beside me.
“How did you get Feliks to be your boyfriend?” he asked.
“I didn’t,” I replied dryly. “He blackmailed me into it.” Then my brain kind of caught up with what he said, and I turned to give him a suspicious look. “Why?”
He refused to look at me. “No reason.”
I could feel the smile slowly spreading across my face, but I was helpless to stop it. “You like someone, don’t you?”
“No!” he spluttered.
My grin grew wider. “Aw, does wittle Ally-wally have a wittle cwush?”
“You are about two seconds away from a hardcore beating.”
I made some kissing noises at him.
On the bright side of things, it was one of our lesser destructive fights. We only managed some minor bruising, bending the arm of Al’s glasses, and knocking the couch over backwards.
Papa stormed in and dragged us apart, snarling colourfully in French before sending us both to our rooms.
My lip is swollen, but I still can’t stop giggling.
Polish anon here :) We don't eat meat on Christmas Eve, but there is many traditional dishes for this day. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christmas_in_Poland http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wigilia
maybe it will help you a bit with random Polish traditions
I love this story and I never thought that I became such big fan of Can/Pol ;) I can't wait for more !
So I am very very new to this fandom - we're talking less than a week (not fandom in general, I hasten to add. Just the greatness that is Axis Powers Hetalia).
YOU!
YOU HAVE MADE ME LOVE CANADA. YOU HAVE MADE ME LOVE POLAND. YOU HAVE MADE ME LOVE CANADA/POLAND.
This fill is GENIUS. Possibility of Al/Liet is too much for me to take. Dad!Arthur and Papa!Francis are perfect. Matt's manly crying and general sensitivity is just adorable (Sorry, Matt!).
"YOU MEAN SO MUCH TO ME." BEAUTIFUL.
Also, the writing is great! It's very well presented and easy to follow. Excellent job! I shall certainly be checking back very often to see if you've updated this! :D
You know, I usually hate my US History homework, but when the book mentioned how Britain gained Canada in the Treaty of Paris, it reminded to check to see if this fic had been updated.
This fic = pure brilliance. Seriously, ILU so much! Every other line has me literally laughing out loud!
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Are you there God? It's me, Canada. [36/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-09-12 06:18 am (UTC)(link)So, I’m not sure whether Christmas Eve will end with bloodshed or ambulances or both, but this can’t be good.
Trust Chel not to keep her big yap shut.
I had her and Feliks over to hang out and while we were in the kitchen Dad came to
spycheck up on us.“Will it be different cooking for five this year?” Chel asked him brightly as my stomach dropped.
Dad’s eyebrows lowered suspiciously. “What do you mean, ‘five’?”
I was giving Chel quit it motions like a mime on speed, but either she didn’t see me, or she totally ignored me. Al grinned, eating his pretzels like he was at the movies, obviously waiting for the carnage.
“Oh, about how Feliks is coming over for dinner,” she continued.
One of his eyebrows slowly raised as he looked at my boyfriend. “Oh he is, is he?”
Chel then had the audacity to glare at me. “You didn’t tell him, did you?”
“I was getting around to it,” I whined.
Feliks however, just grinned, that mischievous look in his eye. “Of course I am, Dad. But don’t worry, I won’t stay the night. It shouldn’t take much more than a half an hour.”
Dad’s scowled deepened. “What won’t?” he asked.
Feliks just winked at him, then gave me a suggestive look. I put my face in my hand, not sure whether I should be worried, amused, or embarrassed, but seemingly willing to do all three at once.
Dad’s face turned bright red.
“Oooh, here it comes,” Al commentaried, looking excited.
“Shut it, Al,” I growled.
But to both of our surprise, Dad didn’t yell. Instead, his expression took on that sly look that meant he thought he was being cunning.
“Well, Feliks, you do know that we tend to have authentic British food on Christmas Eve,” he noted calmly.
“We do?” Al and I chorused, but shut up when Dad glared.
He turned back to Feliks with a smile that didn’t quite reach his death-dealing eyes. “We’re having tripe.”
Al and I made gagging noises.
Feliks however, just smiled. “I totally love tripe! Don’t boil it too long, though. It, like, totally loses all its flavour.”
Dad’s smile grew thin. “Of course not. Actually, we like it a little green.”
Feliks wasn’t the relenting type, though. “Maybe I can bring some of my mother’s special meatballs. You haven’t tasted delicious until you’ve had sheep’s brain wrapped in ground turkey.”
“I think I just threw up in my mouth a little,” Al said, looking a little green.
“Uncle Scot made us try haggis once,” I commented, trying to break the tension between Dad and Feliks.
“Yes, haggis, another great meal,” Dad said.
“But you hated it and called Uncle Scot a no good –” I cut off abruptly when Dad gave me the stink-eye.
“I look forward to eating Matthew’s cultural foods,” Feliks smirked at Dad.
“I put gravy and cheese on fries,” I muttered, mostly to myself as I doubted anyone was listening. “That’s as cultural as I get.”
I talked to Papa and told him that I didn’t care if he had to tie Dad up if necessary, Dad was under no circumstances allowed to prepare Christmas Eve dinner. Papa agreed wholeheartedly with me.
Then he said something about nostalgia and silk ropes and I stopped listening lest my brain melt.
December 22
Dohoho, Al.
So I’m sitting on the chesterfield, watching TV, minding my own business when suddenly Al plops down beside me.
“How did you get Feliks to be your boyfriend?” he asked.
“I didn’t,” I replied dryly. “He blackmailed me into it.” Then my brain kind of caught up with what he said, and I turned to give him a suspicious look. “Why?”
He refused to look at me. “No reason.”
I could feel the smile slowly spreading across my face, but I was helpless to stop it. “You like someone, don’t you?”
“No!” he spluttered.
My grin grew wider. “Aw, does wittle Ally-wally have a wittle cwush?”
“You are about two seconds away from a hardcore beating.”
I made some kissing noises at him.
On the bright side of things, it was one of our lesser destructive fights. We only managed some minor bruising, bending the arm of Al’s glasses, and knocking the couch over backwards.
Papa stormed in and dragged us apart, snarling colourfully in French before sending us both to our rooms.
My lip is swollen, but I still can’t stop giggling.
Can't wait to tell Feliks!
Re: Are you there God? It's me, Canada. [36/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-09-12 06:48 am (UTC)(link)<3 another wonderful chapter, author!anon.
Re: Are you there God? It's me, Canada. [36/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-09-12 07:29 am (UTC)(link)Oh, Al~ I saw that coming.
Re: Are you there God? It's me, Canada. [36/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-09-12 04:31 pm (UTC)(link)I'm so glad you're updating this anon :)
Re: Are you there God? It's me, Canada. [36/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-09-12 05:03 pm (UTC)(link)AL IS SO ADORABLE GAH.
Re: Are you there God? It's me, Canada. [36/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-09-13 12:45 am (UTC)(link)We don't eat meat on Christmas Eve, but there is many traditional dishes for this day.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Christmas_in_Poland
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Wigilia
maybe it will help you a bit with random Polish traditions
I love this story and I never thought that I became such big fan of Can/Pol ;)
I can't wait for more !
Re: Are you there God? It's me, Canada. [36/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-09-13 12:58 am (UTC)(link)Uncle Scot=Scotland? xD
Loving this so hard Author Anon.My friend loves you too~
Re: Are you there God? It's me, Canada. [36/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-09-13 08:32 pm (UTC)(link)Al has a crush on Toris~
And mentioning "Uncle Scot?" Epic win.
I hardly have to words to describe my love for this.
(Anonymous) 2009-09-14 06:02 pm (UTC)(link)YOU!
YOU HAVE MADE ME LOVE CANADA.
YOU HAVE MADE ME LOVE POLAND.
YOU HAVE MADE ME LOVE CANADA/POLAND.
This fill is GENIUS. Possibility of Al/Liet is too much for me to take. Dad!Arthur and Papa!Francis are perfect. Matt's manly crying and general sensitivity is just adorable (Sorry, Matt!).
"YOU MEAN SO MUCH TO ME." BEAUTIFUL.
Also, the writing is great! It's very well presented and easy to follow. Excellent job! I shall certainly be checking back very often to see if you've updated this! :D
Re: Are you there God? It's me, Canada. [36/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-09-14 09:16 pm (UTC)(link)Keep rockin'.
Re: Are you there God? It's me, Canada. [36/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-09-16 08:34 am (UTC)(link)POUTINE. <3
Re: Are you there God? It's me, Canada. [36/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-09-18 03:10 am (UTC)(link)This fic = pure brilliance. Seriously, ILU so much! Every other line has me literally laughing out loud!
Re: Are you there God? It's me, Canada. [36/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-09-18 03:16 am (UTC)(link)Yay! An update!
I love this fic to pieces! ♥
Can´t wait to see if Al and Toris get together! :D
Re: Are you there God? It's me, Canada. [36/?]
(Anonymous) 2009-09-20 11:21 am (UTC)(link)neeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeed
moaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaar