Hetalia kink meme (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hetalia_kink) wrote2012-06-03 02:47 pm
hetalia_kink) wrote2012-06-03 02:47 pm
Hetalia Kink meme part 15
axis powers
hetalia kink meme
part 15
hetalia kink meme
part 15
Ahh yeah that is the super duper delayed Christmas reveal for 2009 LOL...just found the time to finish it now...
clean wallpaper version HERE
clean wallpaper version HERE
Re: Funny Girl 3/5
(Anonymous) 2011-01-15 09:11 am (UTC)(link)At seven-thirty, standing alone in the lobby of Noma in a freshly pressed blazer, Netherlands begins to wonder if he has been stood up. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the staff growing impatient with his attempts to stall in order to keep their reservation (the one under her name) and his insistence that his friend must just be stuck in traffic. He does his best to stay out of their hair, but being a single man standing alone by the doors, glaring out the glass, is not his finest technique and as he checks his watch for what must be the hundredth time, the concierge approaches him with a waning smile.
“Sir,” she says, nodding toward the door. “Have you heard from your partner at all?”
He sighs loudly and shakes his head. “No, she’s not pickin’ up her phone.”
“Ah, well, I’m afraid we can’t hold the reservation any longer.” She looks nervous under his frown. “There is a wait list, you see…”
He doesn’t hear her finish the end of her sentence. He’s too distracted by the crash that comes from hall behind her and the mess of pink tulle that stumbles into the lobby in its wake. Clinging to the wall above a shattered vase, face turned down, a tall blonde wobbles into the waiting space, reminding Netherlands very much of a baby horse learning to walk by the way she shuffles along, legs far too long for the dress she’s wearing and obviously uncomfortable in heels. She curses and scoots down the wall, stooped against it as she tries to gather up the pieces of broken pottery, and Netherlands gets to her before the awkward waitress can.
“Here,” he kneels down next to her and shoos her hands away. “Let me get that for… you…”
The words curl up and die in his mouth as the blonde finally turns to face him, eyes bugging out like an owl caught in a tornado. Eyes that are wearing way too much shadow. Eyes that have false lashes half attached.
Eyes that he knows very, very well.
“Den?”
“Ooooh, shit, um…” her gaze flits to the waitress then back to him. “What’s up, ‘land?”
He blinks at her. “You’re late.”
“Yeah, about that.” She coughs and when she tries to straighten up, her knees quake dangerously. “Sorry. Lost track of the time.”
Netherlands rises as well and takes a step back. “You look… different.”
Understatement of the millennium. Denmark, of all people, is wearing a dress. A bright pink, fluffy, satin dress that was obviously made for someone much shorter than her, with just as pink high-heels that look like they would be much better suited to fooling around in the bedroom than dining in one of the most acclaimed restaurants in the world. She has it matched with jewelry—big jewelry. The earrings look like they weigh as much as her purse (purse!?) does and he is pretty sure he could chain up his bike with the necklace she has tangled up in her hair.
Oh.
Her hair.
“What did you do to your hair?”
She looks sheepish. “Brushed it?”
To say the least. It looks like she tried to curl it in some places but the ringlets never took, leaving her with lumpy, uneven waves in the ends and stiff looking comb-tracks in her bangs where she has attempted to clip her unruly locks down with plastic barrettes.
He stares at her.
She stares at him.
She looks…
“Um, sir? Ma’am?” The waitress snaps him back to, what he hopes, is real life, and gestures to the dining room. “If you want to keep your reservation, we’ll have to seat you now.”
“Oh! Right!” Denmark takes a careful step forward, holding both arms out at her sides like she is walking across a balance beam and not a polished floor. “Sorry ‘bout that!”
She teeters gracelessly and Netherlands sighs, placing one hand on the small of her back and grabbing her wrist with the other, steering her to follow the waitress. As soon as they are within sight, every other patron in the restaurant gawks at her and her flamboyant gown. She must notice their staring, for a moment later she turns her chin up, setting her jaw and gliding between the tables, putting on a show of poise and elegance.
For all of about one second.
Re: Funny Girl 4/5
(Anonymous) 2011-01-15 09:12 am (UTC)(link)The waitress stands, embarrassed, while Netherlands pulls out Denmark’s chair. Once they are both seated, she places the course menus down for them. “I’ll just go get that bottle of wine you reserved, ma’am,” she says, a bit too collected to be genuine. “I’ll be back in just a moment.”
As soon as she’s gone, Netherlands nearly falls across the table laughing. “Holy shit, Denmark, what are you doin’?” He leans back and gestures to her. “What is all this?”
She scowls and snatches up her menu. “It’s a nice place! Y’gotta look nice!”
“Den, every time we’ve gone out for a nice meal, you’ve worn exactly what I’m wearin’.” He points to his blazer. “I’ve never seen you wear a dress before. And I knew you in the godddamn renaissance.”
She doesn’t look up and shifts, tugging her bodice up. “What am I, on trial? It’s not a big deal or anything.” She slaps her menu down and grabs the hem of dress and yanks on it with both hands.
“Problem?”
“It won’t stay up.”
He stares at her. “It’s a strapless dress.”
“I know that.”
“So, why’d you wear it then? You’ve got about as much chance of holdin’ up a strapless dress as I do.”
She clenches her jaw and glares at him. “If you must know, it used to have straps on it, but they wouldn’t go on right because my shoulders were too wide, so I cut them off because I thought it would look better. But then it wouldn’t stay on so I called Ukraine, because she always wears strapless dresses, and she said I should use double-sided tape to help keep it up, but now I just have tape everywhere and it’s makin’ my nipples itch.”
Netherlands blinks placidly. “Your nipples.”
“Are you deaf or something?”
“Aren’t ya wearin’ a bra?”
“A what?”
He has to bite his tongue. It’s just all too much.
Denmark grabs a hunk of bread and bites into it. “Nothin’ wrong with dressin’ up…” she grumbles, unknowingly spitting crumbs onto the white tablecloth. “It’s, y’know. Fun, or whatever.”
“Right.” Netherlands coughs into his fist. “Well, you, uh…” He clears his throat. “Ya look good, Den. Real pretty.”
She turns her eyes up and faces him. “Really?”
She has butter on her face.
“Yeah…”
A break of silence.
“This is really awkward, huh?”
“Extremely.”
“People are starin’, aren’t they?”
“There’s not a single person here who isn’t lookin’ at ya.”
“Probably not ‘cause they like the dress.”
“Probably not.”
She sighs and drops the remaining bread back into the basket. “Can we go?”
“Yeah.” He bends under the table and picks up the shoes she discarded as soon as they were seated. “I’ve got a change of clothes in my car.”
--
After a quick change in the backseat of Netherlands’ car, they drive to the waterfront where Denmark pads across the grass in her bare feet to wash her face in the drinking fountain by the bike path. She scrubs at the makeup with her hands, but without the aid of soap, she just manages to smear it around and gives up after her cheeks start to get raw. She ties her hair up with a rubber band found in Netherlands’ jeans, and by the time they sit down on the bench in the park, she’s starting to look like her old self again.
She’s being too quiet, though.
“You okay?”
She sighs and puts down the piece of bread she’s been nibbling on since pilfering it from the restaurant in her purse. “Yeah.” She tears off the crust and tosses it in the water for the ducks to chase. “I just feel really stupid about this.”
He hums in understanding and leans back, one arm casually rested on the back of the bench. “I think ya took the dress code a little too literally.”
Denmark huffs and stuffs the last of the bread into her mouth, chewing angrily. “I just wanted to try lookin’ good for once.” She scrubs her fingers through her hair. “I even went and got highlights. Whatever that means.”
“Is this because of what Prussia said the other day?” He asks, cautious, aware that it’s a sore issue.
“No,” she snaps.
He stares at her.
Re: Funny Girl 5/6
(Anonymous) 2011-01-15 09:14 am (UTC)(link)He nods. “Is that why you were late?”
“Yeah.”
“I don’t get it.” He sits up and turns, just a bit, so that he can face her. “Does it really bug you this much? You’ve never cared what people think of you before, so why the change?”
She pauses for a moment, looking down at her feet. “I don’t care what other people think.”
“So then what’s the problem?”
She shoots him an unamused frown. “I already made an ass of myself once tonight. I ain’t doin’ it again.”
“Den…” he warns.
She growls and flops over against him, knocking her head into his shoulder. “C’mon, ‘land. Gimme a break. You’re my best friend, y’know? I don’t want to fuck anything up.”
That catches his attention. “Well, fuck, Den, you’re my best friend too. That’s why I want to know why this is bugging ya so much.” He loops an arm around her shoulders and gives her a firm squeeze. “If something’s upsetting you, I wanna know what it is.”
She turns her face up and looks at him, mascara smudged around her eyes and lines of lipstick stuck into the dry cracks of her lips, studying him for a few seconds. “I don’t care if everybody else thinks I’m pretty,” she says. “I just wanted you to think so.”
Oh.
Ohh.
“Wait, so you put that dress on for me?”
She groans and buries her face in her hands. “I know, I know. It’s lame.”
He can’t help himself. He feels awful about it, but he just can’t handle it and bursts out laughing. The kind of laughter that he can’t even begin to hide; the kind that makes his stomach hurt and his eyes water. Denmark looks mortified for a split second before she shoves away from him and punches him square in the jaw, knocking him off of the bench still in complete hysterics. She starts to stalk back in the direction of the car, but Netherlands manages to haul himself upright fast enough to catch her arm and drag her back.
“Wait, wait, wait,” he snorts. He tries to compose himself—fails. “Siddown, hold on.”
“You’re an asshole, ‘land.” She sits down with a huff. “Never shoulda gotten dressed up for you.” She kicks his knees. “I even shaved my armpits, you dick.”
He clamps his teeth around his tongue and swallows the next wave of cackles before they can escape, dropping an arm on her shoulder, prompting her to stay seated. “You’ve got it all wrong, idiot.” He inhales to get his breath back and straightens up. “I’m laughin’ because you really thought I’d be into somethin’ like that.”
Denmark’s eyes narrow and she squints at him. “Whadya mean?”
“I mean,” he sits down next to her. “You’re stupid for thinkin’ I’d like ya any more than I already do by bein’ somethin’ you’re not.” He gestures to all of her. “You’re fine the way ya are, Den. If ya wanted my attention, you coulda just asked.”
She gapes at him. “Are you serious?”
“’Course I’m serious. Besides,” he leans back and fishes a pack of cigarettes out of his coat. “You’re taller than me when ya wear heels. S’weird.” He offers her a smoke and waits for her to take one before continuing. “Next time ya want a date, just be up front about it. We can go sailing or somethin’.”
Denmark blinks at him. Netherlands reaches out and peels the false eyelashes off.
“Wait, so…” she recoils slightly. “You’re not mad? About me likin’ ya?”
He reaches over and lights her cigarette. “Denmark, we’ve been havin’ sex with each other for over a hundred years. I was under the impression we were already somethin’ like together.”
Re: Funny Girl 6/6
(Anonymous) 2011-01-15 09:15 am (UTC)(link)Her newly waxed eyebrows come together and she stares at him. He uses the tip of one finger to close her jaw enough to keep the cigarette from falling out. For a moment, she does nothing but look at him and he begins to wonder if maybe he handled this whole situation wrong, but her face breaks out in a wide grin and she socks him in the shoulder, nearly knocking him sideways, and blows smoke into the night air.
“You’re such a bastard!” She laughs. “Why didn’t ya ever say anything? This has been killing me for years!”
He shrugs and rights himself. “Never had a reason too. Like I said, I already thought we were together.” He crosses his index and middle fingers, wiggling them in her face. “Pretty sure everyone else thinks so too.”
“I am so going to kick your ass when we get back to my house.”
He grins and slips an arm around her waist. “So, I’m stayin’ over tonight?”
“Yep.” She leans forward and snuffs out her cigarette on the edge of the bench. “But don’t get too excited. I’m just gonna break your face. Nothin’ else.”
“Haha.” He drawls. "Hilarious."
"What can I say?" She smirks and pulls him to his feet.
"I'm a funny girl."
-END-
Hi, my name is anon, and I suck at estimating my comment numbers!
I hope you liked it, OP!
Danish!Anon approves
(Anonymous) 2011-01-15 09:55 am (UTC)(link)I could really imagine her being that way, especially since there's really no way I could see Denmark as being a girly girl xD Ah..and the end was really cute. I think I might even be starting to like those two as a couple :P Great job!
Re: Funny Girl 6/6
(Anonymous) 2011-01-15 09:58 am (UTC)(link)God I love that Fem!mark is such a bro. Such. A. Bro. Because...well...yeah.
But no I was laughing so hard I had to get up and walk around for a sec. Dennnn you are fail, girl.
Also I was cringing through the entire dinner escapade between gulps of laughter.
You'd think Ukraine would've helped with the makeup.Re: Funny Girl 6/6
(Anonymous) 2011-01-15 05:19 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Funny Girl 6/6
(Anonymous) 2011-01-15 06:17 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Funny Girl 6/6
(Anonymous) 2011-01-17 08:53 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Funny Girl 6/6
(Anonymous) 2011-01-22 03:31 pm (UTC)(link)Definitely cute
(Anonymous) 2011-01-22 06:23 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Funny Girl 6/6
(Anonymous) 2011-02-20 04:41 am (UTC)(link)You definitely had me shipping them together, anon. <3333