I'm just a Writer

I've never tried this before but let's see how this works out :) **irregular posting and no real set schedule**

[2phetalia-imagines]

hi i love your blog

Thank you so much!! I’ve honestly kept seeing you reblogging and hearting and commenting on the posts, and I just kept thinking to myself: I need to find a way to throw confettis at them for all the love.

But also at the same time I wanted to stay instead my little hermit cave and just peek out every once in a while in silence and just ( ✌︎'ω')✌︎

[2phetalia-imagines]

hi; just wanted to say ily. 💕

1200 years later I appear

But no, I love you too, you sweet darling thing you

[2phetalia-imagines]

How would the 2p Axis react to their daughter bringing home their first boyfriend?

2p! Italy/ Luciano: 

Oh, that brave unfortunate soul 

Luciano is deceptively kind. 

He is the sort of man who can happily sit down beside a person with a sincere expression, smile warm and welcoming, chattering as if he wasn’t a stranger, as if they had been friends forever and then with no warning -

A gurgle, the sound of something snapping and hitting the floor. 

That sincere happy smile still on his face unmarred by the struggling body on the ground, reaching helplessly towards the door. 

I suppose one can say, he is the most possessive of the lot.

2p! Germany/ Lutz:

Lutz is a little more mellow than Luciano, in terms that he won’t immediately gut the boyfriend like a parasite.

Mostly because he knows that he can’t keep his daughter locked away forever, that it would be unkind to do so, to cage her that way. Because in the end, to do so, she would go behind his back out of frustration, and he doesn’t want that.

Frustration leads to bad choices, and he wants her as safe as she can be. 

So instead he prefers sit back, watch, listen, and analysis. 

If they guy turns out to be decent, Lutz will hiss under his breath but grudgingly step back to allow the relationship.

If he isn’t… well, he is friends with Luciano.

2p! Japan/ Kuro:

Kuro honestly looks like the type who would be more likely to strangle the boyfriend once his daughter is out of the room. 

It’s just that dark tunnel effect of his eyes, as if he’s looking straight through you, judging and finding nothing worthwhile. 

But he is, surprisingly, the calmest about it all.

Kuro will be dismayed over the fact his little girl was growing up, but he would respect her choice, his belief that she understands how precious she is and thus could make a choice of finding someone worthy enough to cherish her as she is meant to be cherished, the greatest reason he is the easiest out of everyone. 

But god help him if that boy ever hurts his little girl, Luciano will seem like an angel in comparison to Kuro’s retaliation

[2phetalia-imagines]

hi darling! are you still accepting matchups? <3

I don't really have a limit on requests, in all honesty. Go wild.

[2phetalia-imagines]

To our sweet Anon, I hope you enjoy this sweetie, you have been shipped with Oliver!

Whether it be your love of baking, your adorable singing and fluid dancing, the dad jokes and puns or awkward but flirtatious ways, you have stolen this man's heart completely.

He's a sweet man with a big heart and he certainly is the type to think of you before you even think about yourself, oddly enough. Sometimes it is a bit over the top, and sometimes you believe he's a crazy man in pink and blues and confetti falling everywhere, but there is a certain thoughtfulness in the way he does things, no matter how it may seem. It gives this sort of feeling at the very end, a feeling and a thought that tells you – Hey. I feel a little better now.

Now I must say that if Franqúis is a bloodhound on finding out if there is sickness in his vicinity than Oliver is a bloodhound on emotions. So know you can't escape him. But don't fret, he's not the demanding sort. As said before, Oliver will think of you before you ever think of yourself and if you don't wish to say, then he will not pry. Instead he will do what he can to make you comfortable and happy. He lives for your happiness and your smiles are the special moment of his days.

But sometimes we don't have those happy days.

On those days, those sad days where you would lay awake... Oliver will sit a comfortable distance from you. He won't speak and he will keep his body and hands in your vision, moving slowly with no sudden movements when he brings extra blankets and perchance your favorite drink or snack. He will simply stay with you until you felt safe enough to sleep.

Though maybe you want him to speak, on the nights you refused to sleep at all, you will make a motion or a look or a word, and Oliver will open his mouth and tell you about his day. He'll tell you to the very last detail what person entered the shop or what things he bought or what he put into the things he made that morning or the night before. Sometimes you just enjoyed listening.

Now the first time you two met... it was at a meet-and-great bake sale. It had caught your eye and you found yourself maneuvering through the stalls and people. Then with no warning Oliver had suddenly appeared, guiding you towards his own little location stall, somehow finding a way to kindly insult everyone else too (a few years down the road you'll find yourself with Allen and Mattie who are laughing hysterically, informing you that yes. Oliver was telling you that everyone else was dog poop and to eat his damn baked goods so help him god).

After that he will have informed you of his bakery, and you decided that hey – it wouldn't be so bad having some sweets at the end of the week. Especially from this sweet looking man and his odd way of speaking.

The first time you realized..... it was a sudden thought, as sudden thoughts go, and while sitting at the living room table in Oliver's apartment it crossed your mind that you really liked his smile, his laughter, his warmth, and everything that was just so... Oliver (and maybe a bit because of those godly warm hugs). After that was simply a matter of how you confessed.

The beginnings of your relationship... was strangely not much of a difference from before the realization of your feelings and the very real struggle of opening up to Oliver.

I won't lie, despite the ease you both held for each other, there was always something holding one of you back.

For Oliver it was the silent and watchful glances he'd give you when you would stand alone – when he moved at your back and you would startle violently, turning and twisting away as if protecting yourself. That tired furrow of your brows that would twist down on your faraway, fear-filled eyes, and the terrified, strangled sound catching in your throat – he had a hard time asking. For you it was admitting anything, whether it be your feelings or even more than that (not wanting his pity and not wanting the fragile footsteps that you knew would come if you did say).

Eventually it will be said and Oliver will simply listen. He will listen and will be filled with a sudden burst of hate. Not for you, never for you, but for the person who made you feel this way even after all this time. Because that was the point, wasn't it? They made you scared and he wanted so badly, wished terribly that it had never happened to you. That you didn't have to feel this way. But he knows that is wishful thinking. He knows that wishing will do nothing for you, and so instead he will do what he can, to make those times easier.

He loves you after all.

The runner ups include.... Ion and Mattie!

[2phetalia-imagines]

Hi! I'm just dropping by to say you're amazing! Have a great day!

Thank you sweetie~! I hope you and everyone else here have a great day too! :)

[2phetalia-imagines]

Do you write for them as fathers?

I actually DO have an ask in my inbox requesting for a father headcanon for Luciano. So yes, I suppose I can/do.

[2phetalia-imagines]

A normally monotone s/o laughing for the first time

Here we have a surprise third none of you ever expected to appear! :D

2p! England/Oliver:

No one really knows how this relationship works, with one person brightly cheerful and the other a monotonous believer of life

It does, and Oliver has many sweet things to say (though no one is quiet certain if it’s true or not as you comment in the background in the most dead sort of tone. Should they laugh? Is this real? What should they DO?! Just nod and smile, boys. Just nod and smile)

The one thing he has never spoken about is your laughter, it’s not out of a desire to keep it to himself. Honestly, he’s just never really heard you laugh before.

That’s why he is so beside himself with shock when you see someone walk straight into a stop sign and laugh.

It wasn’t any sort of weird, broken laughter that Allen always joked about. Nor that quiet hum that he has heard from Kuro once or twice.

It was an honest to God laugh.

Pure and unadulterated as your whole frame shook, lips pulled into a giant smile, and eyes almost glittering.

Oliver cried and begged for you to do it again so he can tape it and show it off to everyone (you quickly switched the video with a scripted, painful laughter and watched as Oliver gushed to confused and uncertain friends. Ah. Chaos.)

2p! Japan/ Kuro:

Kuro and you are a surprising power couple, or as Lutz likes to say it: “the freakishly silent, mysterious couple you just know are going to murder you and rule the world”

It might be the eyes. It might be the silent stare. It might also be the monotonous sort of voice you both seem to answer with and watch gleefully as people wonder if this is an odd joke or you both really are just that strange.

One day you laughed.

No one knew why, one moment there was blissful chatter and then laughter.

It was a pleasant sort of laugh. The sort of laugh that made one pause and want to join in, to feel that same warm filled feeling of joy only laughter can bring.

A beautiful laugh.

That still didn’t stop people from wanting to ignore that single moment for the rest of their lives, and wonder (on the days when they just couldn’t help but think) if it was just a nightmarish figure of their imagination when you glimmered with joy next to Kuro.

Obviously if you ever laughed that happily and prettily, it must be because something had gone right, but horribly wrong for the victim (Kuro refused to mention he was showing off funny dog videos).

Nyo! Ukraine/Taras:

This is a relationship most are puzzled about.

Taras is like an overgrown puppy. Absolutely adorable.

So it was quite strange to see a peaceful, sort of person next to someone so… monotone, just shades of grays, you are.

But Taras loved you dearly, even when some of your humor went straight over his head – uncertain if you were joking or being truthful. Sometimes he got it, sometimes he didn’t. It was a long game of “I’m going to believe this until I’m proven wrong by Google”

The one thing Google could not help with was the wonderful, happy feeling he got when you laughed.

The first time it happened it was because Taras had accidentally tripped over his younger brothers dog, Marshmallow, and ended up falling face first in a comical spin of try to catch yourself with everything and everyone before hitting the floor.

It was a pretty laugh, the sort of laugh he wanted to listen to all day as it lit up your face, the sun in the background haloing the crown of your head.

He loves hearing your laughter, especially if he was the one to cause it.

[2phetalia-imagines]

Shout out to hetaliasecond

This is a new 2p! hetalia blog, and our wonderful mun here had messaged me (which I almost forgot was in my messenger, tumblr why do you not send me notifs?!) asking for a little shout out. It’s a bit late in all honesty, but everyone deserves some love, no matter how long it’s been, don’t you agree, sweeties?

GO SEND SOME LOVE.

[2phetalia-imagines]

Anon: Imagine where the reader is always really exited when they pass the pet store in order to meet their Boyfriend 2p Russia at the park across from the shop, but they has no time with work / school and can't afford it. One day their favorite puppy is gone and they're really bummed. Russia invites them back to his apartment for lunch and she's greeted with her favorite puppy .When the reader asks, he's like well, I needed company and you're always welcome to visit :) ( just wants to see them more)

I wanted to try a little different way of writing, but let’s see how it goes! Enjoy this experimental writing sweeties :)

There is a building across from the park.

An unassuming building with its grey cover and printed company title hanging just above the double window doors. There are many windows that allow others to peer in, too see the big eyed and adorable faces of baby animals. Or the more exotic creatures (compared to the fluffy puppies and cats and small little mice) that are to be cared for with great responsibility, such as the hedgehog, porcupine, or the reptiles with their unblinking eyes and scales.

There are also animals that have been rescued, wary eyes peering at the people who stared back at them, hearts beating fast but eagerly for another chance.

You always stopped to look at the animals, but nothing more so than a specific puppy. It was a fluffy thing with a grayish sort of coat mixed with browns and blacks, the fur practically enveloping the small body until it looked like nothing more but a large chocolate marshmallow. It often bounced around with no end in sight, dark eyes glimmering and muzzle opening into a wide beaming smile as it leaned against the window, the stubby paintbrush tail flapping side to side with its happiness. It was a little ball of sunshine and you wanted this puppy.

And you would HAVE HIM.

Even if you had to steal him.

Well, okay, maybe you wouldn't steal him, even as you despaired at the long hours of work as you stalked up on cash, you wanted the accomplishment of having earned the right for this puppy. To know you had worked hard and that your heart, tears, and sweat were given to have this beautiful, adorable little marshmallow. That didn't mean you stopped cursing over how expensive animals could be, wishing it wouldn't take so long to have this happy puppy for your own.

I can ask Ion for some help.

But you weren't entirely certain he would want to have a puppy.

The two of you were often busy with school and work (and honestly you were putting a dollar every other week into the savings, not much with all the rent and food and tuition) and what little time you both did have was for each other. Neither of you had the time or space to care for a puppy, especially one that would grow even bigger than the couch in the living room.

You shouldn't even be contemplating on buying the puppy.

Truly you were just a little too eager for an animal you couldn’t afford.

But it's such a cute puppy.

But do you really need a puppy?

I want that puppy.

BUT DO YOU NEED HIM?

HE'S SO ADORABLE THOUGH.

You groaned in dismay as you realized it was a battle. A battle you would lose with yourself. An ever losing battle every time you walked the small sidewalk towards the park (which just had to have a pet store right in front of the entrance where all the kiddies could spot them and beg their parents for a pet while their parents despaired over the injustice of listening to their children cry all the way home). You could see the building even from here, it's oddly tame structure compared to the other buildings around this area. You would see the puppy again and think: Soon. I shall have you and pet you, adorable marshmallow.

Yet as you neared the window, all you could see were the smaller puppies, golden and white furred and grey, but not that meshed brown, overgrown puppy.

Your heart dropped.

"No..."

The puppy is gone.

You almost cried.

Instead you sniffled a little, tugged the collar of your coat up to your cheeks, and walked stiffly across the road towards the park. It was the walk of shame mingled in with the heavy ache of a battle lost before it could ever start.  

Someone had bought the puppy. Someone had bought the puppy and now you will never see it again.

But maybe they live somewhere around here? Maybe they'll walk the puppy in the park and you'll be able to watch from afar like a betrayed lover as the puppy happily pranced around with its new owner, and then you'll weep at home and think of what could have been.

Everything that could have been.

Ion spotted you before you spotted him, too torn by the idea of never seeing the puppy or seeing the puppy and crying while eating ice cream, that you never noticed his call and the confusion when all you did was stand there thinking of all the What If's.

The betrayal is already real.

One would think a person would feel more like this if the boyfriend had cheated or something similar, but sorry not sorry Ion. The heart has already been given to The Puppy.

Ion was an absolute sweetheart though.

He already could see the sadness, even if he didn’t truly understand what had caused it. Instead of trying to pry immediately he instead, calmly asked if you wished to visit his house, to have lunch, to speak together. In all honesty all you wanted was to run home and ask God why he couldn't let you have the puppy.

IT WAS SUCH A FLUFFY PUPPY!

"Yeah... okay."

Ion smiled and for a moment you wanted to climb a small tree and smack him.

How dare he be happy when you were filled with sadness!

You refrained in the name of love.

It absolutely had nothing to do with the marshmallow puppy. Of course not.

(Lies.)

¤ Ω ¤

"Do you mind grabbing the remote from my room? I left it in there by accident."

Ion, you fool, only an idiot would leave the remote in a room where there isn't a TV.

You trudged through the small hallway, listening to Ion in the kitchen, his entire being seemingly puffed up more proudly than he should be.

His room wasn't that large, so it would only take just moments to find the remote, especially with his strange, and almost blank neatness of his room. It might even just be on the dresser, sitting innocently next to a picture of Ion and his family.

The door creaked open and without warning a barreling monster of fur tackled you. You shrieked as it began to lick and bark and pad all over your sprawled form. Your hands quickly cupped over the mouth of the creature, feeling the wet nose and the small barely grown teeth poking out from the gums of an open mouth.

You stared into glimmering dark eyes, blinked, and then shrieked.

"MY MARSHMALLOW!"

Ion peeked from around the corner of the kitchen, spotted a happy puppy and an even happier girlfriend. He slowly returned to the food, listening as you shrieked, “FLUFFY MARSHMALLOW, I LOVE YOU.”

[2phetalia-imagines]

Hi, I’m so so sorry that it took so long to reply back, but I really liked my matchup, you did a good job on it and I liked reading in the tag a bit about why you chose the other possible matches too. I’m very thankful that you accepted my matchup, it made me happy and smile (I was grinning from ear to ear reading it). Thank you again. :)

I’m glad you enjoyed it! :)

[2phetalia-imagines]

What kind of description do you want for match ups? Like mostly personality and hobby based? Or like physical qualities based?

Personality and hobby based to me would be better as I need to know what sort of person you’re like to see who you matchup better with. But I do encourage that if you believe it is important than go ahead and put it in their as well even if it is physical qualities. But yeah, personality and hobby is a definite must.

[2phetalia-imagines]

Hello, may I ask for a matchup request, please and thank you. I hope the length is alright, if not send me a message in my inbox and let me know. Here is the blog , I hope it works. Its a tumblr blog and the first part is shortships(.) tumblr(.) (com) (without the parentheses).

No problems sweetie, the link worked perfectly! :)

And your matchup is Luciano!

This man is the blunt sort of type, he really never notices that he is doing it and with such a pleasant and almost oblivious sort of way too; that refreshing truth can either make or break you. But it is certainly what you need, and in a way makes you feel comfortable because there are no lies with him, not really.

Sometimes this honesty can be a bit hard to deal with though because sometimes he’ll get frustrated when you don’t speak to him, or hold back on things he can see are just boiling at the surface and you just won’t let them out – but he tries to be patient.

Especially when it comes to brutal confrontation.

He knows you hate fights and in all honesty he hates fighting too. It’s never really pleasant to him knowing and practically feeling the disquietness between you both. He hates that feeling so he tries very hard to listen and watch, and just slowly understand. It’s a bit hard going at first but Luciano is stubbornly attentive.

On the odd days where life seems to hit a bit harder than others Luciano has a habit of just curling around you like a blanket and holding you tight; perhaps you’ll fight it at first and perhaps you won’t, but either way it becomes routine to have Luciano there with you or wake up to him by your side. Though it probably doesn’t stop you from smacking him into the floor the first time by accident.

The first time you both met it was actually by chance.

Both of you remember it a bit differently but the one thing you both agree on is that the day was very cold and wet, there was a small animal crying out there in the rain, and that you had followed the Italian piercing through the air in that distinct and grumbling, if softly spoken, words that lead you to finding him trying to climb out of a ditch with a small bundled animal underneath his arm.

After that was just a mesh of slow on-going steps and small waves of the hand, or a small incline of the head, just thinly veiled acquaintances really, until one day he broke out into Italian again and you asked if he could teach you.

The first time you realized… honestly you hadn’t expected it. One day you just looked at him and it hit you that he wasn’t that bad, and that maybe he felt comfortable to be around, and that his speech and manners were sort of appealing – it was Luciano though who offhandedly asked if it would be alright to start dating. At that point you decided why the hell not.

The beginnings of your relationship wasn’t an easy road though; the newness of the dating and the tentativeness of trying to make it work was almost stressing, but hey? Some things are worth getting your heart broken for, and luckily for you, this man had every intention of making you happy instead of broken hearted.

Runner ups include…. Mattie, Kuro, and Lutz.

[2phetalia-imagines]

Do you do pairings?

Do you mean matchups with 2p, or 2p with 2p? Because I will certainty do the first, but the latter is something I have put in the rules that I will not do.

[2phetalia-imagines]

thx-for-the-memeries said: Hi babe!!! I really love your soulmate au so can you do one for 2p Canada?? (Female reader btw) thanks and good luck with school!!!

(Thank you sweetie, and I’m sorry it took so long to get this out, but I hope you enjoy this soulmate Au for our one and only Canadian sweetheart! :)

the premise for this world is that the clock countdown shows you how long both soulmates have left to find each other or else they both will die because the universe is sadistic af—and if one find finds the other, they get to live longer.)

In this sort of world time is everything.

Every second of every minute of every hour of everyday, they are all precious and important, so, so very important.

Time is more than just a structure. It is a pinnacle of a single choice, a precise influential and single flux in time itself, and the choices made in those moments are where things must begin or end; the very measure of decision, and future, and history.

But that is the very thing of time… what must happen will always happen. That is the consequence of time and choice.

Time is important, and that is why the counter on your skin is important.

At least, that is what the world says.

No one knows exactly when the countdowns began, or if it will ever end, disappear in a fading smoke, no one knows. All the world knows is that it exists and must exist, the countdown to reach your potential other.

Survival of the fittest, some might say.

God’s test, others will argue.

Hope.

Tragedy.

None of it matters in the long run though. What does is that the other is found before the last minute is counted, if not… then you die.

It’s strange. As a child you believe that it doesn’t matter, that time is yours and nothing can stop you from losing your One. But as you grow older, its easier to see how much time controls you, and how fast the seconds are ticking away, and the choices you must make in that time to find Them.

It’s a race.

And you found your time being lost quicker and quicker as you aged. It didn’t seem fair, really. You never had the time to look, as ironic as it sounds. And when you did, you were on a schedule to beat the counter, the counter to your death.

You felt almost envious of everyone else around you, of those who found their ones so early on in life, or on their walk, or at the airport, or while just being.

You? Your timer was a sentence and every choice felt like death with each step.

How were you meant to find your One in a mass of billions if not trillions of human beings on this single planet! Just a single city was hard enough to look through, but to not even have a clue, a lead, as to who your One was?

It was as if the Universe was expecting failure!

But this is why you had to do this.

You couldn’t die without finding Them.

As much as this whole thing was making your heart race and anxiety skyrocket straight into the sky… you wanted, no, needed to find Them. You weren’t entirely certain if it was for your desire to live or the desire to know who your soulmate was.

The uncertainty didn’t stop you from scrounging up whatever money and help you could get, traveling from one town to one city to one country, each and every single time. Knowing that your counter was ticking away, and the numbers continuously, mockingly changing.

Where?

Where could they be?

The only real clue you had was the way the counter was set upon. The carefully structured numbers scribbled against your skin in a slanted cursive-like flick, and the cold feeling they resonated with.

That was all you had, their style of writing and perchance that your One lived in a cold climate.

Oh yeah, you thought bitingly. As if every place on this planet didn’t have their own winters and vast populations.

Still. It was the best you could hope for, the best you could do to narrow down where the cold resonated like ice on your skin. But as far as you could tell, you were beginning to find it harder and harder to carry on. Every single time you looked down to your wrist, at the glaring numbers shortening faster and faster…

Death is coming in closer.

Not even the beauty of the lands where you stepped upon made it better. In fact, it made you quite bitter. It made you want to grab something and chuck it at the next smiling face that glanced at you, as if you weren’t losing time! As if they didn’t believe in the dread you felt with an aching, heavy heart.

You sighed, starring out the glass window, fingers tapping away against your forearm, against the covered numbers you didn’t want to see anymore.

Five months.

That’s all it took for you to go travelling the world, for your counter to grow smaller and closer to that blasted END. You were certain that you had at least until the evening before it did reach the last number. Perhaps you should still continuing look, perhaps keep running and searching until the very last second, instead of sitting in this old brew café, nursing a warm cup against your blue tinged fingers. Instead of curled at the very edge of a window, long tattered scarf pulled taught over your shoulders, gazing up at the cloudy sky and the petals of snow falling.

You wondered if it really mattered. All this time looking and looking, worry gnawing at your insides like poison, and this… at the very edge of the end, is the only moment where you felt (not alright, you hissed. It’s never alright to accept this!) exhausted enough to not… not care.

It was the feeling of being wrung dry, stretched too far, and used too much of yourself to want to take another step further.

Besides. It wasn’t as if you honestly knew your soulmate was still alive out there.

It wasn’t a if the counter would just suddenly stop just because your soulmate was no longer amongst the living before they could start searching.

That was the tragedy of it too, because you honestly didn’t know.

You didn’t know if they were alive and kicking, that perhaps you had missed them in your search because they were searching too.

Nor did you know if they were already did, your timer simply counting down to the inevitable, fruitless death because… they were already gone. And it was just them that had to wait, waiting from the other side of the Veil.

The universe doesn’t care. That was a lesson everyone must learn, you realized.

A lesson that makes the counter both a beautiful thing and a terrible thing. But no one had ever really described what it felt to have your very life wasting away either. That was a lesson you had come to learn, just by sitting in this old burly chair, the heat of your warm cup barely scalding your tongue though you knew it should have. That you could feel the cold seeping in from all directions, spindly fingers racking over your skin like a promise, and your vision becoming cloudier and cloudier….

You picked yourself up with great effort, legs wobbly and hands so very numb. It was getting harder to hear, as if everything was muffled, and harder to speak, cotton in the mouth.

It’s a bit lonely, you thought. Almost bittersweet. Because even if you didn’t find your soulmate amongst the living, at the very least you’d find them after death.

¤ Ω ¤

The first thing you realized when you woke up was the warm hand splayed against your own smaller one. The second thing you realized was that the heart monitor had picked up speed, and that it wasn’t the only one. The third thing you realized was that you were very much alive, and when you cracked open your eyes that the hand being held was displaying your counter. The counter which was no longer ticking down, in fact having frozen before it could reach the end.

The warm hand in yours squeezed lightly, and you found yourself looking up into tired violet eyes (such a pretty colour, you decided, like that polished jewel you had seen in that store in France) peering back at you from stubbly chinned face and strawberry curls looking about one second away from spilling out of the ponytail loop the man had tugged it messily into.

Oh. You thought.

He found me.

You tiredly squeezed his hand back, but that gesture was enough for him to smile, a small almost non-existent smile, but it eased the beating heart inside your chest to a cool solid rhythm. He quietly slid into the bed with you, and you realized belatedly that he was dressed in hospital garb as well. But that didn’t quite matter as he pulled you in close and you smelled the pine and snow and something ashy about his skin.

It was so comforting, and for that moment you thought, it was just so him.

[2phetalia-imagines]

I'd like to send in a matchup request, but it'll probably be more than one ask. Is that okay?

Yes, that’s fine. I’m more than happy to fill in any request. :)

[2phetalia-imagines]

Hi, I'm sorry to bother you, but I was wondering if you were taking matchup requests? If so, do you mind if the information I give is long/detailed (I can send it in a link?

I am able to take matchup requests alongside other requests, and honestly I would prefer a detailed matchup just so I can make it more accurate. :)