Once upon a time Jules worked in her grandpa Fritz’s flower shop. She had worked there since she was old enough to hold a watering can, and now that her grandpa was planning on retiring, she wanted to buy it from him. Grandpa Fritz was worried about this, though, because he felt like Jules didn’t really have a life outside the shop wanted her to try new experiences. With this in mind, one day he jokingly suggested he’d give her the shop if she went to the tattoo shop next door and got a tattoo to prove her dedication. He doodled a little flower and said if she got one even as simple as that he’d let her have the shop.
So Jules went next door to the tattoo shop just as the artist was finishing up with a client in the back. The client, a dude with intricate half-finished sleeves on both his arms, came out first. He and Jules started talking about how long it took to have them done and how many more sessions he’d need. Then the artist, who was actually the most beautiful person Jules had ever seen and possibly a goddess incarnate, came out. As she rang up the other dude and they scheduled his next session Jules looked at the little flower design her grandpa had drawn, which would probably take less than an hour to ink, and suddenly decided she needed an incredibly intricate floral tattoo to cover her whole back.
I am 100% garbage for waiting for the last possible minute to post this and technically it’s not even the 3rd anymore but let’s pretend we’re in PST instead.
This is my Prucan Secret Santa gift for prucanada! I went with your Nyo!Tattoo shop AU prompt (though I tried to make it so Jules wasn’t necessarily cis). I hope you like it and had a good holiday!
Hello, dear. So sorry this took so long to get done, but real life’s been Hell-bent on interfering with my writing lately. Hope you like this!
——-
Gilbert could not call this love. Not with his crumpled uniform still soaked in battle grime. Not with blood still buried under his fingernails. The thought was an unsafe one, dangerous and volatile. Love usually was among nations, but during war the beast was at its worst. The continuous violence made it too easy to become caught up in the base-qualities of a nation, free of political bullshit. Emotional barriers centuries in the making seemed to topple as easily as a poor front line.
Gilbert Beilschmidt did not believe in poor front lines. He had a policy, damn it. He would not break it for one nation.
So. This was not love. This was just a fascination.
But Mathew Williams had a habit of making life hard on Gilbert. The blond was wild thing, in battle and out, and that called to Gilbert on an animal level. Since Mathew had first dropped him at Vimy Ridge, Gilbert had found himself left wanting. His dreams were filled with Mathew’s hands, how deceptively birdlike they were even while snapping Gilbert’s neck. No one had ever beaten him so quickly, so carelessly. Like Gilbert was little more but one man among many.
It itched at him, that his first impression should be so weak.
This piece was written for handsy-zoe for the PruCan Holiday Gift Exchange and the prompt was domestic fluff in a human AU so this is what I have come up with. I really hope you enjoy and I apologize for this being after Christmas but family stuff happened. Anyway, here’s the fic!
The “Perfect” Christmas
If there was one holiday Matthew adored above all others, even Canada day, it was Christmas. The snow, the lights, the songs, even the stomach ache that resulted from the over-consumption of candy canes, he loved it all. He enjoyed the food and the happiness that came with Christmas, even when spending it alone when his brother was busy, but this year, yes. This year was different. It was his and Gilbert’s first Christmas together and he was gonna make it special.
Matthew spent days perfecting recipes and organizing lights and playlists, he even made the maple cookies Gilbert loved-even though they were out of season, he just wanted everything to be perfect. With one final check on his honey glazed ham (he’d rather made turkey but Gil had this weird thing about not eating bird) he was able to sit and relax for the first time that morning. He molded with the chair nearly being consumed by the upholstery, and had a moment to think about today. He smiled at the thought of sharing this day with Gil, and their few friends who weren’t heading to family for the celebrations. He knew for a fact that Francis was coming, as well as a definite from Arthur and Alfred, the only missing were Antonio and Gilbert’s brother Ludwig, who would probably travel from the Vargas family Christmas after dinner. He was excited, to say the least, giddy even. He had never really had many friends as a child, and now, many of his friends and colleagues were busy. But at Christmas, he was surrounded by so many of his loved ones, nothing seemed to matter anymore. Matthew yawned as he thought about the happiness of Christmas, not even noticing when his eyes began close and him drifting off to sleep.
He woke to the smell of smoke, the blaring beep of the smoke alarm and the hiss of a fire extinguisher that was possibly being wielded by the cursing voice from the kitchen. He jumped up and bolted to the kitchen and saw his white haired boyfriend spraying his charred ham while a line of obscenities spilled from his lips. Matthew couldn’t speak. He fell to his knees and started to cry into his hands. Gilbert froze instantly, rushing to the blond and holding him.
“Hey, hey, its ok. It was just ham-”
“Its not about the ham!” Matthew interjected. “I wanted today to be perfect! And now the ham is charred and I nearly set fire to our kitchen cause I fell asleep. I wanted our first Christmas to be perfect for you. And now, Christmas is ruined.” He sobbed.
Gilbert chuckled, causing Matthew to look up at him. “What?” he whispered.
Gilbert looked at Matthew in his tear filled eyes and told him,
“Liebe, I don’t care about how many cookies we have, or if our ham is perfect. Christmas isn’t about the gifts, the decorations, even the food-no matter how tasty. Its about being with the ones you love. And I love you, so this Christmas already is perfect. I don’t need a ham, I already have you.”
Matthew stared at Gilbert’s smiling face. It was so calm with the hint of a laugh in the lines of his face. He smiled back, laughing through the drying tears. They kissed while kneeling in the foam from the fire extinguisher, and as Matthew sat there in Gil’s embrace, he decided this was a perfect Christmas after all.
Bonus:
“What are we going to have as a main course now? We still have guests coming over later.” Matthew spoke aloud.
Hello! I wrote this for the awesome @missdoku, for the prucangiftexchange-2014. Happy Holidays and may you have a happy new year!
"Birdie why aren’t we decorating your house?" Gilbert asked as he leaned against the door jam, Matthew continued putting his clothes into a suitcase.
"I told you we will be spending the holidays with papá and dad. So why go through with all the problems that come with decorating if we won’t even be here?"
"Aw Birdie you won’t even put lights up outside?"
"Not unless you’re gonna go out and do it on your own" Matthew said as he zipped up his bag. "you packed yet?"
"yeah, but seriously can I go put up the lights?"
Matthew was about to respond as the lights flickered, the two froze as the lights shut off.
"Did you pay your electric bill?" Gilbert asked as he pulled his phone to get some light
"Yes, Gil, I paid my electric bill" Matthew rolled his eyes, turning towards the window. "Maple… I thin the storm hit sooner than predicted."
Snow flew around the house, piling up in constantly growing mounds.
"Dude I think your car is covered!" Gilbert shouted sticking his head out of the window he threw open.
"I guess we won’t be making it papá and dad’s place.Gil asked re-closing the window, his nose bright red.
Matthew shook his head, “No this storm is going to last for at least a week. Better let papá know. Gil could you go check the generator downstairs, makre sure it’s got plenty of gas and a few back up cases as well.”
"Gotcha" Gil turned his phone light on and headed towards the basement. Matthew pulled out his own phone and dialed his parents.
“Hey bro, what’s up?" Alfred answered, Christmas songs playing in the background.
"Hey Al are either dads around?"
“yeah hold on… Dads!! Mattie wants to talk to ya!”
After some shuffling on the other side Matthew finally heard
“Bonjour mon fils how long until you and your secret boyfriend get here? Your father is fretting so much and he keeps rearranging my beautiuful Christmas villliage.:
“Bonjour papá, that’s what i”m calling about I don’t think we’lll get there in time for Christmas”
“What? hold on Mathieu you father is throwing another fit. Mon laopin please I can’t hear Mathieru”
Matthew laughed as he heard his dad shout “Shut it you frog! The house isn’t ready yet!”
"Desole, what ere you saying?"
" I said that I don’t we’re gonna make if to your house for Christmas."
"oh why? Are you okay?"
“Oi papá, we’re both fine. Its just the storm hit us earlier than expected. We’ve already got a few feet of snow outside and we’ve lost power. Gil’s downstairs working with the back up generator as week speak.”
"Gil? Like the fish parts? Is that why you wouldn’t gice us any info? You didn’t want us to know that you’re dating a freaky fish guy?"
"AL?! 2 things. First Gil is not a ‘freaky fish’ guy and secondly when did you srtat listening?!"
"When the dads started shouting"
"Boys please Mathieu are you okay? Do you have food? Supplies?
“ Oui papá. Could you please tell dad we won’t be able to make and we’re sorry?”
“It’s not your fault but yes I ‘ll tell him don’t hesi-BEEEEEEEEEEEEP BEEEEEP- merde I have to go your father started cooking again. Stay safe lots of love, call us later au revoir”
"We will au revoir" Matthew hung and headed down to see how Gilbert was doing withe the back up generatore/
"Verdammit, stupid thing won’t work" Gilbert mutthered to himself as Matthew walked in. Matthew then walked over, picked up the unplugged powercorda nd put into the wall.
As the generator roared to life and the lights returned, Gilbert laughed “Kesese I knew that. Now what are we gonna do?”
Matthew shrugged and headed back upstairs Gilbert following behind him.
"I’ve got it! I’ll make this the most awesome Christmas ever" Gilbert shouted when they reached the living room. "II need you to go make lots of snacks and not go come back in here until I say you can okay?"
"Fine, but it better be aweome" Matthew laughed pushing the door to the kitchen.
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Canada (Hetalia)/Prussia (Hetalia)
Characters: Canada (Hetalia: Axis Powers), Prussia (Hetalia: Axis Powers), Germany (Hetalia: Axis Powers), Kumajirou (Hetalia: Axis Powers)
Additional Tags: Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Magic Healing Pancakes
Summary: In which Gilbert Beilschmidt is given a) a house, b) a home, and c) a second chance.
so i wrote a thing for @garbage-compacter re: the prucan holiday gift exchange!!! :> happy holidays lovely, i hope you like it!!!
Others: For simplyotakublog for the Pru-Can Gift exchange
He was the first to notice her sitting alone in the corner of the room. He gazed at her for a moment, holding his tray in hand. The rest of his friends and his little brother already took their places at the usual table.
Gilbert looked at the normal table. That witch, Elizabeta, was rubbing Ludwig’s head. Lud’s face was a bright red that only appeared when a certain Italian student’s name was brought up. Roderich poked his school lunch, probably cursing Gilbert for causing both their lunches to be dropped in the fountain outside the school.
Normal stuff. Boring stuff.
Without even speaking to his siblings, Gilbert made his way through the crowded lunch room.
“Anyway sittin’ here?”
The girl jumped. She turned from her lunch and looked at Gilbert. Her eyes were a purple shade. Roddy had purple-ish eyes, too, but his eyes were darker than this girl’s. Her were softer and Gilbert’s fist didn’t start to twitch with the urge to knock the glasses off her face like Rodderich.
She raised a hand and pointed at her self.
“You’re talking to…me?”
Gilbert looked around at the rest of the empty table with an eyebrow raise. Please, not another crazy one. His family had a long standing tradition of finding either outrageous or crazy women really attractive. (Elizabeta being the main example of this, in Rodderich’s case.)
“Yeah. You.”
“Oh!” The girl pushed a stray wheat colored strand behind her ear. “Sure, sure. Just get comfortable, eh, Gilbert?”
Gilbert blinked. “How did you know my name? We’ve never met.”
The girl gasped and covered her mouth. She scooted towards the end of the table.
“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” she whispered, “Um, well, my t-twin sister is Amelia. You and Francis and Kiku play D&D at the house sometimes.”
Gilbert stared at her. He leaned across the table then titled his head. He looked the girl up and down then gasped.
“The Quiet Healer who saved my ass from that Mountain Troll!” Gilbert hit his forehead with the heel of his hand. “Shit. You only played once so you really can’t blame me for not remembering you, M…Mat, er, Mad…”
“Madeline!” She filled in with a smile.
“Madeline.” He nodded. “Mind if I sit with you? Family drama at the normal table.”
“O-of course, eh? I’m sorry about the drama. Amelia brings enough of it home, so I understand.” She offered him an apple slice. Gilbert took it. He tossed it in his mouth with a shrug.
Gilbert chugged his milk, half to show off his impressive eating skills. “Nah, my family is just chaotic as a normal, ya know? I just wanted to sit with someone who won’t bring up what happened last night as blackmail for a change.”
Madeline raised an eyebrow. “What happened last night?”
Gilbert rolled his hand. “Someone stole the the—Ah, I see what you did there!” He jabbed a chicken nugget at her. She laughed. It was like tiny bells.
“Darn, caught me! Caught me!”
Gilbert grinned. He liked this girl.
After the first meeting, Gilbert slipped away from his family and friends at least once a week to sit with Madeline. They’d talk about silly little things, TV shows, games, sports. Sometimes Gilbert would let slip some gossip about his family (though, to be perfectly honest, Madeline wasn’t sure which brother Gilbert was talking about more the half the time).
Madeline, herself, liked Gilbert. He was sweet, at least to her. He liked pancakes—a must for a friend of hers! He agreed with Madeline that Amelia’s relation with Ivan was probably going to fall to pieces any day more. He introduced her to some German bands, and she showed him some of the best Canadian groups she knew.
That day Gilbert jokingly punched her in the shoulder.
“I bet you’ve got Justin Bebier all over your room don’t you. All sorts of poster and pillows and blankets. Probably some plushies too.”
Madeline poured her apple jiuce over Gilbert’s hotdog while dryly commenting, “Don’t forget the blow up doll.”
Gilbert didn’t even noticed his lunch. He just asked if such a thing actually existing and if it would be weird if he bought one to leave in his little brother’s room.
Soon Gilbert sat less and less with his normal gang. He saw them all the time, while Madeline and he only had lunch together, Gilbert explained one day to Elizabeta who followed him over. Elizabeta looked Madeline up and down then nodded and took her leave.
Madeline wasn’t use to all the attention Gilbert gave her. The attention she normal received was either annoying sisterly teasing from Amelia or Francis’ older brotherly, slightly perverted, affection, but Gilbert treated her like a good friend, or at least better than he should have treated a girl he’d known for two months and only talked to for forty-eight minute five days a week.
Amelia told her to ask him out, quick. Popular guys like Gilbert didn’t stay single for long unless they were closet gay or openly asexual. Her sister said something else after that advice, but Madeline put her headphones in an ignored her.
To be honest, Madeline did want to go on a date with Gilbert, but she just could not make her self squeak out the question. It wasn’t even she wanted to preserve their fledgling friendship or that he might stay ‘no’, she really couldn’t do it.
Gilbert tapped his fingers on the table. Madeline was late today. Normally she was there before him. Actually, he couldn’t think of one time he had made it to the table first. Once she beat him by only seconds, though, when her teacher held her class late to finish up a test.
“Sorry I’m late. Hope you didn’t want too long!” Madeline smiled.
“No, not long.”
Madeline set her tray down then looked behind her. A slightly larger girl with dark skin and long hair stood there. She shrugged and sat across from Madeline.
The girl stuck her hand out with a smile.
“Hola. Myra.”
“Don’t think your fancy Spanish will impress me!” Gilbert laughed. “Gilbert.”
Madeline rolled her eyes. “Myra is from Cuba and is staying at my house for a while.”
Gilbert nodded. “Wow, Cuba. Beaches and cigars.”
Myra winked at Gilbert across the table. “Oh, yeah, too bad a cutie like you couldn’t come, man. Pale guy like you’d burn to a crisp in seconds.”
“Who said I’d want to leave a hotel if a girl like you is with me?”
Madeline blushed. Gilbert restrained himself when they were together. She really should have known though. Myra had been cracking jokes like that all day between asking about classes and what kinds of ice cream they served at lunch.
Madeline decided the grin and bare it. It was Myra’s first day, after all.
By the seventh day, Madeline finally had to mention to Myra to control herself just a little bit.
By the tenth day, Myra had been invited to D&D night at Gilbert’s (which she declined).
By the twelve day, Madeline went two days without saying a word during lunch.
By the fifteen day, Myra had convinced Gilbert to go on a date with her (which he expected).
Myra bustled around Madeline’s room in a dress Madeline thought was a little too high. She was doing her eyeliner in Madeline’s wall mirror.
“Not that I mind, but why aren’t you using the bathroom?”
“Your sister stunk it up. She’s such a pig.”
“Yup.” Madeline held up her book at just the right angle to hid her face.
She DID mind Myra using her room.
She did NOT like people other than her calling her sister a pig.
And SHE was the one who stunk up the bathroom.
Myra threw her purse over her shoulder. It was Madeline’s purse.
“See you!” Myra winked. “Wish me luck!”
“Luck.”
The door shut. Madeline proceeded to cover her face with her big polar bear pillow and screamed. She kicked her legs and smashed her fists against the pillow. In hind sight, she should have removed her glasses. There was a small cracking sound.
The lense of her left frame fell onto her lap. Madeline gritted her teeth. She lifted her hand, lense held tight in her grip, about to toss.
“Oh. My. Gawd.” Amelia rolled her eyes from the door frame. “Get off your lazy ass and go talk to Gilbert before those two bump nasties.”
Madeline stammered, “G-Gilbert wouldn’t—and Myra not suppose to—and it’s not like I—“
Amelia marched to the bed to took the frames from her sister’s face and the lense from her hand. She started to put them back together as she spoke. Her voice dripped with annoyance. Whether it was directed toward Myra, Gilbert, or Madeline herself, Madeline wasn’t sure.
“One: Gilbert would, believe me. Two: Myra’s train of thought is ‘what the exchange student program doesn’t know won’t hurt them’. Three: You like Gilbert.” She dropped Madeline’s glasses, fixed more or less, on her lap. “Now go. Tell him you like him before you end up missing out.”
Madeline touched the glasses, but didn’t put them on.
“I don’t know where Myra went.” She lied.
“A party at that Antonio guy’s, next to the Domino’s, off the main road.”
“I wasn’t invited.”
“I was, offhandedly. Go in my place.”
“I’m not good at parties.”
“Practice makes perfect.”
“I couldn’t actually find them in the crowd.”
“Just ask for the albino bro with an ego three times too big for his age. You only need to talk to Gilbert, not Myra.”
Madeline gritted her teeth then snapped, “What if they hit it off, huh?! What if they really do like each other?!”
Amelia grabbed her sister’s shoulders. “Which is why you need to go now!”
Madeline turned her gaze away. Would it really be worth it? Talking to Gilbert, risk looking totally stupid, possibly getting her hopes crushed…
The girl took a deep breath.
“Could you drive me?”
“Heck yeah!”
The party was crowed, as Madeline had predicted. She bite her lip standing outside the Spanish style home. Amelia rolled her eyes. She revved the engine which caused her sister to jump. Madeline glowered at her. Amelia made a ‘go’ gesture before driving off to find a parking spot at the convince store around the corner.
Madeline swallowed.
Her presence and voice were so small and quiet, most people couldn’t heard her. Once she had a
a cup of milk set her on head during a middle school party because someone thought she was a table. She could streak around the room and no one would notice.
“Well, Gilbert would…” Madeline took a deep breath. She set her resolve then marched into the fray.
An elbow to the ribs. Dirty old sneakers on fancy new heels. A cup of spiked punch on a nice new shirt. Madeline stuttered sorry countless times as she did all of these. No one yelled at her other than the first few ‘hey’s or ‘watch it!’.
It was like the whole world was inside this house! There was no way she could find them. Even if she did, what would she say? “Oh hey, Gilbert, before you get a piece of fine Cuba booty, can we talk? You see I really like you. I’m not as pretty as Myra, or as funny, and we don’t have anything really in common aside from a lunch time, but I’d like to go to the movies or something with you sometime!”
Madeline stopped with her shoulder against the wall.
“Stupid. I’m so freakin’ stupid.” Madeline shook her head. No point. There was no point. She’d go back to eating her lunch in the band room. If she went into the percussion practice room, then she could eat in silence with those freshmen who chased her out the first time would leave her be.
Madeline turned on her heels and slowly sulked out of the house, as usually, completely ignored.
Gilbert leaned against the wall, a cup in his hand.
“Then, get this, he said ‘I didn’t know it was a goat!’” Gilbert thrust the cup into the air, nearly spilling his drink on a passerby who glared back.
Myra doubled over in laughter. “Oh. My. God. Your family is insane.”
“Yeah, I know. I live with them!” Gilbert then chugged the rest of his drink.
Myra wiped her eyes then took a breath. “Oh, man, hey, did I tell you about the time my friend—”
“Guess she’s not found you yet.” Amelia strolled over. She put her hands on her hips and looked Myra up and down with scorn. She turned her nose up at the Cuban and spoke to Gilbert instead.
“You need to talk to Madeline, like, now.”
“Why?” Gilbert set his cup on a side table. “Something wrong?”
Amelia opened her mouth then shut it. She held up a finger then fished out her phone. A text from Maddie.
“Im walking home. Theres no point. Myras perfect for Gil.”
Amelia’s mouth gaped open like a fish for a moment. She shoved her phone back safely between her breasts. The blonde marched over to Myra and stood face to face with her. Myra narrowed her eyes.
“What?”
“I hate you.” Amelia reached up and grabbed the front of Myra’s dress. “I liked you at first, then you got annoying and I just didn’t like you. Now, I hate you. You hurt my sister.” She dropped Myra and pointed at Gilbert, “And you, asshole, I really hate you.”
“M-Me? What the Hell did I do?” Gilbert snapped.
Amelia gritted her teeth. She raised a hand then slapped Gilbert across the face, earning many stares. “Madeline’s had a crush on you for, like, weeks, and you, you just push her aside when some pile of trash for some sunkissed bitch? I want all my shit I’ve ever let you for D&D nights back, my games, and all the other stuff, then I want you to never get near my twin again! If you do you’ll get more than a slap, ass!”
This time, Gilbert’s mouth gaped open.
“Mad…Madeline likes me? I-I didn’t—-She never told me.” Gilbert frowned. His stomach turned. Myra pursed her lips in thought. Looking back, maybe Madeline did like Gilbert, and Myra just looked the other way. Her stomach twisted like she’d had some bad meat.
“I’m a horrible friend!” Myra heaved a sigh. “Gil, you need to talk to her.” Gilbert nodded then looked to Amelia. Amelia had her arms crossed tightly over her chest. A light came from between her breasts when her arms pressed a button to unlock the screen.
“She is going home, which means she’ll stop by the house then run off somewhere else to cry or something.” Amelia readjusted her chest.
“Com’on, Myra, we’ll take my car.” Gilbert sleek against the wall with Myra behind him. Amelia pursed her lips then followed. Her car was too far away for them to get to the house before Madeline.
Madeline’s legs shook. She could barely see. Tears were hazing her vision. She reached up and tried to wipe them away on her sleeve.
What was she going to do anyway? She’d see Gilbert at school, even outside the lunch room, and Myra lived in the same house.
Madeline could almost hear it now, Myra going on and on about her and Gilbert’s relationship. She’d confide in Maddie what a good kisser he is, then they’d eventually go deeper than that. Every soon to be uttered word felt like a sharp spike stab through Madeline’s ribs and straight to her heart.
While wiping, She pushed her glasses up. They tumbled off her face and down to the ground. The left lense skidded across the concrete, off the curb and into the road.
Madeline swore and scrambled after it.
Gilbert’s car smelled like sausages and evergreen air-freshener, but Amelia already knew that. She’d rode in his car before, but never had it been so silence. The tension weighted heavy on everyone’s shoulder. Amelia glanced in the rear-view mirror. Myra stared out the window.
The Cuban tried to call Madeline herself, but Maddie had her phone turned off. Madeline had been so kind to her, listening to her problems and helping her with her homework, letting her borrow her clothing and jewelery. Madeline was such a nice person, and yet Myra turned an eye to her crush. If only Madeline had told her sooner. She would have understood!
Gilbert pressed down on the gas peddle. He was speeding something terrible. If a cop caught him, he’d be ticket an assload for this, but Gilbert didn’t care. He was just so stupid. He did like Madeline. He’d like her for a while now, but he liked their friendship too. If some of his past relationships were any indication, if things between Madeline and him went sour later on, then they couldn’t be friends anymore. It was one of his few unawesome qualities. If only Madeline had told him sooner! He would have understood…
Gilbert gripped his wheel until his knuckles turned white. “Why didn’t she say something?”
“Cause she’s Madeline.” Amelia responded. “She’s politeness reborn, and she has a passive aggressive streak. Even if you two did date, she won’t say, she’d put salt in your tea instead of sugar and give you wrong answers on a test, but she would never tell you why she’d mad.”
“That’s a stupid. If you’re mad, just tell them!” Myra growled.
Amelia turned in her seat. “Like you’re so innocent! You must have known, but you went after him anyway!”
“Maybe she should have told me, ‘hey, I like Gil, don’t date him’!” Myra leaned forward. Her nose nearly brushed Amelia’s. Amelia growled. She unbuckled her seat belt and started to swing at Myra, who responded in kind.
Gilbert took a hand off the wheel and swatted between them in an attempt to quell the fighting. “Stop it, idiots! Not in my car!” He turned around, “Fight it out at Madeline’s h—”
Myra screamed, “Oh my God! Gil! Look out!”
Gilbert turned his gaze back towards the room in time to see someone crouching in the road. He swore, slammed on the breaks, and jerked the wheel to the side. Amelia jolted forward, hitting her arms hard against the dash and smashing her temple against the window. The air was knocked from Myra’s lungs. The seat-belt left a bruise across her chest.
The breaks screeched. The car skidded sideways, but not out of the path of the person in the street.
A sickening set of thuds over powered the squealing tires and screaming. The car hit the curb and skid across a newly mowed lawn. A bird bath hit the front of the car, smashing the windshield. Safety glass rained down on Amelia and Gilbert as the bird bath took a place wedged between them.
They took out a several planters and bird feeders, then plowed into the flowers beds before hitting the side of the house.
The residence of the house rushed out just as the air bag deployed.
“My G—is veryone ok?” A voice shouted.
Stars littered Gilbert’s vision. His brain still rattled around his skill. He rested his head against the air bag, panting.
Someone ran over then tore open the door.
“Anyone dead? Answer me!” The bearded man started to pull Gilbert out of the car. “Romeo! Call the police! Tell them there was an accident! Lovino, Felicanio help me here!”
A twin chorus of “O-ok Nonno!” came from the diction of the house along with the hurrying sound of someone swearing as their fingers scampered across the wrong set of numbers on a phone screen.
The grandsons of the man ran around to the sides of the car and helped haul the girls out.
“Ah! Nonno! I know these people, they go to my school!” Lovino shouted as he shouldered Amelia away from the car. He helped her to the ground. She was out cold, but still breathing, and bleeding from the head, but still breathing.
Felicanio attempted to drag Myra out, but wasn’t strong enough to pull the bigger boned girl. Romeo darted from the house, shouting that the ambulance was on the way. Felicanio waved him over and together they hauled Myra out. Blood oozed from a gash in her side. Myra wheezed. Romeo pulled off his coat and pressed it against the gash, looking at his cousin with big, worried eyes. Felicanio’s eyes mirrored back the feelings.
Gilbert swallowed. He tasted blood, but it didn’t matter.
“I…” He raised a shaking hand towards the road. “They…I didn’t see them in time. I was speeding and…” Gilbert slumped against the older man.
The man’s face fell he squinted towards the road then he gasped. He laid Gilbert down and ran across the lawn.
His face paled at the poor soul left in the street. Crouching, the man gently tapped her cheek.
Blood seeped from her mouth, nose, and ears. Cuts scattered across her exposed face, neck and arms. Bruises scattered over her skin. Her clothing torn and wrinkled. Her chest barely moved. The man was afraid to try CRP, lest he push any fracture bones into organs.
The ambulance pulled up then. The EMTs filtered out and started for the three on the lawn, but the man yelled for them to come over to the girl in the street.
“I think she was run over,” He told an EMT. “The kids were speeding, but I don’t know how fast.” The EMT nodded. He yelled for some more help before shooing the man off.
An EMT put a mask over Myra’s face.
Myra shook as she spoke. “A-Amelia. She-She took-k off her seat-belt. She hit really h-hard and, Gilbert, and the person in the street, and, and, and—”
“Don’t speak,” The EMT commanded. Her expression soften. “Don’t worry, we’re getting to everyone.” Myra nodded weakly and shut her eyes. The EMT looked over her shoulder to the girl in the road. Her fellow EMTs were already taking the girl to the ambulance, but she could tell the girl’s prospects were so very slim.
The ambulance drove off.
They didn’t turn on the lights.
Gilbert hobbled down the plan white corridors of the hospitable. After so long he could finally walk—if you could call it that—by himself. The cast was heavy against his leg. If his nurse saw him, he’d get scolded and told he needs to use a wheel chair, but Gilbert refused to be confined like that.
Sure it hurt like Hell, but no one needs to know that. Besides, Gil was on a mission. He’d already checked on Myra and Amelia.
Myra had a few broken ribs, fracture femur, and a one way ticket to Havana once her family found out she’d not only been out partying instead of studying, but she was planning on dating some random boy. From what Gilbert understood, the second Myra was allowed to leave, she was going home. He’d already told her good bye and told her he was sorry their date took such a horrible turn.
“No, don’t worry about, brother,” She’d said. “We all made it out alive. Besides it wasn’t the worst date I’ve ever had.”
Of the people in the car, Amelia sustained the worse damage. The cops say she was lucky she wasn’t sent flying out of the car. She would have been a lot less hurt if she had been wearing she seat belt. It would take months, maybe years, of physical therapy before she could walk by herself.
When Gilbert walked past her room earlier, she had a neckbrace on and a broken arm. It looked like she was crying. The doctors probably just told her how long it would be before she could walk again…
A nurse wheeled someone around the corner. Gilbert stiffened, half expecting the nurse to yell at him, but the nurse didn’t seem to pay him any mind. The person in the chair, on the other hand, did.
Amelia asked the nurse to stop. Her blue eyes were listless. Her face pale and her hair greasy. She still had a neckbrace. He could see thick black stitches across her forehead. Red rimmed her eyes.
Her voice was shallow and tired when she spoke.
“I hate you.” Amelia didn’t sound mad or hostile. There wasn’t a cold tone to her words. There wasn’t much of anything to her words. That send chills up Gilbert’s spine.
“I’m sorry Amelia. I shouldn’t have been going so fast. This is all my fault.” He frowned. His leg was starting to hurt, but he felt he probably deserved it.
Amelia didn’t nod and her tone stayed the same. “Yes. It is. Everything is your fault. Madeline is gone, and it’s all your fault.”
“Madeline? Oh, God, she didn’t run away on you, did she?” Gilbert gritted his teeth. His medication was wearing off. He felt a little too clear headed for the circumstances.
Amelia turned her head, but their was no confusion in her eyes. “They haven’t told you, have they?”
“Told me what?”
“Madeline,” pain flashed through Amelia’s dull eyes, “is dead. She was the one you hit, Gilbert. You killed her. My sister is gone forever, all because of you.”
Gilbert’s heart stopped. Madeline was gone. He hit her with his car, when he was speeding to find her and tell her he liked her. All the possibilities, the dates, the lunch talks, the pancakes, all of them are gone. Forever.
“I…I’m sorry.” tumbled out of his trembling lips. The apology wasn’t for Amelia, and they both knew it.
Gilbert’s nurse came running down the hall then. She was shouting at Gilbert that he wasn’t suppose to be walking, but Gilbert didn’t care. He dropped to his knees. His barely healed leg could have broke and he would have been too numb to feel it.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry…” He held his face in his hands. Amelia eyes flashed again. For the first time the police told her Madeline was gone, Amelia felt something twitch in her chest. He deserved this pain. Everything was his fault. She hoped the pain consumed him and he never forgot what he did.
If there was anything else there was else to say, Amelia left it hanging there on the floor with Gilbert sobbing as the nurse pushed her onward.
~~~~~~~~~
SimplyOtaku-san said they wanted a tragic/sad story, which is something I’ve not much inexperience with. T.T Then to top it off, it was nearly late! /(TAT)/ Here, I hope you like it, anyway! I owe you a drawing if you want one, since I couldn’t think of anything good to draw for the cover. /(T-T)\
Anyway, Happy Late Heta-Mas –or whatever Holiday you celebrate with a Hetalia twist!
hey guys please remember to get your gifts in by January 3rd or let me know if you are going to need an extension due to internet access issues (computer troubles, travel, etc.)!
This is my gift to the awesome kisskissmindthegap, who wanted a ballroom dancing type AU!
I really hope this is anything like what you wanted, I realize now it doesn’t have much dancing, and a lot of Cardverse stuff which you said you weren’t familiar with. Well, if there’s something you don’t get, I guess I can try to explain?
I have to admit, I had a longer story in progress, but it was going too slow and it wouldn’t have been done, so I began this one. You didn’t miss much, though. This would’ve happened in that one anyways.
Secret Santa gift for msgeekycool! Merry Christmas!
I hope I was able to make it fluffy enough for you! :D
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
Their house was small. It was cold. Darkness filled each room, with just enough light to cast odd-shaped shadows on the walls and across the bare floors.
This was written for the prucan gift exchange, for my lovely recipient dammit-karev who wanted a story of the couple in a blizzard or sharing their first christmas so I did a little of both.
It’ll be in the read more since my stories are usually pretty lengthy.
This piece was written for @prucanon-itsnotokay for the Holiday Gift Exchange and the prompts ‘Christmas spirit’, ‘calm’, and ‘height difference’. My father was 6’6” and my brother is 6’8” so I’m afraid I automatically imagined a rather drastic height difference.
I was not your original Secret Santa, dear, but I stepped in and I really enjoyed writing this. I hope you like it too. Happy holidays! (This is rather short so please feel free to hit me up for something else…)
Mistletoe and Tiptoes
Prussia wiggled into the oversized armchair and sighed into his hot chocolate. This was nice. This was more than nice.
This was perfect.
The house smelt like cookies and cocoa and carols drifted through the air, uneven and crackling on warped records, and he had lit three dozen candles earlier to make up for the fact that they did not have a fireplace. The den was warm in soft candlelight and softer stringed lights wrapped around and around the enormous fir in the window. It was comforting.
He had always adored Christmas but the holidays seemed even brighter since he had moved in with his boyfriend.
“I think I burnt the last batch…”
Canada paused in the doorframe and frowned at the platter of cookies in his hands.
He was wearing an awful, hideous sweater with misshapen reindeer stitched across his chest. Prussia had picked it out for him and it still gave him a thrill to see Canada wearing it. His fashion sense was either atrocious or he really, really loved him.
Prussia suspected it was a little bit of both.
“They’re fine,” he reassured him.
“You always say that,” Canada mumbled, exasperated. He slouched into the den, ducking, because he was absurdly tall and wearing felted antlers.
“Because they’re always fine,” Prussia agreed as he scooted over. Canada dropped into the armchair, taking up too much space, and jostled the cookies. And they looked fine, honestly.
Canada grumbled under his breath and popped a cookie into his mouth.
“You don’t know anything about baking.”
“I know that these are delicious,” he said happily as he stole one of the cookies and dunked it in his hot chocolate. “Mmmmm…”
He made exaggerated ‘om nom nom’ noises until Canada sniggered and nudged him. Prussia pushed him back. They ended up sloshing his hot chocolate.
He pried the platter out of his hands and set it aside.
He gently kissed the inside of his wrists.
Canada blushed sweetly.
Prussia pulled Canada up and started twirling him in circles to the warbling carols. He carried him past the tree they had decorated together and the presents they had wrapped for each other. His own wrapping was neat with military corners whereas Canada had used packing tape and colourful ribbons.
They danced past the stuttering candles and mismatched stockings.
They danced underneath the mistletoe.
“You’re supposed to kiss me,” Canada informed him solemnly, nodding to the knotted leaves and berries, and Prussia had to stand up, up, up on his tiptoes in order to reach his lips. Canada smiled as if Prussia were endearingly ridiculous. But he was the one wearing a sweater that was two sizes too big for him, not quite maroon and not really red, and lopsided antlers on his head. He was the one wearing threadbare jeans and vibrant purple socks. He was the one who was so unreasonably tall.
And Prussia would not have it any other way.
He threw his arms around his shoulders and laughed into the kiss when Canada hoisted him up. He squeezed his ass. Prussia crossed his ankles behind his back and let Canada support his weight.
He kissed him lightly and then harder and then even harder.
He threaded his fingers through the curls at the base of his neck and thought about knocking his antlers off. Then he thought about removing the rest of his clothes.
This piece was written for @ameridork for the Holiday Gift Exchange and a prompt for the two of them spending Christmas Eve together. I think that their holidays would often involve elaborate traps, actually…
Happy holidays, dear. I hope you enjoy it! (And this is short but it seemed self contained… Please feel free to hit me up for something else!)
Stake Out
Canada helped Prussia unroll the sleeping bags in front of the fireplace and wondered what, exactly, he was doing.
“This is it,” he cackled gleefully, rubbing his hands together. “We’ll catch him this year!”
Prussia had been trying to catch Santa Claus for over a century, without success, and he was becoming rather desperate. Canada did not even know why he wanted to catch him. Perhaps he just liked the challenge.
“That’s what you said last year,” Canada reminded him as he shooed Kumajirou and tried to flatten his sleeping bag. Prussia checked on the wires and tin cans spread across the den in convoluted patterns. It was an elaborate setup. “And in 1993, I think.”
Kumajirou curled up on the red sleeping bag anyway with a snort.
Gilbird settled beside the bear with a gentle chirp.
He threw up his hands in defeat.
“Trial runs,” Prussia said dismissively as he studied their stockings. He had filled them with mousetraps. “I was practicing. But I have him this year, I know it.”
Canada sat down on the other sleeping bag instead and watched Prussia with his chin in his hand. He looked a little ridiculous, honestly, in brilliant pink pajamas with yellow patches on the elbows and precisely one slipper. Canada smiled softly.
He had spent the afternoon rigging snares and trip wires and slowly, surely backing them into a corner. So far, he had only succeeded in trapping them in the den. Canada refrained from pointing that out.
“And what are you going to do with him?”
“He owes me a favour…” Prussia wandered over once he was satisfied and flopped beside Canada, kissing him cheekily, and Canada rolled his eyes even as he tangled their fingers together. “I saved Christmas once, you know.”
“Oh, really?”
“Really.”
And he almost believed him.
They slipped inside the sleeping bag, together, with their clasped hands cradled between them. It was a little too warm, a bit crowded, but Canada breathed in when Prussia breathed out and it was soft and soothing and sweet.
He kissed him again.
The stringed lights glinted off the ornaments on the tree, the hidden wires, and it was somehow comforting. And he knew that their holiday traditions were unconventional, he really did, but he would not trade them for the world.
They fell asleep between lazy, lingering kisses, waiting to catch Santa Claus.
And when the cold wind’s blowing
Snow drifts through the pine trees
In houses lights are glowing
Likewise in your eyes that find me here
With all that I want
It’s Christmastime
This is the Prucan Secret Santa gift for give-me-all-the-hetalia-boys!! You asked for something sweet and cute. What’s cuter than dancing in huge, warm, mismatched sweaters? I hope you like it and have a wonderful holiday. Merry Christmas!
Gilbert was never really one to believe in silly things like fate and soulmates. He had heard about it his whole life, though. Heard about the tattoo-like markings on the inner part of someone’s wrist, supposedly the name of their soulmate.
The thought was strange to him as a child. Why would a mark try to tell him who he was supposed to be with for the rest of his life. What about all the risks? If the other person died or got hurt. Would you yourself know?
How could biology possibly know which person out of millions were meant to be with you specifically? It was just strange, and made no sense to him, so he never really bothered trying to show interest.
If he liked someone, he liked them. That was the only thought he ever really put into these sorts of things.
So when the first faint traces of a name appeared on his inner wrist one morning, he was interested, but he tried not to pay too much attention to the light silver letters scrawled across his wrist.
It was too faint to read for now, though Gilbert spent a few minutes staring at it in confusion. After deciding it was probably useless even trying for now, he shrugged and got up out of bed, tossing the covers to the side and dragging himself to the bathroom to take a shower.
He washed up quickly, then got out and wrapped a towel around his hips, going to dry his hair. He rubbed his head with the towels, catching a brief glimpse of the marking on his wrist. Had it… gotten darker?
He froze and stared at it for a few moments, only able to make out the first two letters: an M and an A.
Ma? Matt? Mark? Maddie?
The albino frowned a bit, thinking it over as he dressed, throwing on a dark t-shirt and a pair of skinny jeans.
Glancing at his phone’s, he cursed under his breath, rushing to pull on his sneakers and a hoodie. He grabbed his keys as he passed the spot where they hung by the door, dashing out and heading down the stairs to the lobby of his apartment building.
“See you later, Antonio!” he called out as he slipped through the lobby to the front doors, passing one of the mechanics who worked at the apartment building. Well at least they were finally getting around to fixing the air conditioning.
The cheerful Spanish man returned the greeting, giving Gilbert a brief wave before looking back over the paper he had been working math problems out on.
Gilbert hummed to himself, jogging down the street. by now he had a good fifteen minutes left until his shift started at one of the local coffee shops. It took him about twelve minutes to jog there.
The bell above the door chimed as he stepped inside, heading over to the counter and quickly hopping over the lower part.
“You’d better wash that!” he heard the other worker, Lovino, yell after him as he headed back to get the apron he had to wear. He nearly grabbed Felix’s, looking at the name tag before he pulled his off it’s hook and tying it around his waist after taking his hoodie off against and setting it aside.
“Yeah, yeah. Calm down, I’m gonna take care of it,” he waved his hand dismissively, coming out with a rag to wipe down the area of the counter that he had just slid across. Lovino glanced over at him, beginning to undo the apron tied about his waist. “Take over for me when you’re done, will you? Felix should be coming in soon, if he decides to be on time today. Good luck,” the hot-headed Italian said offhandedly, walking to the back and leaving Gilbert at the front counter.
The albino sighed and nodded, going over to the register after he set his rag aside. He looked out over the cozy little coffee shop briefly, taking in the few people who were there. Shrugging a little, he tugged his phone out quickly to check the time and see if he had any new text messages.
Sadly, there were none, though Gilbert noticed something else as his wrist flashed into view. The lettering on his skin had darkened, and the letters were now more clear and pronounced.
Matthew? Well there was no Matthew in the shop now, was there? He thought he would have noticed by now if his so-called ‘soulmate’ were in the building he was working in.
Right as that thought passed through his mind, the door opened with it’s usual cheery jingle from the bell above it, and a rather tall young man stepped into the shop, carefully tugging his curly blond hair free from the clutches of his scarf.
Gilbert nearly froze, staring at this stranger with a strange interest. Why did he look so familiar? He was pretty sure he had never met this guy, yet he felt like he knew him. There was a strange feeling settling heavier in his gut as the young man walked over to the register.
He ordered in a soft, almost quiet voice, and Gilbert almost didn’t hear him over his sudden daze. What was wrong with him, all he did was take one look at the guy and-
…Oh no.
“Hello? Are you okay, sir?” the blond asked, waving his hand in front of his face, “Do I need to call someone?” Gilbert froze, his crimson eyes catching the flash of a jet black on the blond’s inner wrist. It was his name. His very own name in his own messy scrawl, written over this boy’s wrist like a brand new tattoo.
“You… You’re Matthew?” he asked suddenly, slipping out of his daze and looking up to meet brilliant blue eyes, that almost looked violet in the light.
The young man’s face scrunched up in confusion, and as hard as Gilbert tried not to feel it, something in his chest nearly melted at the look. “How do you know my name?” he asked, before he glanced down at his own wrist. His eyes widened then, and he looked back up at Gilbert.
“Y-You…” He blinked, looking over Gilbert’s face like it was the last thing he would see, as if he were trying to memorize every aspect, every plane of Gilbert’s cheeks and jaw and every fleck in his eyes. “You’re GIlbert?” he nearly breathed, and the paler man nodded, slowly pulling away from the blond young man.
“Yeah… Yeah I am… Um… I’ll get you that coffee. It’ll be on me. Maybe we can talk later?” he asked, looking almost hopefully at Matthew, who quickly nodded. “I have a few things I need to work on for class, so I can just stay here and work on them until you get off of work,” he smiled faintly, patting the messenger bag at his side.
“College?” Gilbert asked, almost frightened by the idea his soulmate might be a highschool kid while he was 22.
Matthew nodded. “I’m 19, don’t worry. Started college this last fall,” he said, as if reading Gilbert’s mind about the age concern. Or maybe it was something to do with this weird soulmate thing.
Gilbert nodded, quickly writing Matthew’s name down on a receipt. “I… I’ll be right back,” he nearly stammered, internally kicking himself for seeming so… un-cool.
Matthew smiled and nodded again, going to stand off to the side while Gilbert made his coffee for him. He grinned and held it out to the blond, who took it and sipped at it graciously. “Just… come let me know when you’re done. Maybe we can go out for dinner and I can repay you for this coffee,” he gave just the tiniest hint of a smirk, and that was when Gilbert realized it.
He was already head over heels for this guy.
—
Matthew snorted a bit, happily cuddling up to Gilbert’s side as best as he could with the albino practically sprawled out over the couch. They were watching some weird Christmas movie, one that Gilbert was hardly paying attention to with all the nervousness he could feel twisting his gut. Matthew was the only one really watching the film.
They had already been dating for about a year now (plus or minus a few months) and had spent the whole day setting up for the upcoming Holiday. Gilbert hadn’t been to keen on the idea of trying to put a fake tree together and string it with lights in his apartment, though he could never say no to Matthew when he gave him that pleading puppy look.
It was one of his weak spots when it came to Matthew. So now the living room of his apartment was adorned with lights and a tree, and there were already a few presents wrapped up neatly under the tree.
Though Gilbert’s best gift for his boyfriend wasn’t under there. In fact, it was resting in his pocket, the small black box weighing heavy against his thigh.
“Hey Matthew?” he asked suddenly, lifting his hand from where he had been running his fingers through the stunningly soft blond locks. Matthew raised his head to look up at Gilbert. “Yeah?” he asked softly. He carefully sat up, thinking Gilbert needed to get up.
The albino hesitated a few moments before he did indeed get up from the suddenly incredibly comfortable couch, kneeling in front of Matthew, who looked down at him in confusion.
“Matthew… You know I loved you nearly from the very first time I looked at you,” he paused, Matthew rolling his eyes a little and smiling down at the Albino.
“Gilbert, what are you doing?” he asked gently, though Gilbert shook his head a little and kept going.
“And I know you’ve probably been waiting for me to get the balls to do this for months… but… will you marry me?” he blurted out, pulling out the small box and holding it out to the blond.
Matthew blinked in surprise, taking the velvet box and slowly opening it. “You… I…” he smiled brightly, taking the ring from the box and slipping it onto his finger. “Yes.”
Gilbert looked up at him and smiled brightly, pulling Matthew into his arms and kissing him sweetly. The blond eagerly returned the kiss, pulling back and nodding again, breathless.
Gilbert couldn’t keep himself from smiling, the movie behind them long forgotten. “I love you, Matthew,” he whispered, and the Canadian nodded, hugging Gilbert tight. “I love you too… Merry Christmas, Gil,” he said softly.
“Merry Christmas, my sweet little bird.”
Biology had nothing to do with it when it came to faint tattoos and coffee stains.
Hello @askenzerubebii I’m your secret Santa and I really really hope you like the drawing ʚ(ˇ◊ˇ)ɞ ♥ (ó㉨ò)
I need to be honest with you at first I had like 0 ideas on what to draw, I prepared everything for the typical christian christmas drawing in my head, but after some investigation ( which was quite interesting to be honest ) and asking you of cause I had plenty ideas, but somehow stuck with the one with them being the children walking from house to house, holding hands, with baskets full of goods because that dang cute
This is a gift for Lovely Blackrosegirl666 who wanted a Prucan historical (romance) christmas!
I got the idea of a kind of “merry christmas” ww1 setting where both share whats left of old hot chocolate and coffee, along with worn blanket in a trench. For a night they let go of the war going and just enjoy each other companie. :)
I really hope this is fine! The theme was leaving me a lot to imagine and I hope that this will please you. ;u;
Merry christmas dear!
