Disclaimer: FFFF, if I owned Hetalia I wouldn't be writing fanfiction.
Random prompts.
I was tempted into writing these after watching the Fem!Norway/Denmark shenanigans on Twitter.
You guys are awesome 333
01. Blue
Denmark sometimes considered telling Norway she looked good in blue.
But then he remembered that would be out of character, and make it seem like
he liked her, and that would screw up their friendship.
He wouldn't risk that friendship for anything.
Not even if it meant heartburn-like pains every time she decided to smile in his general direction.
02. Lingering
Denmark wondered if it was wishful thinking that her brief
touches seemed longer recently.
03. Jeweler
Sure, Denmark liked Norway's hands. They were smooth and pale, with long fingers.
And sometimes he had to try very hard not to imagine what they'd feel like on his abdomen.
But that didn't mean he wouldn't be freaked out if he walked in on her applying
nail jewels ever again.
04. Slop
She snorted loudly as he slopped beer on his new shirt.
Then she cussed out her imagination for conjuring a (totally unwanted, dammit!)
image of him taking it off.
05. Crowing
She groaned loudly as a rooster decided it just HAD to announce it's presence to
the whole fucking world. Norway resolved to eat chicken for all three meals that day.
"Oompf!" Something smacked her hard in the chest and pushed her back down.
….A hand.
….A hand belonging to a shoulder.
A very naked shoulder.
Which in turn led to an obnoxiously snoring Dane.
….Fuck.
And why the fuck couldn't she remember what the fuck happened to lead to this?
That was so fucking unfair!
….Not that she'd want to remember something so horribly disgusting.
06. Aftereffect
Of all things, a day at the beach? In fucking swimsuits? She hissed quietly and
clenched her fists to keep them from trembling. God, she'd kill him for making
all those (disgusting) thoughts of him sliding his hands over her arms and groaning
under her kiss
and
and
Wait, what was she talking about?
…..She was really going to kill him next time she saw him.
07. Lettering
Norway frowned thoughtfully as she made some revisions to the paper.
Isolde
Inghild
Immerlin
She was quite sure she wanted her official, citizen of Norway name to start with I.
"Isolde" eyed the man in the chair across from her.
"What do you think?"
"...Isabelle."
"I'm serious, Denmark."
"So am I!"
"..."
"...Fine, Isolde. That's the answer you wanted, right?"
08. Distorter
Norway wobbled as the ground wriggled under her feet.
Well.
She could certainly get used to this position.
"...N-Norway, get off, I can't breathe."
Norway didn't think to question the hitch to his breath or the flush on his cheeks at the time.
Later, though, she tied it to a chair and grilled it endlessly.