Happy Valentine's Day! + fic
Hope you all had a nice/sufferable day! If not, feel free to say. Mine was really, really boring. Probably because I don't have a significant other, and watching people play tonsil tennis has no interest to me, and pink is not one of my favourite colours. Ah, cynicism.
But anyway! As a small present to ruinimprove your day, have these two kink meme de-anons.
Titles: Carrots, Carrots and... More Carrots and Because Apparently Whales Have No Timing
Pairing: Finn/Ice
Prompt: Saying 'I love you' at the most random times.
Iceland swung from his chair idly, holding the table in one hand, and a magazine in the other. He knew it was a bad habit, but he couldn't help acting like a teenager sometimes - after all, he essentially was one - and Finland always made him feel so relaxed.
Finland who, currently, was chopping up vegetables. Without a thought evidently, as for some godforsaken reason, Iceland had the beginnings of a Mount Everest of carrots and potatoes on the side now, and Finland was still chopping.
But Iceland could forgive his friend, even if he'd be eating vegetables solidly for the next week. Or month.
Finland however, hadn't even noticed the pile, or the fact that it was now reaching a metre tall, pieces falling to the floor and the counter starting to creak under the weight.
"H-hey, Iceland?" Finland almost whispered, hesitant. The island nation failed to notice his nervousness and shaking digits, and showed that he'd heard with a simple 'hm?', without taking a single moment to look at his friend. Undeterred, he took a deep breath and continued.
"I-I love you, Islanti..." Finland went back to chopping his vegetables.
Crash.
(And no, that was not the vegetables, although it should have been.)
Iceland toppled backwards, overbalanced, sending him, the chair, and the magazine all flying to the floor, the flimsy pages covered Iceland's somehow amused but disgusted face. Picking himself up, he placed his hands on his hips.
"What have I told you abou- DO YOU MIND? I do not need an army's ration of chopped vegetables, Finnland! I wish you'd change your nervous habit." Finland replaced the knife, only truly seeing the scale of his pile for the first time, and watched Iceland. "We really need to work on your timing. Well. We should. But it'd probably be boring if you said it when you're supposed to. Why do you get so nervous? We've been together for what? Twenty years? I know it isn't that long, but seriou- No. Don't give me those eyes. Not the eyes!"
"Don't you appreciate that I say it at all?" Finland mock-whimpered, causing Iceland to sigh.
"Of course I do! And Finn..." he leaned over, pecking Finland on the lips gently, before eyeing the pile. "I think that's a new record! A metre in ten minutes!"
"I love you, Islanti," Finland commented quietly.
It should have been romantic. Iceland dreamed of the day that Finland told him that when they sat under the stars, watching the ethereal curtains of light in the sky, twirling and twisting, warmed only by each other. He dreamed of the time when Finland would take his hand over the table at a nice restaurant, whisper it in his ear, and then kiss him passionately.
Fate, however had different ideas.
Sarcastically, Iceland supposed that at least it was flame lit.
So he turned his head to glare at Finland with a look so incredulous, even Korea or America would have been able to tell that it was saying, 'why do you do this to me?'. Finland however, grinned nervously, wringing his hands, so Iceland feels that extra outlining of the act is necessary.
"What on earth possesses you? Where's the candle-lit dinner, the rendezvous under the aurora borealis? I swear, sometimes, you have the timing of a whale. The kitchen is on fucking fire and that's all you can say?!"
It then struck them both what Iceland had actually said, initiating some panic at the situation, with Finland flapping a tea towel at or on the cooker, until Iceland managed to wrench the fire extinguisher from under the stairs, and covered the entire kitchen with a deep layer of foam snow.
Sitting among the charred remains of a fish pie and knee deep in foam, Finland turned to peer at Iceland.
"What were you saying about a candle-lit dinner?" After watching Finland for a long moment, the island nation sighed.
"You know what? Never mind. I think the oven was offended by your cooking anyway."
"Islanti... It was your pie. You made this. I only came in when I heard the oven spontaneously combust."
"... Damn. Well, I love you too, even if you insult my cooking."
I should not be let loose on crack.
However, I'm going to Iceland at Easter! > < I can't wait, it should be really good. I hope the midges are later in the year~
But anyway! As a small present to ruinimprove your day, have these two kink meme de-anons.
Titles: Carrots, Carrots and... More Carrots and Because Apparently Whales Have No Timing
Pairing: Finn/Ice
Prompt: Saying 'I love you' at the most random times.
Iceland swung from his chair idly, holding the table in one hand, and a magazine in the other. He knew it was a bad habit, but he couldn't help acting like a teenager sometimes - after all, he essentially was one - and Finland always made him feel so relaxed.
Finland who, currently, was chopping up vegetables. Without a thought evidently, as for some godforsaken reason, Iceland had the beginnings of a Mount Everest of carrots and potatoes on the side now, and Finland was still chopping.
But Iceland could forgive his friend, even if he'd be eating vegetables solidly for the next week. Or month.
Finland however, hadn't even noticed the pile, or the fact that it was now reaching a metre tall, pieces falling to the floor and the counter starting to creak under the weight.
"H-hey, Iceland?" Finland almost whispered, hesitant. The island nation failed to notice his nervousness and shaking digits, and showed that he'd heard with a simple 'hm?', without taking a single moment to look at his friend. Undeterred, he took a deep breath and continued.
"I-I love you, Islanti..." Finland went back to chopping his vegetables.
Crash.
(And no, that was not the vegetables, although it should have been.)
Iceland toppled backwards, overbalanced, sending him, the chair, and the magazine all flying to the floor, the flimsy pages covered Iceland's somehow amused but disgusted face. Picking himself up, he placed his hands on his hips.
"What have I told you abou- DO YOU MIND? I do not need an army's ration of chopped vegetables, Finnland! I wish you'd change your nervous habit." Finland replaced the knife, only truly seeing the scale of his pile for the first time, and watched Iceland. "We really need to work on your timing. Well. We should. But it'd probably be boring if you said it when you're supposed to. Why do you get so nervous? We've been together for what? Twenty years? I know it isn't that long, but seriou- No. Don't give me those eyes. Not the eyes!"
"Don't you appreciate that I say it at all?" Finland mock-whimpered, causing Iceland to sigh.
"Of course I do! And Finn..." he leaned over, pecking Finland on the lips gently, before eyeing the pile. "I think that's a new record! A metre in ten minutes!"
"I love you, Islanti," Finland commented quietly.
It should have been romantic. Iceland dreamed of the day that Finland told him that when they sat under the stars, watching the ethereal curtains of light in the sky, twirling and twisting, warmed only by each other. He dreamed of the time when Finland would take his hand over the table at a nice restaurant, whisper it in his ear, and then kiss him passionately.
Fate, however had different ideas.
Sarcastically, Iceland supposed that at least it was flame lit.
So he turned his head to glare at Finland with a look so incredulous, even Korea or America would have been able to tell that it was saying, 'why do you do this to me?'. Finland however, grinned nervously, wringing his hands, so Iceland feels that extra outlining of the act is necessary.
"What on earth possesses you? Where's the candle-lit dinner, the rendezvous under the aurora borealis? I swear, sometimes, you have the timing of a whale. The kitchen is on fucking fire and that's all you can say?!"
It then struck them both what Iceland had actually said, initiating some panic at the situation, with Finland flapping a tea towel at or on the cooker, until Iceland managed to wrench the fire extinguisher from under the stairs, and covered the entire kitchen with a deep layer of foam snow.
Sitting among the charred remains of a fish pie and knee deep in foam, Finland turned to peer at Iceland.
"What were you saying about a candle-lit dinner?" After watching Finland for a long moment, the island nation sighed.
"You know what? Never mind. I think the oven was offended by your cooking anyway."
"Islanti... It was your pie. You made this. I only came in when I heard the oven spontaneously combust."
"... Damn. Well, I love you too, even if you insult my cooking."
I should not be let loose on crack.
However, I'm going to Iceland at Easter! > < I can't wait, it should be really good. I hope the midges are later in the year~