new-prussian-tinfoil: source

Thu, 12 Jul 2012 00:58:05 -0400

new-prussian-tinfoil:

source

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Thu, 12 Jul 2012 00:57:58 -0400

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Thu, 12 Jul 2012 00:57:49 -0400

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Thu, 12 Jul 2012 00:54:42 -0400

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Thu, 12 Jul 2012 00:54:35 -0400

handsomeboymodelingschool: Hans Mauli

Thu, 12 Jul 2012 00:54:12 -0400

handsomeboymodelingschool:

Hans Mauli

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Thu, 12 Jul 2012 00:53:51 -0400

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Thu, 12 Jul 2012 00:53:15 -0400

damnedfoolishthing: かえこ

Thu, 12 Jul 2012 00:51:18 -0400

damnedfoolishthing:

かえこ

circlique: 夏コミ表紙とらくがき

Thu, 12 Jul 2012 00:44:35 -0400

circlique:

夏コミ表紙とらくがき

1-800-gaycountries: ♛

Thu, 12 Jul 2012 00:44:00 -0400

1-800-gaycountries:

♛

englishgentlemanforever: frenchkissesandlavender: Chuckling softly more to himself than to the...

Thu, 12 Jul 2012 00:42:54 -0400

englishgentlemanforever:

frenchkissesandlavender:

Chuckling softly more to himself than to the busy Englishman, Francis made his way to the silver drawer. Selecting the appropriate dining accessories, he gracefully collected a two glasses and made his way to Arthur’s dining table.

The dining room was quiet, almost disturbingly slow. A grandfather clock somewhere nearby ticked and whirled its gears, and the noise was loud and echoing in the quiet room. A lace tablecloth stretched delicately across the oval table and Francis couldn’t help the gentle head shake of genuine realization that somethings never changed. An empty vase sat in the center of the table as he laid out the glasses and dining wear, a puzzled look crossing his features.

Arthur was known among the other nations as having a surprising green thumb and a not so secret adoration for God’s green earth. On fragrant spring mornings, you could sure enough find the Brit, back bent over a rosemary bush or pruning a climbing honeysuckle with tender loving care that his scarred fingers could still emit. It was…disappointing to say the least not to see the vase full of sugar sweet butter cups and delicate sweet daisies that reminded him of the children and days long past sitting in emerald valleys braiding them into soft and fine baby hair.

Perhaps he would ask him about it. Perhaps he could just…prop open the nearest window that let in the tantalizing scent of night blooming jasmine and damp hyacinth just to let in some life to these quiet and damn near dusty old rooms. Deciding to do just that, Francis quietly opened the latched square windows on the side of the dining room, peering out into the twilight sky still blanketed in gray pregnant clouds that had not yet ceased in their gentle, watery onslaught. The smell of rain was powerful among the rose and bluebells, a gentle smile gracing his features as he listened.

Deciding that was as good as an accomplishment as any, Francis crossed the room and maneuvered back into the kitchen, bare feet brushing along the hall carpets and cool tile. He plucked up the plates of finished food and brought them back to the table.

“My, my, and here you let everyone believe you cannot even enter a kitchen let alone cook. I have half the mind to think you lie only to keep the secret of how good your cooking really is…just so no one will ask you for free samples!”

Arthur chuckled, bringing over glasses along with the wine and placed them on the corner of the table. “Looks like you’re smarter than I thought you were.” He joked as he began to pour some wine into each of the glasses. Though, he had to admit, he wasn’t far off from the real reason he had pretended to cook terribly. It was true that he would often pretend to not be able to cook anything, but it was only because he didn’t want it to become an expectation. Just as in France, everyone knows the French can cook well, so they gain a reputation of being able to cook just as well as everyone says. So having that reputation, if they create a dish or end up cooking something bad, they quickly lose their reputation, no matter how good everything else is. Arthur didn’t want to have to deal with that, so already starting out with a bad rep of an inability to cook, he less he had to worry about having to impress everyone else. Especially since he could care less about what everyone else thought. He knew what he was capable of and he didn’t have to share with anyone else… unless he wanted to of course.

“I save my ability for special occasions, as you can see.” He smiled as he placed down the wine glass in front of Francis’ plate as he sat down himself. This, right now, was truly a special occasion. Nothing special was going on in either of the countries, but there didn’t need to be. Francis was over to visit, and he had specially come for Arthur. He chose to endure the rain, risking his hair getting messed up just to come and see him, and Arthur found this in need of a dinner between the two. For once, he didn’t feel like fighting, he only felt like talking. For once, he didn’t feel the need to start an argument, he only wanted to sit and eat dinner. It was just a bonus that Francis decided to make dessert, a guilty pleasure for the Brit. Arthur just hoped that nothing would end up happening to ruin the night. He had to watch himself. But with the sweet smell of the flowers made potent by the rain, and the soft light from the sun peeking out from behind the gray clouds mixed with the artificial light in the dining room, everything was perfect, and nothing could keep it from being that way and nothing could change that. Not as of now, at least.

Francis perked at that, looking up from after he had sat down opposite Arthur. Had he heard him correctly? Placing a cheek in his palm, Francis couldn’t help but give him an amused little smile. “You think of this as a special occasion?” He wanted to know why, he wanted to ask Arthur just what he found so entirely special. But he didn’t want to ruin it. Arthur was like one of those deem sea oysters: the moment you find and inch towards the precious pearl, he snapped closed and didn’t let anyone near.

He didn’t want that. He didn’t want to lose the closeness they had managed to gain after the few hours of being together. It seemed their entire relationship was based on moments like these: gentle persuading and once in a blue moon kindness.

Francis was getting tired of playing cat and mouse with Arthur. It was much too disappointing when he woke up in the middle of the night and realized he could have anyone in the entire world except the one person that mattered to him above all.

“That flatters me beyond vocal ability, Angleterre.” Francis found it to be a perfect time to grasp the dainty handle of the glass wine flute and take a sip. Even though he had to restrain himself from downing the entire thing.

vennuk: ♛

Mon, 21 May 2012 18:14:59 -0400

vennuk:

♛

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Mon, 21 May 2012 18:14:41 -0400

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Mon, 21 May 2012 18:13:40 -0400

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Mon, 21 May 2012 18:13:21 -0400

heylookatthatleaf: Eiffel Tower, Paris, France. April 2011

Mon, 21 May 2012 18:12:37 -0400

heylookatthatleaf:

Eiffel Tower, Paris, France.

April 2011

all-france: Macarons http://weheartit.com/entry/28922068

Mon, 21 May 2012 18:10:25 -0400

all-france:

Macarons

http://weheartit.com/entry/28922068

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Mon, 21 May 2012 18:08:46 -0400

bogus-destination: 兄ちゃん Pixiv ID: 6343505Member: ＳＤＣ

Mon, 21 May 2012 18:08:17 -0400

bogus-destination:

兄ちゃん

Pixiv ID: 6343505
Member: ＳＤＣ

Bienvenue ❤

new-prussian-tinfoil: source

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handsomeboymodelingschool: Hans Mauli

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damnedfoolishthing: か え こ

か え こ

circlique: 夏コミ表紙とらくがき

夏コミ表紙とらくがき

1-800-gaycountries: ♛

englishgentlemanforever: frenchkissesandlavender: Chuckling softly more to himself than to the...

vennuk: ♛

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heylookatthatleaf: Eiffel Tower, Paris, France. April 2011

all-france: Macarons http://weheartit.com/entry/28922068

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bogus-destination: 兄ちゃん Pixiv ID: 6343505Member: ＳＤＣ

damnedfoolishthing: かえこ

かえこ