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Orange and buttercream [America and Norway]
Title: Orange and buttercream
Characters/Pairing: America and Norway
Rating: E for Everyone
Length: ~230
Summary: America made some cupcakes. Norway doesn't know what to think.
Other: Written for Fall Fandom Week. (Original post)
Orange and buttercream
Norway stared at the cupcakes in front of him. They stared back, large and accusing and fluorescent, topped with generous caps of frosting likely sweet enough to make your eyes roll back into your head.
They had googly eyes made out fondant stuck atop them.
"Er," Norway said, before looking up at America again. "Made these yourself, you said?"
"You bet!" America grinned. Practically beamed. "What d'you think?"
"They're orange."
"Sure are!"
"Very... orange."
"Uh-huh. Pumpkin flavoured."
Norway paused. "And the frosting, then?"
"Buttercream! Mixed it myself too, none've that canned stuff."
"That's... good." Well. If nothing else, at least there was that. But the fact remained: here Norway was, sitting in his friend's kitchen, getting stared down by neon-orange-and-buttercream monstrosities with google eyes and without much of a route for getting out of it. He thought, briefly, what would happen if he turned it down. The kicked puppy expression that he imagined wasn't worth it.
Best to go at it carefully, then.
"Ought to split one with me," he said slowly. "Can't handle sugar the way you kids can, y'know."
America blinked, stared, then laughed. "You old guys are all the same," he said as he reached for a cake knife. "Fine, fine, we'll share. But you'll want a whole one to yourself after, just you wait!"
"We'll see about that."
But at least - god forbid - the frosting was genuine butter.
Characters/Pairing: America and Norway
Rating: E for Everyone
Length: ~230
Summary: America made some cupcakes. Norway doesn't know what to think.
Other: Written for Fall Fandom Week. (Original post)
Orange and buttercream
Norway stared at the cupcakes in front of him. They stared back, large and accusing and fluorescent, topped with generous caps of frosting likely sweet enough to make your eyes roll back into your head.
They had googly eyes made out fondant stuck atop them.
"Er," Norway said, before looking up at America again. "Made these yourself, you said?"
"You bet!" America grinned. Practically beamed. "What d'you think?"
"They're orange."
"Sure are!"
"Very... orange."
"Uh-huh. Pumpkin flavoured."
Norway paused. "And the frosting, then?"
"Buttercream! Mixed it myself too, none've that canned stuff."
"That's... good." Well. If nothing else, at least there was that. But the fact remained: here Norway was, sitting in his friend's kitchen, getting stared down by neon-orange-and-buttercream monstrosities with google eyes and without much of a route for getting out of it. He thought, briefly, what would happen if he turned it down. The kicked puppy expression that he imagined wasn't worth it.
Best to go at it carefully, then.
"Ought to split one with me," he said slowly. "Can't handle sugar the way you kids can, y'know."
America blinked, stared, then laughed. "You old guys are all the same," he said as he reached for a cake knife. "Fine, fine, we'll share. But you'll want a whole one to yourself after, just you wait!"
"We'll see about that."
But at least - god forbid - the frosting was genuine butter.