#Lietame

[writernotyetauthor]

Lithuania refuses to admit he’s developed a taste for some American cuisine/local foods to save face but whenever he & America get to hang out at his (Alfred’s) home he’s ordering a fried chicken sandwich and placing his French fries in the sandwich and finishing it off with a ginger ale. His old man teeth can barely take the sweetness of the soda but it’s what he had the first time and he refuses to change his order. America is so proud.

[coralcatsea]

From the Hetalia Drama CD about Alfred's birthday.

[askamericaandlithuania]

What was your first date like?

Lithuania: It happened on Valentine's day.

America: Literally right after I confessed.

Lithuania: Yes. We kept it simple. We went to my favourite restaurant, followed by a stroll around town and ending at a cafe for coffee and dessert.

[koolkat9]

Starting one of my favourite strips: Lithuania's outsourcing. Or as I like to call it America and his House husband

[hetasef]

It's a great day for democracy

[lietuvens]

mos man visas atminas ar paris gadu nobidi liekas dark un depressing un tadas pretigas vnk tapec ka es nebiju skaidra un tas iehito velak ta ka pec tam kad dzer nakamaja diena kauns bet pec 2 gadi. nezinu skatos vecus instagram posts un peksni viss kas pirms 4 gaduem biija liekas pretigi . bet man skiet man taja laika bija daudz vainas apzinas lietas un tas prost atsitas atpakal. ari si gada februaris liekas nenormali pretigs bet tad ari paris pretigas lietas notika un pretigi daudz dzeru viena lidz blackoutam istaba idk/ berlines ketamina junijs neliekas pretigs bet varbut pec pusgada ari tas bus tainted. tur jau ari paris lietas man apzinu grauz. bet lieku visu naudu uz tuvako nakotni LITERALLY lol zajebal

[council-of-beetroot]

AmeLiet/LietAme 🧐

I kinda ship it but not really. Like it's something I don't actively seek it out but enjoy nonetheless

What made you ship it?

Liet's involved.

What are your favorite things about the ship?

I like the conflict potentials and dynamics.

Is there an unpopular opinion you have on your ship?

I think it shouldn't be as fluffy like where is my red scare distrust, where is liet feeling conflicted about the discrepancy in the early 20th century of his experience versus the experience of his countrymen who immigrated to the us.

Liet becoming disillusioned with Alfred because of the cold war.

[samrut]

Who are your 5 biggest Lithuania ships?

AmeLiet - [I like this ship with 2p!Ame and Nyo!Ame too. Also, love Liet being on top - LietAme ~ 😌]

LietPol - [Such a fun ship- lots to work with. I am cool with Feliks being thrown into any ship with Tolys. Amelietpol/lietprupol - it's all good.]

LietUkr - [I like a size difference for this ship - Olga[ukr] being taller than Liet, strong, and giving him tons of affection. It's very sweet. ]

CanLiet - [I really enjoy a passive-aggressive and jealous Matthew for this ship. Ngl, I want Al and Matt to fight over Tolys or share him - it can't be helped. 2p!Can would be interesting too -]

LietPru - [PruLiet is fine too, but I prefer Liet as dom for this ship normally. I dunno man - I like a good hate f*ck.]

Those are probably my top 5, but I ain't picky.

[astralmarionette]

mutuqls would uou still love me if i were brainrotting abt hetalia specifically lietame bc i still lvoe them alot 🥺🥺

[oneonenightwithphysics]

komunikacija ar universitates administraciju atbilstoshi institucijas un amata stavoklja standardiem, bet universitates vadibai is secret superpower - vadiba ir prasta un primitiva un diskutet ar tiem par nopietnam lietam, par augstumiem konstruktivi - nav iespejams. url power

[autistichwsamerica]

HWS Lithuania: It says here that a man was paralyzed after eating 413 chicken nuggets.

HWS America: *cracking his knuckles* So the limit is 412!

[badlydrawn-baltics]

Happy late forth of July!

To celebrate I drew some boys, and oh no! Liet tripped and fell onto Alfred oh nooo what if they kiss oh nooo 😳

(I hc Alfred’s first kiss was with Liet on his birthday in the 1920s, for context)

[coralcatsea]

I don't think there's a straight explanation for this– 😂

[askamericaandlithuania]

New Style

America: We’re looking pretty good. If I do say so myself!

[koolkat9]

America's Storage Room Cleaning 2 Ft. England

Rating: T

Relationship: America + Engalnd, AmeLiet

Word Count: 1440

Read on AO3

Author’s Note: I've had this idea for years. I even had started writing it out but never returned to it. But I was reading the manga/webcomics and I got to America's Storage Room Cleaning and I had to come back and finish this fic.

Why was he here?

Alfred and Tolys had been enjoying their morning coffee when there was a knock at the door. Usually, Tolys would always jump up to answer, and Alfred would have to tell him to sit down, he’ll get it. But instead, Tolys collected their empty cups as if he hadn’t heard anything. Alfred shrugged it off as Tolys finally realized that he no longer had to do his duties as Alfred's housekeeper. But when Alfred went to answer it, he was met with a huffy-looking Arthur, arms crossed and all.

“Arthur? What are you doing here?”

Arthur quirked a brow, his frown deepening. “What do you mean? You were the one who wanted help.”

“What?”

“Tolys called me last night saying that you needed help with something. You’re lucky I like the lad, or I wouldn’t even be here.”

“H-He didn’t...I don’t…”

Arthur scoffed, “Whatever. Are you going to let me in?”

When Alfred finally snapped out of his shock and confusion, he moved out of the way so Arthur could enter, giving the Brit a strained smile.

“Give me one-sec dude,” Alfred said before running to the kitchen. “Why is  Arthur  here?”

Tolys turned towards him, a soft smile on his face. “That storage room still needs cleaning, doesn’t it? I thought Arthur would be a good set of hands for you.”

Alfred gave him a childish pout. “When did you become so demanding?”

“When I started dating you. Now go talk to him.” Toly began pushing him out the door. Alfred could have easily pushed back, but he knew Tolys was right. Tolys was always right.

Taking Tolys’ advice, he guided Arthur down the hall and around the corner to where a small room sat. It was slightly larger than a closet and was filled with what most would call ‘junk’ collected over the centuries of his life. Alfred would often refer to it as junk as well, but deep down, he found himself unable to throw most of it out.

“God it’s filthy,” Arthur sneered, looking around at the dusty boxes, “You’d swear it hasn’t been cleaned in a hundred years.”

Though the Brit’s comment made Alfred’s blood boil, he couldn’t exactly argue with either of the points. “You wouldn’t be that far off,” he muttered.

“What?”

“Nothing. Can you help me, or are you just going to criticize me like always?”

“I’m not your mother,” Arthur groused, making his way over to the pile to the right of the entry. “You can’t rely on me to pick up after you.” Despite his words, He began collecting stray items that had no box yet and began organizing them into a pile.

As Arthur made himself busy, Alfred began looking around, figuring he might as well try cleaning this place once more. It would probably get Arthur to leave. He trudged over to the pile of old toys, and sure enough, the box of soldiers sat on top. He snatched it up before Arthur could see it.

In all these dusty boxes awaited emotional death traps. And the man responsible for setting most of those traps was now poking around them about to set them off. Alfred shoved the box of soldiers into the darkest corner of the storage room.

While Arthur went through a box from the 1980s, Alfred began collecting all the items left over from his time with Arthur, shoving them in that corner. The first suit Arthur got him that was a bit stuffy, but came in handy during those fancy business meetings with the Continental Congress. The little nightgown Arthur had first found him in. The chest of stuffed animals, each handcrafted by Arthur himself. His first book that he’d beg Arthur to read to him almost every night for a year straight.

Alfred thought he was in the clear. But then something clattered to the floor. Alfred whipped around. “Hey be careful–”

His eyes landed on the musket that lay on the ground, the gash in its wood staring up at him, taunting him. The rain from all those years ago seemed to soak his back still, or perhaps that was just the cold sweat setting in. No, he couldn’t go back to that battlefield, especially not when Arthur was standing right across from him, staring at him with an unreadable look.

Alfred couldn’t take it anymore. He grabbed the musket and jammed it into the corner, overflowing with the past.

Arthur blinked, mouth drawn into a thin line.

“J-Just forget it,” Alfred stammered, “I didn’t even want you here. This was all Tolys's idea. I-I’ve gotten along just fine and have accepted that this will never be clean–Arthur don’t–”

But Arthur had already wandered over to the pile, sifting through each box reverently. “You kept all of this after all this time?” Arthur asked softly, lifting up the old suit and inspecting it.

“Well…Um…I-I tried to…I mean…Yes…”

Arthur moved onto the toy box, finding the collection of wooden soldiers on top. He picked up one of the men, taking a moment to admire its face. “These were such a pain to make. I’m glad they still held up after all these years. Though they could use a new paint job.”

“Aren’t you upset,” Alfred blurted out. He nabbed the soldier from Arthur and returned it to its home. “Isn’t seeing this painful?”

“Perhaps a little. But I’m more relieved that I’m not the only one holding onto these kinds of things.”

Alfred huffed and crossed his arms. “It’s not because I miss you or anything. I just…”

“They’re tied to memories, so it's hard to give them away? Quite common for our kind.”

“Mhm…”

Alfred stared at his feet, scuffing his shoe against the floor. For a moment, it was like he was a child again, Arthur towering over him, that knowing look in his eye that always seemed to pull the truth from the darkest depths of Alfred’s soul. Of course, Arthur knew there was something more to this.

“I’m sorry…” Arthur finally said, “For everything. There was no excuse for me to abandon you like that. I was running away. From my responsibility, my mistakes. Being an empire makes you a shadow of who you once were. I shouldn’t have left you for so long, I should have guided you, I should have heard you out and been your voice against my bosses, but I was selfish. Everything I did, everything my nation did should have never happened, and I’m sorry.”

Alfred stared at him wide-eyed. Prideful, stubborn Arthur Kirkland, who hated vulnerability, was standing before him, apologizing.

“There isn’t enough to be said or that I can do to make it up to you, but I would like to at least try. If you’ll let me.” He smiled sadly. “Come now, Alfred. Don’t make that face.”

Alfred hadn’t noticed his face had scrunched up in an attempt to keep his tears from leaking out.

Arthur approached, taking a handkerchief out of his pocket and offering it to Alfred.

Alfred took it, rubbing his eyes in a desperate attempt to get his emotions under control. “Why aren’t you crying?” he whined.

“I shed my tears long ago.”

“Stop being poetic and mature. It’s scary.”

“Cheeky brat,” Arthur scoffed though he was fighting a smile. He pulled Alfred into a hug, squeezing him tightly like he always did when they would reunite in Alfred’s childhood.

Alfred didn’t want to, but he clung to Arthur, missing the protective hold that never failed to put him back together. There was no stopping the waterworks now.

“That’s it,” Arthur murmured, rubbing up and down Alfred’s back, “Let it all out.”

Bold words coming from someone who liked to shove his emotions all the way down until he couldn’t hold them back, and they came out as anger. Not that Alfred ended up much different.

But here Arthur was, airing everything out. Alfred pulled away, thumbing away the last of his tears. “Thank you um…I think I need a little more time but…I’d like to try and fix things too.”

Arthur grinned. “That’s all I ever wanted.” He clapped and moved onto another box. “But we’ve got a job to do. If you would still like me to help, that is.”

“Yeah…yeah. Let’s do it.”

For the rest of the weekend, the two worked hard on arranging the storage room. They laughed, cried, shared stories, and when they emerged Monday evening, both felt like a weight had been finally lifted off their shoulders. Or at least, they weren’t shouldering it alone anymore.  

[odi-olio]

L3 with Amelia and Toris?

👀👀👀👀 during 1920 because why not.

I need to redraw this and put more effort lol