A bunch of hetalia oneshots/ drabbles i guess?

Dennor (based off of Bad enough for you- All time low)

Mathias knew what he had to do. He knew that he couldn't be himself if he wanted the platinum blond Norwegian. He just wasn't his type and that was obvious. Lukas brought home those leather jacket wearing, kicking down doors for fun, treating him like he was nothing types. And the Danish man hated those people and yet had to become one of them. The only problem was that he had no idea where to start.

"It's three in the morning, what," came an irritated, groggy, deep Swedish voice.

"I need your help," Mathias's voice had a pleading tone.

"We could do this at a later time," Berwald's annoyance was prominent.

"Please, I'm tired of losing sleep over this. I want to be with Lukas-"

"But you're not who he goes after, I'll be there in twenty," finished Berwald. The line soon went dead and Mathias couldn't be any more grateful.

A knock at the door was heard, and the plan was promptly set into motion. First, it was the look. They sorted through the spiky blond haired man's closet and managed to keep a few band tees, some black jeans, and a few converse. The other pun shirts, cargos, sneakers, bright pants, suspenders, and bowties were packed up in a box where they were stuck in the attic hoping to one day see the light. The two Scandinavians made a list of what to buy, and with that they set out.

When they returned, they knew that their next focus is the attitude.

"You can't do any of those nice boyfriend things. That's not what Lukas wants," Berwald stated, "he wants those people who don't chase him, and you go after him like a puppy goes after a ball."

"I know and I want to change that," Mathias hoped it would work. This was his last shot. He knew that he would have to be indifferent to Lukas's emotions. He would have to treat him almost like an acquaintance with benefits. Not friends. He'd have to find that right balance to make Lukas love and hate him, to make him keep wanting more. He'd have to become the Norwegian's drug of choice. He would now become the cat in their little game.

"Also, you play by your own rules, but don't get thrown in jail. You're faking a renegade not becoming a robber," and with that final quote Berwald left. Mathias prepared himself. Practicing those deceptive smirks until he could convince a lawyer that a Denny's is a courtroom, learning the art of lying, and being vague without turning bright red and avoiding eye contact.

The day he was supposed to meet Lukas arrived. He made Lukas wait, and wait, and wait. He saw the desperation radiating off the other. That on edge of whether or not he would come, and when he did, a light blush spread across Lukas's pale face, taking in the other's appearance. Mathias saw and internally fist bumped himself, externally he remained stone faced, misty blue eyes unmoving and glassy.

"Where were you?" The muted purple eyed Norwegian tried to sound calm and almost had it except for a voice crack in the middle of you.

"Does it matter, I'm here now," Mathias spoke with all the charm of a snake. He saw Lukas practically become putty in his hands. This was all too enjoyable.