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Literature
CanadaXReader - Simple
His hands are rough. Years of an honest day's work, day after day, have left their mark – the life of a lumberjack is not easy, but it is rewarding. You like your little setup in the country: surrounded by nothing but nature for miles, but close enough to nearby towns for necessities. The house is spacious, and you love it. Between the varnished maplewood furniture, handcrafted by Matthew himself, and the bay windows shadowed by linen curtains that do little to keep out harsh Yukon winters but provide a beautiful view of summer sunsets, you feel nothing but calm. Nature brings you peace, and provides an ample, nearly endless workspace for the both of you. His work is all around him, not going anywhere, and as a gardener, you have more than enough time for little breaks of your own here and there. This is one of those moments; a lazy Sunday on an unusually warm March morning. You enjoy days like these, reclining with him in his favourite armchair and feeling his heart beating stro
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Literature
FranceXReader - Beauty
He was in love with beauty. Although you were anything but beautiful.
Your hair was not the longest, or the softest, or the most well-groomed. It did not flow like his did – you rarely even let it flow. There were never any comparisons to luxurious manes or lengths of silk; instead, he would sometimes compare it to a bird's nest or a forest underpath; unclean and unkempt. Mostly, you would just leave it to its own devices and be done with it. But your hair was not what he was in love with.
Your eyes were nothing special; poets often spoke of their lovers' eyes resembling those of jewels, or wild seas, or the lush, rolling hills of country landscapes. He did not follow these trends; your eyes were unremarkable in every way. As Shakespeare once said – My mistress' eyes are nothing like the sun. Your eyes were like a murky swamp. Not gems, not orbs, not precious in any way or shape. But your eyes were not what he was in love with.
Your skin was not soft. Not smooth like
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Literature
DenmarkXReader - Dominance
Your back hit the wall as you let out a pleasured groan. His lips felt like fire across your skin, and you pushed him closer to your neck, eager to feel more of his lips on your skin. Mathias pressed his lips to yours before moving down, pushing up your shirt and placing open-mouthed kisses all over your exposed skin.
You hissed through your teeth as he left a hickey right above your navel, and he looked up with a devilish grin on his face – it had been a while since the two of you had been intimate, but he still knew exactly what you liked and just how you liked it. "How does that feel?" He asked, licking the forming bruise.
"Good," you breathed, wishing you could spend more time together like this.
Living with the rest of his brothers usually meant that you and Mathias rarely got to spend any alone time with each other, and you were tired of waiting for the right moment. So, with a little help from Tino, you took matters into your own hands, managing to snag a couple of tickets
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Literature
LiechtensteinXyandere!Reader - Devour
Lili was a blessing disguised as a curse; a nightmare that became your sweetest dream. You were drowning in her love, in your desire. And it would kill you. But not before you took her down.
You hadn't always been the way you were. But she took over your mind and soul until you couldn't bear to be apart from her. You had to have her, had to be near her, had to feel her, had to taste her, had to had to had to. You had to be her. And there was only one way.
Butterflies in her stomach; that was how she described it. You hadn't felt the same, at first. She always smelt of sweet things – you could tell her scent from a mile away. Some sort of syrupy fragrance given to her by her brother or something. It made you sick.
Sick at first. And then you grew sick with love. You couldn't get enough of that saccharine perfume, you never understood why. But you didn't care. Nevertheless, as you grew warmer towards her, she shrunk away, wary of your newfound, intense interest. With her. Only her.
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Literature
AmericaXReader - Patience
It takes a lot of patience and affection to get to the state of companionship you and Alfred have managed to reach. Few could stand to be around him for any length of time purely due to his horrendous eating habits, total lack of filter and general unpredictability.
But he is endearing to you, and although some of the things he does do sometimes raise questions in your mind, he makes up for it with a huge heart and a blind eye to your own shortcomings.
But not always. "(Name)." Your name rolls off his tongue easily, a practiced word that has hung off his lips many times over the years, usually in the same tone of voice, sometimes with a little lilt on the end to capture his current emotion to ward you. Right now, it's questioning.
"Yeah?" You don't look up from the book you're reading.
"There's no milk in the fridge." You furrow your brow. You bought some a few days ago, didn't you? You voice this and his response is immediate – "I drank it all." Wow. All his quirks did take time
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Literature
EnglandXReader - Team of Two
"Look after him. Protect your son..." With the last breath of life evaporating into the air, her eyes closed and her spirit faded out of his world.
Even as (Name) slipped through his fingers, out of his reach, the last thing on her mind was the child. The bloody child, with his screaming despair and his vibrant eyes, so perfectly mirrored with her own... he didn't take after his mother at all. But then, that would mean he took after himself. Arthur shuddered and pulled a hideous face, banishing the thought from his mind.
Good God, I hope he doesn't take after me, he thought. The very idea of his son growing up and becoming a newer version of himself was not a sight he ever wanted to see.
His thoughts were in a jumble as he stared at his son. What was so special about him that the powers that be decided to take the life that gave him his? He shouldn't have been feeling so negative about his own flesh and blood, but he had taken away the love of his life and he was still reeling f
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Literature
2p!fem!FranceXReader - Sugar
She takes her coffee with three sugars, to combat her own bitterness.
Her hands on your hips, your name silent against her lips, the feel of her skin brushing against yours as you pull her closer, tighter. You want this. More than anything, you want her to want this.
She never will. Not in the way you want her to. But she will oblige anyway, just so you will leave her in peace.
She told you she would ruin you. She was right. You rarely spend your nights alone – you always find yourself drawn to her, no matter how many times she tells you to go away. Maybe she's just as hooked as you are. She enjoys her cigarettes, enjoys hot flasks with alcohol-laced coffee within. She doesn't enjoy much else, but maybe she secretly enjoys your company, too.
But then, your presence in her line of vision always hardens her eyes, deepens the scowl on her face, etching in another pair of frown lines that rather accentuate her almost savage beauty. Maybe not.
"I put the kettle on. Do you want some te
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Literature
SwedenXReader - Values
He's here again.
You see him long before you hear him, stepping silently across your floor. You always wondered how such a great man could walk so lightly. His booted feet almost weren't touching the floor as they made their way over to you. He rarely said anything to you, but his nightly visits never failed to heighten your nerves and make your skin blush with the close contact. It was so wrong. But you could never get enough.
It always started the same way: he would nudge your head slightly, tilt it up to connect your lips, before pulling you out of your small, narrow bed and disrobing you with ease. Though you only ever wore one item of clothing at night – your white linen shirt, though you sometimes dared to forgo the cloth during the summer months – he would always take an eternity to actually remove the garment from your body.
Once the physical barrier was out of the way, he would spend minutes at a time just gazing at your body. Not a whisper of muscle visible undern
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Literature
AustriaXReader - Routine
You woke up to an empty bed still warm from its inhabitant's early departure. Even through the warmth of the sheets, your heart was warmer still. You could barely believe that just a little over three years ago, you were heartbroken and on a downward spiral. Yes, he had been the one to send you down that road, but he had also saved you when you went too far, and you couldn't be more grateful.
Even now, you still weren't sure if you let him back into your life because he genuinely regretted the pain he had caused you, or if you just wanted him back. Maybe it was a mix of the two. But it didn't matter anymore. That was all in the past now.
You made your way down to the kitchen, a smile on your own face forming when you caught sight of your lover's upturned lips and a plate piled high with fresh pastries in his hand. You took the plate and set it down on the counter, before planting a kiss full on his lips.
"You spoil me."
"I only want the best for my darling." He kissed you again, before
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Literature
AustriaXReader - Naivete
All things are beautiful, and people are naturally attracted to what they perceive as beauty. However, it's up to people to look for it and to cherish it. But beauty can only go so far. He showed you that. He knew. Roderich Edelstein, Austrian born and raised. You never should have met. You wished you never had. But he showed you things you never could have learned on your own.
Your face, your eyes, your thoughts, the way you carried yourself – all delicate like the buds of a flower opening up in spring. No-one could do you wrong. No-one wanted to do you wrong. A bit childish, a bit too naïve for your own good, maybe. You held your childlike charm close to your chest, and people didn't want to take it away from you. It made people afraid. Afraid that their gaze might linger too long, their hand might brush too hard against you, and you would shatter like a tiny glass ornament.
But he didn't even hesitate once, not like the way all of the others had. Maybe that's why you fell
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Literature
RussiaXReader - Afraid
"Congratulations!"
"Best wishes to the married couple."
"Nice going, Ivan! Try not to let this one get away, too–" that last one was from Alfred, of course. Ivan would've hit him, but of course, Arthur beat him to it. A loud thunk rang out, and an outraged cry followed. He smiled; some of the tension finally leaving his body.
He was so afraid once the two of you had finally gotten married. His younger sister had not been happy. With a worried face, you tugged on his arm to follow you into the car, further away from the well-wishers and the partygoers and away from Natalia.
She was there as the car sped away, if your expression was anything to go by. Naturally, you looked pleased; happiness radiated from your very being. But there were tears in your eyes as you turned to him.
"Do you think we did the right thing? Not just inviting Natalia. Do you think we really should have gotten married so soon? I-I mean, not that I didn't want to marry you, b-but–" you stamm
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Literature
GreeceXReader - Clumsy
He gave you trinkets and you broke them. He gave you ornaments and you smashed them. He couldn't help it. You couldn't help it. He was reckless. You did your best to be careful. But things always ended up getting broken in the process.
Everything about you was endearing. Outwardly, with your unfailing kindness and welcoming nature, with the most pleasant scent about you and a voice that many compared to the music of the gods, you were many people's idols.
Though, that was where the end of your positive features came into play. Inside, you were a bitter storm of spite and self-hatred – mainly at your sole ability to leave a trail of total destruction in your wake. It was a curse you complained of bitterly to anyone who was willing to hear your woes until your breath had completely evaded you, as had the colour in your cheeks.
Pouring rain and getting soaked. Umbrellas not opening. Umbrellas opening up too far and getting flipped inside-out. Accidentally shocking yourself trying to
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Literature
PrussiaXReader - Gypsy
He spoke of not wanting to be alone forever, but at the same time he didn't want to be denied of seeing what the world had to offer. "I'm a wanderer at heart," he told you.
Back then, it wasn't uncommon for him to disappear for a few days, but never for long. It wasn't until later that he would start going away for weeks, months even. Of course, he would always tell you beforehand, and he would always come back with a new trinket, a shorter haircut or a new way to say 'I love you'. But no matter how much you begged for him to stay, asked him why he wouldn't stay, he would always grip your arms tight and shake his head, confirming what you already knew: he just couldn't.
"I've got to go," he'd say. Even if it meant leaving behind the people he loved, he would go. You found comfort in the ones close to you, but none could soothe the dull ache in your chest that you felt whenever he decided to just up and run.
Of course you would miss him. At times, you would even think to hate him. Thoug
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Literature
male!BelgiumXReader - Eden
You don't know what happened. He used to be everything to you; even when work was pressing down on you, when your friends were acting out and straining your feelings, all you needed to do was go back to him and melt into his arms. One hug from him was all it took for your worries to melt away like lemon drops. One kiss, and you were catapulted into a land where everything was better, a place where you could relax. Only you and him; no-one else mattered.
"Ik vind je heel erg leuk." I really like you. That was all you needed to hear before falling under his spell. He worked his charms on you without realising and you fell for it completely. The catalyst to your recent conflicting thoughts.
Being with him was like finding the leprechaun's sanctuary over the rainbow; brilliant and inviting. The rush of a new love was exciting. But it made you blind to what was real and what wasn't. Once the thrill faded away, what was left?
"Ik ben verliefd op jou." I'm in love with you. Ever
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Literature
IcelandXReader - Cold Hands, Warm Heart
"Do you ever wonder what it would be like if we never met?" (e/c) eyes meet violet. His long digits come to a stop right above your navel and curl up, beating a faint rhythm onto your abdomen.
His hands trail down your sides. So cold, so cold – but they leave a trail of blushing skin in their wake. You quiver and pull him to lie against you.
"No," he says, holding your stare. "I don't want to." A pleasant shiver runs through you as his arms wrap around your frame. You grin, the split between your lips only widening as he shifts closer. "Meeting you was best thing that ever happened to me."
You've heard the saying before: cold hands, warm heart. But Emil is an extreme. Frozen hands, burning heart. You don't need to be near him to feel the strong pulse of his love, nor to sense the hidden heat, the desire in his hands.
You bury your face into your pillow to hide the blush spreading across your cheeks at your indecent thoughts. "Am I better than liquorice?" You ask, tilting your hea
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Literature
RomanoXReader - Spectrum
Red
He's wearing red. A peculiar combination, a red shirt with a black tie. Slick, black trousers. He looks very formal – too formal to be sitting outside a dingy bar. You're intrigued by him. When you finally work up the nerve to talk to him, you learn of the source of his fury; a wedding, a runaway bride and a cancelled reception. He's piqued your interest. Moving closer, you listen to his words; red, passionate, angry – just like his shirt.
Orange
You've shaken him up. Of course he's still angry; it was less than a year ago he was left at the altar, but now he channels that anger into his work. With his anger misdirected, he can put only positive energy into your budding relationship and his own hobbies – he doesn't take you as hard as he used to. You like it better this way – the feeling of knowing his passion can be controlled, just for you.
You come to see him almost every day. He produces more work when you’re around, he says, as if you're his muse.
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RussianRevolution
the real slim shady
United Kingdom
Sunflower - Free Icon by etNoirSunflower - Free Icon by etNoirSunflower - Free Icon by etNoir

hello! I go by the short and sweet Al, but you can call me Polly or bologna if you like!

I'm not entirely sure what I'm doing here or how I even got here in the first place, but I write extremely short fanfiction sometimes! other times, I write extremely short and confusing journal entries!

I'm also English! cheerio! toodle-pip! bloody crumpets! Doctor Who!

I try not to take myself too seriously, so don't worry about me! I'll be fine! thick-skinned like a rhino but not as wrinkly! ha ha ha!

I feel like an old lady sometimes, so I tend to use exclamation marks and onomatopoeia to express myself better and to seem cool and hip! yip yip! beep beep! vroom vroom!

I like Hetalia a lot! you won't find me writing for anything else! other than Hetalia, I also like Daily Lives of High School Boys! and thunder! and dogs! and cats! and birds! and video games! and short movies! and spaghetti! and bread! fresh bread!! nice!!!!

if you're interested you're always welcome to join me in my revelry! I love new friends! it's always a party when I'm online! have fun! eat some cake! enjoy yourself!

hairless cat love stamp by OrangeOspreystamp - #eggsthetic by manqo-teaSTAMP: Dog Lover by zungzwangStamp | Dreamer by CuteSightPyjama Days Stamp by Kezzi-RoseLeo Stamp by mylastelNocturnal Stamp by Toy-Soulnice stamp! by pIantkidSupport Boys In Skirts Stamp by catcatdragooStamp - Milk Lover by firstfear
Interests
I'm queer
stabbed in the belly by a spear

Journal History

Comments


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:icondancingxghosts:
DancingxGhosts Featured By Owner Jun 24, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
Sorry, I was just browsing your page, and whilst reading your bio this sprung out at me...

-->I'm also English! cheerio! toodle-pip! bloody crumpets! Doctor Who!

I died reading that bit haha! 


Apologies for the randomness ^.^
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:iconrussianrevolution:
RussianRevolution Featured By Owner Jun 25, 2015
heh he heh.. this is how the English do it ;)

it's just me poking a bit of fun, there are virtually zero people below the age of 90 who actually use those terms anywhere in Britain. same goes for Doctor Who, it's far more popular across the globe than it is in its native country. embarrassing

thanks for sharing your amusement, though! i do try my best to please Lovely Shoujo (Spy) [V] 
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:icondancingxghosts:
DancingxGhosts Featured By Owner Jun 25, 2015  Hobbyist Writer
We British have a strange sense of humour haha! 

Uuh, I use toodle-pip and cheerio haha! Mainly when i'm being sarcastic though haha!

That's ok, I did enjoy reading through the bio, and that bit in particular tickled me :D 
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:iconrussianrevolution:
RussianRevolution Featured By Owner Jun 28, 2015
that's the British way, and it's what the world loves us for Sunglasses are good 

actually, sometimes I use cheerio, 'guv' and even 'old bean' in speech, but only ever when I'm mimicking the thicker Cockney accents you sometimes hear in the city!! I do often call my friends 'beans', though! Bear Emoji-24 (Laughing) [V1] 
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:iconnaked-toes:
Naked-toes Featured By Owner Jul 14, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Tagged~ [link]
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:iconrussianrevolution:
RussianRevolution Featured By Owner Jul 18, 2013
wow this is the best day of my life I feel so special
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:iconnaked-toes:
Naked-toes Featured By Owner May 19, 2013  Hobbyist Writer
Thank you for the watch~ :hug:
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:iconrussianrevolution:
RussianRevolution Featured By Owner May 19, 2013
No problem! :)
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:iconuniversal-stardust:
Universal-Stardust Featured By Owner Feb 16, 2013
Welcome to :iconthe-creative-female:
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:iconrussianrevolution:
RussianRevolution Featured By Owner Feb 16, 2013
Thank you! It's really nice of you to welcome me! I'm glad to be part of this group! :)
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