#… ah the feel of denmark

[eek-a-tron]

From Asgard to Jotunheim: Discover the 10 Realms With These RPG Cards

“Data wizard Walt Hickey [satirically] lays out an infographic breakdown of 'War of the Realms'! Listed in order of quality of life, here is your cheat sheet for the realms — the vibe and inhabitants of each, what they’d be like to visit … ”

That’s … certainly one way to put it

… ok what Asgardian wrote this

From this War of the Realms tongue-in-cheek piece

[6ebe]

well that match definitely felt like a waste of over 2 hours of my time.

[teaboot]

name as many countries as you can now

Ah fuck ah shit fuck

Canada Australia USAmerica Brazil Mexico China Taiwan Russia Sweden Ukraine Spain Germany France Egypt Palestine Jordan Sudan Italy South Korea North Korea Thailand Japan Nepal Hungary(?) Czech Republic (They keep changing their name tho so IDK) Turkey Iran Istanbul(?) Belgium Austria Poland India Denmark(?) England…. Wait are Scotland and Ireland attached under England? I don’t know Jack shit all about the whole… British… area. Scotland and Ireland feel like they should be countries. And uuuuuuuuuuhhhhhh oh god why am I so dumb. Nigeria…. Hawai’i is technically America I know that but it also should be a country. Is Chad a country? Norway. Prussia doesn't exist anymore right. Greece. Portugal. Antarctica. The Arctic. God help me

[the-offside-rule]

Charles Leclerc (Scuderia Ferrari) - All I Want For Christmas

Requested: yes

Prompt: All I Want For Christmas w Charles Leclerc

Warnings: none

Y/n was on the phone with her boyfriend Charles. For the holidays, this is how they communicated since he lived in Monaco and she would visit her family back home in Denmark. They started dating during Charles' first year in Formula One when she visited with her uncle in Sauber. They met just before the season came to an end. She came into the hospitality, laughing with her uncle and speaking alanguage that seemed like no one would ever understand. But to Charles? To Charles, he sat listening to her in awe. He liked her voice. He listened in awe as she spoke, subconsciously smiling to himself. When she was by herself, Charles turned to try and strike up a conversation. "Excuse me, miss?" he asked. The girl turned, her (y/c/h) hair was half up and half down and her (y/c/e) eyes looked up at him. He melted and found himself stuttering, trying to form some words. "Is this taken seat? I mean, is this teat saken, wait-" She giggled as she watched him fumble with his words. "Is this seat taken?" he finally blurted out. "Not unless you're going to sit here with me." He smiled and sat down next to her and from then, it was history.

"I wish I could hug you right now. I miss you so much." Y/n smiled softly at him through the phone. "I know mon cœur. I miss you too but you'll have me in a few days." She hid her actual feelings with a forced smile. She had spent Christmas with Charles and his family last year and the year before but he'd never spent Christmas with her's. "I have to go mon cœur, dinner is nearly ready." Charles and Y/n said their goodbyes and hung up. She let out a sigh and walked down to the kitchen to her mother, who was baking. "Ah, you're finished then? How was Charles?" Y/n shrugged her shoulders. "I don't know mom. He was giving such short answers." Y/n said, rubbing her eyes. "Oh darling, I'm sure he's just very tired like you are." Y/n scoffed. "Maybe he's tired of me. We hardly see eachother now." Y/n walked towards the bowl of cake batter and began stirring. "Don't be silly. I don't think he would be tired of you." Y/n rolled her eyes up towards the ceiling in a attempt to hold her tears in. "I won't know until he tells me or until I find out."

"Y/n, he isn't tired of you." her mum reassured her. "But how do you know mom?" Her mother opened her mouth and closed it again. "I don't know. All I know it that he isn't tired of you. You just have to believe me." Y/n nodded and smiled light-heartedly. "Thanks mom. I think I'm gonna stay up a little while longer." Her mother arched a brow. "Are you sure? Were all going to bed." Y/n smiled and nodded. "Of course. I want to do some baking. You can have an early night." Her mum kissed her forehead. "Don't stay up too late." Y/n agreed and watched as her mother went to bed. Y/n sat up baking like she said she would but she didn't stay up for a little bit, she stayed up most of the night. After all her siblings had wrapped the presents, after all the timed lights went out, after everything but still, she went to bed so she wouldn't get given out to by her mother in the morning.

Y/n's eyes fluttered open to the sound of her nieces and nephews running around, waking up their parents and then running into to wake up Y/n. "Guys, guys, I'm up, I'm up." She croaked as they bounced on her bed. "Then get up! We need to open our gifts from Santa!" the children shouted. "No, no, no, no, no. Let her sleep! She had a long night baking for you!" They whined but got down off the bed and left Y/n in bed. She let out a sigh of relief as she could finally lie back down again. It had only been a few minutes when she heard her bedroom door open and someone creep their way in. She pulled a face when she heard hushed voices. Why were her whole family just standing around her door, whispering? Y/n felt a weight bring her bed down but she figured it was probably her mother coming up to check on her and she would have wholeheartedly believed it if she hadn't heard the opening of All I Want For Christmas Is You playing. She had her back to them, so she couldn't see them. Her eyes opened, confused as anything but then, she heard a voice. "I, dont want a lot for Christmas. There is just one thing I need-" She hopped up like a bolt of lightning. Surely he wasn't here. Was he? Her bottom lip trembled as she saw Charles with his phone in front of him, playing music and reading the lyrics off to sing them to her. "I don't care about the presents, underneath the Christmas tree-" She began crying as he continued singing. Then she looked over to her family behind her, her mother filming as the others looked on, grinning. "Why are you guys recording?"

"Mon cœur, You're interrupting." Charles said quickly and then returned to singing, making her laugh. "Make my wish come true! All I Want For Christmas -" Charles looked up from his phone and into her blue eyes. "Is You." The Danish family clapped as Y/n engulfed her boyfriend in a tight hug. "Did you enjoy your Christmas gift?" her mother asked. Y/n looked over, still crying but now smiling as she nodded. "Mon cœur, dont cry, dont cry." Charles said, rubbing her back and shushing her. "A heads up would have been nice so I wouldn't cry!" Charles kissed her cheek. "I didn't know you would cry, now did I?" They laughed together. "Merry Christmas mon cœur." He whispered. Her grip loosened and she kissed his lips. "Merry Christmas my love."

[hetalian-veteran]

Art Styles I Personally Think the Hetalia Characters Looked Their Best In (and Why) Part 3

Links to Pt.1, Pt.2

Please note that I am referring to the show and not the webcomic. This is primarily because I didn't always have access to the webcomic and thus the show is what I've always been most familiar with. I will also refrain from talking about characters that have only appeared in one season.

Also, please keep in mind that these are just my opinions. And if you have any different ideas of what designs looked better, that's totally okay. At the end of the day, I'm just here to have fun.

Also, we are talking about the Nordics today. And since these guys are some of my favorite characters, prepare for me to be very opinionated. You have been warned.

Denmark: Season 4

I don't know if this is a hot take or not, especially since we've only seen him in this art style a few times, but dangit, Denmark looked his absolute best in season 4. And you want to know why? Because the other seasons make him look like a literal child. And I'm not saying "child" as in, "Oh he just has a childish personality." No, I'm talking "child" as in "He physically looks like a little kid." Here, Denmark looks like an actual adult like the rest of the nations. Not to mention that I like the duller blond color of his hair here. It helps a little to set him apart from the other blonde characters whose hair is typically colored bright yellow. Also, I prefer his eyes colored a darker blue. I just think it looks nice. Also, his wardrobe is immaculate. 'Nuff said.

Sweden: Season 4

I was close to saying that I didn't have a favorite design for Sweden, because they all look so similar to me. But I ended up landing on his design for season 4 because of his outfit. It's simple, but I like the navy blue on the lighter shade, as well as the whole outfit itself being trimmed with gold. I really don't have much else to say on Sweden. Huh, I guess I'm not as opinionated on him as I thought I was.

Finland: Season 4

Ah yes, the character whose eyes keep changing colors. While I like how soft and rounded his design is in later seasons, as they help convey his softer and more demure personality, I still prefer his original design from season 4. The reason is largely his eyes. Not a lot of other Hetalia characters have brown eyes, and I liked this detail about Finland. It's a color choice that makes him surprisingly unique. I'd also like to mention that the color brown is a warmer color and has a psychological connection to feelings of warmth and comfort. Feelings that I feel are associated with aph Finland as a character, as I've always seen him as one of the more stable and grounded of the group.

Norway: Season 7

I know I've been giving season 7 of Hetalia some grief for making the characters look too childish or dorky looking, but somehow this has not affected aph Norway. If anything, I'd say he looks at his best here. In the previous seasons, his eyes always looked dull and lifeless. I understand that's supposed to be reflective of the character's deadpan and stoic personality, but it always threw me off. But here there's a glint of light inside his eyes, helping make him look alive while still maintaining his stoic appearance. Also, the hair and the cross hairclip are beautiful. His hair is so light and fluffy, and it's styled beautifully. And while it's not in this picture, we do still have his floating hair curl, which is always a nice touch. A classic staple of a design by Himaruya.

Iceland: Season 7

I prefer this design for aph Iceland because this is one where he looks the most like both an angsty teenager and a child. Which makes sense, as he's the youngest of the Nordic Five. It's simultaneously giving off "Ugh, don't talk to me!" vibes, combined with "I hope my big brother remembered to put a juice box in my lunch today," energy. I also like how similar he looks to Norway from season seven here as well. To me it's a cute nod to the fact(?) that they are biologically brothers. Also, this outfit? It's adorable, and I love it. The earmuffs are everything.

[rqgnarok]

music to my eyes - jamie tartt

fandom: ted lasso

wc: 4,266

warnings: spoilers for the season 3 finale of ted lasso, jamie being a lil self deprecating. reader uses female pronouns.

summary: jamie has a crush on the band’s bassist. 

author’s note at the end!

Jamie’s so, so late.

Roy’s gonna have his balls. It’s the first training for the Queen’s Cup final against Tottenham– their first one without Ted, a little something before the freaking Champion’s League starts next year– and Jamie’s having the worst morning of his life.

He woke up late for his 4 am training that ran long, traffic was absolute shit and now he’s sprinting– not running, cause he’s not allowed to after he and Colin almost ran over the Prince of Denmark while racing each other to the locker room, a story for another day– down the hallway with Roy Kent’s fury just waiting to find its rightful owner. 

He didn’t even have time to comb his hair today. It still looks amazing, but it’s the routine that matters. For his mental health or whatever. 

Maybe that’s why he feels so jittery and doesn’t look where he’s going as he makes his way to the locker room. Jamie’s got his bag clutched to his chest and his headphones hanging around his neck, his jacket halfway on before he gave up and left it trailing down his side like a sad blanket. 

He’s cursing whatever Gods control alarm clocks and traffic and hairbrushes when he knocks onto someone. It’s so forceful it sends them both to the ground with a grunt and a little ah! of surprise. Jamie tries not to grow annoyed and fails. He considers laying on the ground and becoming one with the carpet so he doesn’t face Roy’s justified punishment and sighs out his nose, pushing himself to a sitting position.

“–so sorry,” and it’s a woman, Jamie just knocked out a woman in his rush to work. What’s next? Is he gonna hit a cat with his car? Maybe spit on a kid’s face? She keeps babbling apologies, unaware of Jamie’s foul mood. “–supposed to be at her office but there’s just– there are so many hallways–”

“‘s alright,” he cuts her off harsher than he means to, guilt stabbing at him when she looks at him with wide, remorseful eyes. Jamie sighs, dusting off his clothes and standing, offering her a hand. “Me fault for bein’ in a rush. Should’ve seen where I was going.”

“Oh, god, you actually know where you’re going,” she says with a grimace, accepting his hand. She’s on her feet and standing too close to Jamie for a second that feels like a lifetime– almost nose-to-nose with Richmond’s greatest. Her laugh is stuttery and nervous when she steps back, barely meeting Jamie’s eye.

She’s cute. Jamie’s not planning to do anything about it, especially not with his fine for being late slowly becoming one for missing training but she is. Cute. His mouth lifts in a half smile at the thought, charmed. 

“I was looking for Rebecca Welton’s office but I only got myself lost,” she says sheepishly, putting her hair behind her ear every couple of seconds since it keeps stubbornly falling out of place. Jamie’s fingers twitch a little but no. No, absolutely not, he’s not doing this to himself, no sir. “Is there any way you can give me directions without having to go with me? I don’t want you to be late for– shit. Practice, huh?”

Jamie thinks she’s the smartest woman that’s ever walked the face of the Earth until he remembers where they are. At Richmond’s training facilities. She’s looking at a disheveled man in a sports outfit. The story kind of tells itself.

“I– yeah,” Jamie stutters a little, clearing his throat to disguise it. “There’s, um, it ain’t a problem. I can take you there if you want.”

Her entire posture screams relief as soon as he offers, and it’s enough for Jamie to make up his mind even if she hasn’t said yes yet. “Would you? They said in the group chat not to be late and, like, they weren’t specific about it but you just know when a message’s for you, you know. And here I am, late–”

A beat.

“–and rambling,” she smiles at him again, the sight tugging at Jamie’s chest as he stands there like an idiot, his brain rebooting whenever she does it. “Yes, please. I’d really appreciate it.”

And so Jamie asks a kitman to take his stuff to the locker room while he walks her up to Rebecca’s office. His hand hovers but doesn’t quite touch the small of her back while he blabbers his way through small talk. Nice weather, today, innit, traffic was absolute hell though. Oh, you’re not from around here, that’s nice, do you plan on going sightseeing?

He delivers her to Rebecca’s floor to a thankful, ecstatic Higgins, who welcomes her with a hearty shake of the hand and promises that she hasn’t missed anything important. She’s barely able to spare him a smile and a quick thanks before the door’s closed behind them and Jamie’s standing there on his own, smiling at nothing.

He’s still wearing a dopey grin when he finally finds himself on the field, Roy yelling at him to run laps until sundown for being late. His legs are killing him, he’s £200 poorer, and he didn’t even get the woman’s name; but nothing can drag him down from his high and make him forget how she’d squeezed his arm in gratitude, touch warm and calloused against his skin. 

The next day Rebecca’s there before practice starts, looking tall and pleased as she claps her hands and shares the big news: since the final of the Queen’s Cup is being held right here at Nelson Road, she managed to get a band to play during the halftime show. They’ll be here the entire next two weeks for rehearsals and staging, so everyone must be on their best behavior if they don’t want their name in the summer transfer market.

Jamie doesn’t connect the dots until he sees her again, this time at a local bar big enough to house less than two thousand people. Keeley hears from Roy who hears from Beard, who heard from Higgins that Rebecca said the secret band was gonna hang around the city for a couple of other smaller, quick gigs. 

Jamie manages to excuse himself from video games at Colin’s with the guys and offers himself to Keeley as a buffer between her and Roy at a bar tonight. Though, in Jamie’s very humble and very right opinion, they’re already on their way to getting back together for good.

The band’s gathered a nice crowd, the lighting low and the thrum of the music hammering on Jamie’s teeth. He’s nursing the beer Roy bought him, the man charmed enough by Keeley’s presence that he let Jamie bend his rigorous diet regime. Just for the night. 

It takes three songs for the bassist to speak up, a makeshift spotlight landing on her, sweaty and delighted at being onstage. Jamie’s blood rushes to his face and his vision blacks out for a second. 

It’s her. No longer is she lost and out of her element, shyly asking a stranger for help. Both of her feet are steady on the ground, the strap of her bass snug around her neck. Her fingers are toying with the strings even when no song’s playing, an air of rightful confidence washing over the room as it takes her in. Jamie isn’t the only one suddenly breathless.

She grins against the microphone, coy. “Thank you so much for having us, Jaded Joker. We’re Karma Police, and we hope you have as much fun hearin’ us as we do playing for you.”

They fall into another song with that quick introduction and Jamie can’t take his eyes off her, barely hearing the song as the world around him slows down. Her clothes and jewelry sway with her to the rhythm of the music, the lights shifting seamlessly into different colors making her look ethereal. 

Keeley clocks it in immediately.

“She’s good, huh?” she nods at the stage where Jamie’s stranger is moving to the beat of the bass like no one’s watching, shamelessly enjoying herself and making funny faces at her bandmates. “Fuckin’ smoking, too.”

Jamie only hums in a very Roy Kent-like way, knowing there’s no fooling Keeley fucking Jones. The last thing he needs is to give her details and have her dip a toe into Jamie’s nonexistent love life.

Of course, he doesn’t take into consideration that Roy’s a brazen gossip.

“So,” Sam elongates the word as he’s spotting Jamie on the press the next day, happy watching him grunt at the effort. “How was the band last night?”

Jamie almost drops the damned thing on his chest.

“Roy said you enjoyed it,” he continues giddily like he didn’t almost commit accidental manslaughter by catching Jamie off guard. “Especially the bassist. What was her name?”

Sam fakes confusion for less than a minute before Jamie gives, mumbling it under his breath. He’d been weak and googled Karma Police in the privacy of his car before going home, swiping through the images that popped up until he recognized her face. 

(Y/N) (Y/L/N), the article he clicked on informed him. Jamie had repeated the name under his breath just to see what it felt like on his tongue for an embarrassing amount of time. 

Thanks to Karma Police’s bassist and lyricist (Y/N) (Y/L/N), the band’s sophomore album New Perspective has found a home in people’s hearts and high on the global charts.

Keeley wasn’t kidding. She’s good. 

“Oh,” Sam realizes, some of his amusement softening into genuine interest when he watches Jamie’s face do whatever the fuck it's doing. “Oh, you like like her.”

Jamie immediately flushes under Sam’s gaze, making sure the weight is safe in its place before physically fleeing the conversation. Sam doesn’t mention it to anyone, which Jamie appreciates so badly he could cry a little, but he does find his eyes across the locker room later when Rebecca comes in, four people in tow.

“Everybody, these are the wonderful musicians I spoke to you about the other day,” she says it in a way that screams I’m a pleasant human being and embarrass me and I will end your career right where you stand all at once. “We’re on a little tour of the installations and I thought we’d all come to say hi to wrap it up.”

The boys are charming and welcome them with ease. They’re not one of the most liked teams in England despite their bad runs for nothing, but Jamie’s frozen the second he catches sight of her. She’s a step behind one of her bandmates, shaking hands and smiling politely at conversations while staying slightly in the background, the stage persona from the previous night gone like taking off a jacket. 

Jamie takes pride in the way their eyes meet and her tight expression loosens, her smile blossoming into something more genuine, less unsure.

“Hey, stranger,” she says a little awkwardly after having gathered the courage Jamie couldn’t to cross the room and say hi. It feels like they’re alone in a room full of people, and for a second Jamie thinks he sees Sam stealing a few looks, making sure he keeps the others away and distracted for a little privacy. “Did you make it to training the other day?”

“What?” Jamie blanks like an idiot, then shakes his head when he remembers how they met; both of them, late for their respective responsibilities. “Oh! Oh, yeah. I– yeah. I had to run for me life to make up for it, but I made it.”

“Good,” she smiles, shifting in her place. “I, um. I’m glad we get to play for you guys. What you’ve done this past season, getting back to the top, has been unbelievable.”

“You’re unbelievable,” he replies, awestruck, and backtracks when she looks a little apprehensive. She’s doing the hair thing again, combing it back while it stubbornly escapes its place every couple of seconds. A nervous tic, maybe. “I mean– some friends and I, we saw you last night at the Jaded Joker. If anything, it’s an honor we get you guys to play for us.”

“Oh!” she seems pleased, ducking her head at the compliment. Her shoulders loosen again, and Jamie tries not to feel like he just scored a goal against Man City. “Oh, you should’ve said hi! Did you enjoy yourselves?”

“I did,” he says, too soft, and it feels like an admission of something when her eyes search his face, for a moment landing on his mouth before putting herself back together. “Up there, it’s like– it’s like you forget everyone else. You’re made for the stage.”

If anything, (Y/N)’s delight only strengthens, tugging at the neckline of her shirt. Jamie finds himself trying to follow the trail of new skin and flushes as well when he catches himself just in time. 

“Thank you,” she matches his tone. “You’d think it’d be nervewracking but it’s… silence. In my head. Does that make sense? I feel like it doesn’t.”

“It does,” Jamie agrees, breathless. It’s exactly how he feels when he gets the ball on his feet, every anxiety and worry and part of him he doesn’t like quieting the minute he steps on a pitch. “I get the same when I play. Peace in the chaos, I guess”

(Y/N) looks at him like she’s discovering the world’s eight wonder. 

“Kids!” her bandmate breaks the moment by coming over, arm draped around (Y/N)’s shoulder. (Y/N) blinks, looking a little shell-shocked. “Sorry to interrupt this party, but rehearsal awaits.”

Disappointment claws at Jamie’s belly, but before he can let it fester the conversation continues, bubbly and loud. “Alas! We’ll be done around 5. You’re welcome to visit then. We’re going to the third floor, I think.”

(Y/N)’s only amused at her friend’s antics, even if Jamie’s back to having a knot in his throat out of nervousness alone. Jesus, what’s wrong with him? It’s like he’s eight again and crushing on the cute boy that lived in the apartment in front of the Tartt’s. 

“See you then?” (Y/N) says, hopeful, and Jamie thinks it’s only fair he’s brave as well and nods as resolutely as he can. 

“I’ll be there.”

He ends up having to ask Higgins for directions, after promising he’s not gonna stir up any trouble at least four times. It takes Roy passing by and giving a few reassuring grunts, guaranteeing Jamie’s best behavior before Higgins gives him the location. When Jamie goes to thank him, Roy only points at him menacingly, though lacking his usual frown, and says don’t fuck this up. 

Rehearsals are just wrapping up when Jamie gets there, instruments being packed and people saying goodbye to each other when he makes his way into the room. He immediately finds (Y/N) sitting on the piano playing a complicated melody.

She lights up when she sees him, the music seizing. “You made it!”

Jamie stops her from standing up, instead sitting next to her after she scoots over to give him room. “That was nice. A song of yours?”

(Y/N) shrugs. “Hopefully soon. You never know, when you’re writing. You start working on a song and it ends up being a completely different thing from when you started.”

“Sounds messy,” Jamie says, a little consternated at the thought. Fortunately, (Y/N) laughs.

“It is. Do you play?”

“Fuck no,” he says quickly, then tries to explain himself as she splutters in amused surprise. “I mean, I don’t think I can. It seems pretty complicated. I’ve always been better with me feet.”

He reaches for the keys and begins playing some nonsense, loud and offkey, knowing it’ll make her laugh again.

“No, you gotta–” she cackles, placing her hands on top of his and quieting the dissonant echo of the keys. Jamie feels the tug at his lips, insistent, automatic, the same rush of delight that courses over him whenever he’s in her presence. “Gentle. Be gentle about it, jeez.”

She lines up their hands so her fingers move his and begins playing a quiet, fun melody. Jamie’s doing shit other than staring at her face, slightly twisted in concentration as she mumbles the notes under her breath. G, G, G, F, G, B, G, G…

“I know this one,” Jamie mumbles in recognition. (Y/N) turns her head to smile at him, pleased. “‘s from Nottin Hill, innit?”

“And a million other movies,” she murmurs back, unable to break the spell that’s fallen over the room. “I wouldn’t have taken you for a romantic.”

“‘s my favorite film,” he concedes, finding it incredibly easy to be honest when they’re sitting side by side like this, alone, their sides warm against each other. He loves his teammates, but (Y/N) didn’t know him when he was awful and arrogant, too cocky. There’s nothing she holds against him, no standard he needs to meet for her to be happy in his company. “Cried me eyes out at the end. Though I’ll deny it if you ever ask in front of anyone.”

(Y/N) laughs. “I promise I won’t. It’s a good movie. Doesn’t beat While You Were Sleeping, though.”

Jamie’s expression remains blank. (Y/N)’s face falls into disbelief, her hands tightening against his. “You’ve never watched While You Were Sleeping.”

He’s heard of it, but it’s hilarious to watch her forget herself, any sign of nervousness or polite shyness finally out the window. Jamie likes it– likes her, wants her to be comfortable with him and stop holding herself so tightly whenever she’s off the stage. 

“You poor, sheltered boy,” she exhales, aghast. “Holy fuck, I can’t believe I’m about to introduce you to the best romantic comedy ever made.”

Jamie goes to take the opening but stops himself at the last second. He knows this process; the flirting, the leaning in for just a moment so she smells his cologne then pulling away, leaving her wanting more. The asking for a date, a fancy dinner, then taking her home. Sneaking out in the middle of the night, dodging calls until she stops trying to reach him. 

He’s been doing it for years. He wants to desperately break the cycle and he wants to do it with her, but does he have it in him? Jamie’s been working on himself harder than he’s worked for anything else in his life, but what if he’s one slip away from becoming his old self? From turning out like his dad?

Sure, the old man’s changed, or– well. He’s trying to. But whether Jamie likes it or not he sees a little too much of him in himself sometimes, and he can’t do that to her. He’s known her for less than a week and he knows she deserves better. Everyone does. 

Roy told him not to fuck it up. Maybe this is what he meant. 

His expression stutters, shatters, and reestablishes itself in a matter of a moment, a blink of an eye. Jamie knocks his shoulder into hers gently, leaning back into place after a second. He teases: “And who made you the expert, eh?”

Rather than letting it drop, (Y/N) takes the bait just like Jamie knew she would. They stay there until a security guard comes to kick them out for the night, and they talk about everything and nothing. Movies, songs, bands they like, and foods they don’t. Jamie’s favorite players when he was a kid, his hero-like worship for Roy Kent, and how he’s made him a better player, a better man.

(Y/N) shares with him the first time she held a guitar in her hands, the albums she listened to when she was a kid that changed her as a person, realizing she could create magic through words and music. Her favorite cities to tour, how long she’s known her bandmates, how she’d die and kill for them if necessary.

By the time he’s walking into the pitch at Nelson Road two weeks later, the roar of the crowd around him swallowing every other sound, Jamie’s spent every free moment of his time with (Y/N) (Y/L/N). It was unavoidable, helpless as he is in his attraction to her, but Jamie doesn’t know what to do without, as Roy so carefully put it, fucking it up.

It hadn’t helped when (Y/N) snuck into the locker room to wish him luck, showing him the Richmond bracelet she was gonna wear onstage with a roll of the eyes. “Our stylist wouldn’t let me wear the jersey, but don’t you doubt for a second that I’m rooting for you, Tartt.”

Jesus Christ. Jamie had felt his cheeks warm up and dared to thank her with a loud, exaggerated kiss on the forehead that left them both grinning like idiots and Roy staring at them knowingly.

Before Jamie followed his teammates into the field, Roy had pulled him aside with a hand on his shoulder. “Tartt–”

“I know, I know,” he answered a little too self-deprecatingly. “Don’t fuck it up.”

But Roy only raised his eyebrows, realization dawning on his features. “You think I say that because I think you will?”

Jamie mumbled some not-words under his breath and Roy cursed. “Prick. I say it because you deserve good things, dickhead. And you should let them come to you when they do.”

Good things, Jamie thinks after one of his passes gives Dani the first goal of the night. The younger man jumps into his arms while hugging him tight and laughing into his ear, their teammates joining their embrace less than a second later. 

He looks towards the general area of the VIP seats where he knows (Y/N) and the rest of the band are cheering them on. He pictures her screaming at the top of her lungs, arms in the air, and being happy for him like she’s known him for all his life.

She might be the best thing. Whether he deserves her or not, Jamie wants her. Wants to be with her, watch romantic comedies until they both cry and spend his free afternoons watching her play the piano while he plays FIFA in the living room. He wants songs written about him that have him blushing whenever he hears them in public and for her to come to his games and be able to dedicate every goal to her he ever scores.

Good things. Yeah, Jamie can get down on that.

“You fucking asshole!” she jumps into his arms the second she finds him on the pitch after the game, a medal hanging from his neck and sweat sticking to his skin. (Y/N) doesn’t seem to care as she lets him lift her in the air, holding onto each other tight. “You did it! You fucking did it!”

“I missed your show,” he replies instead, only a little bummed. He’s seen her play live before but there was an itch under his skin the entire half-time, knowing how close she was and being unable to get to her. Jamie grins. “And stole it, too.”

“There he is,” she teases gleefully. “For a second there I thought you were gonna be humble about this.”

“I don’t even know what that word means,” he says cockily.

“And how’s Mr. Man of the Match gonna celebrate, huh?” she wonders, hitting him lightly on the chest now that he’s put her back on the ground. “A fancy club? Getting shitfaced with the boys? A date with your left hand?”

Jamie puts his hand on hers at the last second, stopping her from pulling away. She sways into him, all traces of joking vanishing from her expression. He forces himself to stay on her face, the urge to look away defeated by how she’s looking at him. In wonder, open, hopeful.

She deserves good things, too. Jamie is determined to be the one to give them to her. 

“I was thinking dinner?” he asks, fidgeting a little on his feet. “Maybe a movie? Thought I could see what While You Were Sleeping’s all about.”

(Y/N)’s mouth is fighting against a smile, somewhat hesitant still. Jamie doesn’t blame her, he’s been beating around this bush the entire time they’ve known each other.

“You want any company?” she wonders.

“Well, what kind of date would it be if it was just me?” he forces his features into faux confusion, watching her finally lose the battle and beam like a kid on Christmas. Her fingers twitch where he’s holding onto her hand.

“Not a great one,” she concedes, looking like all of Jamie’s dreams. “How do you feel about Mexican?”

Awful. Jamie feels awful about Mexican. He’s a white sexy boy in all the ways that matter and his taste buds punish him for eating spicy food no matter how much he likes it. But he can compromise. He’s starting to realize there’s very little he wouldn’t do for (Y/N) (Y/L/N).

“I feel fantastic about anything you like,” he answers truthfully. “I’m sure me tongue will forgive me eventually.”

(Y/N) laughs, fingers in Jamie’s hold shifting so she can hold his hand. “I think there’s a good lyric somewhere in there.”

“You plannin’ on writing me a song?”

She smirks. “Bold of you to assume I haven’t yet.”

Jamie squeezes her hand, leaning in to kiss her cheek. 

“Can’t wait to hear it, love.”

___

there’s an ache in my bones to make a series out of this fic omg

i can’t believe the show’s over (is it tho????) so here’s some jamie fluff to heal our tender, mourning hearts. as always you’re welcome to tell me what you think and chat jamie and ted lasso as much as you’d like! thank u for reading AND for all the love on my last jamie piece that you can read here!

<3

masterlist / ao3 / ko-fi

[daisynik7]

Saw that your requests are open and I've had a scenario on my mind that I think only your way of writing reader and Nanami would do justice to: Nanami and reader are cuddling, she's tad bit more clingy then usual, hands wandering, playing with his tie. Then she tells him she is craving a Danish and he gets more handsy, but then she pulls back and says "the pastry". Nanami is speechless before he hears her laughing, telling him she's joking (and he just can't her get away with that right?)

Pairing: husband!Nanami x f!reader

Word Count: ~1.5k

cw: smut – soft dom!Nanami, mutual masturbation, blowjob, cum-eating, cunnilingus, vaginal fingering, PIV sex (missionary, mating press), multiple orgasms, Nanami uses every pet name in the book lol (princess, honey, love, sweetheart)

Author’s Note: Ahhhhh anon I’m absolutely honored you’d entrust me with this scenario because I LOVE IT. I really hope you like it!

It’s after dinner on a weeknight. Your husband, Nanami, too lazy to change out of his work attire, relaxes on the couch beside you, watching an episode of Jeopardy. “What is ‘The Grapes of Wrath’?” he answers, a smug look on his face when he gets it correct.

You roll your eyes playfully at him, nudging him. “Honey, you don’t have to answer in the form of a question, it’s just us here.”

“Where’s the fun in that?” he comments, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. 

You cuddle closer to him, leaning against his chest, fiddling with his spotted tie. He continues to play the game with himself. “What is Denmark?”

This gives you a naughty idea. You get a little more handsy, toying with the buttons on his dress shirt. Nanami’s concentration breaks a bit, eyeing you with curiosity and intrigue as you brush your palm across his chest, thumb grazing his nipples through the fabric. 

“Speaking of Denmark,” you mention, mouth hot on his ear, “I’m really craving a Danish inside me right now.” 

This gets his complete attention. He raises a brow at you, smirking. “Oh?” Sliding his hand behind your neck, excited, he tugs you in for a kiss. Before your lips meet, you pause, pulling back slightly. “I meant the pastry,” you tease, with a sly grin. 

The look on his face is priceless. He blinks several times, unable to say anything, trying to comprehend this mean prank. You laugh, “Oh honey, I’m only kidding!” Cupping his cheek, you shift towards him, nuzzling your nose to his. “I’m sorry. I just couldn’t resist.” You pout, begging for a kiss.

He doesn’t move, staring at you with a serious expression, jaw clenched. “You think this is funny?” he asks in low sinister voice, pressing his forehead to yours. “Look how excited you got me with your little joke.” He glances down at his lap, your gaze following, seeing the bulge protruding from beneath his slacks. 

You gulp, already salivating for your husband’s cock. “I said I was sorry,” you respond, batting your lashes at him, feigning innocence.

“Sorry is not going to cut it, sweetheart. I can’t let you get away with this so easily.” He shifts in his seat, erection growing harder and tighter in the confines of his trousers. You lean forward, hands sliding up his lap slowly until he stops you. “Ah, ah, ah. You don’t get to touch me after that stunt you pulled. You’re going to sit here and watch as I play with myself. Got it?”

You nod, pussy throbbing between your legs, staring at him as he unbuckles his belt and unzips his pants, removing them completely. Clad only his briefs with a small smirk on his face, he shoves the waistband down, boner stiff against his abdomen, glistening with a bead of precum at the tip. He wraps his fist around the shaft, stroking it, pace gradually increasing as you squeeze your thighs together, desperate to feel any sort of friction. A whine escapes from within your throat, unable to contain your arousal any longer. “Kento, please.”

His breathing is labored, expression turning wilder with lust. “Please what, princess?”

“Please touch me.”

He huffs out a chuckle. “You can do it yourself, can’t you honey? I know you can.”

You don’t argue with him, accepting this little form of punishment. At this point, it almost feels like torture, the way he denies you. You slide your sweats off hastily, showing off the frilly heart-patterned underwear you decided to wear tonight, not expecting TV trivia to lead to this. He doesn’t let up, stroking himself faster while he watches you strip, piece by piece. Soon, you’re naked beside him, laid down on the couch, thighs splayed for the perfect view. His expression changes, a frenzied look on his face, biting his lip at the sight of your pussy shiny with slick. He’s amazed at how wet you already are without even touching yourself. He’s swallows his desire, resisting the urge to taste you just yet almost forgetting the reason why he’s doing this in the first place. It’s all part of his plan to teach you a lesson about pranking him. Or maybe an excuse to do something really nasty tonight. Either way, he’s going to draw this out for as long as possible. 

Without wasting another second, you reach for your clit, flicking it with your middle finger, dipping into your slippery cunt, then back again on your swollen bud. You let out a gravelly moan, your own touch not enough to satisfy your desires. He’s unraveling quickly at the show you’re putting on for him, mesmerized by each stroke. “You said you’re craving a Danish, right? Go ahead.” He releases his grip on himself, shifting forward to present his thick cock near your lips. “Put it in your mouth and swallow.”

Lips surrounding his tip, one hand on his shaft and the other at your arousal, you blow him, surprised when he comes after a few bobs. “Good girl,” he purrs, rocking his hips back and forth, filling you with his warm cum. You swallow loudly, resisting the gag reflex as it hits the back of your throat, still tapping your slick-coated fingers on your clit. Finally, he touches you, caressing your cheek, thumb wiping at the corner of your mouth where his cum leaks out. “Have you learned your lesson, princess?” 

Not ready for this to be over, you shake your head no, his dick still hard on your tongue. 

He smiles. “Yeah, I didn’t think so. Is that cunt wet enough for me, honey? Let me see.”

You pull off him, laying back on the couch to spread your legs. He bows his head towards you, tongue out, lapping at your needy clit. The sensation causes you to whimper, the pleasure radiating out through your limbs. He’s always relentless when he eats you out, but this time, he wants you squirming for him more so than usual. Have you twitching and spasming so that you’re seeing stars and your muscles are sore the next day. Lips puckered at your bud, he slurps and sucks on you, middle and ring fingers slipping into your entrance, curling at the tips. He spits on your clit, coating his frothy, thick saliva all over you. “You take it so well, honey. Getting so wet for me.”

“Fuck!” you yell out, arching your back. 

He hums into your skin, delighted in the way you clench his digits, indicating how close you are to your climax. “Give it to me, love. Don’t you fucking hold back.” He continues to stimulate you until your quaking for him, moaning and cursing through your orgasm. You can hear the wet squelch of his fingers pumping in and out of you, gathering every drop of your cum. Embarrassed, you turn your head to the side, facing the back cushion of the couch. 

“Don’t look away, sweetie. Watch me.” He tips your chin towards him, sliding his shiny fingers in his mouth, licking your slick off. “You did such a good job, getting this pussy wet for me. You think you deserve this cock now?”

You nod, unable to form a coherent thought, completely enraptured by him. 

“Use your words, honey. I want to hear you say it.”

With the back of your hand, you wipe away the drool from your chin, swallowing hard. “I want your cock, baby. Please.”

He looms over you, intensity in his expression. “Then apologize.”

You suddenly remember what got you here in the first place. That silly joke. You bite your lip, holding back your giggle to keep up the serious act. “I’m sorry, Kento. I’m so sorry.”

Satisfied, he growls, “You better be. Now take this fucking dick like the good slut you are.” He rubs his cock on your bud, sliding it up and down your pussy lips before guiding it slowly into your entrance. “Fuck,” he mutters, sucking in a breath when he bottoms out. “You’re perfect. Absolutely perfect.” He thrusts his hips, slowly at first, relishing the way you squeeze around him. Eventually, he slides his palms behind your thighs, positioning your body into a mating press, pounding into you fiercely. Sweat rolling down his forehead, cheeks flushed, gaze concentrated on your face with your lips parted and moans pouring out wantonly with each pump. 

He reaches his second orgasm like this, shooting his hot load deep inside you. Before his pulls out, he massages your clit with his thumb, begging you to come again, smearing his cum on you. You do, eyes glazed over, body overflowing with ecstasy, voice hoarse from your incessant whining. Nanami lies next to you on the couch, cupping your face and kissing you for the first time during this whole ordeal. You relax against him, his tongue swirling around yours, pulling you closer into a tender embrace. 

Eventually, the two of you, still in a daze, make your way to the bathroom, cleaning yourselves up and getting ready for bed. Both of you are cozy in your pajamas, bundled under the covers, Nanami spooning you from behind. You nestle into his arms, interlocking your fingers with his. “But can we actually get a Danish though?”

He laughs, kissing the back of your neck and snuggling closer to you. “Tomorrow morning, for breakfast. The only Danish you’re getting tonight is me.” 

[soapieanxiety]

Historical Iceland: Part 2 - Electric Boogaloo

So we don’t have as many manga panels as we did for Iceland's early childhood, so I’m going to rely more on my historical knowledge and knowledge of Iceland's character to do some of the analysis in this part.

So we left off at around the 1100s, and Norway still hasn’t met Iceland yet. That’s going to change pretty quickly though, as we’re going to have to talk about the Age of the Sturlungs (it has a lot of names, such as the Sturlungen period, but no matter what name you call it, the content remains the same). The entire period can be summarized as a period of Icelandic history rifled with violence that ended with Iceland becoming Norwegian territory.

The King of Norway had originally wanted Iceland to be under its direct rule and encouraged the violence between the Icelanders. That’s basically how the whole thing started; I’m really simplifying it like I haven’t even mentioned Snorri Sturluson. He was the catalyst for the violence in Iceland, and it gets complicated from there. But the point is that the path for Iceland to meet Norway was not a pretty one.

If you want a full-blown ramble about just this era of Icelandic history, let me know. I’ll do it, but I’m trying to keep it short because there’s a lot to cover for this part.

Now during this time, I cannot imagine Iceland is having a good time. This happened after a particularly peaceful era of Icelandic history, and I don’t think Iceland had seen violence to this level yet in his life. Now I’m going to say that he officially met Norway once Iceland became Norwegian territory at the end of the violence. However, if you think he should’ve met Norway before that, then I can see where you are coming from.

I can’t imagine how Iceland felt when Norway entered his life. The immediate emotions I think he’s feeling are relief and anger. Relief to finally meet his brother, but angry that it took this long. Especially after all the violence to get to this point. However, I do think relief and love for Norway won in terms of how a younger Iceland feels about Norway. Norway 100% loved Iceland from day 1, and when he finally got to hold him, Bro was not putting him down. I can’t see Mr. Puffin liking Norway though; that bird holds grudges, and he was probably mad at Norway for leaving Iceland alone for so long.

So for a while, it was just Norway and Iceland. I imagine the two bonded during this time; Iceland clung to the first person who was a representation like him, and Norway was trying to make up for not being there. There was stuff that happened between this era and the one I’m going to talk about next. But like guys, I’m supposed to make it to the 1920s without writing a novel. If you want a more in-depth analysis of this period of Iceland's life, just let me know.

Ah yes, we’re about to talk about every historical Nordic fan's angsty dreams, the Kalmar Union. The Union between all the Nordic countries crashed and burned. It’s definitely what fueled a lot of Sweden and Denmark’s rivalry, but I’m not here to talk about that. The Kalmar Union was different compared to everything else Iceland had encountered in life. He officially met Denmark, who would be one of the most influential people in his life. Right behind Norway, in my opinion.

However, the Kalmar Union can be described with one word. Disastrous. I imagine Norway shielded Iceland from most of the chaos of the Kalmar Union. Meaning Iceland didn’t get to know the rest of the Nordics. He was mainly with Norway. I do believe he met Sweden at around this time; however, I don’t think he knew Finland yet. I have my reasons for that, and I’ll share them later. My point is, that Iceland was heavily shielded from what was happening during the Kalmar Union. Norway was extremely protective of Iceland during that time.

When the Kalmar Union ended, it then became just Norway, Iceland, and Denmark.

With the Kalmar Union ending in 1523, I imagine things chilled out for Iceland (for a bit). Things went back to semi-normal as Norway continued to baby him, but Denmark was becoming a bigger figure in Iceland's life. While I don’t think Iceland grew particularly close with Denmark in this period, preferring to stay with Norway. The impact of Denmark’s presence was still present.

(Look, it’s my moots, pfp.) Iceland went from being completely alone to having to deal with the rest of Europe. Iceland was able to start trading with the rest of Europe and was starting to get more connected with the continent. Some violent conflicts were happening in Iceland because of the reformation, which gave him a spook and reminded him of the Sturlungs Era. I can see him being freaked out about that. However, I think the biggest event of his life in this period was absolutely the Turkish abductions.

I’ve talked a bit about the Turkish abductions before and how I view the event and its impact on Iceland's character. But I’m still rambling a lot about it here.

Bottom line, this was a particularly traumatic event in Iceland's life. He’s never left Northern Europe at this point, and now he and a bunch of his people have been forcefully taken away to the Middle East. He doesn’t know the language, doesn’t know what’s going to happen to him and his people, and he doesn’t know if Norway and Denmark know what happened. He’s terrified, and I don’t blame him.

Luckily enough, Turkey found him and recognized him as a representation. He took him in and took care of him and made sure he’d find his way home. I imagine Turkey’s presence in this traumatic event is why we see that Iceland respects Turkey today. What happened to Iceland was incredibly traumatic, and his bond with Turkey was the best thing he got out of that entire experience.

I believe that Iceland was with Turkey for 9 years. That’s how long it took for most of the Icelanders to go back to Iceland. The money paid to get the Icelanders back had to be sent three times because the first two people delivering it would spend it before they got to the Ottoman Empire. Another ransom was paid 9 years after the initial ransom was paid off to get more Icelanders back. But I don’t think Iceland was there for 18 years. With how chaotic it was to get the Icelanders back, I imagine Iceland was experiencing so many emotions. Terrified of the situation. Grateful that Turkey was taking care of him. Angry that the ransom money to get him back was being spent on goods instead of helping his people. Incredibly homesick at being in an unfamiliar environment.

When Iceland got sent back home, he was clinging to Norway a lot. He didn’t want to be left alone so he could be taken again. Norway happily obliged and was extremely grateful to get him back. Denmark was happy to have him back as well, but mainly because it made Norway happy. Denmark and Iceland weren’t that close yet. Iceland spent most of his time with Norway.

Before we talk about a major event in Iceland's life, I want to briefly explain why I believe Iceland was extremely shielded from the rest of the Nordics by Norway. Yes, he knew Sweden and Denmark were a part of his life. But Norway was very protective of his younger brother, especially after the abductions. Iceland didn’t go out to meet new people often and was closed off.

Finland didn’t meet Iceland until the 18th century, and I think that’s a great testament to how closed off Iceland was during this period of his life. Norway’s overprotective nature added to this as well.

We reach another incredibly traumatic part of Iceland's life; he’s got a lot of those. Sweden took Norway and Iceland was left with Denmark. Iceland was extremely angry at the situation. Norway was the person he was closest to in life. Norway was his big brother, the one who saved him from extreme loneliness, and now he’s gone. He’s gone, and there’s nothing Iceland can do about it.

Iceland was just overall angry at everyone. Angry at Denmark for losing Norway. Angry at Sweden for taking Norway. Angry at Norway for leaving.

The only thing Denmark had of Norway was Iceland. Denmark then became overbearing and protective of Iceland, even though they weren’t that close. Iceland, who was extremely upset at the loss of his brother, didn’t appreciate Denmark’s behavior. Their relationship was pretty rocky during this time. Especially with Iceland’s fight for independence coming up.

Iceland and Denmark did get close though. They only had each other, and Denmark wanted to keep Iceland close and Iceland was desiring independence. They grew to care for each other. Enough so that Denmark would later claim that he practically raised Iceland. I think this is because, during his time with Denmark, Iceland started aging pretty quickly. I believe he was around 9 years old physically when Norway left, but by the time Iceland was made a sovereign state in a personal union with Denmark (1918), he was 14–15 years old. (I’m going off the canon that Iceland is physically 16-17 modern day; I prefer 17.)

While Denmark was reluctant to let him go, especially after he grew to really care for Iceland. He eventually matured and realized it would be best for Iceland to have more freedoms. Eventually, Iceland will gain independence but that’s for part 3.

There it is! That’s part 2. Thank you so much for reading. The next part will go over Iceland's independence, WW2, his relationships with the other Nordics, and modern day. This one took a while to write. I did a lot of research to make this as accurate as possible, and I glazed over some things. I wanted to be as in-depth as possible but also keep it as short as possible. (I didn’t want to make 4 parts.) Despite my friends arguing I’d make 20 parts if I could. (They’re right 😔)

Link to part 3

[headingalaxys-spicy]

hello 👋 i really love your writing 😖 i was wondering if you could write yandere alphas nordic's x darling omega who has a very high libido? 😏 thank you ❤😄

Well this is one way to start the week enjoy anon :)

Warning! This is a spicy post, so turn away now if this isn't for you!

Denmark 🇩🇰 

Finally, there is someone who can keep up with him in the bedroom. Also, destroy him. 

In order to slow you down, he does have you take a shot of Akvavit (snaps) every hour or half hour (more depending on how rough you are riding him or sucking his soul out). This, however, does backfire often because you’ll be all fired up again & you’ll want to peg him, but considering he’s bossy, he will ‘guide’ you on how to do it properly. 

Denmark even approached Japan with: “Hey! I need help making a machine that can slow Y/N in bed?” 

The dude has even tried to design a piece of furniture that can hold you in place so he doesn’t have to be bottom all the time, but he also hopes your libido would give out due to you having to contort your body so much. 

He hates admitting that he needs a break from you. The fastest he’s ever recovered was 23 hours. The longest was 4 m

When he’s not as patient, he has cuffs on the wall, tables, or bathroom counters where he’ll keep you there so he can rail you without getting injured by you thrusting back or squeezing him for all he’s got. He loves that you can beat him in bed; just intimidated is all. 

Finland 🇫🇮 

He needs some time to adjust to your abundance of energy. As you pound into him ruthlessly, Tino just grins, bears it, and moans. 

What the heck else can he do? He praises you a lot as well. 

“Y/N you’re doing great ah! But maybe can you slow down?!” He’s silently praying to god you’re going to get tired. 

Tino will want to do a lot of foreplay to start to satisfy some tension & just maybe make you not as rough and needy. (He does have a lot of costumes + props) 

On occasion, he does like to tell bad jokes that will kill the mood if you’ve milked him for all he’s got seed-wise. Or if he’s feeling up to the challenge, he’ll take meds that will help him last longer so he can attempt to keep up with you. 

Tends to like doing it in or near a sauna since it reduces your libido a little & relaxes you. Tino is able to keep his sweaty palm on your waist so that you won’t ride him like he’s a dead horse. (Also just makes getting to the aftercare a smoother transition) 

Iceland 🇮🇸 

Uhhhh like isn’t he a teenager still (he’s an adult I think????) ? Also don’t come for me but I also don’t know his human name I haven’t been able to find one on the hetalia Wikis so like yeah . 

Mans just throws a pillow at you and fucking dips. 

I'm not comfortable writing spicy stuff for him. 

Norway 🇳🇴 

Lukas can take your energy like a stoic in the eye of a storm. He can also appreciate the fact that, being a person with the gift of magical abilities, he has his own unique ways of subduing you. He utilizes his ties with his far friends to assist him in taking away some of your sexual energy and giving it to him so he can keep up. 

Lukas has toyed with different potions to slow your libido down. Some had no effect. Others made his nights with you longer and ran him absolutely rugged. He’d be out of commission for a few weeks at times. The fastest he’s able to recover is 2-3 days at the fastest but nothing sooner than that. 

Lukas thinks it a fun challenge to rail you & he likes to mysteriously whisper in your ear: 

“You’re quite the challenge, Y/N, I like that.” 

He tends to prefer you bouncing up and down on him so he can gauge how much longer he has to last while you're riding him, as your latest wave of thrusting can be particularly harsh. He may not say much else to you but grunt in pleasure and moan. He also likes to bite down on his lips and keep it to a minimum when he’s failing to keep up with you and edging towards passing out. 

Sweden

From no words at all to talking all night long like he was at a never-ending ball, you are a type of blessing he didn’t know he needed. 

The fact that you’ll slam him to the floor, the table, cabinets, bookcases, telephone booths, you name it; this tall 5’11 (182 cm) tall man is at your mercy and enjoys it. 

Berwald practically sings your praises as if he trained himself all his life to be a tenor for the Royal Swedish Opera. “Oh yes! Y/N! Y/N! Please don’t stop!” Will be among his symphony for the night. He does communicate with you when you’re hurting his junk, being too rough, or thrusting too quickly.

The two of you do argue or pull sticks over who's going to be at the bottom for that session. 

Like Denmark, he does like to have specialized furniture that he can use to wear you out & your high-ass libido. 

He can recover the quickest from having sex with you give him 12 hours and a cup of coffee, and he’s all good to go again. Only once did you manage to keep him out of commission for 4 months. 

[yawujin]

mroski i saw u asking for 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 requests and im here to deliver bc kinktober been dry as hell like GHGGRHRG THE DROUGHT… stupid characters from hetalia (that i will be naming at the end) coming home with a random viagra-like pill they grabbed off the shadiest place they could and begging to try it, thinking its probably fake or just low quality. but then s/o reluctantly agrees and theyre(only the character in my scenario, but feel free to tweak it to your liking) hit with immense horny, like not even the good kind theyre borderline about to pass out from the fever lol. how does that go? please make it not only 𝓯𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴𝔂 but also funny because i need the positivity in my life… anyways my proposed characters are north italy, denmark, prussia and america. feel free to do whichever ones you like!

it's been drier than a desert fr fr...luckily, october is the time of year i get the most inspired and creative. i chose prussia bc i feel like this scenario would fit him the best. enjoy 🪄

request˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧ "a mysterious pill" (prussia x reader)

type | nsfw , aphrodisiacs , smut , prussia thinks he's a sigma male 🐺 , long , drug usage (i guess) , they/them pronouns used

"no gil, don't take that." they grumbled, grabbing the pill from his hand. gilbert had brought home a singular pill he found inside one of those orange containers one would get at the pharmacy. but they could tell, this was not something any doctor would prescribe. they examined the neon pink gel pill, watching the kitchen lighting above make the bright color reflect onto the palm of their hand. what even is this? they pondered to themself.

"now schatz...why shouldn't i?" he cocked his head to the side. "i bought this specifically for you and i to have a much better time together."

they could hear the smile in his voice. then, it clicked and they realized exactly what he was talking about.

"i didn't think you were serious about getting something...something like this!" they stuttered out. gilbert smirked. "try it out."

they looked at him in disbelief. he lowered his head and shrugged. "the worst that can happen is that it turns out to be a fake." they stood there listening to his words in silence. he got closer to them, putting a hand up on their shoulder. "maybe it's a placebo." he sounded like he hoped it would be.

gilbert had poured them a glass of water as soon as they agreed to take it. "come now, drink up." he grinned.

"i still can't believe you bought a knock-off viagra." they said disappointedly. then, they took the pill in their mouth, sipping some water and swallowing hard. it tasted awful going down, but if this were to work the effects of the drug were about to wipe that taste from their mind completely.

the pair waited five minutes, then those five turned into ten. it seemed a bit longer to them since gil was asking if they felt anything every three minutes. they walked over to the sink and put their glass down inside. "no gil, for the last time i—" they held onto the kitchen counter with might as a hot, electric shock rushed to their core. "AH!" they felt as though they were about to collapse. gilbert rushed to their side, his hands at their back and waist.

"gil...i'm going to fall." they were feeling dizzy, like they were losing control of their own legs. gravity felt heavy and all of their weight was being pulled down. "i've got you." he reassured them as he tried to get them to stand again. "lean onto the counter."

they tried to stand without wobbling. with every slight brush of gilbert's hands on their waist, they felt the same heat rise in their abdomen. that dizzy feeling wasn't letting up, either.

"no, no. i can't. just take me to bed." they pleaded. they didn't need to tell gil twice. he was quick to lift their arm over his shoulder and carefully walk them over to their bed.

he laid them down carefully, sat at the edge of the bed, and raised a hand to their forehead. "mein gott, you are on fire." he shook his head. "i think," he was looking to leave and find his cell phone. "i should call the hospital."

"no!" they exclaimed. he looked worried. "just stay with me, okay?" they asked sweetly. they gestured for him to come nearer, and placed their hands on his face gently. "can i get a kiss?"

hesitant at first, gilbert brought his face up to theirs and smoothed his lips over their own. boldly, they ran their fingers through his hair and tugged at a few strands, earning a low moan from him. he pulled away almost instantly.

"huh...is it working?" his eyes were wide.

"isn't it obvious? i need you right now!!" they were upset gil pulled away so abruptly. "please do something..."

gilbert looked at them and chuckled. "should i tear off all your clothes like an animal and howl while i fuck you?" he imitated a howl, immediately shutting up when they grabbed him by his shirt.

"what do you think you are? a werewolf?" they smashed their lips up against his and smiled when they heard him moan in a surprised delight. "hurry up, do ANYTHING." they pleaded. it was getting too much for them to bare.

gilbert took off and threw all of his clothes to the floor in a hurry. he noticed the bright red color that dusted his partner's cheeks. that flushed looked on their face got him bricked faster than he would like to admit. "are you so horny that you can't even move?" he mocks them, thoroughly enjoying the cute noises that follow right after. he helps them take everything off as well. "alright...turn around for me, please."

they feel him press himself against their ass. his hand is around them, sliding it up their stomach, and getting closer to their chest. their eyelids grow heavy and finally shut. the heat builds up in their head, the fever making them feel like they're about to pass out from all that pleasure. with every inch that gilbert slowly adds inside of them, the closer they feel to coming. they've barely begun, and yet it feels like they won't last much longer.

[itsohh]

Death Goes to Disco Part 4

A/N: Female reader, righhhttt so NEXT chapter should be the last chapter. For real this time you guys.

Summary: In the middle of winter, the three of you debark into the never-ending darkness of Greenland's winter. Not used to the cold, you struggle to adapt to the cold but Ghost and Soap are there to help.

Word count:  3038

Warnings: not smut but not exactly sfw either

AO3 Masterlist Part 1 Part 3

Cold. So. Freezing. Cold.

In the seemingly permanent darkness, you trekked through the snow. The jacket that covered every inch of your skin really did try. It kept you going, get you mobile, kept you combat-ready. Yet, you knew later at night when you had to stop moving its wetness would become a detriment.

In-between the two men you followed Ghost while Soap walked behind you. All three of you had night vision goggles on to cope. "You alright there Disco?" You heard Soap ask when you clutched your jacket a bit tighter.

"It's fucking cold!" Your voice managed to get out despite the fluffy jacket hood that covered most of your face.

"Not used to the cold eh?"

"Not used to extreme weather."

"Prefer being in the desert?"

"Fuck no, at I can warm up. Only so many clothes you can take off."

"In extreme heat, it's wiser to wear many layers. Polyester is not recommended." Ghost spoke in front of you.

"Fuck are you serious?" You hissed and Ghost looked back at you for a moment with his brow raised. "My uniform back when I was in Afghanistan was made of teredo. In the middle of the goddamn summer."

"What's teredo?" Soap asked.

"Polyester cotton hybrid." You answered with a huff and Soap let out a laugh before your head snapped back at him.

"Ah, I'm sorry. I- that's horrible really. They didn't have anything else?"

"Not really, my uniform fit shit anyway." You looked forward and soon caught up to Ghost who looked down his scope. Johnny joined the pair of you and you copied Ghost's action.

At the end of your scope, you could see what he was looking at. A small cabin, more of a shack than anything. Hidden away in the side of a mountain. If you didn't know to look there, it was extremely easy to miss.

"See that?" Ghost asked.

"Sure do."

"Affirmative."

"That's our destination. Our base of operations."

"Think they have a fireplace in there?" Soap asked.

"No fire."

"Negative."

Both you and Ghost spoke at the same time much to each other's surprise.

"Even if it has a fireplace we should avoid using it. The smoke would give away our location." You swallowed and explained. Ghost gave you a nod at your explanation and you couldn't help but feel pride sweet inside your chest. Like you were a fresh rookie again.

"How long are we staying here LT?" Soap asked.

"Estimated two weeks." Ghost looked towards him.

"Two weeks?" Soap was surprised and he glanced at you for a moment.

"Will we have the supplies for that? I'm not a fan of reindeer." You muttered the last part under your breath.

"Should be, let's get out there and find out."

Despite the close proximity of the building, it took the three of you about half an hour to finally reach it. Ghost took point and was the first to enter, Soap right on his tail. Soon came the call for all clear. Safe as safe could be.

"Hey, Ghost?" You asked as you shrugged off your back onto the sofa. His head turned to face you as he removed his own bag. "You said in the briefing we were here on the odd case that Willem took this path through Greenland. What if he doesn't?"

"Then that's up to the Denmark government."

"No I mean, what do we do?"

"Wait until the call."

"Huh really shelled us out for something so boring?" Soap popped up next to you.

"They need Willem caught, numbers on this path aren't an option. They needed to make sure that if he came this way it was someone that could deal with it."

"Why two weeks?"

"His mobility is slow. Careful but slow."

"You would think that they would work fast with the darkness and all that." Soap took his backpack off and played it on the table to unpack.

"Willem and his men aren't familiar with the land. It was a risk to flee here. We are here to make sure it doesn't pay off."

"Sure thing. Supply check?" Your eyes went past him to the cupboards in the kitchen.

"Inventory, count it." He nodded and you got to work.

In about half an hour the three of you grouped up again. With a list in one hand, you sat down on the couch and Soap joined you. Ghost eventually turned up with a stack of blankets in his hands.

"Ooo that's what I like to see." Your hand went to snatch the top one and you heard Soap laugh next to you under his breath. The room was cold, not as cold as it was outside but still really cold. With your jacket now off to dry, you would take anything you could get.  This meant while you weren't in active danger, you were keeping that blanket like it was a lifeline.

"Report?" At Ghost's voice had you looked up at him and nodded.

"Not including our own supplies we brought, this place could realistically easily supply us for about a year in canned foods. Whoever normally looks after this place does it well. Water is something we will need to get ourselves but with the snow and ice outside I think we should be fine. There's a gas oven in the kitchen hooked up to some propane bottles under the cabinet. Counted four of them."

"Right. I counted our supplies. Among us, we have about 800 rounds, 12 'nades, 3 flashes and 6 smoke."

"Add another 40 rounds. There's an unmodified Marksman which was on the wall of the master. There are four bedrooms with outside windows. Jumping from them is not advisable. There is an attic with an escape hatch. Found out there's also another ladder under that rug over there which leads downward. It's a one-way trip. So only use it in the case of emergency. About our warmth situation, the fireplace is buggered. Couldn't use it if we wanted to."

"Any other type of heating aside from these?" You asked Ghost and he slightly shook his head.

"The building is well initialized, in the bedrooms I've reinforced the windows with blankets and tape. The longer we stay here the warmer it should get."

"Great." You mumbled and pulled the blanket closer around you. Perhaps they would warm up quickly, you certainly weren't.

"We got power here?"

"Negative on that Soap. This place seems to be designed for the summer. While it has the capability to get power from the solar panels we don't have the sun on our side. Everything's dead."

"Our batteries on all our equipment should easily last two weeks right?" You asked and Ghost gave you a single nod.

"Inventory done, now, after we eat we will be doing shifts. Four-hour blocks. Two sleep, one awake."

"I call the first shift." You said.

"Soap you take second, I'll take last."

"Rodger that. So." Soap turned to face you. "Whats allocated for tonight's dinner?"

You pushed off the couch and headed to the kitchen and pulled out some cans and placed them on the island. "Beef." You smiled at him and gestured to the next can. "Beans."

"Have we got seasoning here?" Soap gave you a slightly hopeful smile that was in vain. It was lucky the group of you had food at all and didn't have to rely on MRIs or the local fauna.

"No." You gave him your own bitter smile.

"Just like when it's Ghost's turn to cook then." John made sure to look directly at you and avoid Ghost whose head slowly turned to look at the man. A death glare in his eyes.

"Do you have a problem with my cooking Sergeant?"

"Maybe use a little bit of oregano in the future? Just a thought. Perhaps a bit of chives on spuds. Now that I think of it, maybe some paprika on the chicken. At least it's not dry." Soap kept his eyes on you and you couldn't help but chuckle slightly with your brows raised as he dug himself into a hole.

"I will take your advice into consideration." Ghost's shoulders dropped and he turned back to face you.

"Since Johnny has demonstrated his culinary expertise. He can cook for us today." Soap opened his mouth and shut it. You pushed the cans towards him and grabbed a couple more.

"Thanks Soap."

-

First shift wasn't easy. With the eternal darkness of the night, it made it impossible to know what time it was without looking at your watch. Ghost had instructed you that you didn't need to specifically look out a scope just keep an eye out for anything.

Which led to boredom.

It was three and a half hours in that you felt another presence. Your eyes flicked up from the game of solitaire that you had set out in front of you to see Ghost there. His eyes went to yours. Even though you could barely see him with the small lantern next to you, you were able to see that his greasepaint was removed from around his eyes and he was left just in his mask.

His eyes were on your hand that rest on the pistol next to you. "Can't sleep?" Your voice was soft slowly he came up to you.

"Checking on you."

"Me? Worried I'm going to murder you in your sleep or something?" You laughed and he sat down on the ground in front of you.

"No. If you were going to kill me it would have been back in Las Almas." Your laugh died down and your eyes fell a bit at his mention of the past.

"Well, I'm still kicking if that's what your wondering. A bit cold but I'll deal. You should go back to sleep. I have to wake Soap in a bit anyway. Unless you swapped shifts with him?"

"No." His eyes looked down at your game of cards which was set up.

"I keep losing, I suck at solitaire."

"Surprising, heard from Soap you would have fleeced him dry if you were playing with real money."

"Oh, I'm great at poker and other games you play with other people. Solo games, ugh." You looked down to see you had fucked it up and let out a huff. “Half of the game isn’t about the cards but the way you portray yourself.” You shuffled the cards and paused. “Want some water? Still have some melted from dinner.”

“I’m good.”

“Suit yourself, Lieutenant. Did you wish to play a game then? Since you don’t seem like your heading back to bed yet.”

“You play a lot of cards, why?”

“Something to pass the time.” You glanced down and swallowed. “I used to be really bad at it. When I joined NZSAS I became rather close with a Sergent. Hina was her name. I always ended up assigned under her even when she became a Lieutenant. She always used to stress the importance of staying sane in the military. Downtime was the big part. She always believed that we needed to keep our minds as clear as possible. Preventing paranoia was a big one. So she would always have a pack of cards on her.”

Ghost seemed content to listen so you started to start another game in front of you. “Of course, I was terrible so she made it her personal mission to coach me on the matter. Wasn’t the only thing she coached me on.”

“Hand-to-hand?”

“She taught me how to be a marksman. No, that came from our Captain. Captain Hommeys. Hommeys was an interesting woman,  sort of a good cop bad cop thing with Hina. Our Captain was a scary ass woman. Far scarier than you.” You glanced up and gave him a wink. “Which could be a problem with recruits and rookies. People would be too afraid to bring up matters so, we would get people to go to Hina. They were a great team.”

“Were?”

“Hina died a few years back and Hommeys lost a leg. Still tough as nails.”

“Sorry to hear that.”

“Part of this life isn’t it? Makes every day that much more important ‘cause you never know when it's gonna be your last. One second’s all it takes. One day all you’re going to be left with are memories of your loved ones so it's best to make those memories good right?” You gave him a gentle smile. You looked down at the cards.” From what I heard Hommeys still works on base. Works as an adviser but I didn’t see her when I was there.” You paused when your watch let out a small beep.

“Mmm four hours already? I still feel so awake, maybe I should let John rest more.”

“No. It’s important you get rest.” Ghost narrowed his eyes at you and you put the cards back together.

“Should take your own advice. You need sleep too Ghost.”

“I will.” Ghost followed your lead when you got up and stretched. With Ghost behind you, you found your way to the master bedroom where John was fast asleep. He had stretched across the large bed. His hand lay on the missing area where Ghost had been. You wondered if they would still share a bed when others were around or if it was because it was only the three of you.

Gently you shook John's shoulder and he blinked his eyes open with a groan. “Disco? Mmm, swap time already?” You nodded at his question. “Fuck, your fingers are cold. Like ice.” He shivered away from you and started to get up. Your eyes fell on Ghost who seemed rather interested in what Soap had said.

“You're still cold.”

“It’s like -6, yeah I’m cold.” You smiled at him and started to walk away from the bed. When you passed Ghost he caught your wrist and you practically jumped at the action. His hand was warm, really warm. How he managed to stay this warm surprised you and subtly you leaned into his touch.

“Get in.”

“Pardon?” Your eyes went wide and darted from his to Johnnys.

“You need to stay warm. Our bed's still warm and you will heat up far faster with the pair of us here. Get in.” He explained and you could see John’s lips curl up and snicker. You passed John the lantern and cautiously got onto the bed.

“Have fun you two.” You could feel your cheeks heat up at John's comment. Ghost was right though, the spot was really warm from John. The light disappeared from view and the door clicked closed behind him. You pulled the blanket close and let out a breath. Then you felt him. Ghost move closer towards you and wrapped an arm around your midsection while his now face pressed against your neck. “Ohh.” You let out a sigh of relief and pressed back against him. “Your so warm.” You hummed.

“Should have said something.”

“I did say I was a little cold.” You muttered and he pulled you closer.

“This is not a little cold. This is concerningly cold. I’ll have to remember you downplay things. It's my job to look after you.”

“You sound like my old doctor.” You whined and he made a sound of disproval.

“Not something I want to hear Disco.”

“No scolding me right now Ghost. Not when I’m about to sleep.” Ghost made a sound against you, a sound that rumbled against his chest and through you. He didn't continue on the matter and soon you closed your eyes.

-

The sleep you got that night was probably one of the best sleeps you had in a very long time. When you awoke you weren’t surprised by the weight that pressed against you. What you were surprised by was who it was. John had swapped with Ghost during the night and now had an arm locked around you. You start to move a little only for his grip to tighten and pull you flush against him.

A firm ‘object’ pressed into your ass.

…

…

His cock. John's cock pressed firmly against your ass and he let out a little unintelligible mumble. You moved a little and he let out a deep hiss against your shoulder. “If you keep moving your only gonna make it harder.” He groaned- more like moaned- in your ear. “Unless that's what you want?” He practically purred.

“John- you're in a relationship. That was a one-time thing.” You swallowed and stayed perfectly still.

“You didn’t have fun?” He pushed his chest further against your back.

“I did, I just- there's a difference between a one-night stand and- ” You let out a sigh of frustration. “I’m not going to be the third wheel to your relationship, some toy.” Your voice went quiet at the end of your sentence. Almost impossible to hear. If he hadn’t been right next to you, there would have been a very high chance that he didn’t hear it all. A pregnant pause surrounded the pair of you for what seemed like a lifetime. In reality, it was maybe a minute or less.

“Then don’t be. You can make this whatever you want it to be.” You felt his thumb gently rub the front of your waist.

“What?”

“If you want us, you can have us. Anyway you want. Ghost and I talked about it last night. If you don’t want anything that's fine too. Won’t change anything professionally between the three of us. Can pretend it never happened if you want.” Soap breathed under your ear and you felt his nose brush against your neck. “Won’t lie though, I’d like it if you joined us. Ghost feels the same.”

“What, like a throuple?”

“That's what they call it eh? Despise that word, but yeah.”

“And your not just saying this because your dicks pressed into my ass?” You felt Soap laugh against you.

“Trust me if that was my motivation I’d go find Ghost like I do most mornings.” Soap let out a breath and continued. “If you want to think about it we can give you time or-”

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“I’ll date you and Ghost.”

[paikothecateater]

What if there was a snowstorm. Sweden and Denmark are locked in the house. What are they going to do?

Kill each other.

I'm only half joking.

Realistically they'd be worried about the others, but after a couple phone calls and confirming that they were all safely at their respective homes keeping warm under their blankets, the worry would fade.

They don't even realise it's just them until later because they both just kinda do their own thing. Dinner roles around and it's just the two of them.

Sweden doesn't mind eating in silence, but it freaks Denmark out because noise is literally his favourite part of sitting at the dinner table. Of course, he won't be the one to start a conversation, but if Sweden starts one, he'll definitely maintain it.

Sweden eventually does start a conversation.

"not used to getting to eat in peace."

"it feels so quiet... Too quiet. Is this empty nest syndrome?"

"I don't know."

"you're clearly not feeling what I'm feeling."

"yes, well, Denmark, your nest has a singular teenager who can cook for himself and apologises to walls for bumping into them. My nest has two little shits who squak at me until I feed them then squak at me because they don't like the food. I can call them little shits because it's with love. "

"well, it doesn't change how depressing it is to eat in silence."

"ah yes, until a child walks in with a slug they found outside because they thought it was cool, and you have to pause your meal to have them toss it outside. Either that or they start flinging food at each other. I don't have covers for my furniture because I think it looks good, you know? "

The conversation continues in that direction until they finish eating and then they both start doing their own thing.

There's really not much else to it. They don't really... Interact much for the rest of the day.

[merbear25]

Spooky request!

Denmark

Camping

Zombie AU (can reader be the zombie? 🤭)

SFW

Go! 💪

Hello! Sorry this took longer than usual. I wasn't having an easy week, but I appreciate you sending something in for the event. I hope you like it 💜🧡

There weren't many chances for you two to see each other nowadays. With life feeling like it was getting away from you, there was no better bonding activity than camping to catch up. Much needed fresh air and quality time would be something you'd remember for the rest of your lives.

CW: SFW, gn!reader, could be read as platonic or romantic, mentions of survival situations, some fluff, some angst, reader is attacked, mentions of blood

Scary stories to tell in the dark (Denmark)

The campfire crackled and the embers danced in front of you. Beneath your feet the cold ground and dry leaves were blanketed in the soft glow of the fire. Each of its flames illuminated your campsite through the thick woods. The other campsites were some distance away, leaving your spec of light its own beacon in the darkness.

Stars hung overhead and the crickets chirped in the distance. Small ripples in the calm lake gave away the location of fish others were trying to capture earlier. Curling up next to each other, the chilly night time air was nullified from the extra body heat.

“Don’t you want to take your marshmallow out?” You side-eyed him.

“And take away that super concentrated surgery layer? No way!” He laughed. His eyes sparkled at the blackened coat. “Now it’s perfect, see?”

You chuckled at him as he nearly blew the flaming gooey mess right off the rod. Eating your sweet treats, the orange glow dancing on your faces, and the good company gave you peace of mind.

“You know, with it being so close to Halloween, it’d be pretty silly not to share scary stories.” The excitement in his voice carried over the treetops.

“Oh? And have you got any?”

“Of course, I do!” Shoving the remainder of his crispy marshmallow in his mouth, he hurriedly chewed as he began the story. “There’s a rumor around these parts of a chemical spill from the plant some ways away from here. The scientists working there were experimenting with things that they didn’t have the best understanding of, which led to something that they could not control—a zombie virus.”

“Really?” Your amusement was thinly covering your disbelief.

“Yes, really! They thought that they had got rid of it all, but some of the vials had gone missing. No one knows who could’ve taken them or what they planned to do with them. Some try to give themselves some peace of mind by saying that somewhere through all the panic and regret that the number of vials were fudged, but I think that one of those scientists pocketed them and is just waiting—waiting for the perfect opportunity to bring society to its knees.” He was inching towards you, carrying the final blows of the story with as much intensity as his carefree spirit would allow.

For a moment, a paranoid bug crawled up your pant leg and nipped at your skin. A shudder spread over your body when you heard the faint snapping of a stick behind you in the distance. Watching your skepticism turn to fright was all he could’ve asked for. He couldn’t help himself as his laughter killed the tense mood he’d set.

“You should see your face!”

“That wasn’t funny!”

“Yes, it was!” Laughter still flowing past his lips, he slung his arm around you and pulled you into a side hug. His cheeks reddened from the enjoyment of being there with you and sharing stories with each other made your irritation for him having scared you melt.

You put your arm around him, returning his affection. “What am I going to do with you?” When he threw his other arm around you, you did the same, pulling each other into a bear-like hug. After having spent what seemed like forever away from the other, it felt nice to finally share this time with him.

“Ah! You’re squeezing me too hard!” He squirmed out of your grip.

“Where are you going?”

“Nature calls!” He shouted as he disappeared into the woods.

Sitting there, waiting for him, you tapped the toes of your boots together. With no cell towers in the area, getting a signal would be a miracle, which meant you two were given the rare opportunity to enjoy nature in its entirety—and you were already bored without him.

However, the twinkling lights of the stars were a nice change from the ones in the city. The constellations stood out to you, letting their stories live on through the eyes that peered up at them. Serenity was something that was hard to come by, but taking this trip was helping you appreciate the parts of life that were passing you by.

Another stick snapped behind you, making you roll your eyes. “Don’t you think you’ve ruined the spooky mood? You can’t scare me now.” Clumsy steps of what sounded like dragging feet grew nearer. “Oh, come on. Give it up.” Turned in your seat, you barely had a chance to catch the breath that was stolen right out of your lungs. Lunging at you with a mouth torn to shreds and foggy colored eyes was a creature escaped from the shackles of hell itself.

The force of it sent you hurtling towards the ground, narrowly escaping the grasp of the scorching flames. Cries for help churned your stomach as the animalistic strength from above quickly tore away at your will to keep it at bay. Your elbow buckled, giving it leverage straight to your ear. Blood curdling screams echoed across the still lake before your attacker was thrown off of you. Without a moment of hesitation, its brains were splattered across the sandy ground.

Tears flowed freely down your blood-soaked cheek as Mathias came to your side. Any words of comfort and support fell on deaf ears to no fault of his own. The shock was sending your brain into a tailspin of emotions and made your sobs of fear and agony pound furiously in your head.

“We need to get you to a hospital!” The urgency went hand-in-hand with uncertainty. Even without your sense of self remaining, he scooped you up in his arms and carried you to the car. Laying you down in the back as gently as he could, the sprint around to the driver’s seat couldn’t have felt longer.

Speeding down the beaten paths onto the main road had every reckless turn and shift completely void of any sense of danger. Doubts set in: he didn’t hesitate to kill that person. Images of it flashed in his mind, but it had all happened so fast that he was confusing reality with figments of his imagination. Was it a person who was just extremely sick or something more sinister? The question muddied his sense of judgment and now weighed on his heart.

Your sobs were choked as you attempted to call out to him. “It hurts!”

“I… I bet it does! But I’ll get you there soon, just hang in there!” Heavy breathing and heart pounding covered the revving engine. Soon your sobs died down to whimpers, causing his chest to heave and tears to swell up in his eyes. “H-Hey! Come on! Don’t fall asleep, stay awake for me, okay?” When there was no response he cursed himself for not having gotten back soon enough.

If only he hadn’t gone so far into the woods. If only he hadn’t shared that dumb story with you. If only he had taken the time to check his rearview mirror.

The drone of a car horn climbed higher than those trees ever could, letting the world listen to the beginning of the end as the crashed vehicle left smoke billowing around it.

[gilmores-glorious-blog]

okay okay okay so i just watched the pbs great performances hamlet and it was. SO GOOD. oh my god. here are my many, many thoughts:

- the singing starting the show is fucking amazing

- the opening funeral scene and then the transition to the wedding goes so hard

- ophelia’s song having lines from hamlet’s letters to her .. …

- this polonius casting is GOD TIER like yeah. that’s what he looks like. that’s correct.

- i don’t like that they cut the opening ghost scene :/

- omg this horatio <33 i love him sm

- horatio’s black nail polish is everything to me

- ophelia is so hot oh my god

- i love a production that plays up the sibling dynamic between ophelia and laertes

- on that note, ophelia and laertes making fun of polonious is always so fun

- the modern aspects with masks and stuff are so interesting

- the ghost possessing hamlet???? oh my god i’m obsessed why have i never seen that done before

- the actor rolling his eyes back so that you only see the whites of his eyes while he’s possessed is so fucking cool

- i love productions that have hamlet cut his hand on his sword idk why i just do

- also horatio not even hesitating to cut his own hand? i’m insane

- ah fuck,,,, hamlet and horatio grasping each others bloody hands… horatio clasping hamlet’s hand with both his hands,, i’m unwell 😭

- gertrude and claudius being super horny for each other always makes me so uncomfortable

- these ros and guil costumes are great

- big fan of productions that make claudius be super charismatic it’s always such an interesting choice

- god this polonious is so good, he’s so fucking funny

- i love hamlet’s rings <3

- hamlet taking a selfie with the stacie abrams poster is crazy

- hamlet’s personalized handshakes with ros and guil are so cute

- it’s interesting that it’s fully set in america and that all the lines referencing denmark were cut out/changed

- i’m trying to figure out what hamlet was reading but i can’t and it’s driving me crazy 😩

- hamlet smacking polonious on the ass was crazy

- god i love a production that leans into the comedic aspects of this play,, it may be shakespeare’s most famous tragedy but it’s also funny as fuck sometimes

- the incorporation of singing/rapping throughout the show is so good

- also polonious as the one white guy in the room being like. ‘erm actually i don’t like the rapping 🤓☝️’ ,,, stfu man

- i need to know who wrote the lyrics for these songs bc they’re so good and they incorporate the original text so well

- fucking hell man,, his to be or not to be was amazing

- the “where’s your father” moment was so good

- oh my god horatio’s costume change,, the pink suit,,, i love him :’)

- i wish productions didn’t cut down the passions slave speech as much as they tend to do :/

- god ophelia’s dress is GORGEOUS

- polonious being the only one wearing a mask was wild but also so real (as someone who has often been the only person masked in a room)

- god this claudius is really good i appreciate the depth he brings to the role

- hmm interesting place for an intermission idk how i feel about this

- polonious in comfy clothing,, rest in peace peepaw 😭🫡

- polonious’ body lying on the bed during the entire closet scene is so fucked

- sometimes i wish i didn’t know this play so well so i could watch adaptions without noticing every single line they leave out,,,

- jfc,, hamlet wiping the blood off his knife onto the bedsheets,,,

- gertrude not hugging claudius back 👀

- claudius punching hamlet >:(

- idk how i feel about the decision to make ros and guil know about hamlet being sent to his death

- let’s be honest i’m mostly here for solea pfeiffer’s portrayal of ophelia’s madness

- the running makeup and the messy hair. YES.

- i hate that i have a certain melody to ophelia’s songs in my head so when i hear other versions with different melodies i’m like. hmm. incorrect.

- holy fuck she’s so incredible… the ophelia ever oh my god

- YESSSS INCLUSION OF THE HORATIO LETTER SCENE FUCK YEAH (i hate when adaptations don’t include this scene)

- horatio is reading the letter like omg pirates my boyfriend is so cool

- it’s always so funny to me that claudius and laertes make a plan, a backup plan, and a backup backup plan for killing hamlet and it still backfires and kills them both (i mean it does also work to kill hamlet. but still.)

- the portrait of king hamlet watching the entire show goes so hard

- this gravedigger is so amazing i’m obsessed

- ugh 😭 the singers singing the same song at ophelia’s funeral as at the king’s 😩

- oh FUCK ophelia coming out at her funeral.. the watery lighting… i’m going insane

- horatio holding hamlet and comforting him :(

- laertes apparently being able to see the ghost of ophelia makes him as a narrative foil to hamlet all the more juicy

- the eat a crocodile line is always so random lmao

- aw fuck…. laertes singing really got me… :(

- oh my GOD this osric is so fucking funny

- lmao osric beefing with horatio

- horatio in the background of the fencing match cheering on hamlet <3

- claudius standing and rubbing gertrude’s shoulders knowing she’s about to die :( this isn’t fair i’m not allowed to be emo about them

- hamlet offering laertes the sword and then laertes stabbing him with it,,,

- gertrude’s realization of what happened right before she dies was so good

- claudius cutting his own hand on the sword was a powerful choice

- it’s always funny to me when productions completely cut out the fortinbras plotline

- horatio catching hamlet as he falls :(

- horatio singing to hamlet after he dies… i am so incredibly unwell 😭😭

- THE GHOST WAS VOICED BY SAMUEL L. JACKSON?!?? crazy.

overall, amazing production. i loved the musical elements. definitely my favorite ophelia and polonius i’ve seen, possibly my favorite laertes and claudius as well. the hamlet/horatio relationship wasn’t quite as prominent as i would’ve liked it to be, but it was still really great, and i enjoyed analyzing all the little moments they did have.

[hetalia-club]

Literal Translations Of Country Names from Mandarin

Or what Yao calls everyone. I need to know his story behind some of these because you know there has got to be. Some of them feel so... motivated. Not including everyone but I'll do the mains and some especially funny ones. (These are not my translations I just found them on google. And i couldn't find everyone.)

America- Beautiful Country England- Heroic Country France- Lawful Country Canada- Adding Taking Big Russia- Sudden Country Australia- Harbor Big Profits Subpar New Zealand- Deep Special Asian Collecting Tiles Germany- Virtuous Country Italy- Contemplating Big Profit Japan- Sun Base Spain- West Class Teeth Portugal- Grape Teeth Turkey- Dirt Ear This Greece- Hoping For Wax Denmark- Red Wheat Norway- Moving Might Sweden- Lucky Ceremony Iceland- Ice Island Finland- Fragrant Orchid Netherlands- Cargo Orchid Switzerland- Lucky Person Belgium- Comparing Profit Time Austria- Deep Land Profits Hungary- Hun Teeth Profits Poland- Wavy Orchid Romania- Collecting Horse Buddhist Nuns Second Ukraine- Darkness Overcoming Orchid Albania- Ah You Yearn For Buddhist Nuns Secondly South Africa- South Africa

[heartstringsduet]

Hi Michelle ! 🌼

Sorry if it’s weird that I’ve become an obsessive fan of First Aid hehe but having spent 2 days binge reading it it was in my head and so when I listened to this song:

- I got all in my feels about Carlos and TK set in the beginning!🥺

I’m pretty sure it’s a danish band and I actually don’t know if they’re even very known outside of Denmark.. and the song is cheesy and kind of overly feelsy and it’s just a sort of guilty pleasure from my childhood that I happened to listen to yesterday but (😅) but it got me thinking about Carlos’ perspective and how entering through TK’s window would have drowned out all the noise of NYC and his own hectic brain about his family, past, future, guilt etc - all noise except the echo of TK’s name and then how you described him (albeit from TK’s pov) seemingly letting go for a night/morning and being so soft in TK’s arms and bed (🥺😭) and yeah lol so I wanted to share it with you 🫣

Oki byee 🙃🙃😶‍🌫️

Aww this ask made me SO HAPPY !! AH. 🫣😭 I think it's so sweet that you not only like it but that it makes you think of a song. And it's such a wistful and haunting one! Thanks for sharing it with me and explaining how you think about it in the context of the fic. I LOVE THIS: "how entering through TK’s window would have drowned out all the noise of NYC and his own hectic brain about his family, past, future, guilt" - I do absolutely think TK's room is an oasis for him that he can shed some of his armor. <3 So well said!!! 💞 Thanks so MUCH for sharing this with me like this and including the beautiful song. Music is my biggest muse so this is definitely getting added to my First Aid playlist for inspiration.