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#hws england x reader
bloodyselfshipping · 1 year
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(Hetalia Main 8 x Reader) How they talk about you!
(Gender Neutral) Headcanons ~
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Most people around Alfred would probably not realize you two are romantically involved. The way he talks about you is less like a partner and more like a best friend.
But that said, everyone would know who you are. It’s immediately obvious how close your relationship is. He seems to know everything about you.
He won’t bring you up constantly, but your presence is around him in some way.
“Who are you texting during the meeting?!” “Oh, Y/N! Right now they’re-”
“Who are you inviting?” “Y/N! I really think they’d have fun coming along-”
“Are you free tonight?” “Mm, sorry dude. I’m with Y/N tonight, just like last night, and the night before we-”
But if anyone asks, he loves talking about you. You make everything more fun, so even thinking about you makes him feel so much better!
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He doesn’t bring you up much, but when he does it’s so obvious how much he loves you. Always looking in the distance longingly…
Doesn’t share a lot of personal details, probably doesn’t even mention your name. He always calls you nicknames or just “my lover.”
Arthur prefers to keep you his little secret.
“Ah, I have to go. I have an engagement with… someone special.”
So it's usually very stilted and formal, but not because of a lack of affection. He thinks that PDA and gushing about romance in public is tactless, so he refrains.
You’re like royalty to him so he always makes sure to make his respect more apparent than anything. No one is more special to him than you <3
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The second most normal out of any of them. Although he always refers to you very romantically, that isn’t very out of line for how he normally is.
It seems as if he sees you as perfect, above others in every way. He always praises you and everything you do, to an absolutely absurd degree.
Always has very specific things he calls you in front of others.
“Ah, this reminds me of my S/O. They are like poetry in motion…”
“Every day I am inspired by Y/N, even the most impressive works of art are nothing compared to them.”
“My eternal love, they are calling to me… I must go!”  “Just say you wanna get outta here!”
He can’t help but gush about how perfect you are. He would say you are nothing less than soulmates.
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Yao is a very traditional man. From the start of your relationship, he’s always referred to you as if you were married.
Sometimes he’ll refer to you like those old men who hate their wives, but only because he doesn’t realize the full implications.
“”Aiyaa! Have to go tend to the ball and chain, see you later!”
Except when he says that, he means it affectionately. By “tending to the old ball and chain” he means laying his head in your lap for two hours and telling you about how stupid his friends are.
He’d love nothing more than to just talk to you and you alone, he doesn’t care what anyone else thinks of you two.
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Ivan CANNOT stop talking about you! Seriously, everyone is very annoyed by it. But he just can’t hold himself back, he needs everyone to know about how much he loves you.
Anytime anyone brings up something that reminds him of you, he has to go on a whole tangent. God forbid someone brings up an interest of yours, then it goes on forever.
They probably won’t even know your name because he just always uses some adorable pet name for you (:
When he misses you, it’s even worse. Anything just immediately results in,
“My darling used to call me that…” “Because it’s your name!”
If he could, he would bring you everywhere with him. So, he’ll do so in his own way (: (telling everyone who breathes in his direction about you)
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Everyone is immediately aware of your existence. He LOVES bringing you up at every opportunity. All his friends need to know about his lovely S/O right now!!!
Definitely tries to show you off.
“You know whose really attractive? My S/O! Look, see!!!”
“I just thought of something funny, one time Y/N did that! But like, they were super hot!”
“Cuore mio, everyone should see how wonderful you are. Don’t be embarrassed!”
When he gets drunk, he can’t help but talk anyone’s ear off about you. About how much you mean to him, about how proud he is of you, a lot of other stuff that seems way too sentimental for an easy-going guy like him.
Often ends up bursting into rooms just to bring news of you. He gets so emotional it can become unbearable for those around him.
He can’t imagine his life without you, and everything is just a reminder of that fact. Feliciano loves you more than anything!
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Ludwig wouldn’t not talk about you… but he wouldn’t go out of his way to do so. Not because he’s embarrassed of you, but because he’s embarrassed of how much he’s in love with you!
You make him so soft… and the thoughts of you are constantly distracting him! His darling (you) lives in his head rent-free, damn you!
“Oi Germany, is that a person on your lock-screen?” “N-No! Well… it’s my S/O… don’t make it into a situation!”
He thinks very highly of you, and trusts your judgment completely. Talking to you helps him think out his problems. That fact is so obvious that a lot of times, his friends will call you up for him when he’s panicking.
Not a fan of pet names, and can seem cold about your relationship in public. But don’t let that fool you, he doesn’t want to go a day without you!
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Very casual about you. You’re his partner, you matter a lot to him, and he’s not embarrassed about it. 
But he does use his experiences with you to help him relate to others, so you get brought up quite a lot with his friends. When he’s having trouble socially, he tries to remember everything you’ve ever told him and repeat it.
“My S/O had something similar happen to them. May I consult them on this?”
“This reminds me of something that Y/N said to me last week. Shouldn’t we just put the past behind us? They said it’s no good to dwell on these things.”
“Hm… maybe we should just go home and rest before making a decision. Besides, I want to talk to Y/N about this.” “Are you sure you don’t just miss them?” “That is a possibility.”
He acts as if you two are married, but just because you have become so important to him so quickly. You make his life so much better and easier, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.
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atom-writings · 11 months
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Nice blog! You wouldn't mind if I took a little chomp out of it yeah? :D
Mmmmm can I request France,Germany,England, Prussia and Russia with an s/o who really likes there accent and voice. S/o would listen to them talk all day just to hear there voice/accent? There just mesmerized by it.
Much appreciated partner and have a great day🙏🙏‼️‼️🔥🔥⁉️⁉️🪑🪑🪑🪑
(France, Germany, England, Prussia & Russia x Reader) S/O that loves their accent!
(Gender Neutral) Headcanons ~ A/N have fun eating my blog but beware. Theres poison sometimes :)
Trigger Warning: None, just fluff!
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Oh, you do not need to tell him that. He knows. And he adores how obsessed you are with just his voice. Don’t worry, he won’t tease you too bad
But expect to be woken up a couple of times by him reading you love poems in French. Actually, he’s doing that all the time. Anytime that he can speak to you in French, he’s doing it.
“My beautiful language for a beautiful person, no?”
It’s also pretty obvious that he exaggerates his accent for you. Sure, he’s been speaking English for centuries, but you’d never guess that from how he talks to you. It’s a little childish, but he just can’t get enough of your face whenever he says anything even remotely romantic in that silky voice of his.
Whenever he catches you staring, he can’t do anything but grin, promising himself that he’ll spoil you sometime soon for being so cute.
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Ludwig has never really liked his own voice that much, so at least someone does for him. He always complains it’s too harsh and too loud. And years of people judging him for his accent didn’t help that…
But he trusts you completely. If you say you want to hear him, he’ll talk as much as you want. But since you’re not giving him a prompt, you’re hearing about 1870s train logistics. He doesn’t make the rules.
He would try to be all affectionate and sweet like you want him to… but that is really not his forte. He tries! But you’ll just both end up blushing and stuttering and getting nothing done then. If it’s just his handsome accent you want though, you’re all good. He can make a manual on building an IKEA chair sound hot.
He’d rather hear YOU ramble than do so himself. Even if he does love how adorable you are when you’re so infatuated with him.
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No surprise there. You’re not the first partner of his to love his voice, and you won’t be the last. Luckily that means he’s got a whole lot of experience, so he knows exactly what to say to melt your heart.
“Come on, Darling, don’t look at me like that.  Why don’t we get out of here, just me and you? How about that, Love?”
He’s not much for rambling, much less talking about himself, but he can absolutely fulfil your need for his voice elsewhere. A lot of your nights spent together will be him reading some ancient novel to you, his voice soothing as ever, until you inevitably fall asleep cuddled up next to him.
He must admit, he loves having that power over you. Being able to make you fall in love with him using nothing but his words? You’re just so cute, he can’t resist flustering you on purpose.
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Well, of course you do! He’s spent centuries making sure he sounds hot as hell! But… you’re being serious right? You aren’t annoyed by how high-pitched he can get? Ok, thank god.
He is so excited once you tell him that. It’s hard to stop himself from immediately teasing you about it. After all, there isn’t a single sight that’s cuter to him than your pretty face all lost in love for him.
If you’re ever feeling down, he tries to distract you by simply telling you a long, overly complicated story from his past. Which, with those purple eyes fixed on you and a goofy smile plastered across his face, all the while his voice drips with accent, it’s hard to not get distracted.
He loves talking about himself anyway. It’s a good thing you like hearing him. Most people don’t. But that’s just what makes you two meant to be <3
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Oh, you like his voice? He’s confused. You’re being serious? … why?
The poor guy is really insecure about his voice. He worries his accent is too strong, too ugly, and his voice is way too high-pitched. It seems like no one likes when he talks… they say he’s rude and weird. So… your adoration for him and how he speaks is a real shock.
Whenever you ask him to talk more, he gets all embarrassed and doesn’t know what to say! Especially if you compliment his accent, then he just freezes up and dismisses you. Anywhere you are, he’ll start talking all quietly and cover his face with his hands. But you can still see him blushing underneath them…
But once he’s used to it, he loves just narrating the things he’s doing. Sometimes you’ll wake up and come downstairs to see him coming up with some silly song about the breakfast he’s cooking you. Learning that you like hearing him has definitely made him include stuff like that in his daily routine. 
Plus, now when he wants a reaction out of you… he’ll lean into it. Rolling his r’s dramatically, whispering to you in Russian… when he wants to be, he’s quite a tease.
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serenityinstone · 1 month
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Feline Fiasco
Hetalia x Reader
This is written for a female reader but there isn't really anything specific that would suggest that besides a few references. If you want to read, I'm not going to stop you.
Also (Y/n) is completely uninterested in the countries for the majority of this, all she's interested in is the cats. This is way fluffier than anything else I've posted, which is two things, and this part is relatively America-centric because (Y/n) works for him. This is also way less quality work than those two posts but idk deal with it?
There is more to this but it's unfinished and I'll probably never post it. My friend also helped with the cat names so if you don't like them... uh assume that they chose them. One last note, I thought it would be funny to write the accents so you also have to deal with that.
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As one of the many secretaries working in the White House, it was actually quite a surprise to you that you ended up as the main secretary to the human personification of the U.S.A.
Because of this, you had become quite close to Mr. F. Jones and more importantly: his cat.
You couldn't help but coo at the adorable and floofy feline. Sure, you should probably finish filing those papers, but national security can wait a few more minutes. Besides you couldn't resist the allure of the purr. It would be an understatement to say, when you learned that the other personifications also had furry friends of their own, you were excited.
America didn't want you interacting with the other countries, especially not Russia. But you honestly didn't care and you weren't the recording secretary for those meetings, so it's not like you were in attendance anyways. That somehow didn't stop you from having to tag along and meeting more nation cats; of which you weren't sure why they had brought them along in the first place. It's not like you were complaining.
Ball of fur after ball of fur. No cat went un-petted. Except for Germany's cat; he had evaded you time and time again. But no longer! For today was the last day and you were going to pet that cat if it was the last thing you did.
There it was. It's sleek black fur, the ribbon in Germany's signature colors around its neck, and that always alert look on its face. He would evade you no more. You crouched down in your very inflexible pencil skirt and prepared to pounce.
"Vhat are jou doing?" A voice thick with a German accent called out, startling you and the cat who decided to bound back towards him and into his arms.
"Uhhhh." You blanked.
"You're America's secretary right? Vat vere jou trying to do to my cat?" He questioned, eyes narrowing with suspicion.
You gulped and tried to explain your actions in a way that didn't sound absolutely ridiculous.
"I-uh. I wanted to pet your cat and… he kept evading me and I thought if I snuck up on him that I could pet him." You looked away and pitifully whispered, "Sorry."
"If jou vanted to pet him, all you had to do was ask."
"Really!?" Your eyes lit up and you looked up at the German with pure and unbridled excitement. He coughed and looked away with a slight blush resting on his cheeks.
"Of course." He held the cat out. You, with no hesitation whatsoever, immediately started to adore and love the cat, even shifting it from Germany's arms to your own.
As you continued to pet the cat, who despite his earlier refusal, seemed quite happy, you asked Germany a question. "My name's (Y/n). What's yours if you're willing to share? No pressure though."
His eyes widened a bit before he shook it off and gave you an answer. "Ludwig Beilschmidt." He responded, studying his cat. "Germouser seems to like jou."
You could barely stifle a laugh at the name he had given to the black cat. He sensed your amusement and gave an explanation.
"Feli- Italy named him. I vas going to name him Johann or something similar. Italy was zoroughly horrified by my suggestions and vould not rest until I vent vith his."
You smiled at the Italian's antics and shook your head with amusement. "Germouser is a fine name for an absolutely wonderful cat."
Germany seemed to get flustered again as he watched you coo at his cat, completely ignoring his presence. He would have just left him with you, but the meeting was starting soon and he didn't want to be late. Luckily for him, America decided to pop around the corner, demanding your attention. So you were forced to give up the precious kitty cat and return with Mr. Jones.
Alfred was annoyed. Not at you but at everyone else. Why did they have any right to be around you? You were an American citizen. His citizen. Sure, all you were really interested in was their cats. But what if you thought that they and their cats were so cool that you left him and went to live in a different country instead? He couldn't let that happen.
"So, (Y/n), dude, broette." He said on the way to the meeting room. "Here's the deal."
You gave him a look and raised an eyebrow.
"I need someone to watch Hero for me and my sitter flaked so you're gonna be watching him." He fingered-gunned at you and stars seemed to shine in the air around him. This, of course, was nothing new to you. It wasn’t like you would have rather been attending the meeting anyways.
So you stayed in a different unoccupied meeting room with a lovely, furry friend. It wasn't until he started hissing at a corner that you were in trouble.
"Hero, what's wrong?" You asked, concerned at the agitated cat. His tail bristled up and his ears flattened down as he took a defensive position. Out of nowhere another fluffy cat waltzed in from the very corner that Hero had been hissing at. It was Boris, a cat that belonged to Russia.
You hadn't actually gotten to pet him yet because to be honest, you were also scared of Russia. But… He wasn't around… and his cat was. And his cat was purring.
That was about all the reasoning that you needed to brush past Hero and scoop Boris up into your arms. The former started yowling for your attention and followed you as you went to sit down with the Russian cat.
You laid down on the plush carpeted floor and lifted the cat that you were holding up above you. Boris’ fluffy body was placed onto your chest and he immediately started purring louder once he got comfortable. He nuzzled his face into your neck, much to the annoyance of the American cat. Hero yowled at you and pawed at Boris, desperately trying to get him off.
Boris only gave him a smug look in return and kneaded into you, further solidifying his spot. Hero decided that it wasn’t worth the fight and that he was going to get his owner to remove the Russian cat and put him back into his mother’s lap: aka you.
The surprisingly smart and agile cat leapt around the room and pushed down the door handle, slipping out through the crack. You didn’t notice this as you were currently immersed in the bliss of a cat sitting on you and letting you pet it.
Eventually the purring lulled you into a peaceful and warm slumber, the two of you deciding to take a cat nap.
It would be Russia who found you first. Ivan realized that his cat had gone missing and he honestly didn’t care enough about the meeting to stay. It's not like anyone would try to stop him.
So as Hero bounded down the halls towards the meeting room, Mr. Ivan Braginsky came from the other direction; his sense of where his cat was at any one moment was completely uncanny.
The Russian gradually opened the wooden door and it quietly opened without any resistance. He turned his head towards where he heard purring and was met with a surprising sight. It was America’s secretary, with his cat, lying, with his cat.
You were breathing softly and the movements of your chest moving up and down also moved Boris. Ivan couldn’t help but faintly smile at the sight. Said cat opened a singular eye to acknowledge the new presence in the room. He flicked his tail and settled back into his spot. Not wanting to bother you or the cat, Ivan pulled out a chair and sat down. 
He pulled out some paperwork, seemingly from nowhere, and began to work on it. The sounds of your quiet breathing, combined with the light purr from Boris, made for a calming work environment. 
As the three of you remained in peaceful bliss, another kitty cat was running around the corner on the never ending search for food. Itabby trotted up and down the corridors looking for an open door that might lead to some food that didn’t come from England. Her golden fur glimmered as the sun shined through the many windows in the building. She looked over at a door that had opened slightly and was too blinded by the thought of food to notice the scarily familiar scent coming from the room.
Itabby scampered over to the door but screeched and meowed as she was sent flying by an American blonde and his equally irritated cat. She tentatively peered around the door at the scene forming.
“HEY!” Alfred yelled, startling both you and the cat. You shot up straight, Boris falling into your lap. “What are you doing with her?!” He yelled again, getting his face up into Ivan’s. The other man gave him an unamused look and stood up, towering over him. Alfred, despite this, did not back down and continued to stare angrily at him.
“Go away.” The white-haired male said, his accent heavy as he crossed his arms. “You have startled them with your unnecessary noise. You are just like the rest of your country.”
The air tensed and became heavier as the seconds went on. They began to size each other up as Hero, ironically, “heroically” walked proudly over to you and with his front paws, pushed Boris off of your lap. He quickly took his place and started purring. Boris’ fur began to puff up as he hunched down and prepared to pounce. His back legs flexed and he made the jump, sending both him and Hero flying towards their fighting owners, who were remarkably somehow not in a physical fight. Yet.
You very quickly realized that you did not want to be in the middle of  two superpowers fighting and quietly took your leave. (E/c) eyes met feline amber ones and you swept up the cat and made your escape, leaving behind the feuding men and cats.
Itabby snuggled into your arms as you finally slowed down to catch your breath. Her round tail whooshed back and forth as you tiredly walked through the long hallway. The two of you eventually ended up in the rose gardens of the meeting building. The area was well taken care of and beautiful if you did say so yourself. The meeting was taking place in England and Mr. Jones had told you about how the Brit enjoyed gardening, so it made sense as to why it was here.
Speaking of the British, you spotted a fluffy feline shape from the corner of your eye. It was deeper into the gardens and among the trees. Itabby finally decided that it was time to go and return to her owner. She gracefully leaped out of your arms and landed on all fours and trotted off to beg Italy for some pasta. You instead continued your approach to the cat, which at this point, you could tell was a Scottish Fold.
The left side of his face was brown and so was his tail. Alike to his owner, he seemed to have what you assumed were some kind of eyebrows and when he opened his eyes to look at you, his olive eyes stared into yours. He flicked his tail and layed back down onto the wall that he was laying on. His collar jingled as he moved and you quietly moved up to him. On the gold circle attached to the same olive color collar, was a name.
‘Scone’ You thought. ‘Oh my god. This is the most English cat name I have ever seen.’
You almost started laughing but the smoldering glare the cat gave you made you think otherwise. The stone wall was surprisingly cold for the summer sun and as you sat down, you took a look at Scone. He seemed to still be quite grumpy, but he knew you from earlier in the week, so he was not alarmed. You lifted up and moved your left arm forward to start petting him.
Scone was soft and clearly well-taken care of. His fur was clean and had no knots or dirt insight, despite laying around a garden for half a day. You continued your actions and the both of you started to fall back into slumber. Your hand hovered on the back of the feline and your head slumped alongside your body.
It was peaceful. With birds chirping and the wind lightly blowing. There was a river babbling somewhere in the background and it made for a serene scene. The only reason he had let you pet him was because you had fed him earlier in the week. He didn’t have his collar at that point so this was the first time you had gotten his name. Your eyes closed as you recalled the event from a couple of days prior.
The day after the plane landed you were on the hunt for felines. Armed with some cat food, a retractable mouse-on-a-stick and hope, you made your way around the building England had set aside for housing the rampant countries, and byproduct, their cats. France’s cat, Monsieur, was an absolute attention wh-. He really liked attention, and would rub himself against your leg anytime the two of you crossed paths. It’s not like France, or Francis, was much better.
It’s not like you minded petting him. He was adorable after all. The cat, not Francis. But you had wanted to meet as many other cats as you could and so you had to stop by Francis’ room multiple times to drop off Monsieur.
“Je suis désolé.” He said, taking Monsieur out of your arms. “He keeps getting out. But I guess he knows when there’s a lovely lady around.”
You ignored his attempts at flirting and instead scratched Monsieur’s chin one last time before leaving. He purred at you and while you felt bad about leaving him, you were on a mission! Besides, you had a certain Japanese cat to track down. Monsieur meowed at you as you walked down the hallway and if you didn’t know better you’d say so did Francis.
Either way, nothing was going to stop you from petting Tama, Japan’s cat. He was an adorable little black and white feline with the cutest little bob for a tail. You had actually spotted him earlier and was about to go up to him before Monsieur literally jumped into your arms, demanding attention. Of course you weren’t going to say no so Tama quickly left your sight as you went to return Monsieur. 
Wait, isn't Monsieur just sir in French? Oh well there was no time to think about questionable cat names, this building was full of them.
Monsieur wasn’t the only attention whore of a cat. Prussia’s cat, Purrussia, wasn’t much better. He would follow you down hallways and meow with his scratchy meow at you while Austria’s cat, Allegro, whined behind him. He literally tried to jump up at you a few times.
Of course both of them were interrupted when Hero ran straight at you and tackled you like a professional linebacker. You had thought that it was mostly fluff, but no, apparently Hero could pack a punch. He knocked the wind out of you as you fell backwards onto the tiled floor. The cat sat proudly on you and looked around like he was waiting for something or someone. Whoever he was waiting for, however, wouldn’t show up fast enough to see Purrussia return the favor and tackle Hero off of you, much to Allegro’s horror. 
The white cat had a German ribbon as well but it looked like it was fraying at the edges. The reason you were bringing this up was because Hero was currently using one of the edges to try to choke Purrussia and Allegro was using the other to try to pull Purrussia away from Hero. Neither was really working and all it was really doing was making Purrussia more and more agitated.
“PURRUSSIA!!!” A shrill voice yelled out from down the hallway.
The cats stopped their roughhousing to see two of the countries barrelling down towards them. Well Prussia was. Austria was slowly walking over, looking more inconvenienced than anything else.
“Purrussia! Purrussia!” Prussia reiterated, pulling his cat up by its arms. “Did jou vin?!”
Everyone but the two Prussians stared in disbelief at his statement. The albino feline furiously nodded his head and if he could have talked you would have imagined that he would have been saying, ‘I’m awesome!’
Hero angrily meowed down below, as if to oppose Purrussia’s non-verbal statement. Allegro just haughtily licked his paw and stuck his nose up as if to pretend that he was disgusted with their fighting as if he hadn’t just been a part of it. Austria picked up his in-denial cat and you picked up Hero who calmed down as soon as you did. 
“Sorry about him.” You said, brushing his unruly fur down with your hand. “He gets a little competitive.”
“Ja. It’s fine.” Austria said, petting his own cat. “Purrussia is not much better.”
“HEY!” Prussia yelled. “My awesome Purrussia is doing his best! And besides, at least he actually does something!”
“Jour cat picked a fight vith a vall (wall) Gilbert.” Austria sassed.
“Vell jour cat’s piano playing is trash!”
Austria gave a gasp of horror before inching closer to the Prussian.
“Jou take zat back, RIGHT NOW!”
Prussia just laughed, still letting Purrussia’s back paws dangle as he held him like one would a toddler. He got in close to the Austrian’s face, smiling deviously at him.
“Nein.”
He suddenly, while still holding Purrussia, took off, running away from Austria. He wasn’t far behind though and you could hear the man yelling in German all the way down the far corridor.
“Well Hero.” You said, looking down at the cat who had made himself very comfortable. “That was weird.”
He just snuggled closer to you and you sighed. You scratched him once more before heading down the opposite hallway. The destination was clear, before you could continue your cat quest, you’d have to get this one safely back to its owner.
You suddenly snapped back to reality, still sitting on the wall. The sun was now high in the sky and the spot underneath you was no longer cold. You were especially warm as you now had a Scottish Fold sitting comfortably upon your lap. Quietly cooing at the cat, you looked to see if there was any way to escape your furry prison. The most important rule of cats: once a cat sits on you, you’re not moving until they do.
You sighed, legs uncomfortably stiff. Scone was far more content and his bushy tail occasionally brushed against your leg. It was incredibly cute but it didn’t make your back stop hurting from being hunched over for the last half hour.
Voices came from farther within the garden. There were two people currently engaged in a soft conversation. You caught bits and pieces of it; there was a man with a British accent and a man with what you thought was American until you heard him say ‘aboot.’ You couldn’t help but snicker at your own observation, disturbing Scone in the process.
He scornfully meowed at you and you offered pets in an apology. Around the corner turned Scone’s owner and a man who looked incredibly similar to America. They both turned to look at you when the Scottish Fold you were fondling stretched out to impossible lengths and complained like a cat while he did it. England looked down at your lap to see his cat very happily cushioned on your thighs. The man next to him was also holding a cat who again looked very similar to America’s.
They were clearly different though. This man’s hair was more auburn and his eyes were a shade of impossible purple. There was also more of a wave to it whereas America’s hair was as straight as hair comes. Familiarity lit up in your eyes, not for the man however.
“Maple!” You exclaimed, wanting to go to the cat but also not willing to disturb the one on you. “How have you been?”
The men stared at you, wondering if you were talking to them or the cat. Of course Maple himself answered this as he jumped out of his owner’s arms and darted over to you. He gracefully climbed up the small wall and placed himself down by you. Scone was on your lap and he was nicer than Hero so as to not push him off. You moved one of your arms to pet Maple and kept the other on Scone. They were so cute you felt like you were going to explode.
“Oh.” A quiet voice spoke out. It came from the man behind England. “You’re Alfred’s secretary right?”
You smiled and nodded at the man. “And I assume that means you’re Canada, right?”
He looked a tad taken aback before nodding himself. “Yeah…” He trailed off and England instead picked up the conversation.
“I thought you were supposed to be watching his furrball cat, Hero.” He walked over and leaned against the wall.
“I was. But then he and Boris got into a catfight… and then America and Russia got into a catfight.”
Canada laughed in the background but quickly covered it up. England stared at Scone, looking to see if there was anyway to get him off of you without being scratched himself. He had enough injuries, that should have scarred had he not been a country, from the cat. He shivered a bit, though also began to pet the feline, scratching his under the chin.
“That sounds like those two.”
You hummed in agreement, continuing your affections. Canada also came over to pet his own cat who ironically did smell like maple syrup. 
“Can I make you the villain of this story?” You asked England, gesturing to Scone. “I do actually have somewhere I need to be.”
“Oh I suppose I can assume that role.” He mused, carefully picking up his cat. He was not happy to be moved but England just shushed him.
Canada also picked up his cat who was slightly nicer about the whole thing. He fidgeted with Maple’s ear as he held him.
“I’m Matthew.” He said, carefully shifting Maple so he could put one arm out to shake your hand.
You finished the formal greeting. “I’m (Y/n).”
The other blonde butted in from the background. “I’m Arthur, love.”
“It’s very nice to formally meet both of you. Seeing you from across a meeting room doesn’t really count.” You smiled and gave a small pat to each of the feline’s heads. “Well I wasn’t kidding about needing to get somewhere. I really didn’t mean to get stopped as long as I did.” 
You playfully glared at the Scottish Fold sitting comfortably in his owner's arms. He promptly ignored you, instead turning around cutely. England apologized but you told him it was fine. You were at least 50% sure that Mr. Jones was probably still fighting with Russia. Those two really were like angry cats. You waved the two men off and went on your way to find out the answer to that question.
Instead of coming across two feuding superpowers, you came across two of the Asian nations’ cats. You had already met them both but this was the first time you were seeing them together. Tama was sitting up high on a shelf while China’s cat, Meowzedong, was angrily meowing at him from down below. Everytime he tried to climb up, Tama would use a paw and swipe a book or other object down at him.
You flinched as a very breakable, very expensive-looking, vase crashed down. It was this movement that alerted the two cats to your presence and Meowzedong wasted no time at all to come over to you and complain. Now you couldn’t exactly speak cat but you got the jist.
Bending down, you carefully picked up the cat. Meowzedong always had a weird clump of fur that looked almost like a ponytail that, no matter how much China cut it, always grew back. He yowled at you and pointed a furry paw in Tama’s direction. The other cat had already loafed on top of the high shelf and you looked at him, back at Meowzedong, back at Tama, and then back at Meowzedong again.
“I don’t know how tall you think I am but I’m not that tall.”
Meowzedong just narrowed his eyes and meowed at you again. You sighed, looking back at Tama. If he had a long enough tail to flick it at you he would’ve. Sensing the futility of his quest, Meowzedong instead spread himself out in your arms and if you didn’t know better you would have said that he was mocking Tama. And if you really didn’t know better you’d say that it was working and that the bobtail was getting more irritated by the second. The personifications might have had to act cordial but their cats had no such qualms.
Finally, Tama de-loafed himself and gracefully hopped down a few other layers before reaching the bottom. He gracefully walked over to you and sat on your foot… Well shoot. What were you supposed to do now?
So here you were, from one cat prison to the next. Standing in the middle of some random, out-of-the-way hallway because the nations’ cats were all attention-hogging, though very adorable, brats.
You didn’t know how much time had actually passed. There was no clock in the hallway, you didn’t wear a watch, and both of your hands were occupied so you couldn’t check your phone. As cute as they were, your legs felt like they were about to collapse in on themselves. You couldn’t even shift how you were standing because Tama had taken it upon himself to lay across both of your shoes. Your arms also felt like they were going to fall off at any second. Meowzedong wasn’t a particularly heavy cat but try holding anything over five pounds for longer than five minutes.
You were desperately hoping that either they would finally get bored and leave or someone would come to save you. Wow you guessed you really did need a “Hero” right about now… Dammit you thought that referencing needing a hero in your head would magically summon America or his equally hotheaded cat.
“Tama. Meowzedong.” You murmured. “Can you please get off?” You hoped to whatever god or gods were out there that they didn’t hear the desperation in your voice. Never show weakness to a cat.
The two cats made eye contact with each other for a moment and seemed to come to an agreement. Meowzedong stretched his body out before jumping onto the ground. Tama did the same but instead greeted Meowzedong when he landed.
It wouldn’t be an exaggeration if you said that you collapsed onto the wooden floor below. You quickly got up however as you didn’t want them to see it as another chance to sit on you. At least not right now. You pulled out your phone to see all of the messages and calls you missed. You had put it on silent while watching Hero and forgot to turn it back to vibrate.
‘Oh my god Mr. Jones called me twenty-three times.’ You thought, frantic. ‘I’m gonna be in so much trouble!’
You raced down the hallway, startling a group of micronations as you went. There was no time to apologize! You had to keep your job! If not for you then for the cats!
Not even thinking to knock you burst open the door where America was staying, side note why wasn’t it locked? And were greeted with the sight of!... Mr. Jones… crying? His cat looked pretty dejected too and was currently hanging himself off the side of the bed like a rug.
“Sir?” His head shot up to look at you.
He quickly snapped his head back away, mushing at his face in an attempt to try to make it seem like he wasn’t crying.
“(Y-Y/n)” He stuttered for a second, before immediately going back to the hero persona. “Where’ve you been!?”
“Are you okay?” You ignore him, instead asking your own question.
You titiled your body to look at what he was looking at… Was that a framed picture of you?!
It didn’t matter because he was very quickly all in your face again. You could see what seemed to be a rapidly healing black eye and a tooth that hadn’t fully regrown in yet as he smiled at you. Just how long was he fighting with Russia for?
You sat him down on his bed, considering if you should even bother getting a medkit for him. Either way you ended up spending the rest of the day with him, watching movies and sitting what you considered a good ways away from each other on the plush couch. He apparently had a nicer room in all of England’s properties from when he used to live there during parts of the year.
Hero filled the gap in-between you of which America was mildly annoyed about. He kept trying to get you to use ‘Alfred’ but you insisted that it was unprofessional. He’d close the gap one day.
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mimimyluv · 7 months
Note
Hetalia y/n’s have to stand together, how about England x Reader where y/n admires his tattoos?
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anon bless your heart because this lead me down a path of picturing arthur as a prep with secret tattoos and i promptly blacked out. when i woke up i ended up with this oneshot. i hope you enjoy and may your meals always be delicious and your pillow always cold (or warm depending on how you like it lol). also i wasn't sure if you wanted smut, so it's sfw (just to be safe). but it's still suggestive. if you wanted full-blown smut tho just lmk 👍
⏆﹒⬚﹒🍏﹒➲﹒reader admiring arthur's tattoos; gn! reader (nothing specified), 800 words/4k characters, fluff with some suggestive themes. lowercase intended.
the contrast is interesting, you muse.
your lover’s always projected a proper– if not a tad pretentious– image of the quintessential upper-class english man. he has all his clothes and shoes tailored; every thread and button perfectly bespoke (the extra costs just for suit jackets can be somewhat incomprehensible, but he always assures you it is a perfectly good investment. you never complain too much– not when he’s so damn handsome in those same bespoke suits).
he drinks his tea with a pinky up; always, always with the fine, intricately painted porcelain (an antique dating back to the victorian era, he often tells you).
he rubs elbows with the upper echelons of london society; engaging in those stereotypical, hoity-toity activities only people with money to burn can do (polo, horseback riding, fucking golf… it would make you laugh if it weren’t for his tall, elegant frame, with the lean, subtle musculature of the ideal english sportsman).
but beneath that proper exterior, though– there’s something more passionate, something more untamed lurking. while arthur often keeps that side of him under wraps, you have the privilege of being privy to it in numerous ways.
you’re reminded of it as you laze next to him in his sheets, basking in the post-sex afterglow. his back is to you, you can fully take in the smattering of golden freckles across his fair skin, and… oh.
“i haven’t seen this one before.”
you trace your fingers along the merfolk inked on his back. you try to summon some hazy memories from a past gallery date with arthur– ah, yes. it’s a near-identical replica of john william waterhouse’s mermaid, except…
it’s you. replacing the mermaid combing her long, auburn hair is you. you’re in that same, languid pose, with just a long white fabric draped tightly along your body to preserve the barest modicum of modesty. somehow, though– with the sultriness of your eyes, the curve of your bare neck and shoulders– this remaster of waterhouse’s mermaid somehow seems more… suggestive.
“do you like it?” he murmurs, turning over to face you. his forest-green eyes are lidded, light, feathered lashes nearly resting on the top of his freckled cheeks. this is the most relaxed you’ve ever seen him; your heart leaps for a split second.
“a tattoo of me?” you say, mock-dryly. still, your face is warm, and you can’t help but smile. “i thought you hated cliches.”
“ah, well.” suddenly, he’s blushing too. his freckles are even more stark against his skin; you barely resist the urge to trace your thumb all over them. “some… can be alright.”
you grin.
“when did you get this?”
“a few weeks after our date to the tate.”
you can’t help but snort out a laugh, fond.
“and you said you were done with tattoos, hm?”
“when i saw that painting,” the pinkness of his cheeks deepen, “i just couldn’t stop seeing you. so one last tattoo couldn’t hurt, i suppose.”
“mhm, it’s not like i mind,” you whisper, drawing a hand down to trace the tudor roses and ivy inked along his ribs, “you know i love your tattoos, arthur.”
“perhaps that’s why i had it done,” he laughs raspily, “you might only want me for my tattoos. needed something to keep the spark alive, don’t you think, my dear?”
“don’t be an idiot.” you lightly chastise him, then draw him closer for a kiss, bracing him by your hand on the back of his head. unlike the heated, passionate kisses you two shared earlier, he moves his mouth against yours slowly and indulgently; the kind of kiss that could lull you to slumber after a long day.
“let me see it again, then.” you say against his lips, quiet and muffled. he smirks, uncharacteristically roguish.
“i believe you just proved my earlier point.”
“oh, shut up.”
he complies anyway, shifting so you can see his back; this time, you can study it more clearly. your face, stark as day– maybe it’s corny, but you can’t help the way your heart leaps at the sight. proper, upper-class arthur kirkland being lovestruck enough to have you permanently inked on his skin, even when he’s eschewed tattoos and everything that can be linked to delinquency in favor of his image. there’s just something truly… amazing about it.
“i wanna see the rest.” you mumble. he rolls over, pretending to grumble.
“maybe you really are just with me for my tattoos, love.”
you ignore him and look over the rest of his tattoos– the tudor roses and ivy on his ribs; the plantagenet lions on his left shoulder; a hobbes’ quote– a great leap in the dark– on his right forearm.
and now, the portrait of you as waterhouse’s mermaid on his back.
“i do love your tattoos, arthur.” you quietly repeat, settling down next to him. you draw nearer, hooking a leg over his body and resting your head against his chest; his heartbeat thrums in a consistent pitter-patter right next to your ear.
“but i love you more.”
he’s silent, but he combs his fingers– long, graceful, and work-worn– through your hair.
“i love you too.”
“yeah.” you smile drowsily. you can see yourself as a merfolk in your hazy mind's eye, forever inked on his back. “i know.”
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Note
For the suggestive texting part, did she also sent suggestive photos but played it off as something innocent? Like let's say sending a photo of herself wearing nothing but her underwear and artie's oversized shirt with a book in hand the text saying "This book is getting boring, when are you coming home?"
england x reader II playful and naughty teasing pt.2
part 1
NSFW UNDER THE CUT
england
suggestive photos yes
sending them at the start of the convo is not effective with him
send them at the end
oversized shirt, football jersey works too
must play it innocent of course
you can't send such things to a gentleman could you ?
falls for it too easily
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milaisreading · 4 months
Note
Y/N: Can you guys please do something for me? *Giving them a cute face.*
*The Hetalia guys are blushing.* The countries: Anything for you. What is it?
Y/N: Can you guys help me to hide a dead body?
Italy, not even bothering to listen: Let me help you, bella!
Germany, calculating in his head how to make the body disappear: Alright, I need gloves,bleach, a bathtub, acid...
Japan, after debating in his head for a moment: Let me call my good old friends.
Yn: Who?
Japan: The Yakuza
America: Alright there, dudette! You hero will go a shovel a hole and you go and think of an alibi!
Canada,after his soul traveled around the globe and came back to him: Alright... I know a place where there is a lot of ice and snow right now
England: Consider that a done job, love. After I am done with it we could maybe grab some food-
France, covering his mouth while looking excitedly at Yn: I will do that, cherie! Then WE can go and have a quiet dinner!
Yn, sweatdropping as they start fighting: You two...
China: Aiya! None of you are old or experienced enough to hide dead bodies, let me do that.
Yn, bow more worried: E-experienced?! You did this before?
China: How do you think did I get rid of your suitors?
Yn: My what?!
China: Not important.
Russia: I will call on a few people I know. Don't worry, sunflower, you won't be suspected even for a second :)
Yn: T-thanks, Russia-
Russia: But, just to make sure, you should stay at my house for a while
The rest of twb group: NO! ARE YOU INSANE?!
Yn, while the others are arguing:... Denmark will pay for this dare...
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hwsing · 1 year
Text
giving head
warnings/notes: 18+, reader is afab and gender neutral. includes: england (arthur kirkland), america (alfred f. jones), france (francis bonnefoy), n.italy (feliciano vargas). as always, reblogs are appreciated
arthur kirkland
while arthur can be an awfully impatient man, he’s quick to slow as he lowers himself to be eye-level with your cunt. he’s the type to nearly drool as he spreads your legs, watching your cunt spread, just for him. he’ll look up to meet your gaze before gently blowing on your clit, his cock twitching in his pants at the way you shudder.
arthur loves to go down on you. despite being all ‘prim and proper,’ he loves a mess; and so, he loves to make you a mess, too. if you let him, there are nights where he’ll give you multiple orgasms through oral alone, ignoring the ache in his cock as you moan out and clamp your thighs around his head. he’ll suck on your clit, his tongue rubbing against it before wondering lower, prodding at your hole; he’ll tongue fuck you, licking against your walls until his tongue hurts. arthur will force your legs apart, wrapping his hands around your thighs as your cunt drools; don’t worry! he’ll clean up after. really, he doesn’t mind at all.
actually, if he’s given permission to be a bit more mean towards you, he’ll tease you for making a mess — he loves to bully you a bit. he’ll even nip or slap your clit if you talk back to him! when you squeak or whine at the pain, he’ll remind you that as long as you behave, he’ll help you cum. he likes feeling completely responsible for your pleasure, and if you let him, he’ll restrain you to further your dependence on him in the moment.
alfred f. jones
while it’s not something that crosses his mind too often, when he has you laid out beneath him, spreading your legs to let him see your pretty pussy, he nearly gets light headed as the blood rushes to his cock at how soaked you are. he says something about how he’s gonna eat you up as he lowers his face, tongue quickly darting out to lick up between your folds.
alfred is the kind of guy who has little technique, but his passion makes up for it completely. he’ll sloppily eat you out, making disgusting slurp sounds the more wet you become; he doesn’t really get why you get so embarrassed sometimes! he loves to hear you call out his name, your hand grabbing at his hair to pull him closer to your cunt. he’ll grin against you, determined to rock your world.
really, really, really likes when you sit on his face. what do you mean you’ll crush him? please, he’s way stronger than he looks, trust him! he’ll grip your hips and force you to lower yourself on his face, humming as you make such pretty noises. this is his favourite way to eat you out; the angle is perfect, and you have no way to push his head away and interrupt him. as long as you let him, he’ll totally get his full from this.
francis bonnefoy
believes that pleasure is a form of art, through and through; he has an intimidating amount of experience, and is quick to discover what you like. whatever your preferences are, francis is more than capable of providing them. he’ll pay close attention to what makes your head spin; experimenting with how to toy with your clit (do you like when he sucks on it softly, or when he practically tries to milk it? do you prefer circular or side-side motions? do you like a slow build up with sudden fast movements?). whatever you like, he’s bound to figure it out, and when he does, he’ll be almost relentless.
he does like to kitten lick, though. truth be told, he does like to tease you, just a bit; he simply wants to hear just how much you want more. he’ll comply the moment you ask, don’t worry! after all, he must reward you for speaking up!
after spending time between your legs, he finds that the smell of you lingers in his scruff. it’s faint, but, he soaks it in — a reminder of your night together. it arouses him so, but he’s patient to wait until next time. he’ll tell you about how much he craves you, how good you taste, how your smell teases him the following day; it’d be cruel to not let him have another taste, no?
feliciano vargas
feliciano prefers receiving, however, don’t let that fool you; he knows his way around your cunt like the back of his hand. he thinks it’s only natural to! he loves you, and loves to make you feel good. he’ll stay between your legs as long as you want him to, more than happy to be of use to you.
this is 100% about you; all he wants is for you to enjoy yourself and get off. the moment you ask, he’s already nudging you towards a place when you can sit down while he falls to his knees, spreading your legs. he’ll sensually lick your clit, swirling his tongue around your bud before wrapping his plump lips around it. he’ll gather spit in his mouth and let it drool down your cunt as he plays with your clit, your sounds of pleasure being music to his ears. he’ll do anything you tell him to do — but, it should be noted that you don’t necessarily have to. he knows what he’s doing; leave it to him, and he’ll bring you up to cloud nine with ease.
feliciano loves when you yank him off your cunt with your hand gripping his hair; he’ll look up at you with his lower face positively drenched, a small grin and lazy eyes meeting yours. “no more, tesoro?” he’ll ask softly, and when you calm down and steady your breath, sheepishly dragging him back to your cunt slowly, he’ll happily reach out, his neck extending to get closer faster, his tongue already darting out to get to your cunt.
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headingalaxys-spicy · 3 months
Note
Hi!
Could you please write a headcanon on how Canada, Russia, Germany, Prussia and England (with England both Arthur and Alice) would react on coming home wile their s/o dozed off on the couch from exhaustion?
Oooooh a chance for some fluff. Here you go 🌟
🇨🇦 Canada 🇨🇦
He would find it cute that you’re splayed all over the couch like an exhausted polar bear after a massive brunch. He would boop your nose and see how many times he can get away with doing so before you wake up. He will even pull out a counter. It takes him a minute to realize that many papers are crowded behind you on the couch. When you finally become conscious, you immediately recognize the concern on his face. You explain that the latest project that will need to be completed by mid-spring has a few issues that have come up. Matthew will offer to make you a hot drink and run your nightly bath. He will put his nose to yours and say:
“I love you my sweet maple.”
🇬🇧 England 🇬🇧
“How adorable,” He will say to himself as he enters the living room that had dimming light from the early evening sun. He snaps his fingers and flying mint bunny appears in a paparazzi outfit. The green bunny was ready to get the scoop. He took impromptu photos while you were in your deep slumber. Arthur saves these photos for a secret scrapbook that he may or may not show you one day. He will walk over to get a better view of your beautiful face. As he removes some of the hair from your face, he can see that the bags under your eyes have expanded over the last few months. He worried about your increasing workload and some of the other things that have been happening in your life. Arthur will stroke your face gently and leave you with a kiss on the cheek.
“I suppose I should prepare some tea.”
🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿🌼 England Nyo! 🌼🏴󠁧󠁢󠁥󠁮󠁧󠁿
Each time she comes home to you she considers herself lucky. A sense of ease washes over her as you slept soundly on the couch. However, Alice is a bit of a worrywart when it comes to you. You’d been coming home to pass out on the couch daily for the past few weeks. She placed her hand on top of your forehead to make sure you weren’t running a fever. Once she sees that the coffee table is covered in books, documents, and highlighters, she immediately knows the testing season is underway. Alice still thought working this much wasn’t normal, but she was eager to see you achieve your dreams. Out of love and valuing it higher above her ego, she’ll give France a call and ask for assistance in making an incredible meal that tastes great and gets you your energy back.
🇩🇪 Germany 🇩🇪
He’s not so great at describing what his heart feels so a smile graces his face as well as the sudden appearance of butterflies and Edelweiss. This is his standard reaction since most can’t relax within his presence. However, as he came over so that he could have a better view of you he was concerned. A pen was held in your fist while you were face down on some papers as your lungs dragged in oxygen. Ludwig accidentally stepped on some of the documents that had fallen to the floor. This will give him pause and make him question just how strenuous your job has become for you lately. As you let out a yawn and turn yourself over, Ludwig can’t help but admire you for a few moments as you continue your slumber. He will organize your papers and leave you to slumber soundly.
🐥 Prussia 🐥
Gilbert will rouse you from your slumber as he shouts your name loudly as soon as he gets through the door. When he comes to you on the couch, he takes notice of your extremely messy hair, indentations of your skin from the couches’ pillows, and dried-up drool.
“Wow, someone had an insanely crazy nap! You look like you haven’t slept in weeks! Vhats going on with you lately?”
Once you explain that the combination of school and work is beginning to make you reach burnout, Gilbert will be quick to offer to help you with chores. He wants you to be successful and not quit what you’ve started. He will aggressively tussle your hair and pinch your cheeks as he looks you dead in your eyes and says:
“Remember that tassel is worth the hassle!”
🇷🇺 Russia 🇷🇺
Ivan heard you drop like a Nordmann fir passing out in an empty forest. He couldn’t react right away since he was in the middle of a Zoom meeting with his boss. Once he came into the living room to see that you’d already reached the cavernous depths of slumber, he decided it was best to keep you there. A shiver caught his eye as you shifted in your sleep. The late winter frost had taken a bite out of you. Ivan reaches for the blankets draped on the back of the couch. He couldn’t let you freeze, but he also couldn’t let you reach burnout, either. Ivan had noticed that you’d been giving it your all in your career, but you’d never had any energy to spare when you’d gotten home. It was a conversation for a later time, but he kept it in the back of his mind as he took a moment to take in your sleeping face that the winter air had kissed. His giant bear paw hands warm your cheeks as he kisses your forehead. Before he leaves you to rest, he lit up the fireplace to ensure your comfort.
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hetafice · 4 months
Text
allies taking care of a sick/injured partner :
𖤐 ִֶָ 𓂃 🧷
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request: How many characters will you write for at once? I’d love to see the Main 8 taking care of their partner as they’re bedridden (sick, injured, etc). If I have to limit it to a certain # of characters, just lmk for the future and you can pick whoever you’ve got the most ideas for for this? 
a/n: i think the limit will be capped at 4-5. for the sake of cohesion i chose to write for each of the allies. enjoy!
America
He will absolutely baby you. To the point where it could easily become overwhelming. 
In general, he suffers from the too-much gene in combination with his savior complex. Any injury on your end just exacerbates it.
I think he would also feel guilty on some level that he let you get injured in the first place, even if it was not his fault. So to overcompensate, he will refuse to let you do anything even remotely strenuous.
It starts off genuinely helpful. If you’re having a hard time moving around he’ll gladly help you sit up or move around. The issues arise once you start healing up a bit more. Rather than let you return to taking care of yourself, he’ll drag out the process for as long as possible.  
It does not matter if you’ve been okay for weeks and can function normally, he’ll still insist on completing menial tasks for you. He might also try and prohibit you from doing anything he perceives as dangerous. If you put up a big enough fight he’ll let you do it, but only in his presence. 
 If you don’t mind being babied, great--he’ll gladly keep it up. If you don’t want to constantly be hovered over, and voice that to him, expect some pouting from his end.
Russia
Like Alfred, he is similarly overbearing but will relent if asked to do so. 
Outwardly, Ivan is not a super emotional guy. However, if his partner was sick to the point of being bedridden, some of his emotions might start slipping through the cracks.
He’s protective and nurturing by nature, but past circumstances have forcefully muted that part of his personality. Your being sick would absolutely kickstart those instincts again. He would perfectly fill the role of a caretaker, cooking, cleaning, and nursing you back to health to the best of his ability,
He would be extra attentive in the mornings before he had to go to work. He’d check up on you, help you take your medication, and would try to boost your strength by cooking a healthy breakfast.
The constant checkups could get suffocating, but he genuinely only wants you to recover as fast as possible. And in his mind, that means being around you constantly to monitor your condition, or to provide whatever aid necessary.
Your being really sick serves as a way for him to realize how much he truly treasures you.
China
He is constantly badgering you about preserving your health, so when he first notices you aren’t feeling well he is far from pleased. When you tell him exactly what’s wrong he’s even more upset.
He’s a fixer, and he immediately jumps at the opportunity to find some remedy whether you want him to or not. The second he hears a sniffle from you, he’s already handing you mugs of strange concoctions and loading your meals with as many nutrient-rich vegetables as possible.
He’ll whip out holistic medicines that no one has heard of in centuries (and honestly, they might just work lol)
After the first time you get sick, he would also start trying to give you organic and highly medicinal foods, but as a preventative measure.
In parts of China, some people recommend drinking hot water in response to any small ailment. To Yao, it's a cure for everything, and from the first time you wake up in a cold sweat to the last, you’ll be handed glasses of barely drinkable water. Good luck with that. Honestly, who knows? Maybe drinking half a liter of hot water will stop whatever sickness you have from developing further -- or at the very least, distract you from your symptoms?
England 
He is the type to say “I told you so” and pretend to not care, while still actively taking care of you.
He’ll chastise you for getting sick, maybe even going as far as to threaten to not take care of you should it happen again, but when it inevitably does he starts taking care of you without a second thought.
He’ll make sure you are comfortable, and have taken your meds on time, and will even prep tea for you if need be.
This scolding while simultaneously nursing you back to health is nothing new. You start sniffling or coughing, and he tells you that you should know better and not count on him to take care of him. Then only a few hours later when you’re sitting down somewhere trying to work on something you’ll see him checking up on you from the hallway from the corner of your eye.
He will by no means dote on you, but he makes sure to lend a helping hand whenever possible. 
France
You’ll be left primarily to your own devices with this one.
Francis understands that you’re injured, and finds it very unfortunate, but unless you are seriously hurt you are going to be fending for yourself.
He won’t leave you completely out to dry though. Should you need something he’ll do his best to get it--but most of the menial practical tasks that come with taking care of someone unwell will be left to either you or a medical professional to manage.
His role is mainly to keep you comfortable and entertained. This is where he feels more confident taking the reins.
He’ll employ a variety of methods to make sure you’re relaxed. He’ll sporadically bring you glasses of red wine, help you with your skincare routine, offer massages, etc.
When it comes to leisure, rest, and relaxation he’s got it down pat.
Out of all of them, he would be the most likely to delegate a medical professional to come and take care of you in his stead. It’s not that he does not care, or feels inadequate; it’s just that someone trained in matters of rehabilitation would probably be more suited to the job--and what kind of partner would he be if he did not offer you the best of the best?
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merbear25 · 2 months
Note
Can you do Hetalia Axis x female reader x Allies? They are all figthing for the reader's love.
Hello! Even though this is more than the 3 character limit, I realize it would kind of defeat the fun and purpose of the ask to limit it. Instead, I decided to put them on a scale of most to least competitive with blurbs. Hope you like it!
CW: SFW, fem!reader in mind but nothing specific mentioned
Most to least competitive with a shared romantic interest (Axis and Allies)
Most
Italy: He'd constantly be around, chatting with you, being touchy feely, and overall hard to ignore. This might be his greatest advantage: you would have constant exposure to his silly ways which would make him hard to forget.
France: It was hard deciding if he'd be more or less competitive than Italy, but his means of getting your attention are far less of a resemblance to spamming. He'd rely heavily on romantic gestures, which may just do the trick.
England: In spite of his moments of self-loathing, he'd be confident enough to pursue you. He couldn't bear the thought of any of the others being with someone as lovely as you. You deserved a gentleman, and he'd be good and ready to fit that.
Germany: Even though he's more reserved and quiet, he's a go-getter. If he wanted something, he'd go by whichever means to get it ―this would include you. He'd be thoughtful about how he got your attention but would still be super nervous about his feelings for you.
America: Despite dominating nearly every conversation he's apart of, he wouldn't have the easiest time maintaining your attention. Sure, he'd be one of the first to come chat you up, but he wouldn't be the most suave with his flirting. He'd try but it may be a hit or miss.
China: Not nearly the loudest of the first half but the loudest of the last, he'd be insistent on working in time to see each other. He'd go the most mature route when it came to actually getting your attention, but when amongst the others his overall patience would run thin.
Japan: Self-assurance is something that has never been an issue for him. He wouldn't be the most successful when getting your attention in a group setting, since he's more reserved. If he was able to find you off by yourself, he'd feel confident going up and exchanging pleasentries.
Russia: He'd be slightly hopeful at first based on your interactions with him, but he'd ultimately lose steam as the others practically bulldozed their way to you. If he felt strongly enough towards you, and if you reignited his hope, he'd be ruthless. However, that'd be a big 'if'.
Canada: Unfortunately, his only real hope when competing for your love and attention would be if you were similar to him: the quiet and soft-spoken type. His confidence, when compared to the others', does not measure up in the slightest, leading to him discouraging himself.
Least
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bloodyselfshipping · 1 year
Note
I love your Hetalia main eight headcanons, how would they be with an British s/o? Cuz I personally believe that with France and America would be funny ^____^
(Hetalia Main 8 x Reader) British S/O!
(Gender Neutral) Headcanons ~ A/N it isnt as funny as you probably expected (i cant help but be sappy) but i hope u like it <3 ALSO two requests already?!?!?! im loisng my mind over here keep em comin
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This is also hysterical to him. Like, he’s always had so many issues with the British and now he’s in LOVE with a British person?! What reality is this?!
Because your native language is English like his, he’ll completely forget that the UK is not like the US.
“What do you mean you’ve never had Snickers salad?! Everyone has!”
“Hold on… what did you just say I need to get?... a “bog roll”? Wh- are you kidding me? You’re making that one up.”
Probably a little bitch about it not going to lie. He respects where you come from, but he’s probably gonna insist on things being more American than British.
Alfred has been to the UK many times, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t gonna be very whiney about it. Except when it comes to your family, who he LOVES. Seriously, he would be so great with your relatives.
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Obviously, as a British person himself, this is not out of the ordinary at all. Most likely his S/O would be British, I can’t see him having much of a thing for foreigners anymore.
But he is very happy that he doesn’t have to simplify how he talks, god forbid learn another language.
He appreciates having a S/O that he doesn’t have to explain anything about his country to. He can go on living his life the same way (which is so frustratingly important to him) and you’ll have no problem.
It’s always comforting to him knowing his S/O lives in his country, it removes so much pressure off his shoulders.
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Oh boy, oh lord, what is Arthur going to say! Having to put all of his constant British-specific insults aside because now his S/O is what he’s always hated!
“Those rostbif l'idiotes, they’re d- oh, my apologies. I- uh… that doesn’t include you, my love.”
He’s definitely gonna insist you learn French. He says it’s because he wants to distance you from Arthur, but really he just thinks your accent is so cute-
Francis knows a lot about British culture, so you probably won’t have to explain anything to him. But he’s definitely gonna try to immerse you in his own culture, no pressure of course.
It’s really a surprise to him how little your nationality bothers him. I guess love can always change a man’s heart <3
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Depending on the time period, Yao’s reaction would vary. Nowadays, he doesn’t really care that much. But if it was any earlier, he would be so ashamed of himself!
He’d try to teach you Mandarin, but that wouldn’t last long. His version of Mandarin is a mess of like 50 dead dialects, and he would get real annoyed when you mess it up, sorry /:
Yao has had to deal with foreigners so much nowadays, he doesn’t care much to learn about your country or teach you about his. He’ll assume you already know about his culture.
He doesn’t like traveling, but he’ll always make an exception for you and your family <3 Just… be aware he’s gonna try to get you to move to China constantly.
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Ivan would quite like this arrangement actually! He’s always had an admiration for the UK, plus now he has something to bother Arthur with-
He wouldn’t care much about the language thing (he might even try stopping you from learning Russian,) but if you make fun of his bad English he would take it so personally ):
He wants you to take him on tours around where you’ve lived in the UK!!! Tell him everything!!! No one usually wants him to visit their country, so he’s very excited to come home with you!
Fully embraces your multi-cultural little family unit!
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Frankly, I don’t think Feliciano would have much of a reaction. Him and Arthur are not close, but he’s never had any real animosity for the country. He loves foreigners, where exactly you’re from doesn’t make much difference!
Loves speaking to you in Italian! He thinks your confused and flushed face is just the cutest.
As much as he likes hearing about your country, he is way more excited to show you the sights and sounds of his own.
Gives you a lot of homemade cultural foods but forgets you’re British and makes them way too … seasoned.
You may be from across the continent, but you’ll always be his persona amata.
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Despite Ludwig’s general annoyance towards British politics, he actually quite likes that his S/O is British! He finds a lot to enjoy about the culture.
Will insist that you teach him about growing up in the UK. He just finds it fascinating!
German and English are relatively similar languages, so he’ll suggest you learn at least a little. But he’s not gonna push you on it, your accent is terrible anyway.
You guys probably live and eat very similarly, since Ludwig has adapted very quickly to globalization. Very convenient for you, very annoying for Gilbert.
Overall, this would be a great relationship. Ludwig would be very casual about you being British (cough cough, Alfred)
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Generally, Kiku finds most Europeans quite annoying to deal with, but he’ll always make an exception for you <3
Considering how Arthur reacted to Japanese, he’s not even gonna try to get you to learn. He’ll teach you if you ask nicely, but only then.
He’s not very into teaching you about Japan, more casually explains cultural things as they come up.
He would love to go back to the UK with you! He’s very touristy, and would love if you are too.
Kiku is always willing to set aside any bias or personal history aside for you <3
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atom-writings · 7 months
Note
Can I request the allies helping their S/O when their depression keeps them in bed for a few days, which isn't normal for them.
hetalia allies when their s/o is going through a depressive episode
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1.8k words ~ gender neutral scenarios
tw: theyre not always the best but they figure it out (:
a/n: hope this was ok. if u want just like, comfort, thats cool and i can do that too seperately (: but anon i totally get i got crippling depression too. were alll in this togeeethherrr
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America
Depressive episodes were nothing out of the usual for you. What was out of the usual though, was just how horribly this one was hitting you. But it seems like the person who it hurt the most, was Alfred.
Once you began spending the majority of your time in bed, he began to bother you incessantly. It'd be more annoying for you if it wasn't clear just how much Alfred was panicking.
Every day he returned from home to find you in your miserable state, he would question your sudden episode over and over again until one of you fell asleep. He offered to take you somewhere, to buy you everything, anything to get you back to normal. No matter how much you insisted that none of that would help, he continued.
That was until one day, upon his return from work, he didn't immediately come up to interrogate your lack of motivation. From your shared bed, you could vaguely hear him fumbling around downstairs. After a while, his footsteps finally echoed up the stairs.
Your door creaked open slowly, revealing Alfred awkwardly carrying bags of snacks as well as a TV. He rushed forward to throw everything on the bed before starting to hook up the TV in front of the bed.
“Alfred?”
“Yeah?“
”What are you doin'?“
”Making this room fun to be in,” He answered bluntly, but his tone was kind.
After a minute, he finished setting up the TV and crawled into bed with you. Before you could say anything, he pulled you flush against his side.
“Staying in here is no good for you, but at least there's ways to make it... less bad.” He told you softly.
You took a moment to respond, ”Can... can you stay in here with me?“
”I'll stay in here until you're ready to leave, K?“
England
As soon as your illness began to rear its ugly head, Arthur took notice. It's not like it hadn't happened before, after all. The unusual eating habits, the exhaustion, how less excited you would become over things you love, it's all typical. So he would help the way he usually did.
If you're too tired for work or school, he gets you out of it. If you're hungry, he makes whatever you want anytime. If you're slacking on chores, he makes up for it two-fold.
The entire time you spend gloomily sitting on your phone or watching TV, Arthur is running from place to place in a panic. It's clear why, he's just desperately trying to ”solve“ your sadness. After all, over his many periods of depression, he always works himself to the bone to get through them. He struggles to understand how you can just... sit there.
But of course, that's not how human depression tends to work. Seeing him so motivated did nothing but make you more insecure about your own sudden ”laziness.” Living in an incredibly clean house only helps for so long until it starts feeling weird.
The only place safe from his worried frenzy was the bedroom, where you lay nearly all day. It was quiet there, at least. Not frustrating like everything else. That was until Arthur interrupted your silence by joining you in bed with a huff.
“Love, you've been in here all day.”
You didn't respond, simply nodding and rolling to face away from him.
“What's wrong?”
Still, no response.
He grabbed your shoulder lightly, trying to pull you to face him.
“What is it?”
“You know what's wrong.”
He sighed, before laying down as well. His arms wrapped around your waist as he pulled you closer to him, his soft breath hitting the back of your neck as his heart beat against your back.
“I guess a better question would be... do you want to talk about it?”
You pause, ”Not really...“
”Well, I'll be here with you until you do.“
”No running around?“
He chuckles, ”No, I'll stay here. After all, you're strong... I imagine this won't last forever, right Love?“
France
Francis is a sensitive person, but most importantly he's an emotionally intelligent one. He notices as soon as your depression begins to get bad again, and he always tries to do little things to help. But... he knows that you're the one who's had to live in your head for years. The only reason he would go out of his way to help is if you asked him to.
Which you usually don't. It never seems to stay unbearable long enough for you to justify asking him, even though he's made clear he's always willing to do anything for you.
But this time is different, it feels as if your thoughts can't stop, no matter what you do. Even as you rest in bed, you only get more and more tired, more angry and miserable. Francis noticed this... but he wouldn't want to do anything you didn't want him to.
At least, that's how he thinks usually. But now, seeing his beloved sobbing for the 15th day in a row, he decided he had to do something.
Early in the morning, before the sun had fully risen, you were awoken by Francis's smiling face.
”Time to get up!“
”No-“
You were swiftly cut off by him grabbing your arms and pulling you upwards.
”I've set out clothes for you. We're going somewhere.“
You shook your head, ”W-Where? I'm tired-“
”It's gonna be fun! I'll buy you coffee on the way, don't worry.“
So up you were, regardless of your protests.
An hour-long car drive later, and you understood why he was so enthusiastic about going here. Before you stood the most stunning valley you had ever seen, surrounded by perfectly green trees and water so blue you could've sworn it was fake. But the breeze flowing through your hair said otherwise.
“While we walk to the beach, you can tell me all about what's wrong, okay?” He locked his hand around yours.
Sure, it didn't solve everything. But... it was better than the bedroom.
China
Yao doesn't really... understand what depression is. When you tell him it's a “mental illness” all he understands is “illness.” So the moment things start getting worse for you, he's recommending all the things he learned to make sick people better.
If it gets to the point of being bedridden, he acts like you're gonna die. Which is obviously not very... comforting. So after many times of you telling him to leave you alone, he's gotten used to popping in every couple of hours with tea, but that's it.
After all, you're usually back to your normal self pretty quickly. But this time, he can tell something's off; and he's not about to let you wither away.
So, one morning, you're awoken to a delicious breakfast already in your lap and Yao sitting in front of you, looking like a kid on Christmas.
“Wh- Yao? Why did you...”
“You haven't been eating enough, and I don't want you getting tired soon.”
You looked at him suspiciously, “Why?”
“We have plans.“
”Good plans or bad plans?“
”Good plans! What do you think of me?“
Once you finished eating breakfast, he dragged you out of bed. No matter how much you protested, his grip on your hand was strong. He brought you to the other side of the house, into his already set-up studio.
”What are we doing in here?“ You ask nervously.
”Getting you out of bed,“ He responds quickly, gesturing to the yoga mat set up next to his.
All you could was sigh and stand next to him, waiting for instruction.
”Do we really have to do this?“
He nods, spreading his legs to the side and reaching down with one hand. Looking up at you expectantly, he smiled.
”It keeps you spry,“ He switched sides, ”It keeps you healthy.“
”I'm really not in the mood,“
”Trust me.“
With a huff, you slowly worked your creaking body into the same pose he pulled.
”I can't stand to see you suffer in that room.“
”It's not fun on my end either.“
”I love you. I wish you would tell me how to help.”
You groan as the next pose he demonstrated stretched you a little bit more than what was comfortable.
“You can't 'help.' Just gotta wait it out.“
He took a moment to respond, “Well, I suggest you wait it out in ways that get your mind off everything. Like this.”
“It's helping the tiniest bit, I guess...”
He chuckled, “We will keep working at it until you feel better. No matter how long it takes.”
Russia
When your depression gets bad, it seems to be obvious to everyone... except Ivan. Despite you bringing it up to him, he either doesn't know what to do... or he doesn't care. The possibility of the latter doing nothing to make you feel any better.
Even as you spend all day laying in bed, crying constantly, he doesn't seem to notice. He just acts like you aren't... suffering. That stings, a lot more than anything else creating this depressive episode.
But after a week of this unending gloominess, you get a strange text from Ivan.
“Come downstairs.”
Weird and annoying... but more importantly ominous. It takes you only a second to throw on a hoodie and rush downstairs. You can't hear his usual humming, and the house seems completely still as you search for him. But when you look out the back window, you see him.
As you enter the backyard, you fully see what he was doing.
In the middle of the yard, he set up a picnic. Surrounding him is a mountain of bright flowers, and tens of little plates bearing your favourite sweets lay on the light blanket.
“Come sit, darling.”
You would be foolish of you to not oblige. Once you sat down next to him, he reached out to stroke your cheek lovingly.
”What is torturing you so horribly?“
You took a deep breath, “Where to start?”
“Wherever you want,” he clucks his tongue sympathetically, resting his hand on your thigh.
“Y-You know... I thought you didn't care. You've been so... normal...”
Ivan looks awkward, averting his gaze, “I didn't want to make it worse. You're so strong, I knew you could get through it on your own. I'm sorry.”
“I can.... but I don't want to...”
He leans forward, kissing your forehead.
”I promise, now, you will never deal with anything alone.“
”You're sure it won't be too much?“
”Never. Never too much.“
hey there. its gonna get better. its gonna be different. but its gonna get better. there are hundreds of people youre gonna meet, and hundreds of places youre gonna go, and its gonna be amazing. one day youll wake up and realize everything is alright. because youre gonna be ok.
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lilac-amethyst-skies · 11 months
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Being in a relationship with England would include...
Face caressing
Forehead kisses
Comfortable silence matched with intellectual conversation
Considerate gestures
Arthur opening the door for you
Him giving you his coat when it’s much too cold outside
Sharing an umbrella
Drinking tea together (and him still loving you, even if he finds that you don’t like tea)
Arthur giving you his hand to help you stand
You looking at the historical pieces that Arthur keeps in his home
One being that of the beloved sword that accompanied him during his time sailing the seven seas (He then proceeds to tell you stories, some of which you can hardly believe!)
You scolding him about his self-deprecating humor
Him showing off his most impressive magic spells
Listening to him grumble and gripe about people
You attempting to show him that things really aren’t that bad
Rainy, but comfortable days spent inside
Reading books together
Intimate slow dancing with one another, even if there isn’t any music playing in the room
You doing the cooking
Arthur teaching you how to cross-stitch
Him getting rather red and flustered when you share your first kiss, despite his confident front
You doubling over in laughter at his sharp-tongued wit that most people don’t seem to understand
You being so thankful of how well Arthur handles pressure and difficult situations
You seeing how much Arthur truly cares about the people around him, even if he doesn’t express it very well (This also includes you watching in amusement at how much he and France bicker because you know that they would be absolutely devastated if anything were to happen to the other…)
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siren-serenity · 9 months
Text
the ways i say 'i love you' 🌈
characters: arthur kirkland (england), gn!reader warnings: fluff, romance a/n: - arthur kirkland asdfghjklasdfghjsfgoandv *cue siren fainting* - he is my babygirl fr - i think this just turned out into a 'how to brew tea' 101 session lmao - feedback is appreciated!
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reading a book together
the raindrops platter against the window, creating a racket of noise but it was ignored inside the warm household. a duo sat side by side on the old couch, books in hand and their eyes fixated on the tale the words weaved together beautifully. it was like they were transported into a whole different dimension where dragons and magicians roamed free and the limit is limitless. on the small nightstand, a lit candle flickered. the sweet aroma of a forest wafted in the air, further adding to the illusion and you breathed it in. a smile grew on your lips. "good book, love?" arthur murmured, placing a bookmark on his page before giving you his full attention. his emerald eyes read your sypnosis quickly as you nodded. "it's well-written and the plot is unique," you explained. you stood up, cracking your stiff joints and groaning at the relief you felt. "want to lean on me instead?" arthur moved aside the pillow and you smiled gently. you sat back down again, this time leaning your head on his shoulders and your arm wrapped around his. this way, you could smell arthur's scent alongside the forest-scented candle; his cologne was different this time. it was more him, the scent of roses and the seaside somehow suited him. together, you both cracked your books open and continued reading in peace, ignoring the ferocious winds and the roaring thunder beyond the little bubble of peace.
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tea time together
there is a soft alluring scent coming from the kitchen. it disrupts your work zone and invites you to investigate the source of it. as you exit your office and turn left, you spy arthur's golden hair in the midst of the grey monotones of the kitchen and smile. "sweetheart?" you call out, watching as arthur spins around with teabags of all shades in his arms. you chuckle and walk forth, pressing a small, featherlight kiss on his cheek before wrapping an arm around his waist. "what are you doing?" "just making tea, love," he returns the kiss to your cheek; his own cheeks were the shade of bright red as he quickly turns back to decide. "i just can't decide what to brew today..." you hum, using your other arm to hug him around the waist and bury your face in the crook of your collarbone. "teach me about tea?" "well, there's a lot to know about tea," arthur began. his emerald eyes sparkled as he rambled and that was what you loved most about him. how passionate he could get when he is talking about the things he loves most. "the most important thing to note is every tea has specific optimum temperatures to be soaked in. for example," arthur held up a packet of green tea. you noticed how it matched his eyes and quickly shook your head to clear your mind of thoughts. arthur gave you a raised eyebrow before continuing. "green tea doesn't actually need to be boiled at water's boiling temperature. somewhere around 70 to 80 celsius will do the trick. and only soak it for 2 to 3 minutes. any more and the tea will be too infused with green tea." you leaned in, taking a small inhale of the green tea before smiling. "smells nice, love. can we try this?" arthur nodded while grinning. his hands automatically began to grab whatever he needed as he spoke to you. "i had these imported thanks to kiku! the green tea from his place is simply divine; i don't know how i survived decades- i mean so long without it!"
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sunsets
behind arthur's little cottage, there was a cliff overlooking the entirity of the ocean. the grandness of the view always never failed to take your breath away, just like right now. you sat down on the picnic blanket and simply appreciated the view of the majestic sapphire waves and the glorious golden sunset above you. "darling?" arthur's frantic voice interrupted you but you turned around to wave. he let out a huge sigh before scrambling down the stone stepways and briskly made his way to you. "i was looking all over for you! you made me so worried!" his hair was frazzled and messy, unlike his normally gelled back appearance. gold strands fell onto his face and a sweaty sheen showed proof of his arduous running around to find you. you pat the space next to you, beckoning him to join you and he relented. arthur leaned into your embrace, nuzzling his face into the crook of your collarbone and your hand went up to gently brush his golden hair. his eyelids fluttered at the feeling and a light blush dusted his face. "this feels nice," he murmured lowly and you hummed in agreement. together, you both faced the sunset, where the skyline met the horizon of the endless sea in a beautiful kiss.
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Note
It’s Asda, Arthur crushing on a cashier girl at Asda 🤠
england x reader II trips to asda
sorry it took me forever, blame it on my miserable life
hope you love it :)
"I've been spending more than my salary on sweets for you all. Can't you use your own money for once?" Arthur asked with his jacket on in front of the living room door.
"I spent it all on buying toilet rolls this month," Connor replied defensively.
"Yeah, because you're too lazy to drive an extra 5 minutes to a cheaper store. You know we can't afford the nearest store as they overprice everything," Arthur retorted.
"You're the one talking, Alistair spends his salary on alcohol and fizzy drinks, which you also consume regularly," Connor countered.
"I agree," pointed out Alistair.
"Don't even start-"
"If you're going to be so annoying over this trip to the market, I'll ask Dylan-"
"No, I'll go because if I let one of you actually go shopping, we'd be dead one week after we'd get our salary," Arthur scolded with his hands in his jacket pockets as he handled the silver keys.
"Where are the grocery bags?" Arthur turned back to his two brothers in the room, seemingly annoyed already. They just shrugged, making Arthur walk quickly to the kitchen, looking around at the mess they hadn't cleaned up this morning. He fumbled through the cabinets and the trash, looking for the bags.
Alistair shouted randomly from the living room: "They're in the car. Dylan brought them here last time." Earning an annoyed sigh from the blonde in the kitchen, almost stomping to the door.
Arthur walked to the car, opened the boot, checking around for any grocery bags. He fumbled again with his hands quickly, only to find beach toys, shoes, and an empty can. The blonde frowned, closing the boot door and rushing to the back seat door handle, only to find every missing bag of the house messily in the back seat. Arthur closed the door and rushed to the driver's seat before turning on the engine. The car felt abnormally warm, and the grimace on his face reflected his disgust over the warm air condensed in the engine for who knows how long.
Droplets of water appeared over the windscreen as he put his seatbelt on, thinking of which store he could go to buy Connor's sweets.
Exactly 10 minutes later, Arthur reached the Asda store, parked, took one of the bags in the backseat in his hand, and entered the store with a sigh. The temperature of this early spring and the rain added to the discomfort he already felt, but quickly he took in the air inside the store.
He wasn't particularly comfortable with the store itself as this empty cold feeling went under his jacket, also making his exposed hands almost numb, but the store still had this familiar vibe to it.
It was familiar to him only; his brothers kept complaining whenever Arthur brought them to Asda, most of them choosing to stay in the car, often leading to fights. Arthur grimaced at the thought of being stuck in the car with his brothers, making him feel sick to his stomach.
He started feeling itchy, overwhelmed, sweating, and feeling like vomiting whenever he was stuck inside the car with what he called his siblings. Brushing the thought away when the cold air from the dairy section hit his face, Arthur noticed the aisle he was standing in.
"Did they change the aisles? I might have walked too much," he thought.
Arthur walked through the seasonal aisle, checking if he could find anything interesting for himself, but he couldn't find anything interesting there, so he quickly moved to where chocolates and candies were usually placed. Hand still clutching the damaged bag, the blonde took his brother's favorite, chocolate-covered pretzels. He looked around the main aisle, thinking i might have walked too much.
Arthur walked through the seasonal aisle, checking if he could find anything interesting for himself. However, he couldn't find anything of interest there, so he quickly moved to where chocolates and candies were usually placed. His hand still clutching the damaged bag, the blonde took his brother's favorite, chocolate-covered pretzels. He looked around the main aisle, searching for the crisps his brother had requested.
He instinctively went to the snack section, looking around for the famous Tayto's. From the corner of his eye, he caught a silhouette walking back to the checkout after checking the price of a specific item. One of the colleague's was patiently waiting at the checkout, handling a customer who was impatiently waiting for the other colleague to come back.
Arthur ignored the person's presence for now as his mind was busy searching for the Tayto's. He took a few steps closer to the main aisle and tilted his head back to check the aisle's name, making sure he was in the right place. "Who knows, I might've gone crazy so I can't read anymore," he thought.
From the corner of his eye, he saw a kid shouting to his mom excitedly about Tayto's, pulling his mom's arm closer to the aisle behind. "There they are, I can go back home after that," he thought.
Arthur took two of the biggest bags he could grab and walked back through the snack aisle to the checkout. On his way there, he heard a voice greeting him.
"Hey, how are you doing today?" the person said.
Arthur turned around to meet their face. "Oh hi, sorry, I didn't see you walking past. How have you been?" he replied, fumbling with his arms as the many snacks he took were ridiculously voluminous.
"Great, buying snacks for them as usual?" the person asked, chuckling as the Tayto's crisps bags were bigger than both of their heads and were close to falling off Arthur's arms.
"Yes, again," Arthur let out a bit annoyingly, though he wouldn't complain about seeing the person every time and being able to greet them.
"Well, I'll be going... they're probably waiting for me right now," he said, nudging towards the checkout and smiling awkwardly at the person.
The person nodded and smiled, "Yes, of course. My colleague will take care of you there," they said, pointing to checkout number 6.
Arthur waved slightly at them with a smile before turning back to his main route. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts, but he just couldn't get them out of his mind for the next few minutes as he stood waiting in line.
Weeks passed, and Arthur would come at least twice a week to Asda. Every time, he would buy the same products over and over again. The person would kindly greet him when he reached the checkout and have a small chat with him.
Arthur knew exactly what the person's schedule looked like, but he was not making trips to Asda on purpose. The person knew that the Englishman had a busy schedule, but they didn't expect him to come to the store every week at the same time - Wednesday mornings but abnormally early and Friday evenings.
When they randomly asked Arthur about those weekly trips to Asda, he only shrugged and mumbled something about buying snacks and drinks for his brothers. The person had a rough idea of who he lived with, but they never got to see them physically. In fact, they always chose to stay in the car or would rather die than come with Arthur to Asda.
Weeks passed, and Arthur began to enjoy his trips to Asda, not just for the extra snacks he could get for his brothers but also for the time he could spend with you. Late Friday evenings and early Wednesday mornings in the store were quiet, allowing for longer conversations with the blonde. He always made sure not to distract you from work, but still managed to chat a little bit longer each time.
One Wednesday morning, when he heard that you had forgotten your lunch at home, Arthur immediately offered to buy you lunch at the nearest restaurant. He insisted, saying that you deserved a treat after a rough week.
Every Wednesday, you would have lunch with Arthur at the same restaurant, and he would always offer to pay. If you refused, he would insist, saying it was his gentleman's duty to pay for your food.
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milaisreading · 5 months
Text
🌱🩷: So, I had this one sitting in my drafts for a few weeks now. Tbh, this is my first time attempting to write Hetalia x reader content. Hope you enjoy it. And yes, I made Yn a Nordic state, bcs why not. We all love some chaos.
(C/n)- Country name
Warnings: Reader uses she/her. No warnings, really. Requests for Hetalia stories are open
🌍Hetalia belongs to Hidekaz Himaruya🌍
"Why me?! You know I hate almost everyone." The girl asked her long time friend and ally, Finland, over the phone. The blonde laughed over the phone, which caused the other country to growl a little.
"Sorry, but you know how these meetings go. Every year one of us Nordics have to join these things. This year it's your turn, (C/n)." The said country cringed as Finland used her country name. He only used it on her when the argument was over or she made him mad.
"I know... Let's hope this ends well." She sighed, a little terrified of the meeting.
'8 of the strongest World powers will be with me in that meeting room... let's hope I won't be forced to sit between Russia and America again.' She gulped, finishing her call with Finland.
"It doesn't help that all of them hate me, too."
(Y/n) mumbled to herself and went to get ready.
"France, what's with those flowers?" China questioned, his eyes narrowing at the blonde. This caused Russia and America, who for once weren't arguing, to look at the blonde as well.
"Nothing, old friend~ you know I love roses the most." France smiles nonchalantly.
"Really? Then what's with that paper in the bouquet?" Germany questioned.
"What paper? Oh this?! It's just the bill!" France laughed awkwardly. He tried to take the pink paper, but America beat him to it and took it instead. France frowned nervously as Japan made a observation too.
"And you smell odd today... Did you use some cologne?" The Japanese asked.
"That'-"
"And why did you insist for our Nordic guest to sit so close to you? I thought you found Sweden scary, frog." England added in.
"What are you talking about, old friend? Sweden is a nice guy, I want to get close to him."
Russia and Germany sent him looks of disbelief, but before either could say anything, America let out a yell.
"France, dude?! You really are so uncool! How could you do this to me?"
"What?" England blinked, looking between the duo.
"What are you talking about?" France asked innocently, but America shoved the paper into his face.
"To my beloved (Y/n)?! Really?! And you are so casual to use my girl's human name, too!"
America glared at the French nation. France, angered by his last sentence got up and glared right back at America.
"Your girl? My beloved (Y/n) would never go for a loud mouth like you."
"(Y/n)? Do you guys mean (C/n)-san?" Japan suddenly interrupted them, causing the rest to realize what is going on.
"Wait, why did you buy flowers for her? And don't claim her so casually, pigs." China frowned, getting a little jealous. Russia, who was smiling the whole time looked at the duo, too.
"China is right. The little sunflower is too cute and delicate to be claimed by dirty men like you. So stay away."
France and America shuddered for a moment and the ominous aura surrounding Russia. And before another fight could start, Germany, England, and Japan spoke up. The trio was jealous and pissed as well by their comments, but they couldn't cause a fight now.
"Calm it down, all of you." Germany commanded.
"You all are acting like immature kids." England frowned.
"Let's all just take a deep breath for a moment." Japan suggested. The group slowly nodded their heads and one by one sat down. After a few minutes China spoke up, looking menacingly at France.
"But seriously, what's with those flowers? You are not planning to give it to Sweden so that he can hand them to (C/n)?" The oldest nation raised his eyebrow as France gulped and laughed nervously.
"Why not? Her and Sweden are close friends."
"Cut the crap. What's this all about?"
"Yeah, you have been acting off ever since you sent that invitation to Sweden." Now it was England and Japan's turn to look at him in confusion.
"I might... might not have invited Sweden this year... hahaha."
Now, France was usually a smug and calm person, but he knew this revelation would make room for a hellfire not even he wanted.
"What do you mean by that?" Germany narrowed his eyes.
"Acho!" (Y/n) let out a small sneeze as she walked down the streets of Paris, utterly confused as to where she was.
"I got lost...didn't I?" (Y/n) muttered to herself, getting her phone out to check her location.
'This is bad! If I am late, Germany will be pissed at me! And if he is pissed, he might berate me! Oh, I am so dead.' The nation gulped as she looked at her watch.
"Bella! I didn't expect to see you here!"
The girl jumped in surprise as she heard a familiar voice and quickly turned around.
"Italy?! What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be at the meeting by now? You are always there early with Germany and Japan." The Nordic nation commented, sighing in relief that she wasn't the only one late.
"Oh~ I wanted to get some food before going. Here, take some~" The Italian said happily, handing her a few pastries he bought.
"Ah? You shouldn't give me these." The girl blushed, surprised by his kind gesture.
'But... Italy has always been like this to everyone.' She argued herself as Italy shook his head.
"I want you to have it. I tried some of the sweets in the bakeries already, so I am full. Besides..." Italy grew shy a little, but still kept his usual closed-eyes smile.
"I bought them for you. I remember you told me and China once how you don't eat prior to our meetings."
"Y-you remembered that? That conversation was years ago." (Y/n) blushed a little in embarrassment, but was touched by his gesture.
"It was important enough to remember!" Italy argued.
'He is such a flirt... well, he is a country of passion and romance, if I recall correctly.' The girl smiled gently and nodded her head.
"Thank you, Italy. It's really kind of you. But you came all the way here to buy me food?"
"France said the best bakeries are here. But why are you here? Yesterday I saw that you would be in our meeting too, this place is pretty far away from there."
"I... I kinda got lost." The girl said, genuinely sounding embarrassed. Italy blushed at her cute behavior and nodded his head. Without any warning, the European country took her free hand and started dragging her to a nearby parking spot.
"I-Italy, don't grab people like that!" The other country scolded him, but knew it was futile against him.
"Bella, don't worry. I will drive us there. I did come with a car, after all."
The words caused (Y/n) to sigh in relief for a moment as she thanked Italy for his help. But, that relief soon turned into panic as the words finally sunk in.
'Italy... will drive me?' She gulped as the approached the sports car.
'I should have prepared a will.'
Italy, oblivious to her panic, held himself back from skiping and humming in happiness. He finally gets to spend time with his beloved (Y/n) without anyone interrupting him.
"We will be there in no time!" The Italian said enthusiastically.
"Y-yay..."
'Is this my karma because I ate Iceland's pudding last week?'
"So... you invited (C/n) and not Sweden and decided not to tell us, right? Did I get that right?" Although Germany looked and sounded calm, France could tell the blonde was far from it.
"Surprise." The French nation laughed, pissing the rest off even more.
"You backstabbing frog! Why wouldn't you tell us this sooner?!" England yelled as America held him back from jumping the country.
"Yeah, what even was your plan here? Did you want to impress her or something?" The youngest country asked.
"My dear friend, I don't need to try that hard. (C/n) can tell I am a better pick without me even trying much."
"What do you mean by that?" Japan asked the French country.
"Women love a man who is honest with his emotions, romantic, and most importantly, can cook." The final being more a jab on England than anything.
"Hold up! That would include me, too! I am always honest with her!" America yelled in protest, earning disapproving looks from Russia and China.
"You yell, America. That doesn't mean you are honest. Besides, she always said she likes my cooking more." China laughed as he got a nasty look from Japan.
"Well, in that case she must like me more. She always compliments my cuisine and likes listening to my interests-"
"Same with me! What now?!" The two Asian countries glared daggers at each other while Russia was smiling menacingly at them.
"I think I would be a better fit for the sunflower. After all, we both grew up in the cold and I can also protect her better-"
"Russia, you scare her. You are not a better fit." Germany sent a side-glare at the platinum blonde.
"Same for you, old friend."
The once calm room turned into a screaming match between the nations. Neither noticing Italy and (C/n) walk in, looking at them in astonishment.
"Ve~ let's skip out on the meeting and go get food instead."
"I-" She looked at the Italian man and then at the rest, a feeling of defeat taking over her body.
'Why did I agree to this? I knew I should have stayed in self-isolation! Denmark will pay for it!'
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