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Literature Text
You slowly cracked your eyes open as the morning sunlight flooded the room, and the slow breathing of your boyfriend, Lukas, who was still asleep. You glanced over to him and saw his peaceful, sleeping face. Usually he has his impenetrable poker face on, but while he slept you could only see pure bliss on his face. His mouth was slightly curled into a tiny smile, and his hair was in a mess without his hairpin. Yet, the way it fell around his cheeks looked far too adorable, and accompanied with his sweet personality.. you felt like the luckiest girl in the world.
Clenching his nightshirt, you snuggled deeper into his chest, taking in the sweet aroma of his cologne, and feeling the comforting, embracing warmth. He shifted a bit, and you held your breath, fearing he would be awoken from his slumber. Yet slowly but surely, he relaxed again, and you could hear the steady thump of his heart, and it made you feel safe and secure. Under piles of blankets and being snuggled in your boyfriend's chest, the cold cross-breeze was a thing of the past.
A smile graced your lips as you thought back to when the two of you met. You could clearly remember that day, which could arguably be the best day of your life, and whenever you were depressed, thinking back to it always gave you a warm fuzzy feeling that nothing could else could conjure.
You walked in the park, with a small breeze and the quaint sunshine, it was a perfect day to relax and unwind. Sitting on a bright yellow park bench, you pulled your sketchbook out and a chewed-up pencil. It immediately went to your mouth, as you chewed the tasteless wood; it was something you always did when looking for what to draw. The clouds? No, they weren't as prominent today. The trees? No, a bit too complicated and cliche, but as you looked in the distance, there you saw him.
Back then, you had only seen him in your high school and college years, he was a foreign trade student from Norway, from the capital Oslo, you recalled. It's been five years, and frankly, you were a bit shocked to see him. You figured he would have left for Norway when school was done. Yet, here he was, in (Your country), still living in (your hometown).
After examining him from afar, you could still recognize him, but he had changed so much. He was much taller, and just looked more mature. And, of course, that strange, detached, floating curl remained. You had always wanted to ask him about it, but never had the courage to.
He walked down the path with a small, white dog. It had no leash, and it seemed to retain a calm aura just like Lukas had. As something clicked in your mind, you snapped your head down and began franticly sketching his profile. You looked up every once in awhile to refresh your memory, and soon enough, he sat down at another park bench with his back to you. 'Dammit!' You mentally cursed. Sure, you had drawn everything in, but you wanted to match every detail, and make it look as lifelike as possible. 'Maybe if I could just walk by him.. and glance back.. just once..' You stood up to initiate your plan.
You walked though the grass with your head down, trying to avert all attention away from you. 'Half way there.. c'mon..' you internally encouraged yourself.
You walked passed him, but didn't have the courage to turn back.
Sure, he wasn't one for small talk, but what if he decides to spark a conversation? What would you say to him? You were never shy around other guys, but Lukas was different. And you could never quite figure out why..
"Excuse me, did you drop this?" And apparently, he still had the same monotone voice that you had always loved.
You prayed that it wasn't the drawing. Turning around, you looked at the loose paper in horror. 'How did it fall out?!'
He seemed to give a small, almost unnoticeable smile, but then he looked up, and his poker face returned, but in his eyes, you could hint a bit of surprise.. even.. joy?
"(Name).."
Yes, quite an eventful day, truly.
You felt the Norwegian shift and heard a small yawn. You looked up to him and smiled. "Good morning, Lukas."
His tired eyes blinked a bit before looking down at you. "God morgen." You sat up in the bed, and he followed suit.
"So, is pancakes alright with you?" You asked as you got out of bed and slipped your fluffy slippers on.
"Yes, that's fine. Takk, (Name)." He replied, still a bit groggy from his deep sleep.
"Alright, I'll go make some, you can come down in about ten minutes, ok?"
Lukas nodded and watched you trot out the door. You were always cheery in the morning, and he could never understand why.. he wasn't much of a morning person himself.
He looked around the room. It was something he always did this, every morning, just to see if everything is in place. He slowly stood up and walked over to a large shelf, packed with books with worn spines, the tops were reduced to nearly nothing and the colors had faded.
He skimmed a finger over an old, leather-bound book and pulled it out. He opened its cover, filled with strange symbols and complex patterns; his spell book. He knows his way around this book, he speaks the ancient, dead, forgotten language. To use it.. was just easy to him. He knew about other realms that came with this book, too. How if you entered, there was no going back. Sometimes, he thought about jumping into one of those strange, forgotten worlds. He had always thought about you, since high school. Yet he waited. Hoping that you would one day come to him. And the day you did, although his poker face gave him a calm and unreadable facade, in the inside he could barley contain his happiness.
Yet, he still had always feared you would find out about this, about his secret.
He placed the book back, tucking it in neatly, so that it would just look like any other book. He took a few steps back, 'yes, it can't be seen, it blends in, its anonymous,' he assured himself.
He turned on his heels to head downstairs, already smelling the sweet pancake batter flutter through the air and swarm his nose. He looked back, wondering if the spell would ever wear off.
He chuckled. 'Well, if you call true love a spell..'
Clenching his nightshirt, you snuggled deeper into his chest, taking in the sweet aroma of his cologne, and feeling the comforting, embracing warmth. He shifted a bit, and you held your breath, fearing he would be awoken from his slumber. Yet slowly but surely, he relaxed again, and you could hear the steady thump of his heart, and it made you feel safe and secure. Under piles of blankets and being snuggled in your boyfriend's chest, the cold cross-breeze was a thing of the past.
A smile graced your lips as you thought back to when the two of you met. You could clearly remember that day, which could arguably be the best day of your life, and whenever you were depressed, thinking back to it always gave you a warm fuzzy feeling that nothing could else could conjure.
You walked in the park, with a small breeze and the quaint sunshine, it was a perfect day to relax and unwind. Sitting on a bright yellow park bench, you pulled your sketchbook out and a chewed-up pencil. It immediately went to your mouth, as you chewed the tasteless wood; it was something you always did when looking for what to draw. The clouds? No, they weren't as prominent today. The trees? No, a bit too complicated and cliche, but as you looked in the distance, there you saw him.
Back then, you had only seen him in your high school and college years, he was a foreign trade student from Norway, from the capital Oslo, you recalled. It's been five years, and frankly, you were a bit shocked to see him. You figured he would have left for Norway when school was done. Yet, here he was, in (Your country), still living in (your hometown).
After examining him from afar, you could still recognize him, but he had changed so much. He was much taller, and just looked more mature. And, of course, that strange, detached, floating curl remained. You had always wanted to ask him about it, but never had the courage to.
He walked down the path with a small, white dog. It had no leash, and it seemed to retain a calm aura just like Lukas had. As something clicked in your mind, you snapped your head down and began franticly sketching his profile. You looked up every once in awhile to refresh your memory, and soon enough, he sat down at another park bench with his back to you. 'Dammit!' You mentally cursed. Sure, you had drawn everything in, but you wanted to match every detail, and make it look as lifelike as possible. 'Maybe if I could just walk by him.. and glance back.. just once..' You stood up to initiate your plan.
You walked though the grass with your head down, trying to avert all attention away from you. 'Half way there.. c'mon..' you internally encouraged yourself.
You walked passed him, but didn't have the courage to turn back.
Sure, he wasn't one for small talk, but what if he decides to spark a conversation? What would you say to him? You were never shy around other guys, but Lukas was different. And you could never quite figure out why..
"Excuse me, did you drop this?" And apparently, he still had the same monotone voice that you had always loved.
You prayed that it wasn't the drawing. Turning around, you looked at the loose paper in horror. 'How did it fall out?!'
He seemed to give a small, almost unnoticeable smile, but then he looked up, and his poker face returned, but in his eyes, you could hint a bit of surprise.. even.. joy?
"(Name).."
Yes, quite an eventful day, truly.
You felt the Norwegian shift and heard a small yawn. You looked up to him and smiled. "Good morning, Lukas."
His tired eyes blinked a bit before looking down at you. "God morgen." You sat up in the bed, and he followed suit.
"So, is pancakes alright with you?" You asked as you got out of bed and slipped your fluffy slippers on.
"Yes, that's fine. Takk, (Name)." He replied, still a bit groggy from his deep sleep.
"Alright, I'll go make some, you can come down in about ten minutes, ok?"
Lukas nodded and watched you trot out the door. You were always cheery in the morning, and he could never understand why.. he wasn't much of a morning person himself.
He looked around the room. It was something he always did this, every morning, just to see if everything is in place. He slowly stood up and walked over to a large shelf, packed with books with worn spines, the tops were reduced to nearly nothing and the colors had faded.
He skimmed a finger over an old, leather-bound book and pulled it out. He opened its cover, filled with strange symbols and complex patterns; his spell book. He knows his way around this book, he speaks the ancient, dead, forgotten language. To use it.. was just easy to him. He knew about other realms that came with this book, too. How if you entered, there was no going back. Sometimes, he thought about jumping into one of those strange, forgotten worlds. He had always thought about you, since high school. Yet he waited. Hoping that you would one day come to him. And the day you did, although his poker face gave him a calm and unreadable facade, in the inside he could barley contain his happiness.
Yet, he still had always feared you would find out about this, about his secret.
He placed the book back, tucking it in neatly, so that it would just look like any other book. He took a few steps back, 'yes, it can't be seen, it blends in, its anonymous,' he assured himself.
He turned on his heels to head downstairs, already smelling the sweet pancake batter flutter through the air and swarm his nose. He looked back, wondering if the spell would ever wear off.
He chuckled. 'Well, if you call true love a spell..'
Literature
~Good Morning~ Nordics x Reader
Nordics - Emil, Lukas, Matthias, Berwald, Tino
Screaming, obnoxious laughing, choking sounds, and the sound of someone collapsing onto the floorboards was not ___'s ideal wake up call. Apparently, Alfred's idea of "keeping ___ safe from any possible perverts" was to send up his best bud, Matthias. Which meant all the other Nordic personifications would follow to keep him in key. Now, why was she woken up from screaming and laughing? Well, for some reason, Matthias was still half-drunk (not surprising, seeing he was still drinking when he had come up). He saw a small spider and lost his shit over it.
___ glared up at the ceiling, s
Literature
Attention (Norway x Reader)
Attention (Norway x Reader)
You were happily sat on the Nordics large sofa with Mathias, the overly happy Dane with a loud boisterous voice and a sharp look of determination in his eye. Both of you held a controller tight within your hands and stared at the TV intently, and both of you focusing on your individual characters as they zoomed around the virtual race track.
You were pulling ahead of the Danish man- much to his dismay, which lead him to playfully nudging your shoulder every so often with his large calloused hands in a sly attempt to make you spin off the track. In response you tried holding his hand away and giggled as you contin
Literature
Norway x Drunk!Reader
"Hey (y/n)! Have I ever seen you get drunk?"
"Nope, and you never will," you replied, turning the page of your fictional book.
"Well I've pretty much seen everyone I know, drunk, except you. I mean, even Norge has gotten drunk before!" Denmark exclaimed before being strangled by his tie by Norway.
Once he was done, he picked a book from the shelf and sat on the opposite couch of you.
"Well, I don't drink. And I never will," you assured Denmark.
"Well–"
You quickly cut Denmark off with a glare.
"...Fine."
You smirked and went back to reading. Well, more like glancing over the top of your book to look at Norway. The concentrated l
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uhm, ok.
lel.
i saw a really cute quote a long time ago, and it always stuck with me, so I wrote this!
BUT, IS READER-CHAN UNDER A SPELL OR NOT? OOoooOooOOoolooooOOOOooooOOollll
C:
lel.
i saw a really cute quote a long time ago, and it always stuck with me, so I wrote this!
BUT, IS READER-CHAN UNDER A SPELL OR NOT? OOoooOooOOoolooooOOOOooooOOollll
C:
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