Re: Blue Lips 34
anonymous
March 15 2011, 05:54:57 UTC
Oh haha. I was hoping to see an update for this today and so imagine my pleasant surprise when I checked the fills page.
Oh author-anon, you have no idea how much I love this fill. There's just something so warm and quaint with the way you write Ivan's and Alfred's interaction with one another.
Blue Lips 35
anonymous
April 11 2011, 22:13:23 UTC
Russia looked to the doorway of the living room when he heard a loud knock, momentarily taken out of his work on his laptop. He looked back to the computer screen after a minute though, assuming it was Matthew and Alfred messing around. Canada had come late, blaming the GPS that had been programmed in Russian. Alfred had brightened up at the mere sight of his brother, sitting up higher on the couch and giving him a playful punch for being late. Once Canada and America had settled into a happy conversation, Russia had gone to his kitchen in order to give them some space. After all, his home was small and anyone together for a period of time would be likely to snap at each other- it was good that Matthew was here to bring a bit of variety.
Russia glanced down to his glass, cold vodka already half gone. For a moment, he thought of refilling it and then decided to wait until later before bed. With a small stretch to ease the tension out of his shoulder, he glanced over at the clock near the window, hanging above the little yellow
( ... )
Blue Lips 36
anonymous
April 11 2011, 22:22:54 UTC
“Nyet.” Russia began walking further into his home while the young girl stayed close by, fixing her doll’s dress as she continued to chatter. He finally saw the two other nations; Canada sitting on the floor while Alfred animatedly retold a story with his hands, still lying out on the couch. “Alfred, Matthew,” he began in English and both men fell silent while looking up at Russia. “This is Anna from next door.” He switched back to Russia as the girl peered over the edge of the couch. “Anechka, these are my friends, Matthew and Alfred.”
She waved quickly and then ran around, jumping up to the small spot where Alfred’s feet were. Canada shot his hands out to stop her, but America just sat back more having anticipated the event. Russia watched in concern at seeing the flinch when she sat down, but other than that America seemed to be fine.
Canada sighed, watching the girl for a moment over the rims of his glasses, making sure she wasn’t hurting Alfred, and returned to talking to his brother. Anna looked at Alfred, pausing in her
( ... )
Blue Lips 37
anonymous
April 11 2011, 22:29:00 UTC
“Tell the story! Pleeeeeaaaaase Mr. Ivan!” She looked so hopeful that he couldn’t say no. Russia rubbed his brow, closing his violet eyes for a minute before giving America a look as if to say, ‘why am I doing this?’
Sensing his hesitation, Anya whined quietly, “Please?”
Russia stood up and walked over to the table, pulling the green book closer to him. “How about I finish the story from last time?”
“Story time!” Both Anna and Alfred called, one in Russian and the other in English. Canada looked startled and glanced between America and Russia as if to glean more information. America pulled the covers up closer, while Canada rolled his eyes, but leaned against the couch and rested his head near America’s arm. Anna bounced a little as she snuggled into the pillows of the couch and held the doll close to her chest.
Russia flipped through the book, looking at the assortment of tales before finally finding one that sounded tame enough to read to Anna. “Once a long time ago,” he started and began to read the text, watching every few
( ... )
Re: Blue Lips 37
anonymous
April 11 2011, 22:53:41 UTC
I love this so much, you have no idea :D Loved the interaction between the little girl and the three nations. And the comments about England putting more gruesome details into the stories, LOL. I can totally see him doing that.
As for the relationship between Russia and america, I can see them slowly growing more comfortable around each other. Can't wait to see where you take them next, anon!
Re: Blue Lips 37
anonymous
April 15 2011, 14:57:58 UTC
So much love for this fill! Each update makes me nearly bounce with glee!
Gods, the way they interact with each other is just plain awesome. It's such a welcome change from what we normally read around the meme, so comfortable in their own quiet way. And I think the pacing is nearly perfect; they're not rushing into things, but the reader can pick up on the little nuances here and there to indicate that they're getting closer. Great job, anon!
Blue Lips 38
anonymous
April 27 2011, 02:30:22 UTC
Russia stood still, his back pressed to the wall as he listened to the soft noises within the house. The murmuring from the elderly woman’s radio below them and Anya and her mother talking as they walked to the stairs for school hinted at the early morning. Neither of these sounds interested him though, and instead he listened to the hitched breathing of the other nation enclosed within the guestroom walls. The surface of the hall wall was cold, seeping into the muscles of his back through his loose maroon sweater. His fingers grazed his brow, swiping away bangs, and Russia continued to stare at nothing.
It was over a month since the crash. Even with the hastened healing of a nation, it was a slow process of regaining mobility and strength in the leg that had been destroyed. Both Russia and America knew if he had been human he would have never walked again. And he would heal back to full strength, though the multiple puckered scars that raced along his calves were still in question to whether they would fully fade.
Blue Lips 39
anonymous
April 27 2011, 02:32:28 UTC
“Da. You will.” Russia had wanted to take the phone away to beat it into his head that if he didn’t rest all it would do was hurt him more. Did he really think he was missing the cold hard looks given after every session of physical therapy?
America had simply shrugged and mentioned the time, knowing Russia had to leave for a meeting he could not miss.
That had been yesterday morning.
This morning, the sunlight was cold and grey as it streamed through the drawn curtains. The room was cold in blue shadow, but Russia stood outside in the hall, leaning against the wall as he looked at the ceiling and listened to the hitched breathing from within the door.
America wasn’t taking slow progress well. He never had. It was always ‘I’m going to do this and it will happen now’. Russia admired that, the brazen strength that so few nations still had to keep getting up and moving. But now he listened to America, probably in pain from working the healing leg and deliberated on what to do. Violet eyes traced a hairline crack scrawled across
( ... )
Blue Lips 40
anonymous
April 27 2011, 02:38:26 UTC
Russia continued to study America, watching with slightly narrowed eyes as he took a long breath, choking on it near the end. “You need more medicine.”
“I don’t.” America was still on the bed, but flexed his fingers slowly as he balled the old quilt draped over him. His glasses sat on his chest near his throat, glinting in reflected light. Turning his head slightly, Alfred looked away from his arm and to the dark ceiling. “Really. I’m fine. Russia, I’ll be out in a minute.”
“It is only six,” Ivan murmured back and came over to the bed, concern for the other man slowly filling him. “You’re never up before eight on a good day.”
“I am for meetings.” Alfred closed his eyes, head turned away from the crutches that lay in the corner of the small room.
“Nyet. You are not.” Ivan looked towards the door of the guest room. “What is wrong?” When Alfred did nothing he growled out, “I will take you back to the hospital if you do not tell me.”
That at least got a weak glare from America. His blue eyes were dark in the light, but encircled
( ... )
Re: Blue Lips 40
anonymous
April 27 2011, 17:14:53 UTC
Oh I feel like my patience has paid off! I LOVE Ivan's insecurity about how to behave, it is so sweet ^.^ Quiet murmurs is Russian are as endearing as they are hot! Somehow I can't help feeling that Alfred is really lucky, lol.
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Oh author-anon, you have no idea how much I love this fill. There's just something so warm and quaint with the way you write Ivan's and Alfred's interaction with one another.
Reply
Russia looked to the doorway of the living room when he heard a loud knock, momentarily taken out of his work on his laptop. He looked back to the computer screen after a minute though, assuming it was Matthew and Alfred messing around. Canada had come late, blaming the GPS that had been programmed in Russian. Alfred had brightened up at the mere sight of his brother, sitting up higher on the couch and giving him a playful punch for being late. Once Canada and America had settled into a happy conversation, Russia had gone to his kitchen in order to give them some space. After all, his home was small and anyone together for a period of time would be likely to snap at each other- it was good that Matthew was here to bring a bit of variety.
Russia glanced down to his glass, cold vodka already half gone. For a moment, he thought of refilling it and then decided to wait until later before bed. With a small stretch to ease the tension out of his shoulder, he glanced over at the clock near the window, hanging above the little yellow ( ... )
Reply
“Nyet.” Russia began walking further into his home while the young girl stayed close by, fixing her doll’s dress as she continued to chatter. He finally saw the two other nations; Canada sitting on the floor while Alfred animatedly retold a story with his hands, still lying out on the couch. “Alfred, Matthew,” he began in English and both men fell silent while looking up at Russia. “This is Anna from next door.” He switched back to Russia as the girl peered over the edge of the couch. “Anechka, these are my friends, Matthew and Alfred.”
She waved quickly and then ran around, jumping up to the small spot where Alfred’s feet were. Canada shot his hands out to stop her, but America just sat back more having anticipated the event. Russia watched in concern at seeing the flinch when she sat down, but other than that America seemed to be fine.
Canada sighed, watching the girl for a moment over the rims of his glasses, making sure she wasn’t hurting Alfred, and returned to talking to his brother. Anna looked at Alfred, pausing in her ( ... )
Reply
“Tell the story! Pleeeeeaaaaase Mr. Ivan!” She looked so hopeful that he couldn’t say no. Russia rubbed his brow, closing his violet eyes for a minute before giving America a look as if to say, ‘why am I doing this?’
Sensing his hesitation, Anya whined quietly, “Please?”
Russia stood up and walked over to the table, pulling the green book closer to him. “How about I finish the story from last time?”
“Story time!” Both Anna and Alfred called, one in Russian and the other in English. Canada looked startled and glanced between America and Russia as if to glean more information. America pulled the covers up closer, while Canada rolled his eyes, but leaned against the couch and rested his head near America’s arm. Anna bounced a little as she snuggled into the pillows of the couch and held the doll close to her chest.
Russia flipped through the book, looking at the assortment of tales before finally finding one that sounded tame enough to read to Anna. “Once a long time ago,” he started and began to read the text, watching every few ( ... )
Reply
As for the relationship between Russia and america, I can see them slowly growing more comfortable around each other. Can't wait to see where you take them next, anon!
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Lol'd so much. I love how you write Alfred!
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Gods, the way they interact with each other is just plain awesome. It's such a welcome change from what we normally read around the meme, so comfortable in their own quiet way. And I think the pacing is nearly perfect; they're not rushing into things, but the reader can pick up on the little nuances here and there to indicate that they're getting closer. Great job, anon!
Reply
Russia stood still, his back pressed to the wall as he listened to the soft noises within the house. The murmuring from the elderly woman’s radio below them and Anya and her mother talking as they walked to the stairs for school hinted at the early morning. Neither of these sounds interested him though, and instead he listened to the hitched breathing of the other nation enclosed within the guestroom walls. The surface of the hall wall was cold, seeping into the muscles of his back through his loose maroon sweater. His fingers grazed his brow, swiping away bangs, and Russia continued to stare at nothing.
It was over a month since the crash. Even with the hastened healing of a nation, it was a slow process of regaining mobility and strength in the leg that had been destroyed. Both Russia and America knew if he had been human he would have never walked again. And he would heal back to full strength, though the multiple puckered scars that raced along his calves were still in question to whether they would fully fade.
Once Alfred had ( ... )
Reply
“Da. You will.” Russia had wanted to take the phone away to beat it into his head that if he didn’t rest all it would do was hurt him more. Did he really think he was missing the cold hard looks given after every session of physical therapy?
America had simply shrugged and mentioned the time, knowing Russia had to leave for a meeting he could not miss.
That had been yesterday morning.
This morning, the sunlight was cold and grey as it streamed through the drawn curtains. The room was cold in blue shadow, but Russia stood outside in the hall, leaning against the wall as he looked at the ceiling and listened to the hitched breathing from within the door.
America wasn’t taking slow progress well. He never had. It was always ‘I’m going to do this and it will happen now’. Russia admired that, the brazen strength that so few nations still had to keep getting up and moving. But now he listened to America, probably in pain from working the healing leg and deliberated on what to do. Violet eyes traced a hairline crack scrawled across ( ... )
Reply
Russia continued to study America, watching with slightly narrowed eyes as he took a long breath, choking on it near the end. “You need more medicine.”
“I don’t.” America was still on the bed, but flexed his fingers slowly as he balled the old quilt draped over him. His glasses sat on his chest near his throat, glinting in reflected light. Turning his head slightly, Alfred looked away from his arm and to the dark ceiling. “Really. I’m fine. Russia, I’ll be out in a minute.”
“It is only six,” Ivan murmured back and came over to the bed, concern for the other man slowly filling him. “You’re never up before eight on a good day.”
“I am for meetings.” Alfred closed his eyes, head turned away from the crutches that lay in the corner of the small room.
“Nyet. You are not.” Ivan looked towards the door of the guest room. “What is wrong?” When Alfred did nothing he growled out, “I will take you back to the hospital if you do not tell me.”
That at least got a weak glare from America. His blue eyes were dark in the light, but encircled ( ... )
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Continue your amazing work author!Anon, adhkjdhsjadh those last paragraphs ! Finaly some signs ! ~~
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