Вспышкой света, солёным ветром,
Колючим словом, горячим летом
Обожги, разбуди, попробуй,
Расскажи как, научи

Выбирать,
Выбраться отсюда,
Различить
Твою руку среди тысяч,
Полететь, разбивая окна,
К тебе навстречу!

Детским смехом, зелёным цветом,
Далёкой песни настырным эхом
Развяжи, покажи дорогу,
Назови смысл, позови

Полететь, разбивая окна,
Приземлиться и расправить плечи,
К птицам, улицам, листьям, лицам,
К тебе навстречу!

— Здравствуйте, воробьи!
— Здравствуй, Ольга!
— Здравствуйте, муравьи!
— Здравствуй, Ольга!
Значит, твоя рука дотянулась,
Здравствуйте, облака,
Я вернулась!

Всё, что было, уже забылось,
Всё, что будет, ещё не снилось,
Только крикнул, лишь миг, и вот,
Я уже возникла

Вспышкой света,
Соленым ветром,
Колючим словом,
Горячим летом
Снова здесь, снова рядом,
Только почувствуй это!

— Здравствуйте, лучики!
— Здравствуй, Ольга!
— Здравствуйте, ручейки!
— Здравствуй, Ольга!

Значит, твоя рука дотянулась,
Здравствуйте, облака,
Я вернулась!

— Здравствуйте, пёрышки!
— Здравствуй, Ольга!
— Здравствуйте, зёрнышки!
— Здравствуй, Ольга!

Здравствуйте, тополя! —
Пух несётся, —
Здравствуй, моя Земля,
Здравствуй, Солнце!

— Здравствуйте берега и безбрежность!
— Здравствуй, моя любовь!
— Здравствуй, нежность!
— Здравствуй, моя душа! Без оглядки,
Воздухом этим вновь как же сладко
Дышать…

@темы: ooops, i did it again, spending my time

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угадайте, кто?

4 разных персонажа из Хеталии~

@темы: ooops, i did it again, spending my time, ttly like 4 u

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www.dw-world.de/dw/0,,10319,00.html

*слюнки* аааыыы *_____________________*

@темы: spending my time, Для памяти

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Пишет  Beann Sidhe:

18.09.2009 в 10:23

В средневековых замках были туалеты - маленькие каморки в выступе внешней стены, с трубой или без, откуда отходы жизнедеятельности падали за пределы замка (в ров или попросту под стену, в особо продвинутых замках для этой цели рыли глубокую яму). Легенда гласит, что тевтонские рыцари приглашали неугодных им людей в замок и бросали в туалет вниз головой, отчего те, естественно, помирали, поскольку лететь было далеко.
Ссылка на статью с картинками

тут

www.jamesmdeem.com/castlepage.toilets.htm (статья, правда, на английском)

URL комментария

Прушечка ниипаццо суров, лол))))

@темы: ttly like 4 u

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Закрытая запись, не предназначенная для публичного просмотра

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10.09.2009 в 15:43

Пишет  KoriTora:

Игра в куклы
Это великолепно!

Девушки, помните, как мы в детстве играли в бумажных куколок с наборами нарядов?
Знаете, сколько сейчас flash-игр того же плана "наряди принцессу"?
Но мы-то уже выросли, нам уже не до того, правда?
Щаз!
По ссылке две игры, нарисованных великолепным иллюстратором Annie Stegg. Срочно смотреть! Какой стиль, боги мои, боги...

CLOCKWORK COUTURE

POLKA DOT PIRATE

@темы: Для памяти

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ненене, хорошо.
вот давай с тобой, хани-хани, останемся исключительно игровыми партнерами и все такое. без претензий на что-то посерьезнее, ок?
меня вымораживают твои истерики и соплеразливы, хотя я и сама на такое горазда. это, прости, писец какой-то.
и потом.

BinaryDigit ‎(12.08.2009 20:48):
только учти. или ты сейчас озвучишь свои реальные требования - хочу так-то и так-то, - либо молчишь и больше ничего не просишь. мне надоел мир на пару недель и потом все заново.

вот так-то, хани-хани.

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дайры заработали о__О"

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www.lovehoney.co.uk/product.cfm?p=2448&var=A

Norway wakes at seven AM to a happily empty bed, no Denmark stealing the sheets or trying to coax him into morning sex. He takes a moment to stretch out, touching the sides of the bed, taking it all up by himself.

Then he gets up.

Denmark’s left a note and a box on the kitchen table. Norway lets them sit until he’s done putting together his breakfast. He reads the note over a slice of bread and a half-litre of fresh coffee.

Norway –

I’m off to my meeting. Stay warm! Also, just so you won’t miss me, I bought you something. Feel free to use it – I want to hear what you think.

Denmark

Norway sets the note aside to recycle later and picks up the box, which is wrapped in gift paper patterned with a red-and-white plaid. Denmark, ever the gentle egotist.

He strips the paper off the box and immediately freezes, horrified. A vibrating dildo. Of course, he owns a vibrator; most Nations have received one from France. The same is true of dildos. He’s never needed one because he’s never had a shortage of partners, especially since he discovered oil in the North Sea.

And then he actually looks, and his belly goes cold-hot with shock and annoyance. He knows that penis, knows it damn well indeed. Has had it in his hand, his mouth, his ass. Hot, hard, straight onto his sweet spot, and attached to Denmark, who if he knew how much Norway enjoyed sex with him would never shut up about it. In private or in public.

Best to ignore the gift, such as it isn’t, and leave Denmark feeling useless. Norway puts it next to the also-unused toys from France in a drawer in his dresser, and goes to work.


At work, Denmark has sent him an email message containing only an emoticon depicting a beautifully designed chair. Norway responds with a terse, If you’re going to email furniture porn, send it to Sweden.

Almost immediately Denmark sends back, What about regular porn?

Turn off your BlackBerry.

After that he is permitted to work in peace.

At lunch he eats with some of his counties, has wonderful conversation, and indulges in chocolate cake for dessert, followed by some delicious coffee.

He gets back to his office and checks his email: a number of messages, many of them official and important. Nothing from Denmark. He’s relieved and disappointed in equal measure.

He works until eight that evening because there is no Denmark to call and interrupt him by saying they should meet for dinner. He comes back to a quiet house, cooks himself dinner, and eats it sitting under a tree in his back yard, getting bitten by insects.

That night he sleeps peacefully, and wakes alone and refreshed.


He and Sweden have a meeting the next day, perfectly businesslike, and the only email Norway receives from Denmark during the day is a link to a picture of a cat, with a humorous caption. Norway sends back, Am in a meeting. In future, please send pictures of small fluffy creatures to Finland.

After the meeting, drained, he gets an early take-out dinner from a restaurant on his way home, eats it in the silence of his own kitchen, and collapses on his couch.

He must’ve dozed off, because he wakes not long after, the sun already set. He watches the stars for a few moments, then goes to sit outside, watching planes pass by overhead like little stars.

If Denmark were here he would want to go out clubbing or watch television (the more insipid, the better) or have sex. Norway wonders if that last wouldn’t pass the time now. It’ll be a little while yet before he’s tired. Probably not. He still needs to pack a lunch for tomorrow; he doesn’t like the cafeteria, and the nearby restaurants are too expensive for his lunch tastes, especially with his economy thisclose to falling to pieces like everyone else’s.

Denmark sometimes puts together their lunches, like he sometimes cooks breakfast and sometimes sleeps over. It’s a mindless, kind thing, something he does when the whimsy strikes him.

Norway goes inside, puts together a sandwich to take to work in the morning, and goes to bed. He spends a little time reading, and when he’s done he thinks about masturbating but doesn’t.


Day three dawns with a message from Denmark in the inbox of Norway’s personal email account, the one where diplomatic messages aren’t allowed. Denmark and Iceland are the only ones who use it regularly, and very few other Nations know it.

Might not want to watch this in a meeting, reads the message, and the attachment is a video file.

He turns down the sound on his computer and opens the video.

It’s footage of Denmark, sitting in front of his computer, watching the computer’s camera-eye intently.

“Hiya, Norge,” he says. “I thought maybe sending you a monologue might get your attention when small cute fluffy things and furniture didn’t.

“It’s been pretty boring here, not much to do. I’ve been smoking some pot with Amsterdam, which was fun the first couple of times but has gotten boring. Everyone’s trying to be nice so that things go smoothly, but what I wouldn’t give to be at a meeting where people could react honestly to each other – I’d invite Switzerland, but he wouldn’t belong.” Denmark shifts in his seat. “It’d be nice to have you here, too. I value your opinion, even if you are prickly and insult everyone. But you’ve got the North Sea, so unless you wanted to go visit Sweden and marry me that’s right out.” He laughs a little hollowly, or so it seems to Norway. “I’m sorry; I’m a little drunk. Sleep well. I’ll be by when the conference is over.” The video ends.

Norway closes the video program and finishes his breakfast. So Denmark is lonely, out there in a hotel full of other Nations and Cities and Provinces. So lonely that he said something he needed to pass off as drunkenness – and Norway’s certain that Denmark had no alcohol in his system when he said it. Odd. Flattering.

He spends all day thinking that he should respond in kind, with something too intimate to be shared. If only so Denmark won’t be as upset and will be able to drag himself through the rest of the conference. What to do, what to do…

After dinner, he brings his computer up to the bedroom, plugs it in and turns it on, and makes sure the video is set properly. Then he starts recording.

“Since I can’t dissuade you through normal means, I’m answering your message.

“I’m sorry to hear you’re not enjoying the meetings, but I don’t think marijuana will solve your problems.

“If you’re really so bored with their being peaceful, I’m sure all you have to do is mention American oil policy and you’ll have more chaos than even you need. Good luck.”

He saves it under the file name WATCHMEFIRST. He can rename it later if he needs to.

The second file he starts recording after moving the computer to his dresser, camera facing the bed, and he stands in the center of the screen’s view, still clothed. Unzips his jacket, letting his fingers trace the cloth-and-metal joins, and lets the garment fall to the floor. Shirt next, white cloth sliding down and off his arms.

He thinks of Denmark watching the video, smirk stopped with shock. Who would expect caustic, quiet Norway to strip at all, let alone for Denmark? He unbuttons his trousers, unzips. Palms his growing erection, stroking, and closes his eyes, not wanting to look at the camera. When he sees this part, Denmark will laugh, because Norway is blushing.

Focusing on his embarassment distracts him, his arousal slipping away despite his own touch. He sits on the bed, legs hanging down over the edge, and spreads his knees apart, sliding down his trousers and the briefs below them until his hand, trying to bring him to full arousal, is all that is between the camera and his groin.

He’s never done this for Denmark before. Masturbated in front of him, yes, but only when he was already aroused. Never from nothing. And he has to bring it all the way through, put on a show that will leave Denmark frustrated and wound tight with desire.

Even if Denmark manages to finish himself, it won’t be enough. That’s who he is. He’ll pretend he’s satisfied, but he won’t be. He’ll come back to Norway and smirk and grin and laugh, and he’ll be stone-hard and trembling with need.

Norway’s naked, now, the pit of his belly tight with arousal. He smears lube on his hand to let it warm before folding his fingers over his cock, stroking. He can’t imagine it’s Denmark’s hand because his hands are smaller than Denmark’s, with rougher callouses, but he thinks of Denmark watching this and that’s enough to keep him going. He glances over at the camera to make sure it’s still recording, and he catches a view of himself, spread over the quilt, skin pink and legs spread, cock and balls well-visible.

He rolls onto his back, pulling up his knees so his feet are flat on the bed, straight shot from the camera lens to between his legs. Reaches between and slicks the skin around his hole before spilling more lube on his fingers. Cold again, warming against his skin, but still a shock when he presses into himself. He feels the muscles tighten around his fingers, forces himself to relax, and plays with his erection a bit. His fingers are nowhere close to his prostate, so it mostly feels odd and intrusive instead of enjoyable. He doesn’t pretend otherwise. Denmark has never minded that he’s quiet during sex, so he’s not going to put on a show that involves fake reactions.

He stays that way for a while, pressing his fingers in and out of himself, feeling the tightness of having his knuckles draw through his entrance, until he realises that he’s not close, and this is supposed to be for Denmark, who’s probably gotten bored by now. So he reaches out to his nightstand, where he put that stupid present after washing it, slicks it up, and pulls the fingers inside himself to the side so he can slide it in instead of just having to shove, like Denmark does and which frankly hurts.

If Denmark isn’t yelling with gleefully aroused shock at the realization of exactly what Norway is using on himself, then he is not the nation Norway has always thought him to be.

He closes his eyes, shifts its angle inside him trying to find where Denmark always fits sweetly enough to make him lose his breath, and can’t imitate it. He gives up after a minute or so.

After that, it’s just him, his gaze fixed to the ceiling, one hand on his cock and one hand guiding the dildo inside him. Hips rocking into the motion, enjoying the tightness of his own grip, the sensation of being stretched.

Shock of pleasure, sweet inside him and he jerks, gasping. Denmark’s cock-by-imitation finding his prostate, and Norway slides himself onto it again and yet more, feeling heavy and disarranged, like there is nothing inside him but the dildo and blood-weighted arousal, no stomach and little of anything other than heart.

He plays with the skin of his balls, the head of his cock, tracing veins and foreskin. He imagines that the thing inside him is actually part of Denmark, that Denmark is standing at the edge of the bed, legs braced apart and cock plunging into Norway, the pressure of his arm on his own hip Denmark’s hand holding him steady.

It’s imagining the bruises that he’d have on his hips that brings Norway over the edge. It’s not the most intense orgasm he’s ever had, less like feeling bombed-out and more washed over with stars.

He stays on his back for a couple of minutes, reveling in the afterglow, before pulling the dildo out and taking it to the bathroom to wash off. At least the dildo, even without a condom, doesn’t leave him full of come.

That’s when he returns and turns the camera off.

Without getting dressed, he watches the video again, goes to take a shower to think over whether or not he wants to send it, and finally saves it as WATCHWHILEALONE before sending it, along with the other message.


He receives no response for the two remaining days of Denmark’s conference. He’s not sure whether to be flattered at having silenced even Denmark or to be angry at Denmark ignoring him.

Two hours before Denmark’s plane is set to land in Oslo, Norway decides that anger is better. When Denmark walks in the door, just in time for a late dinner, Norway has deliberately burnt Denmark’s portion. He’s also made up a bed on the couch for Denmark.

The first thing Denmark does is turn off the stove. “I brought dinner,” he says, wrapping around Norway and setting a plastic bag on the counter next to the stove. “Let’s eat now and go to bed.” He kisses Norway’s neck, the hollow behind his ear.

“Tired?” Norway manages to inflect that with just enough sarcasm to make it an insult.

“Hungry,” Denmark says. That’s when Norway realizes Denmark’s hands are shaking. “So hungry. You have no idea. I never thought you would use it. I…”

Norway slides out of his grasp and puts the food on the table, all of it, even the dinner he cooked. “Don’t drink beer with dinner,” he orders. “You’ll drink too much and impair your performance. Which might disappoint you. It makes no difference to me now that you’ve copied your most useful parts.”

@темы: Для памяти, ttly like 4 u

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списочек всего, что я писала по Хеталии (может, не всего, но с сообщества точно все)

Школьная АУшка (я лентяище, позор мне, да)
Германия, Пруссия, Берлинская стена
Коммунальная страна: Пианина и Брат Чехословакия
Пруссия/Венгрия на челлендж
Англия, Силенд, солдатики
Польша/Литва, наше время, длинный соплявый ангстик
Марафон, Пруссия/Венгрия (две штуки, читать вторую, потому что первая - фэйл)
Перевод capital kink и свой драббл П/Л (с ФМ в 14 предложений)
Германия/Италия, первый раз типа и все такое, сопли, флафф и эвфемизмы (жезла нет)
Доа. Это оно. САМЫЙ ПЕРВЫЙ ФИК. Вас предупредили~

@темы: Для памяти, ttly like 4 u

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песенно-музыкальное

что с чем ассоциируется и так далее

Abba - The winner takes it all
Польша/Литва, Дания/Норвегия, Англия/Америка, Франция/Англия.

Abba (Meryl Streep) - Mamma mia
Однозначно Германия/Италия. У меня уже целый клип в голове сложился на эту песню *___*

Abba - Honey Honey
М... Грелл/Себастьян?) Попутно Австрия/Венгрия и Россия/Белоруссия

Бригада - Мулатка (да, почти блатняк, а что?)
Кто угодно/Интегра, лол.
"Вот и ты убита, девочка-мулатка..."

Бутусов - Триллипут
Германия/Италия
"Ко мне мой странный друг приходит - вот так, вдруг, вдруг".

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Есенин

1. Меня никто не любит. За последние 10 минут ни один человек мне в этом не признался!
2. Я умею готовить. Только что ходила на кухню готовить себе бутерброд. Правда, хлеба в доме не оказалось, пришлось возвращаться.
3. Я очень люблю свою работу. Особенно, когда ее делает кто-нибудь другой.
4. Я очень хрупкая, маленькая и ранимая. Ну и что с того, что во мне 180 см роста и 90 кг веса? Главное – это душа!
5. Я ничего не умею делать, я жуткая бездарь и страшная, как атомная война. Кто меня в этом разубедит?
6. Я могу долго и красиво говорить. Особенно мысленно и сама с собой.
7. Держать аудиторию я тоже умею. Однажды продержала ее целых полчаса, застряв вместе со стулом в дверях конференц-зала.
8. Вчера полночи мысленно разговаривала со своим бывшим парнем. Писать ему не стала – мы ведь уже все обсудили!
9. Лучше не доводить меня до слез. Когда это случилось в последний раз, пришли соседи снизу с жалобой, что их затопило. А я что, виновата, что в ванной плакать удобнее?
10. Если в ближайшие 10 минут никто не скажет, что меня любит, я умру!

Я не Есенин не Есенин не Есенин не Есенин
*самопереубеждение*

отсюда

@темы: spending my time

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интересно, это помешательство или еще (уже) любовь?

@темы: он сел на кресло

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сегодня на физике читала наши смски.
где ты? жду, скучаю.

а еще у меня на очках четвертая трещина. слева сверху. смотреть неудобно.
пойду завтра в линзах.

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Япония ставит на стол тарелку и внимательно смотрит на брата. Йонг-Су умудряется одновременно есть, говорить и смотреть новости.
В Корее уживаются два человека. Один смотрит квадратными глазами на еду и спрашивает "Что это?", указывая на холодильник, другой просто метет все, что видит, потому что желудок у Кореи все-таки один, и хватается за любую возможность подзаработать. Один - совсем коммунист, другой - почти. Они совершенно разные.
И каждый утверждает, что второй - это временное ответвление сознания, а на самом деле Им Йонг-Су один, только они никак не могут договориться - кто же главный.
Япония вздыхает. Они все уже привыкли, что у них вместо одного теперь два брата.

@темы: ttly like 4 u

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Обе две - задолбали, если честно.

Обменяйтесь номерами асечек и выясняйте отношения там, а не плачьтесь мне на друг на друга. на-до-е-ло.

@темы: испанская инквизиция, он сел на кресло

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прыгать в четыре часа утра у компа, пританцовывая под Nimbooda, конечно, ненормально.
Зато школьную обязаловку я честно проспала.

@темы: spending my time

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Все, кто не может сдать ЕГЭ по русскому языку, не нуждаются в высшем образовании.

@темы: испанская инквизиция

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26.08.2009 в 15:08

Пишет  Случайный дневник:

К холиварам
Вегетерианцы - тихие, не создающие другим проблем люди.
Веганы - долбанутые существа, нуждающиеся в отстреле.

Христиане - тихие, не создающие другим проблем люди.
Хоругвеносцы - долбанутые существа, нуждающиеся в отстреле.

Бездетные - тихие, не создающие другим проблем люди.
Чайлдфри - долбанутые существа, нуждающиеся в отстреле.

И так далее. Первых - во всех таких смысловых парах - у меня достаточно тут. Вторые - ублюдки, которых надо бить гантелями по голове. Как же отличить?

А очень просто. Пока ты сам не ешь мясо - ты придерживаешься вегетерианской диеты. Но когда ты начинаешь выступать за то, чтобы мяса не ели другие - тебе лучше немедленно выйти в окно.

© Модо

Примерно как-то так.

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кошки *____________*
чувствую себя Грецией. позаливать вам, что ли, свое кошачье царство. они такие... такие... такие!!!..

*восторженный писк*

@темы: spending my time