Calling all Hetalians: You HAVE to Read This!

Konbanwa, reader-sans!  Turtle-chan is here and still alive.  Life is painfully busy right now as usual.  *sigh*  But I only have a little less than a month of school left before I graduate, so maybe I'll be able to post more regularly over the summer.
Anyway, I found this amazing fanfic on Quotev and I HAD to share it with my fellow Hetalians.  It's called "The Hetalia Café" and it's a reader insert, but not like most other reader inserts (reference my Germany x Reader fic for what I'm talking about).  The storyline is very original, the writer gives wonderfully unique roles to the characters that fit their personalities to a T, and the writing itself is largely very good.  This is coming from a girl who has been told on countless occasions that she is a Grammar Nazi, by the by.  I'm only on chapter twelve, but I'm awestruck by the skill that has gone into this.  I love finding little gems like this in all of the mediocre fanfics out there.  Mine are among the mediocre, in my opinion.  This one could honestly be tweaked just a touch and be turned into a novel.  You can tell that the author has researched much of what she discusses to make it culturally authentic and it just makes me really happy!  If you like fanfictions, Hetalia, or both I'm going to have to ask you to read this.  I promise you won't regret it!
http://www.quotev.com/story/4250696/The-Hetalia-Cafe-Various-Countries-x-Reader/1/
Okay, that's all I have time for right now, but I'll try to get some more stuff written.  I seem to have contracted a case of writer's block, which is horribly depressing.  I'm working on getting over it.  I just haven't been inspired lately.  Oh, and since this Saturday is my school's prom and I will not be going this year (huzzah!) I'll probably try to do some sort of special post or something to celebrate my "me time."  I'll probably talk to you guys a little bit about my favorite song, which is shockingly romantic.  It seems appropriate, I guess.
Well, goodnight then and all that!  I'll catch you reader-sans later~!


- Turtle-chan

Don't Worry, I'm Not Dead or Anything!

Konbanwa!  So I just figured I'd pop in and let you reader-sans know I'm not dead or anything since I haven't been posting lately :P  I've had an insanely busy week and a half or so and it's been hard to find time to do anything like posting on the blog or writing stories.  I may be going into withdrawals, actually...  So many stories...  So little time...  Gah!  But still, I'm alive and stuff.  I'll let you know a little bit of what I've been up to, I guess.
Today was Spanish Convention for Spanish club, so last week was spent largely on sewing up a costume for the costume competition.  This week was spent cram learning how to dance a mambo cubano (Cuban mambo) for the dance competition.  My costume design won us fourth place out of about ten in the group costume division.  Our mambo also won fourth place out of eleven.  We practiced the dance for three days, by the way.  Three.  I'm very pleased with how things went, even though I'm absolutely exhausted and was put in charge of thirty-four of my peers because my teachers were busy running an event and because I was the most responsible and organized club officer there...  It was like herding cats...  Or toddlers...  Toddler cats...  *shudders*
So yeah, that's what I've been working up to.  I also went to see a live show of Welcome to Night Vale in a city sort of nearby.  It was awesome!  But I'll save the fangirling for later because I cosplayed as fem!Cecil (a.k.a. Cecilia Palmer) for the event and I figured I'd show it to you all.  It was technically my first time cosplaying in public, since I'd say Halloween doesn't really count, unless you would call my calavera makeup for the Day of the Dead as a cosplay.
Okay, I'm going to go to bed now.  I'm tired and my hips are sore from mamboing.  I'm not used to dancing with my hips swinging...  Ballerinas don't do that at all on a regular basis. (O.o)  Yeah.  Exhaustion.  Delirium.  Sleep...  Catch you reader-sans later!


- Turtle-chan

Germany x Reader: Blut und Schokolade

Konichiwa!  I'm back again after a small bout of writer's block!  Huzzah!  Anyway, it's 1:00 a.m. here and I'm tired and possibly a little high off of incense after the first mass of Holy Week, so yeah.  Woo!  Just warning you, I wrote most of this in the last hour, so it's probably crappy.  Also, I'm horribly mean while I'm on my period and I have cramps so bad they make me nauseous and unable to move, so that's pretty much my inspiration for this little chapter.  Also, I feel like poor Germany wouldn't know how to handle a girl on her period and would awkwardly have to call Hungary for help, but once she explained it to him he would man up and deal with it and just let himself be a punching bag for a week, the softie.  Haha!  Yeah, I'm just gonna post this now before I let my madness infect you reader-sans any further...  Oh, and the title is in German.  It means "Blood and Chocolate." (^J^)


- Turtle-chan

                Oh no…  It can’t be…  You feel your heart racing and your stomach drop as you squeeze your eyes shut, hoping that it will go away if you can’t see it.  But that’s not how life works, and you feel another wave of pain wash over you.  Crap…  You gingerly open one eye and look down to see blood all over your bed sheets.  You roll over onto your stomach and let out a groan of pain and frustration.  It’s early this month.  Why?  Man, this sucks…

Slowly, you manage to get yourself into a standing position and you stagger your way over to the bathroom, glad that it is so early that none of the boys should be awake yet.  You lock the door and pull your shirt over your head and slip out of your shorts and underthings, turning the water on in the shower.  You step in and watch listlessly as the water turns red and runs down your legs and down the drain.  With a sigh, you begin to scrub the blood off, making slow progress due to the crippling waves of pain in your abdomen.

                Once you’re clean, you step out of the shower and quickly dry off before stopping the flow of blood with a (your preference for dealing with periods).  You’re sitting on the cold tile floor, curled up in the fetal position and wrapped in the damp towel and trying to work up the will to move when you hear a shout from down the hall and then a pounding noise coming closer to the bathroom door.

                “(y/n)!  (y/n)!  Are you in zere?  Are you alright?” you hear Germany shout, knocking on the door frantically.

                With a groan, you pull yourself to your feet using the counter for support and stagger over to unlock the door.  “Yeah, I’m fine.  What’s wrong?” you ask him, trying to keep your irritability in check.  All you want is to be left alone.

                Germany scans you with his eyes for a moment before pulling you tight against him.  “Zank Gott,” he breathes into your hair.  “All zat blut…  I sought you vere hurt.”

                “I’m fine, Liebe.  It’s just girl stuff,” you assure him, enjoying the comfort of his touch but also just wishing you could go and curl up somewhere to die.

                “Alright.  I am sorry for zee skare.  Ve are trainink once I get Italy avake,” Germany tells you, releasing you and smiling at you with his eyes.

                “It’s fine.  Just give me a minute to get dressed and I’ll meet you guys outside,” you respond, brushing past him and making a beeline for your bedroom.

                Once inside, you curl up on the floor and allow the tears you’d been holding back to roll down your cheeks.  Ah, it hurts.  You don’t allow yourself to be weak for long, though, because you don’t want any of the guys prying, so you force yourself to get up and get dressed, trying to plaster a convincing smile onto your face as you walk out the door.

                “Alright.  Today ve are goink to be doink enturance trainink,” Germany shouts.  “Shtart runnink!”

                You groan internally, but begin to jog, already feeling the effects of the exercise on your cramps.  You make it through several laps, but the pain becomes too much and you stop, doubling over and clutching at your lower abdomen.  You hiss unintelligible foul language under your breath as you try to breathe through the wave of pain.

                “Hey, vhy are you not runnink?  Are you alright?” Germany asks, coming to a stop behind you.  He places a hand on your shoulder and tries to pull you upright, but you slap his hand away.

                “Not in the mood, Germany!” you snap, glaring up at him.  He is struck dumb, staring at you with wide blue eyes and his hand still outstretched.  Leaving him like that, you quickly make your way inside.

                “Ugh, damn it!” you exclaim to yourself when you realize that you have to wash the blood out of your bed sheets.  You snap the sheets off of the bed and make your way down the stairs, throwing the sheets down on the floor as you mix some stain remover with water to soak the sheets in.  You shove the sheets into the solution and march back up the stairs, curling up on the bare mattress with a blanket wrapped around you.

                You can hear the sounds of the Axis guys training from outside and it just makes you angrier.  Why can’t they just be quiet?  You dig your fingernails into the hard muscle of your thighs as another wave of pain washes over you.  Somehow, you manage to fall asleep, but it is a troubled sleep and you have nightmares or shadowy figures with knives that dig slowly into your stomach.

                “(y/n)?  Schatz?  Are you really alright?” Germany asks quietly as he gently shakes you awake.

                “Go away,” you hiss, batting his hand away again.  “I feel like someone is dragging a blunt knife through my stomach, I’m freezing, I’m bleeding all over the place, I’m angry, and I just want to sleep.”

                “A-ah.  I see.  I am sorry for bozerink you,” Germany replies, sounding a little frightened.  But he leaves you alone and goes back downstairs, allowing you to try to sleep again.  Not that you can actually fall back asleep.  Of course not.  That would be too easy, now wouldn’t it?

                So you lie awake, glaring at the wall.  You’re so angry you want to hit something, but it hurts too much to stand, so you just have to lie there getting angrier and angrier.  And you really want to eat some chocolate, too, but there isn’t any, which just adds to your anger.  Idiot men being idiots and not understanding.  Jerks.

                A few hours later, you hear a tentative knock on your bedroom door.  “What?” you respond harshly, not turning around to see who it is.

                “I brought you some sings.  Hungary sait zey voult make you feel better.  Do not vorry, I vill not shtay unt bozer you,” Germany says as he closes the door behind him.  You hear him walking over to the bed.  “Pain meticine, menzol patches, hot wasser bottle, anozer blanket, unt chocolate.”  You hear him setting each item down on the bedside table, one at a time.

                You quickly turn around and face Germany, a look of surprise on your face.  He is looking down at you with messy blonde hair and concern in his eyes.  He looks so worried and stressed that you feel bad.  You know you haven’t been treating him fairly.  You reach out and take one of his large, warm hands in your smaller, cold ones, and pull him closer.  “Thank you, Liebe,” you tell him, brushing a light kiss across his knuckles.  “And, I’m sorry for being so cruel today.”

                Germany smiles tiredly down at you.  “It is alright, mein Schatz.  I dit not untershtant, but Hungary explainet it to me.  I vish you dit not haf to experience such sings.  I just vant you to feel better,” he explains, squeezing your hand as he leans over you, supporting himself on the bed with his free hand.  “Vell, I vill leaf you alone now.”

                “Wait!” you exclaim, clinging tighter to his hand.  He gives you a questioning look.  “Stay with me?  Just for a little while?”

                His gaze softens and he nods.  “Ja,” he responds.  “But first, take your meticine.”

                You do as he says, and eat a piece of chocolate, before he sits down on the bed next to you and throws the extra blanket over you both.  You snuggle in close to him, enjoying his warmth and breathing in his scent.  It doesn’t take long for you to drift off to sleep and you’re not sure if it’s part of your dream or part of reality, but you think you feel Germany brush a soft kiss against your forehead just as you’re falling asleep.