La Principauté Monégasque
I am the personified Principality of Monaco; pleased to make your acquaintance. I was recommended to start this online diary of sorts by a friend, and I hope that I'm as welcome here as much as others. Magic!Anon: None Relationship?: Dating AU Arthur [thefallenbritishempire][Independent RP blog for Hetalia's Monaco. I do not own anything. Might be a NSFW post every once in a blue moon, save some roleplays.] [Faceclaim is Charlotte Casiraghi until further notice.] [ ]

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theladymonaco:

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theladymonaco:

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theladymonaco:

-

She definitely didn’t mind that he was naked. She didn’t plan on denying herself much in the terms of looking as she pleased, either. Her plans for sex with him on that couch? Huh. Didn’t know he was into that. Guess it was a bit—but only a bit—like her being into BDSM, but that was another conversation for another time (even though that would be a conversation she wouldn’t particularly mind having with him).

Camille was, for the most part, mentally involved in the movie, jumping a little at the slightly more surprising parts, such as when the bull’s horns pierced the metal covering of main character’s fighter. She blushed only a little at this, not daring to check to see if he had noticed.

He found it cute how subtle Camille was trying to be when it came to the more surprising and violent parts of the movie. He had expected her to be rather used to it all, but he guessed that even she had a few moments where she had to let her strong demeanor down.

He didn’t want to completely embarrass her, though, so rather than tease her out loud, he held her closer to him, smiling in amusement at the screen. “It’s a good movie, isn’t it?” he whispered, hoping to start up a bit of small-talk.

She could feel his gaze on her, and she wasn’t entirely sure if it was again because she was naked and laying on him, or it was her jumping. She felt like it was the latter. So instead of getting uselessly flustered over it like she probably would have if this had been a regular day, she moved with him, letting her arms around his chest and resting the side of her head against his chest.

Camille nodded, smiling a little. “This guy’s a shit bet, though,” she chuckled. “I’ve seen this movie a few times before, but I still love it.” The little boy had always annoyed Camille in the beginning of the movie, though. So rude.

ofsoutherngraceandcharm:

theladymonaco:

She’d be a bit picky about the newly self-tailored dress-now-shirt, but she would keep it to herself. She didn’t want to bother him with it, anyway. Camille felt that to be one of the last things he needed right then.

She then nodded in comprehension, pursing her lips for a moment. How would they explain it? “So, I’m guessing that they don’t know?” Camille guessed, mentally hoping that she didn’t sound stupid and ignorant. She didn’t know if he had told everyone, or if Alfred had, either. She had. Camille had figured that it might as well be out there for all to see. People would get suspicious soon enough, and she didn’t want to have to worry about that.

“Unless you explained it while I was under…” It wasn’t something he let others know usually. Certain generals he had served under, sure, a president, of course, but just the average person? He could probably count on one hand how many knew of his identity as the embodiment of a nation. Well, with the exception of the Britt family, most of them knew, but besides that… Aaron was pretty certain that at best he’d be labelled crazy, at worst it’d put a target on his back.

Which, of course, left him the issue of now. Normally if he was injured, he’d leave the scene. The last time he had gotten into an accident, he had taken a curve too fast while it was raining and instead of staying, had instead limped into the woods to recover. Had he been capable of it, he’d have surely done the same upon being shot. It’s a little late for that now, and he has to wonder what to do. If he unhooked himself from the machines, it was likely a few nurses would come running. 

“No, I didn’t have the time. I wasn’t sure if they’d take kindly to it, either, so I didn’t bother. That, and, well, we were kind of sleeping, so… yeah.” Camille didn’t want to make any hasty assumptions, especially in a case like this. Though it seemed that she had, even though she was trying to not to. Things like these just escaped her mind sometimes. But it wasn’t like she wasn’t doing this with good intentions. She really was. She just wasn’t sure on how to do it right.

“Hope you don’t mind too much. Sorry.” In hindsight, she was really hitting herself over this, even though he had been unavailable to talk to up until now, seeing that she sure as hell didn’t think of bringing this up right after he had been shot. She hadn’t even been sure of his mental state other than terrified, maybe. Am I really that bad at this?

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theladymonaco:

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calmandserenekeys:

“I have been doing well actually. Nothing eventful has happened though.” He responded with a light smile. “I have just been quite a time with Gilbert around.” 

Her eyes caught an ever-so-slightly mischievous glint, and the corners of her lips turned up in the faintest simper. She didn’t want to step over any boundaries, of course. They had just met. “What kind of time?” Camille chuckled, smiling just enough to reveal the smallest traces of teeth.

ofsoutherngraceandcharm:

theladymonaco:

“Alright then,” she shrugged, deciding to brush it off. Maybe she could pick up some of his clothes later. The shirt she was likely able to fix, but it would still seem a bit awkward to wear for him, however. She would have let him borrow something, but her still existent bits of common sense told her that he wouldn’t don it proudly, exactly. And she wouldn’t blame him.

“How much longer do you think you’ll have to be here?” Camille asked in a quieter voice, more serious. She glanced away from him, feeling a pang of guilt hit her right in the chest. This is all my fault. But she still clung to him, and she believed that that was because she was selfish and needy, that she wanted him to be there anyway because she didn’t want to lay there without him, that it would be worse for her if he were to be gone. And she felt so selfish for feeling that.

Unless Camille was able to do something about the bloodstain that was sure to be all over his shirt, it’s likely that piece of clothing was ruined, but at least the rest should be fine. He’d probably put his jeans back on and wear the hospital gown as a makeshift shirt for the sake of decency, until he was able to get back home and to his closet.

“Well, being a Nation, I doubt for much longer. The injury ought to be healed anyway.” At least beings like them were able to heal quicker than humans; that was another reason he didn’t like hospitals: it can be awkward explaining how a injury that killed him had healed by the next day. Maybe it would’ve been best to have gotten up and left in the night, expect he’s still connected to the machines. 

She’d be a bit picky about the newly self-tailored dress-now-shirt, but she would keep it to herself. She didn’t want to bother him with it, anyway. Camille felt that to be one of the last things he needed right then.

She then nodded in comprehension, pursing her lips for a moment. How would they explain it? “So, I’m guessing that they don’t know?” Camille guessed, mentally hoping that she didn’t sound stupid and ignorant. She didn’t know if he had told everyone, or if Alfred had, either. She had. Camille had figured that it might as well be out there for all to see. People would get suspicious soon enough, and she didn’t want to have to worry about that.

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theladymonaco:

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“Iron Man is one of my favorites!” he responded happily, pleased that they shared the interest in the same movie. He turned the corner and smiled when he found the living room; it was too late in their relationship to actually get lost inside her house.

“And of course I’m strong. I work out. Just for you, babe.” He kissed her cheek and then settled her on the couch. “Real Steel is with Hugh Jackman, right?” Yeah, he remembered that one. “Can we watch it? Is it in the cabinet-thing? I wanna see it again!”

Camille grinned, kissing the top of his head now that she could reach it. “That’s the one,” she chimed. “Here, I’ll get it. Couch is right there.” Once her feet touched the ground, she glided over to the cabinet-thing, picking out the desired movie and putting it in. She handed Alfred the remote, turning back to the kitchen when she heard the stove claim that it was done preheating with a few loud beeps.

She quickly crossed over to the kitchen, popping the pizza in, setting the time, and moving back to Alfred, cuddling into his lap and laying down. After planting a quick kiss on his lips, Camille turned her gaze to the TV, her thumb subconsciously tracing along his skin while she watched.

“I know where the couch is, silly,” America joked, plopping right down on it. He figured she didn’t mind that he was naked; after all, he was still clean. He just took a bath. Besides that, he was sure they would have sex on this couch one day or later, and sex was a lot dirtier than just sitting.

He turned on the movie while she was gone, and then played with her hair when she sat down on his lap. He didn’t deny himself the one or two glances down (she was naked, god, he couldn’t control himself sometimes), but, for the most part, he stayed interested in the movie.

She definitely didn’t mind that he was naked. She didn’t plan on denying herself much in the terms of looking as she pleased, either. Her plans for sex with him on that couch? Huh. Didn’t know he was into that. Guess it was a bit—but only a bit—like her being into BDSM, but that was another conversation for another time (even though that would be a conversation she wouldn’t particularly mind having with him).

Camille was, for the most part, mentally involved in the movie, jumping a little at the slightly more surprising parts, such as when the bull’s horns pierced the metal covering of main character’s fighter. She blushed only a little at this, not daring to check to see if he had noticed.

ofsoutherngraceandcharm:

theladymonaco:

“They aren’t,” she chuckled, looking down at the sheets. She took that as the green light to snuggle back up to him, and so that’s exactly what she did. “Guess I’ll just have to chance it, then,” she mumbled against his shoulder, shamelessly wrapping an arm around him.

She eyed the hospital gown again, and she reached over and rubbed the material between her thumb and index finger. “Is this uncomfortable at all?” Camille asked, her eyes narrowing the slightest bit. “It doesn’t look very comfortable, honestly.” The practically paper-like material had always irked her. She didn’t like seeing it on Aaron, especially when she knew that there was a gaping wound in his chest right underneath.

Though he hadn’t really expected Camille to snuggle up against him again, it’s certainly a pleasant surprise. Without thinking, he rests his head against hers when she lays against his shoulder, smiling faintly as the arm wraps around him. “Life’s no fun without a gamble now and then anyway.”

He tilts his head slightly to look down at the gown, using the shoulder she wasn’t laying on to give a one-shouldered shrug. “I’ve worn worse.” The fabric is rough against his skin, but not enough that he can’t merely ignore it. It would probably be more of an issue to him if he was up and moving around more, and for the time being he’s content to stay laying down. “It ain’t that bad, really.” At least his injury was protected from the fabric.

“Alright then,” she shrugged, deciding to brush it off. Maybe she could pick up some of his clothes later. The shirt she was likely able to fix, but it would still seem a bit awkward to wear for him, however. She would have let him borrow something, but her still existent bits of common sense told her that he wouldn’t don it proudly, exactly. And she wouldn’t blame him.

“How much longer do you think you’ll have to be here?” Camille asked in a quieter voice, more serious. She glanced away from him, feeling a pang of guilt hit her right in the chest. This is all my fault. But she still clung to him, and she believed that that was because she was selfish and needy, that she wanted him to be there anyway because she didn’t want to lay there without him, that it would be worse for her if he were to be gone. And she felt so selfish for feeling that.

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(Source : theladymonaco)

thefallenbritishempire:

“How do you mean?” He set the tray on the bed, pouring the tea into cups for both of them. “Must there be an occasion?” sure, he used nicer cups than he would normally, but they weren’t his best set. If it were just him he’d probably have a large mug. Then again, he’d also probably be stocking up on caffeine and have a strong black tea in there so he could work. He rarely used tisanes like this, because they lacked the caffeine he needed to work and function. Still, at night these were better. 

Sitting next to her on the bed, he sipped his cup. “I hope you don’t mind, it’s chamomile with just a hint of mint.” he’d gotten the chamomile ages ago as a gift, and he’d noticed that adding a sprig of mint from the garden always turned out nicely so he picked dried those every spring for using in his tea. 

“Well, there doesn’t have to be,” she murmured, raising her shoulders a little sheepishly. It just seems very nice is all. She didn’t think of it much more as he poured the tea and she got a nice whiff of it. Tasting it would be even better. She took her cup, letting it rest on a saucer on her knees.

“Oh, no, I don’t mind at all.” What’s to mind? Camille took a generous sip, closing her eyes for a moment and simply enjoying the minty warmth run down her throat. She let her head rest on his shoulder. “Thank you,” she murmured, stifling a yawn. “For everything. For letting me sleep here that first nightshe let out a short, nervous laugh“and this night, too. And for taking me to the Museum, and for the books, and for going on the boat, and the restaurant, everything.” Camille wasn’t sure why she was bringing this up now, perchance she was just tired.

She kissed his cheek, her lips lingering on his skin for a moment before finally drawing back.

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“Iron Man is one of my favorites!” he responded happily, pleased that they shared the interest in the same movie. He turned the corner and smiled when he found the living room; it was too late in their relationship to actually get lost inside her house.

“And of course I’m strong. I work out. Just for you, babe.” He kissed her cheek and then settled her on the couch. “Real Steel is with Hugh Jackman, right?” Yeah, he remembered that one. “Can we watch it? Is it in the cabinet-thing? I wanna see it again!”

Camille grinned, kissing the top of his head now that she could reach it. “That’s the one,” she chimed. “Here, I’ll get it. Couch is right there.” Once her feet touched the ground, she glided over to the cabinet-thing, picking out the desired movie and putting it in. She handed Alfred the remote, turning back to the kitchen when she heard the stove claim that it was done preheating with a few loud beeps.

She quickly crossed over to the kitchen, popping the pizza in, setting the time, and moving back to Alfred, cuddling into his lap and laying down. After planting a quick kiss on his lips, Camille turned her gaze to the TV, her thumb subconsciously tracing along his skin while she watched.

(Source : theladymonaco)

princessofvaduz:

theladymonaco:

“We have a drizzle thing in the refrigerator!” Camille chimed, grinning. “These cookies can be the bestest cookies there ever was.” She rambled on while adding little things to the sides of the threaded hoop.

“I’mma put things on the sides,” she mumbled, hooking little beads on strings and tying them onto their respective sides. After finishing, she held it up in the air, letting out a cry of victory. “It’s beautiful!” Camille exclaimed, grinning.

“A drizzle thing?” Lili repeated before understanding herself. “I’m sure they add to the cookies.” She smiled, watching the girl grin as she finished. “You did a fantastic job Camille, it’s very beautiful.” 

“Yeah, you use the drizzle thing to drizzle stuff on the cookies,” she explained, nodding in showing her own comprehension of the drizzle thing.

“Thank youuuuu,” she grinned, dancing a little in her seat. “I’mma hang this one up above the first one. Camille nodded again, scrambling out of her seat to tie it to the wall. “Papa put in another nail and another above these, just in case I wanted to make any more.” She sat up on her knees on the bed, taking a minute to tie the string to the nail. “There.”

ask-terrasigma-america:

He was pretty sure he knew what methods she was referring to. She wasn’t very subtle when it came to sex, and that was one of the many things he liked about her; she knew what she wanted, when she wanted it, and how she wanted it. And, personally, he knew the same (though he was too prideful to come right out and ask about it sometimes).

“Well,” he started, raising his eyebrows up at her. “I think I would feel very pleased if you, um, enlightened me on this…effective method.” He glanced pointedly down at her finger on his belt loop, then looked back up at her and smirked. “‘Cause I’m pretty sure I might have done this method once or twice before.”

“Perfect,” she murmured, trailing kisses down the side of his face and down to his neck. Her lips wandered around on his neck, trying to find the spots that she would get the most reaction from. She moved both hands down and towards his zipper, quickly undoing anything that would keep his pants on. Once done with that, she went to unbuttoning his shirt, undoing all the clasps and propping him up a bit to get rid of his shirt.

Camille figured that she would take the lead this time around, since he had been having a bad day and all. Unless, of course, he felt the need to later on. She wouldn’t protest. Running a hand down his now bare chest, she continued to nip and suck at his neck as her hand slipped under the hemline of his boxers, her fingers simply tracing around his base teasingly. Camille smirked against his skin, slowly inching her hand towards where she knew he wanted her hand to be until he gave her some sort of noise.

(Source : theladymonaco)

+ reblog
original: allthingseurope
via: vonlipwigs
allthingseurope:

Musée Gustave Moreau, Paris (by ►bEbOpix)

ask-terrasigma-america:

When she laid down beside him, Alfred turn his head to smile at her. He wrapped his arm across her shoulder, listening as she spoke. “Oh.” No period? Well, then, that was a waste of money. But at least she would be able to use it for later. He was still a bit confused from the whole pregnancy thing, though, and he decided it would be better to not ask too many questions

“Nah, don’t apologize. I did tell you I’d come and see you, and then I was trying to just blow you off.” He shrugged her shoulders, then reached over to kiss her forehead. “Personally, I’d love it if you did all my paperwork for me. But, since that won’t happen…” He laughed, shaking his head. “Man, I really don’t know. What do you suggest to ease my stress?”

Yeah, I’m pretty sure your boss will be able to tell if it was you who filed all this work, she thought, faintly smiling. There was a way to tell it all apart, right? Ah, I should know this. For some reason, she couldn’t think straight. Who knows, maybe being a girlfriend was supposed to be tiresome. At his question, she lifted an eyebrow, thinking for a moment. With a sly glint in her eyes, she gently lay the lilac on the bedside table, then turning so she was practically on top of him.

“Well,” she started, suppressing a grin. “I have suggestions. But some methods…” Camille’s voice trailed off for a few seconds as she let a finger trace down his side and hook around one of his pants’s belt loops, “are more…” a slight tug on the loop, “effective…” a glance back up at Alfred, “than others.” And she wasn’t lying; sex was supposed to be very effective in forgetting about your worries for a while and feeling real good (if done right, which he knew very well that she could easily do).

(Source : theladymonaco)

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