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Literature Text
Warning: I swear. Do I even have to say that anymore? Puhhhh... Swearing is good for you! So deal with it.
Matthew woke to the sounds of shoveling snow. He wondered if some kids were shoveling his drive for money. Well, he sure as hell wasn’t going to pay them, he thought, rolling over to find your warmth. Matthew shot up, finding you no where to be seen. “_____!” he called out, kind of worried. You never woke up before him.
There was no sound. Just the constant shoveling that was starting to grind against his last nerve. Throwing open the curtains he prepared to yell at whoever the hell it might have been to go away. But it was you.
He went down the stairs and out the front door. You didn’t hear him and kept on shoveling. “_____.” he said sternly.
“Hey, Mattie.” you said, not stopping.
Matthew frowned, “Don’t call me that.”
“Sorry, Mattie.” you said, grinning, but still not stopping.
He sighed, knowing he couldn’t win that one, “What the hell are you doing?”
“What the hell does it look like?” you asked, mimicking his tone, but leaving the grin on your face to show you weren’t angry.
Matthew was still really confused, “But why?”
“I might need to go somewhere.” you said, still shoveling.
He shook his head, “Why didn’t you ask me to?”
“I can do it.”
Matthew stepped closer to you, but stayed clear of your furious shoveling. “But you don’t have to, I would have.”
“You were sleeping.”
He grabbed your shoulder and you stopped and turned to him, “Why didn’t you wake me? How did you wake up before me?”
“I can’t sleep in the snow. It gets too quiet.” you said, observing your work. You were two thirds of the way done in clearing out the drive that had been entirely filled with about three feet of snow.
He was still baffled, “But why not make me do it?”
“I don’t want to be a nuisance, making you do something I can do perfectly well on my own.” you said, starting up again.
Matthew said, “But where would you need to go?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe to the emergency room if you decided to wrestle a bull moose, or a mother polar bear, or a full grown caribou.” you said, stopping to count off these likely scenarios on your fingers.
Matthew sighed, “Since all those are my fault, let me do the rest.” He reached for the shovel.
But you shook your head and moved back, “No, it could be me too. I could run out of milk, or have an urge to make waffles or pancakes or something and have to go to the store. Or I could slip on ice on the back steps and break my leg. Then it would be my fault. So I’ll finish, you go back to sleep.”
“Let me help, ______.” he said sternly. Then he sighed in relief as you sighed too and your shoulders once up in determination fell.
But then you just started shoveling again, saying with a smirk, “Then go get the other shovel, Mattie.”
“GOD DA-
fin.
Matthew woke to the sounds of shoveling snow. He wondered if some kids were shoveling his drive for money. Well, he sure as hell wasn’t going to pay them, he thought, rolling over to find your warmth. Matthew shot up, finding you no where to be seen. “_____!” he called out, kind of worried. You never woke up before him.
There was no sound. Just the constant shoveling that was starting to grind against his last nerve. Throwing open the curtains he prepared to yell at whoever the hell it might have been to go away. But it was you.
He went down the stairs and out the front door. You didn’t hear him and kept on shoveling. “_____.” he said sternly.
“Hey, Mattie.” you said, not stopping.
Matthew frowned, “Don’t call me that.”
“Sorry, Mattie.” you said, grinning, but still not stopping.
He sighed, knowing he couldn’t win that one, “What the hell are you doing?”
“What the hell does it look like?” you asked, mimicking his tone, but leaving the grin on your face to show you weren’t angry.
Matthew was still really confused, “But why?”
“I might need to go somewhere.” you said, still shoveling.
He shook his head, “Why didn’t you ask me to?”
“I can do it.”
Matthew stepped closer to you, but stayed clear of your furious shoveling. “But you don’t have to, I would have.”
“You were sleeping.”
He grabbed your shoulder and you stopped and turned to him, “Why didn’t you wake me? How did you wake up before me?”
“I can’t sleep in the snow. It gets too quiet.” you said, observing your work. You were two thirds of the way done in clearing out the drive that had been entirely filled with about three feet of snow.
He was still baffled, “But why not make me do it?”
“I don’t want to be a nuisance, making you do something I can do perfectly well on my own.” you said, starting up again.
Matthew said, “But where would you need to go?”
“Oh, I don’t know. Maybe to the emergency room if you decided to wrestle a bull moose, or a mother polar bear, or a full grown caribou.” you said, stopping to count off these likely scenarios on your fingers.
Matthew sighed, “Since all those are my fault, let me do the rest.” He reached for the shovel.
But you shook your head and moved back, “No, it could be me too. I could run out of milk, or have an urge to make waffles or pancakes or something and have to go to the store. Or I could slip on ice on the back steps and break my leg. Then it would be my fault. So I’ll finish, you go back to sleep.”
“Let me help, ______.” he said sternly. Then he sighed in relief as you sighed too and your shoulders once up in determination fell.
But then you just started shoveling again, saying with a smirk, “Then go get the other shovel, Mattie.”
“GOD DA-
fin.
Literature
2p!Canada x reader- yeah I'm badass (part 2)
~Next Day!(Cause I say so!)~
Nana was quiet the entire bus ride to school. Once you got off the buss, she immediately put her head down. You were starting to get pissed off because she wasn't telling you anything. Watching her in such a sad, depressed state really hurt you.
"Nana...dear", you began and smiled at her as you lightly pulled her over to her locker to talk. "Ok! That is it! You are going to open your damn mouth and tell me what the hell is wrong and who the hell is messing with you, whether you like it or not, go it! Now what's going on and I better understand your answer, missy"
Nana flinched once you started to yell at her. S
Literature
2p!CanadaXxXxReader
"Shut the fuck up, [Name]!" A dark haired man with a bat yelled.
"You shut the fuck up, Al! Don't you dare tell [Name] to shut up!" A blonde haired man with shades and a long curl yelled back.
"No one wants to fuckin' hear her sing!"
"I do~ Would anyone like a cupcake~?" A man with pink hair asked.
"You shut the fuck up too, Artie!"
"U-um...You guys?" The girl whose name was [Name] tried to speak up.
"Shut the fuck up [Name]!" They both yelled.
"This is a man's battle!"
"What part of you is manly!?"
"I'm gonna kill you, Mattie!"
The dark haired man, known as Al, swung his bat towards the blonde haired man, known as Mattie.
Mattie d
Literature
Mountain Dew and Anime (2p!Canada x Reader)
There are a bunch of swears here, so if you don't like swearing I wouldn't recommend it.
"Try and take my lunch money again you little bitch! I dare your ass to!" You yelled as you kicked the guy who had stolen your money. You slammed him to the ground and kicked him in the stomach. "I bet you want me to starve to death so I can stop kicking your ass!" Quite a feat since you were like 5 inches shorter than him and way lighter.
Matthieu watched from a distance in admiration. Damn, this tiny little thing beat up a guy three times bigger than her.
"Do you want me to stop? Huh? Bitch say something or I'm gonna keep going!" You yelled with anot
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I was shoveling this morning. In just a tee shirt. Man, I love the winter. We got about three feet of snow here yesterday, and I am LOVING it. In fact, I might go make a fort. Cuz reasons. Anyway, snow means meaningless 2p! drabble. Yep...
~
The 2p!s ownership confuse me... but they sure as hell aren't mine!
Know what? I've made a decision. Whenever I write for 2p!s, you belong to Oliver, and when I write for the regulars, you'll belong to Russia.
So you all belong to me, poppets.
~
The 2p!s ownership confuse me... but they sure as hell aren't mine!
Know what? I've made a decision. Whenever I write for 2p!s, you belong to Oliver, and when I write for the regulars, you'll belong to Russia.
So you all belong to me, poppets.
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GOD DA--