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I've fallen in love with your mind. With your thoughts.
This is beautiful.
Oh, and if you sent me a message or request, I have seen it and I will post a response as soon as I can. I have been caught up showing our visitors from Ireland around. I’ll be back soon.
(Sooner than usual, promise.)
“Reynard would make an excellent Seeker,” she says calmly as her cat flings himself around the kitchen, jumping and spinning and desperately reaching for whichever miniscule insect has caught his attention this time. He breaks three glasses and knocks over a box of cereal in the process. She sips her tea. Serenely.
Uhm How about one sorta based on "Dollhouse" By Melanie Martinez??
This was supposed to be a drabble…
It is set in the 1880s and it deals with an abusive family through the eyes of a child. I’ve added it to the ‘Inspired’ collection.
Gilbert laughed and darted around his father. He swung his brother behind him and ran between the servants and his nursemaid.
"Gilbert," his father reprimanded sternly. "Behave."
He skidded to a stop and straightened his cap with impatient fingers. He grinned sheepishly.
"I will. Jus’ excited, s’all."
"And enunciate, child.”
He cleared his throat.
Gilbert watched the servants stream past them with boxes and chests and piles of linens before redirecting his attention to the cobblestone street. It was lined with neat, trimmed houses and gas lanterns. Men and women and even other children bustled around them. He had never seen anything like it. It was amazing.
They had lived in a country estate since Ludwig was a baby and he had no memories of the city. It was bigger than he had imagined. Brighter.
He might even make a friend.
My cat perched on the dashboard as we drove home this evening and I serenaded him with ‘A Whole New World' the entire time.
And in that moment, I remembered why I am single.
Matthew with stubble.
This is definitely something I can get behind.
Prussia turned over and blinked at their alarm.
It flashed oh five hundred in step with his sluggish heartbeat. Shit. Canada was going to smother him. He hated it when Prussia woke up before sunrise.
He could not help it. He was old man and an older nation and he had trouble sleeping for more than a few hours at a time.
He rolled over again and tried not to jostle the other nation. His blonde curls were spread across the pillow in a hopeless mess, knotted on one side, and the tip of his nose was pink. He snuffled. It was almost cute.
But his cheekbones and jawline were coloured with stubble and it shattered the illusion.
Prussia flushed and touched himself through the bedsheets as he remembered how that stubble had felt pressed against his inner thighs. The scratch of it against his stomach. The way his kisses had burned.
Canada shaved when Parliament was in session and for conferences but when he was at home… When it was just the two of them… Ah, well, sometimes he let himself go.
Prussia liked it.
He liked it when he yawned and tripped over his trailing housecoat and nursed a cup of tea on the steps.
And he liked it when he smiled, placid and unperturbed and peaceful, and the stubble highlighted the corners of his mouth. It made him smile too.
“I can hear you smirking, jackass,” Canada mumbled without opening his eyes. “Stop it. It’s obnoxious.”
Prussia laughed and shuffled closer.
“Later. I’m tired. It’s ridiculously early, isn’t it?”
Prussia reached out and threaded their fingers together and Canada pulled him even closer. He studied the freckles on his shoulders.
“Sorry,” Prussia hummed softly. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”
He kissed his collarbone.
“S’okay. I know.”
They watched the sun rise together.
I hate it when I notice how pretentious and precocious I actually am...
MAPLEVOGEL! YOUR PACKAGE CAME! I HAVE IT CLUTCHED IN MY TREMBLING HANDS!
AND I LOVE IT!
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