simply smashing.
I FINISHED AVATAR THE LAST AIRBENT.
And I also just realized it's December 31st. While I skip having a time capsule moment, allow me to show appreciation in another form.
In celebration of finishing and this Happy New Year:a Prompt Quiz.FANDOM or GAME or CROSSOVER
pairing or platonic
NC-17 slash or Disney Grequest it. may be rewarded with a ( Read more... )
And I also just realized it's December 31st. While I skip having a time capsule moment, allow me to show appreciation in another form.
In celebration of finishing and this Happy New Year:a Prompt Quiz.FANDOM or GAME or CROSSOVER
pairing or platonic
NC-17 slash or Disney Grequest it. may be rewarded with a ( Read more... )
There was still only gravel where they met, in between the anti-tank slabs and paths where wild dogs had been let loose, in between the two fighting forces - the single fighting force, up against the double walls, tearing, shredding, destroying, joyous. East claimed he was toasting it all, green bottle see-through from the distant street lights, and West nearly bit his tongue when grey-white-not-blond hair shoved itself under his chin.
"Keh, keh, they thought this'd hold up forever, y'know? Goddamn, almost want t' thank that Hungarian monster--"
The blond pushed at the albino's shoulders, ever aware of the increasing grip around his midline. A few moments ago, it had been nearly suffocating, and he wasn't one for dying, not when the sun was setting like in one of Amerika's movies, or what Japan always spoke of.
"-- Thank y' first, though, West."
There's more saliva and teeth than an actual kiss placed sloppily along his jaw line, but there's a certain glow to the Nation's eyes, a sheen across the black and red that might be rolling down his cheeks to the edge of his chin; and gravel is uncomfortable to be pinned to, even with a fine buzz around the mind, but West finds that at least he can grip back without the threat of broken ribs or having to acknowledge the fact that his grasp is slipping.
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hey hey hey hey
please sir a little more prompts if you have any.
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kjdslf
Russia/Kuma B(
A LITTLE TOO MUCH LOVE. You saw that picture, right?
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...
I DIDN'T. D8 /so sleepy right now aksjgn link?
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there
And after that-- Prussia/America -- TRAINING MONTAGE; since Prussian military dropped in on colonial times in order to whip his army's ass into action. srs.
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He'd watched, oh yes, he'd watched before approaching, and when he did approach, there had only been big black eyes staring up at him around a mound of fur. No fear. No disdain. No rebellion.
One gentle pat between the ears, and no flay of aggression.
Two skritches under the chin got the bear to sit, but still no anger.
Three strokes along the spine found him crouching down, the animal sprawling a bit with a loud murmur. (He'd hesitated, then, paused and made sure that things were alright, but they were!)
So he'd continued.
A dozen of each of those motions later, and the world was at peace, despite the blizzard outside and ice crawling under the door, shadows tearing apart his house from festering too long under the moldy, peeling paint that Toris had said he'd cleaned but obviously hadn't because Russia knew that
hugging it made it even better, the frostbite finally edging fully off his nose when he pulled it up to his face, buried in a warm white instead of a cold one. And things were still alright, even though there was a bit of pressure on his arms to get him to let go.
Or to hug tighter?
Ah! What a good bear, telling him what to do to make them both more comfortable-- but when he tightened his hold, there was a displeased rrrowr, followed by swipes at his arms that were most definitely not helpful. In fact, they almost hurt.
His hopes plummeted, though he kept up a smile. Perhaps the bear was confused at the small change.
So he closed his arms tighter.
A fiercer rrowr that sounded more like a raaaggr!, more squabbling against his arms (which were perfectly made to keep people in), some sort of stuttering noise, and then no struggle once more. See, it had worked. Now the bear was back to being the most perfect comforter, without a single hate against him.
He'd grow disappointed, later on, when the bear went cold, but the fur was forever warm.
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aaa your russia khlvkchkhl
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"Technicalities? Why are you getting into techni-"
Because neither of them were nations and this was a devil's bet. Prussia made sure to kick some of the ground-up mud in "America's" face, just to make sure he knew what exactly was being risked with this all. By the way the kid sputtered and paused in his push-ups to whip at his eyes, he probably didn't realize a thing.
With von Streuben yelling in the background, though, Prussia had to kick his foot back and realize (again), well, he was a mercenary. King's orders, but the King could be the serf in the next moment or so.
So, no. It didn't actually matter too much at all.
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♥
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"I-- I am! I'm doing everything you said-"
"Do it better."
Grit teeth, the intake of breath and beat of feet; an undignified yelp and slide through the mud.
"I said better, idiot, not worse."
A snarl, another rush - this time, a fall without the yelp, but still a fall.
"Didn't you hear m-"
"- I heard you, alright? I heard you fine! I just can't--"
He'd been standing again, frustrated, angry, and a hand closed around his jaw, two fingers poised on the sensitive part under it, freezing him. Red eyes were smirking.
"Yeah, you can't. With me, though, you're going to anyway."
They both fell- tumbled, really, growling and snarling and laughing, blue coat turning brown with muck, and every single time, Prussia comes out on top.
The one time he doesn't is the day that Old Fritz calls von Streuben and him back, but there's no sliding in the mud then.
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Oh, Colonimerica, you really are hopeless +^+//
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