LSJ12345

Ponytail [2P!Canada||Matt Williams]            “A-Are you sure you wanna do this, Mattie?” you asked quietly. You had scissors poised around your boyfriend’s cute little ponytail, he was determined to have it hacked off.              “Yeah, I’m sure. Just cut it off already,” he grunted, you heard the wooden stool he was on groan as he dug in his fingers.            Your hand with the scissors twitched, you really didn’t want to do this. You loved his silky, dirty blonde hair how it was. You thought he did too, what triggered the sudden change of heart? You pulled the scissors away and sighed, &#

She stared at the white canvas, the luscious feeling consuming her. It was so… Open. Free. The whiteness meant in its lack of color all what the painting could be. In all its shapes, textures, themes, concepts, colors and emotions. Oh, yes, an unpainted canvas was all that and so much more. It was a constant plead to release its hidden figure that lied just under a thin surface. And [f/n] craved for that. After all, it was the easiest way to reach her so loved freedom. With deep red soaking her hands and all the way up to her elbows, the girl reeked of ink, kerosene and turpentine in her old and large clothes, [h/c] hair tied in a c

2p Canada shorts (2p!Canada x reader) Some dumb short things I wrote??? Idk --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Ticklish "Good morning," you greeted as Matt came into the kitchen, a yawn still leaving his mouth. He didn't answer but just leaned down and kissed your cheek. You smiled softly, putting a hand on his face to keep him close so you could properly kiss him on the lips. Your fingers brushed along his stubbly cheek for a moment before you pecked his lips again, "You need a shave, you're all tickly." You commented with a small smile, your hand falling away so he could m

You sat comfortably on the couch, reading a book that you had started a few days ago. As you read, you ran a hand along the curve of your belly, letting the life inside of you know you cared. There was a light push against your hand from a foot. You giggled while placing the book down on the couch. "Hello to you, too, little one," you spoke to the baby softly. Since Ludwig found out you were pregnant this past Christmas, he made sure that you and the baby were taken care of. If he saw you tire throughout the day, he'd coax you to the couch so you could rest. He'd talk to the baby while the two of you relaxed in the evenings, lightly stroking

You missed him. Oh, how you missed him dearly. You missed his sandy blonde hair, the way that one strand would stand up on its own, the way it would defy gravity and all naturally known physics. You missed his sky colored blue eyes, the way they would stare lovingly at you as he held you and nuzzled up to you. You missed his silver brimmed glasses, the way they would sparkle in the fresh sunlight of an autumn’s morning. You missed his smile, the way it would light up as he looked at me with such excitement and giddiness. You missed his body, the way his muscular arms would hold you as his pink lips would kiss yours, the way his chest wo

I woke up, a wedge of sunlight from the window pierced my eyes sharply and I ducked my head behind the white comforter.    After a while of blinking and a lot of persuading from my conscience, I finally sit up. Yawning, I looked at the red analogue clock standing on the bedside. It read, "8:03"    "Morning" A voice greeted and I looked up to see a half-naked Arthur leaning on the doorway with his slender arms crossed over his bare chest. His hair was wet, water dripped from the golden tips. A blue, scarlet and white towel hung on his shoulder. His dark-washed jeans was buckled with a black faux-leather belt.    "Morning... poppet" I rep

Its been six months. Six months since his last letter. Six months since you last communicated. Six months since he last said “I love you”. Six months since you had any proof he was alive. Six months. - - - - - - - Today was a day of celebration. The radio screamed it, the neighbors grilled it, the cars honked it, and everyone in America – everyone around the world – cheered it at the top of their lungs. From New York City and London to Warsaw and Moscow, the world was giving a breathe of relief because the war was finally over. Germany surrendered. Yet somehow, you would have never believed it if the radio an

It was an unnatural morning. It was quiet and peaceful. You could hear the birds chirping as your husband, Matthew Williams, and his family eating breakfast. Instead of Matt and Al fighting over the weirdest stuff, Matt ate his eggs, bacon, and pancakes glazed in syrup and Al ate his tofu eggs and bacon. Oliver wasn’t pulling out the swear jar every 5 seconds, he sat there, humming silently as he ate. Francis sat there reading the newspaper on a new murder in the neighborhood while taking long drags on his cigar. You leaned on the counter, eyes closed and drinking your coffee. Today was a good day, until- “_-_____,” spoke