seen from Italy
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"You always appear -- distant, like you're plotting something." She observed the male, eyes narrowing a little. She was unsure of the male, having seen him a few times before but not spoken to him. She however, had heard of him, and his name had appeared on Lady Whistledown. "Are you deciding which lady to pursue next?" She mocked, a smirk on her lips. @svcretmccxrthy
Send 🌽 for our muses to go through the corn maze @hamishemerson
“Hey Hamish,” she said. “Want to take a stroll through the corn maze?”
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Bailey questioned with eyebrows raised.
@hamishemerson
11 or 16, and with Zachariah, Satori, Hamish, or Gryphon for a new muse switchup. Or if those muses are being picky since they've never played with Des, then 11 or 16 with whomever wants love at the moment!
[ this gif ]
The very moment Hamish walked into the shop, he knew he needed to help the poor baker out. Desmond had clearly fallen into a rut, his counter stocked with bland pastries and boring cupcakes. No, he needed the fae touch. So the next time Desmond found himself sighing and wishing he could find some inspiration, Hamish walked into his life and made his offer – and the baker’s busy shop was the absolute proof that the agreement had been accepted.
The fae sighed heavily, gray eyes heavily lidded as he peered up at Desmond. “Oh, m’love, that’s so good,” he purred, as Desmond slowly rolled his hips into him. “Don’ stop.”
"This is not what it looks like.” - Dean for ya boi
“So ye didn’ jus’ toss a canvas in th’ garbage an’ call it a disgrace?”
Tick tock tick. The sound drilled her mind, as pristine blue hues attempted to read the book before her. But the words just blurred, they made no sense as she read, it all seemed just thrown together; yet another puzzle to solve. Concentrate. She told herself over and over again, but no matter how hard she tried, it came to no avail. It wasn’t a sight problem, it wasn’t her inability to concentrate. It was all engrained in her mind, she just refused to see the clear picture. At times, she could be quite a lot like her father. Though, Isobel would refute about it over and over again. She wasn’t her father, nor her mother. She wasn’t like her sibling, she was her. Another being, with completely different ideals. In a heated moment, Isobel shut the book close. The sound resonated through the entire room, creating a bit of attention, though many just went back to their daily life. All but one, of course. “Need something?”.
