#malchikswan

[clumsyprima]

✧❤✧ "Errm…-" What were people doing here? Hadn’t Mr. Cat specifically said that she was to clean the practice room’s floor all by herself? And speaking of clean, they were this close to stepping on the expanse of wooden flooring she had just polished to a glossy shine…!!!

           "P-Please don’t step any further I just cleaned up there…-!!! GAH!"

                Realizing that she had just yelled, the girl was quick to clamp hands over her mouth, face a little flushed with embarrassment over her outburst. After a moment her mouth was released and she was quick to blurt out:

                 “I’m sorry about yelling like that it’s just that I had just finished cleaning that part of the floor and that took me forever to do and I have to polish all of the floor before Mr. Cat gets back or else I’ll get into more trouble AND THEN HE’LL HAVE ME MARRY HIM. And I don’t want that and oh no I yelled again didn’t I and I’m still talking aren’t I? Ahahahaha I’m sorry sometimes I just can’t stop talking and -  SHUT UP AHIRU.”

                    And shut up she did.

[fraildesign-archive]

an angel o u o

oh my goodness that is actually perfect a;sdfkj i wANT TO DRAW THIS

i want her to be an angel for halloween now omg ; u ; ahhh she woud look so pretty and beautiful a;sdlfkja /fLAILS

[wolfskinnedxdoe-archive-blog]

✦; "Hey, Nikki," cue the photographer popping out of the blue. "Gotcha something."

[cirocchiomoved]

"you're so.... like toothpick"

O-

                  —Okay...?

[t-estube--s-oldier]

malchikswan - rnortify - leithleach

                               The manmade tool sat in the cafe, heavy rain outside. He was sipping on coffee, missing the days when his empire was at its prime. Not his empire, really -- more like a sanctuary. A longstanding place of communism, shining brightly in his war-torn eyes. The TV was playing something on chemical warfare, and he vaguely wondered why Russia hadn't turned him in as a chemical weapon for disposal once he was no longer of their use. Perhaps because he was a normal boy at one point, perhaps they planned to use him again. He glanced up from his hot chocolate and settled his gaze on the figure who sat before him. How did he get there? When? Getting lost in his thoughts was really dangerous. "Privet." The greeting was informal, but in his home language. He cleared his throat, trying to make sure his accent wasn't to heavy, but when he spoke, it was pretty thick. "You need something, dude?"

[mortiuum-archive]

+ 3

          Something about the weather calmed her nerves, leaving her fair features rather still as opposed to shaken, contorted with discomfort of foreign interaction. Alabastrine hues gazed upon the stranger approaching, queries silently inaudibly muttered within the confines of her cranium. One, however, managed to escape her champagne tiers.

          "Can I help you?"