‘m going to have fun with this.
The little climber is conquering Mt. Jones.
Kind of drew a scene from one of the best RusAme RPS I’ve done/am doing still.
Secret: I love doing this sort of shit.
I’m on omegle right now
I’ve got the witch trial AU with Russia, in the hetalia and RusAme tags, if anyone wants to find me.
I’m KINDA back from my hiatus. This morning, I passed out, and almost had to go to the ER. What I thought was a cold is actually really bad bronchitis, so I’ve been sleeping on and off. And I’m busy drawing other things, so I can’t draw responses just yet.
But here’s what I want you to do.
Use my OTP to break my heart, and I’ll write a drabble with the prompt/starter you give me.
I’m in a writey mood.
Hiatus will be over soon.
I’ll be back answering questions by December 28th!
For every RP blog owner who reblog this, I will draw their muses, no matter how many you have them on one blog
I will submit them to you at the day of 25th December
Just remember to have your submit box open
Anya buried her foot in the mattress, back arching, long hair tangled and splayed on the pillow. Alfred kissed her lips, her collarbone, her breasts, the swell of her stomach reverently like an apostle worshiping his goddess. He moved inside her long and slow and she gasped, eyes fluttering, breasts heaving with nipples erect like ample mountain peaks. Alfred groaned, snapping his hips in his inability to contain himself, and Anya caught her breath in her throat and giggled. "Alfred…"