A Century of Dreams (APH Steampunk Poetry)Cogs and gears are like the threads fine crocheting,A Century of Dreams (APH Steampunk Poetry) by Starbrite234
interwoven in the arteries of the heart of Frankfurt.
They are as commonplace as the people,
who sit in the cafes alongside the cobblestone roads;
Venturing about talk and gossip,
as the clicks and turns go about,
whilst the sounds of the world around them meld to become music.
Vati said once,
that a century of grandfather clocks lie silent in Römerberg.
Waiting with thin hands until the strike of noon,
to sing a symphony of beautiful metallic sound.
Those where the rare few sentences uttered that day,
that were clean of irritation,
and raw with intelligence and passion.
He also said that similarly,
I was his and Mutti’s cacophony;
a senseless melody of childish whims and loud laughter.
Mutti told us not to run late,
early in the morn of Monday,
as his lips met her proper cheek.
We whisked out the door into the brass and metal city,
as her small hands touched the warmth he had left behind.
It was here there that I like to
CafeTalia X Reader (Requests full)CafeTalia X Reader (Requests full) by 1Julivia
Hello, bonjour, buenos dias, guten tag, konnichiwa, ciao... Visit cafes from around the world as your favorite Hetalia character services you in their own special fluffy way. From Venice, to Paris, to a host cafe in Tokyo, or a teahouse in China, or in a New York style cafe too! Live out your travel dreams with the Hetalia cast!
"Welcome to Cafe Hetalia. May I take your order?"
North American Dishes
Hetalia X Reader 100 Watcher EventHetalia X Reader 100 Watcher Event by 1Julivia
You are in a pure white room. The ceiling was white, the walls were white, and the floor was white. And not just a regular white like in plastic paint, but the bright blinding white from white printer paper found in Xerox machines, as if you were standing in a box made out of huge sheets of paper. It almost didn't feel like a room, but empty white space.
As strange as it was, you felt light, and when you peered downwards at your clothes, you realized you were dressed in white garments that seemed to flow and sway with your movements, and seemed like a cross between a tunic, a dress, and a jumper. Upon closer inspection, the fabric wasn't cross stitched like most cotton, but made in a hexagon pattern of pieces of fabric. You were barefoot, but th
Seems you've found me....stay for some Timmies, eh?|
I am many things (as most people are). I am a writer, a storyteller, and artist, musician, etc.
I love to create, as well as laugh with people and share words with others.
My Nationality is Canadian, and in case you are even more curious, I am of German (Prussian) and
Dutch descent, of the (Liberal) Mennonite variety.