An artist carries on throughout his life a mysterious, uninterrupted conversation with his public.
An artist works in mysterious ways.
Whether they'll reveal themselves or let the world find out themselves.
Well, 'ello there.
France x Reader - Happy Halloween FunThe day of Halloween has come and you were just thrilled this day had finally come. Before the days of this event, you planned to become the most awesome house in the neighborhood. The house with the baked good treats, candies, and even toys. All the children will be chatting about your house. You just knew it. That's why you bought and stock and prepared for the event. Now that day has come, you were ready.France x Reader - Happy Halloween Fun by mysteriousscribbler
"Ok, let's see.
Bowl of candies. Check.
Monster Cupcakes to follow the occasion. Check.
Eyeball gummies. Check.
Witch finger lollipops. Check.
Little fun toys. Check.
The extra extra stock just in case I run out which will never happen. Check.
I am so ready. Bring it on children of the neighborhood!"
When saying those words, your door bell rang loudly, making you flinch and jump a little.
"AHH! Oh, the door. Yay!" you sputtered out, realizing that someone was at your house to do some trick-or-treating. "Hell-"
" Mwahhh! Trick or treat, mon cheri!"
England x Reader - The Cook OffEngland x Reader - The Cook Off by mysteriousscribbler
"________! Are you ready to make some of the most amazing scones you will ever try in your life?"
Sitting in your British friend's kitchen, hearing about baking scones, you broke into a fake smile.
"Oh yes, Arthur!" you replied sarcastically.
Frankly, you really didn't want to do this. You didn't want to bake those dreadful treats of which your friend would always bake that marked 'DEATH' all over them, but it was practically your fault, since you agreed to come over to his house and bake scones with him. You've seen over the world conferences you've attended that everyone tries to avoid them at all costs. Even America told you from experience that they tasted like petrified couch stuffing, but you ignored the comment anyway and tried one whenever England offered you one. When you tried one, World War 3 began in your body and it was hell.
"Well, let's get started! Shall we?" he answer to you cheerfully as he ventured through his kitchen shelves.
"Well, ummm .
France x Reader - Loving Hate - Part 3France x Reader - Loving Hate - Part 3 by mysteriousscribbler
"Ok...let's see if I got this down. New guy. His name is Francis Bonnefoy. He's French and from France. Everyone admires him. Flirts with all the girls and is obnoxious. For the rest of the school year, you have to sit by him and you're partners with him for everything, but you refuse to get along with him, but he wants to become friends with you, but you still refuse. Now he gave you roses, but you said 'No, that won't do' because roses can't just make you go, 'Of course, Francis! Now let's become the best of friends and skip towards the sunset', but that only made him try more, so he gave his butler named Jeeves to you, which who is now going to live with us and do anything to your every whim. Also now the entire school district even possibly everyone in town knows about you and him...Is that about right?"
"That pretty much sums it up."
Right after, after you left Mrs. Byarries's room, rumors and gossips of you and Francis already flooded across the entire school. As you roamed throu
PrussiaxReader - Somebody that I used to know - P2PrussiaxReader - Somebody that I used to know - P2 by mysteriousscribbler
"Gilbert! Give it back! C'mon! It's not funny anymore!"
"Ha ha ha! I'll never give back your weapon!" he proclaims from the tops of a tree. "Ha ha h-! ___-___________? Are yo-you okay?" he says as he sees you crouch down, leaning against the tree, with your head to your knees, sniffling.
"___________! Fu- Shit! I didn't mean to make you cry!" he says to you as he begins to climb down from the tree to you. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Really! Here! You can have your sword back!" He says holding the piece of metal in front of you.
"...Really?" you whimpered at him.
"Yes, really , _______-"
"What the fu-"
"Well, thank you for returning my weapon" you cried as you handled your sword in your hand as you pressed your foot against him from rising from the ground. "I can't believe you believed my fake tears and sniffles. Oh, Gilbert, you are so gullible." You smirk and laugh at him.
"Well, I don't think so!"
Just as he said those words, you we