#2p Prussia | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

my2phetaliaheadcanons · 27 days ago

Note

I am not exactly sure if your request are open or this account is abandoned because I don't wanna bother.. But how do 2p Prussia, 2p America, 2p Italy, 2p Canada to their darling s/o walking around, talking by themselves and running around when their alone, especially listening to music and do that.. People usually called it maladaptive daydreaming?.. And I again I'm sorry if I bother you

+ This comment: Oh if you don't know maladaptive daydreaming.. You can search it on google, maladaptive daydreaming is usually caused by mental health issue

Ah! I’ve heard of this, and I relate to a lot of the symptoms. Honestly, the process helps me with a lot of my writing, but I’ve never really had it overtake my life.

And you’re no bother hun! Also, as long as the ask box is open you can submit until your heart’s content (this goes for everyone!). Adult life sometimes makes it hard to be consistent with my writing. Even though life’s made it tough, it just takes longer than I thought. Which I am sure we all understand.

Also, if you ever want, you are welcome to ask me questions, or just check in on my status. I don’t consider them the same as a request/ask. Honestly, I’ve always wondered if I should share the menu of questions. Like the ones of lists where people request a number/shape/phrase from a menu of questions and the author answers them.

Note: (F/Br) = Favorite Brand

Anyways on to the event~

(Y/N)’s head rocked to unheard music as she moved through the house. A large basket, full of dirty clothes, was in hand as she muttered to herself. Like a plane on autopilot, her legs took the barefoot woman down the hidden, wooden stairs toward the basement.

With her mind lost to the clouds, she was unaware of the encroaching shadows. One that slunk along her walls and blended in with her home’s hidden corners.

The man’s ears were perked, eager to pick up on her muttering as he remained out of sight; but as he tried to make out each, exact word, all he could do was scrunch his face in confusion. She was uttering pure nonsense. Curiosity continued to knock at his brain, as he realized the muttering and occasional grunt sounded like someone in a fight. Part of him wondered if she hated laundry. Or was she somehow hurt, that a mere load of laundry caused her body to ache so, maybe she was complaining about that event? Perhaps, during the hours he had left her, someone said something to piss her off and to alleviate the feeling of failure she was repeating the moment but with her winning?

Brushing off the momentary flare of anger at the possibility of something going wrong, he decided to stalk closer. His presence unnoticed as he fell in line with the darkness to follow the woman further into the unfinished basement.

Remaining between the darken beams of an empty corner room, the man watched as she bounced past the laundry room. He choked down the chuckle that threatened to bubble out as she seemed to forget what chore she was doing. He watched as her quirked lips and blink of confusion reminded him of a puppy denied a bone via a simple magic trick. But after a moment she stepped backwards and moved inside to complete the chore.

For hours, he watched from the dark places of (Y/N)’s home as she continued in what he could only call her own wonderland. Little sounds and words came from her as she auto piloted her way through the evening. Each of her movements could only be described as light and spacey.

Soon enough, (Y/N) had finished her day. Her head hitting the cold pillow and slowly giving up consciousness in return for a more vivid fantasy as she cuddled her blanket close.

As her breath settled into sleep’s pattern. The man left the shadows and stood over (Y/N). He looked down, his eyes softened by worry as he brushed away her hair.

The whole day. She had not noticed him once. Not even reacting to the feeling of his eyes tracing her form.

Oh, what to do with her.

HIS.

SWEET.

LITTLE.

OBLIVIOUS.

ALICE.

Prussia: Once again, (Y/N) moved on autopilot. Her mind lost to wonderland as she cleaned the front room windows. A dance to step as her inner adventure rose closer to its climax. Ignorant of the eyes on the outside.

“Another day, another fantasy”. thought Wilhelm as he watched her from his dark Audi. His thumb tapped along the steering wheel as he bobbed to her beat. Waiting for her.

Waiting for the next point of her set schedule. The subconscious pattern he had identified weeks earlier. The key to bringing Maus home was a simple afternoon walk.

His cornflower orbs flitted to the car clock. The neon numbers changed to fourteen hundred. At its brief flicker, to signify the change of the hour, Wilhelm looked back to the house.

(Y/N) opened the white door, and Wilhelm felt his heart stop. Her beauty alone froze the breath within his lungs.

The summer sun reflected off her (H/C) locks and the (F/C) headphones helped create a beautiful halo. Her eyes were refreshing pools of (E/C) that offered relief from the ruthless heat. The baggy, mesh, basketball shorts and simple graphic tee made her seem like an angel failing to blend in with mortals.

To view her so openly felt like a sin. But Wilhelm couldn’t ignore the serpent’s call. Not when the house had been prepared, and the wedding planning was in the final stages.

No, he thought as she walked past his car. Not when her mental wonderings made it so easy for him to snatch her away.

He opened the car door. Following the distracted woman down the suburban running trail.

Not when he could make his own daydreams a reality.

America: Over the next few weeks, (Y/N)’s mind continued its wandering. Those mental walks felt like a summer, sun-dappled path as she made her way through the elaborate stories. After all, they prevented a dull moment and allowed her to complete her days and tasks while tranced.

It was perfect.

If only you didn’t ask Allen.

On each visit to her home, he was ignored. His presence was treated as nothing more than a fly on the wall. Allen would agree that it was nice, it allowed him to get closer. To be bolder in his actions.

Even with all he learned and all he was able to do, it wasn’t enough. The information lacked intimacy. The kind where Allen could slide into (Y/N)’s life. To build a bond that would take them from friends to a couple, and finally end with marriage.

Just him and her. Forever.

If she wasn’t so damn lost within her own mind.

The process of focusing her hazy eyes on him would take too long if he went the organic route. No, he wanted her attention.

And.

He.

Wanted.

It.

Now.

Italy: The grocery store bustled with life as (Y/N) pushed her cart forward. Her lazy stride as her upper body leaned on the cart handle. Her eyes felt that the world was so distant as she glanced along the shelves like her dedication to the dream prevented the world from coming into focus.

A sudden crash of zincified steel and a punch to the gut caused (Y/N) to choke as her lungs struggled to regain their air and her stomach to keep its contents down.

A groan mumbled its way through (Y/N)’s clenched lips as her mind caught up with reality. She had been wondering about the snack aisle for chips, but at its lack of (F/Br) and at her mental moment of failure, she decided to check the next aisle in case they were moved. Initially, there was no one at the aisle’s end that (Y/N) had seen, so she exited. But, like a teen driver with a brand-new cellphone, her glance up was not long enough.

“Non ci posso credere!”, came from the owner of the hand that was now rubbing her back. His gentle touch helped calm her body’s panic as she looked back at him.

(E/C) widened as a heavy blush warmed her cheeks.

He was handsome.

His copper hair that had the smallest hints of crimson in the highlights the shone like bloody pennies in the florescent lights. His eyes were the deepest pools of maroon that pulled at her brain like a siren’s song. A sharp nose that complimented the soft smile that crinkled the corners of his beautiful eyes.

Yet, her brain couldn’t ignore that something was off. Was it in the way he looked at her? Or the gentle, but tight grip on her arm? Either way, it made (Y/N) feel like she was viewing a shadow from above the water’s surface. That underneath lay a predator in wait, urging her to jump in. To embr-.

“Tesoro?” The man interrupted. “Are you alright?”

She ummed with a nodded as she scurried to collect her cart and stand straight. A stuttered “Yes” as she began to turn her cart away and after a silent moment of staring, an “I’m sorry” as her steps led her away from the attractive Italian.

(Y/N) should have looked back.

Because Luciano stepped forward. His voice was soft as he called for her to look back. It had enough power that only (Y/N) should have turned to look at him. To bless him with another conversation. To give him his anchor point into her life.

She should not have let her dreams dull her senses as her wondering took her around the aisle’s corner.

Because he frowned. A frown so deep that the creases pulled his lips downward. She was lost again. Not even thirty seconds after bruising her gut. Not allowing him the chance to smooth over the pain with the promise of pleasure.

Being ignored burned him. A blaze that flittered like black flames from his heart to his head with horrible ideas.

Ideas that concluded this ‘dream-walking’ could be trained out. Or at least, change them. Maybe, dreams that were filled with only him, could be a better anchor. Even if they would quickly become nightmares.

Canada: Large shelves were covered in books. Each varied in thickness, texture, color, and quality, but with one thing in common. They were all blank.

Matt’s scuffed hand reached for a leather bound, brown journal. He turned it over in his hands before flipping through the pages. It seemed sturdy. A book that could handle a lot of pages turning, folding, and writing, but he grimaced. Its paper was rated for matte, which was the standard.

“No.” He muttered. “It’s too light.”

His boot-clad feet carried him further into the book aisle of the art store. As he approached the end, his lilac eyes were drawn downward to a small, black book on the bottom shelf.

Gently, Matt picked it up. His hands carded through the paper and looked over its binding. This one was a lot stronger than the last. Pausing at the book’s middle he noted that it’s pages were tightly bound with glue and white tread that released the smell of glue as he closed it with a small slam.

‘One final thing’, he thought as he flipped the book over for it’s specs.

Hot Pressed Watercolor

‘Finally,’ He sighed as he tucked the book under his arm. ‘Now, all I have to do is finish her studio.’

With a nearly, unnoticeable pop in his step, Matt left the store.

After all, with one more thing checked off his list.

That meant he was one item closer to bringing (Y/N) home.

One more thing closer to a happy home with children.

And after all, (Y/N)’s dreams could mean happier children. All he has to do is encourage her to record.

#2p hetalia #2p headcanons #2p america #2p canada #2p italy #2p prussia #2p yandere #yandere hetalia #hetalia yandere #yandere #male yandere #reader insert

21 notes · View notes