The great American Architect created a dozen original masterpieces in Buffalo and its environs, many of which still stand today. Most of his works in Buffalo were private homes, the largest is the Darwin- Martin House near Delaware Park. It is a tri-structure home, now open as a public museum run by the University of Buffalo’s Architecture Dept. They are perfect examples of the Architectural style he created called the “Prairie Style” His private home in Pennsylvania called “Falling Waters” is more famously known but Buffalo has six of works.
Laura Ingalls Wilder, the “little house on the prairie” writer, was short. Like 4'10" or something. So when her husband built their house, he built and customized everything to her size so she’d be comfortable.
And that is the most adorable, romantic gesture I’ve ever heard.
A/N: This fic was one of my favorites and one of the most popular on my previous blog, so I decided that it would be a good idea for it to be the first fic I post, so… I hope you enjoy!
Prompt Used: Person A nuzzling into Person B’s neck because they’re cold and tired, and Person B m e l t i n g.
Word Count: 400+
Coffee was the only thing keeping you alive at the moment, a large cup of it next to your laptop as you rapidly typed something into the search bar will glancing from the small stack of papers beside you and the screen. Eraser and Pencil shavings were scattered around your desk and even on the floor, a single pencil sitting atop of the papers, clear that it was used and abused many times.
You were too into whatever was on your screen you didn’t hear the bedroom door squeak open and your boyfriend step in. Jason half expected you to be passed out of your bed with the book ‘Little house on the prairie’ half open and on your chest, however, this wasn’t much of a surprise either.
“Y/N… It’s 1 am, go to bed…” Jason gently laid his hands on your shoulders and peered over you to look at the screen, skimming over the small words before reaching over and closing the lid, picking up the cup of coffee and moving to place it on the bedside table. You snapped back into reality and slowly turn to face your lover, muttering a few words you couldn’t even make out.
Jason chuckled at your tired and dazed behavior, dropping down onto the bed perching himself up as he motioned for you to lay next to him. It took you a second, slowly standing from the small, uncomfortable stool at your table and stretching out the tight knots in your back, a relieving feeling rushing throughout your body with the sound of your back cracking. Jason couldn’t help but cringe at the sound, a shiver running down his spine even at the thought.
“…When did you get here?” you mumble while stumbling towards the shared bed and slowly straddling your boyfriend’s thighs, hearing the quiet hiss of pain slipping past his lips, “Rough night?” You question.
Jason only nodded, leaning up and brushing his rough, chapped lips against your soft ones, hands being placed on your hips pulling you closer against his body as his arms slipped around your waist.
You pull away from the kiss with a quiet hum of satisfaction while gently leaning against his bruised body, your head nuzzling into the crook of his neck and shifting to a more comfortable position. Peppering light kisses against his neck as you mumble inaudible words, feeling his grip tighten around you.
Your eyes slowly shut as you press against Jason with your arms wrapping around his waist and gently squeezing. Drifting off rather quickly into blackness to the relaxing feeling of Jason running his hands through your hair, untangling any knots that he seemed to come across.
Everything seemed to be slowly fading, the relaxing feeling, the soft sound of Jasons breathing, the light peeking through your curtains from the moon. All so slowly, as you fall asleep comfortably against your beaten and bruised boyfriend.
I became a nun to avoid my crush and all we did (as nuns) was rereading Little House on the Prairie and eating one pear every day. Seven years passed until we were finally allowed to go outside of the monastery, which was a one room church made completely out of cobblestones and lit by one fireplace, to visit the print shop next door. A red haired nun liked the boy who worked at the print shop, but he was hitting on me instead. I decided to leave my life as a nun to watch a rat go down a sewer and run away from a snake.