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yougavemeyourheartyouknow · 7 months

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On thin ice (Hockey Player! Miguel O’Hara x Figure Skater! Fem! Reader)

Omg y’all, first I know i said I’d post this on Halloween, but… I couldn’t help myself! Second, the time has come… the last chapter😭. I just wanted to thank you all for reading and for all the support! It means a lot to me. The usual, not proofread.

(Y/N)- Your name.

Alcohol usage, mentions of cannabis, cursing, no smut but a small small smaaaall make out bit. Miguel finally learning to use his words.

Word count: 1.6k

Series Masterlist

Chapter 15 [Final]: Maybe I’m too busy bein’ yours to fall for somebody new.

—

It felt like you were in the opening scene of a cheesy 80’s horror flick. Psycho Killer by The Talking Heads was blasting through the frat house you were currently at, a red solo cup with spiked punch in one hand, and the other grabbing on to Kate’s hand while she dragged you through the crowd with a laugh, your purple cape swishing behind you as you make your way through the sea of drunk college students, all dressed up in different costumes.

Eventually you found yourself in the kitchen of the frat house, it was small and despite the only people in said kitchen being you and your group, it still felt a bit crowded but what room wouldn’t feel a bit crowded when you were tipsy from alcohol, and every room had either someone in a costume, Halloween decor, or both. You took a sip of your drink as you looked over at Xavier with an amused experience as he playing around with his collapsible staff he got for his costume, letting out a small laugh when he almost knocked over a spider decoration that was hanging off one of the kitchen cabinets, before he let out an embarrassed cough and sheepishly collapsed his staff. You knew that you shouldn’t have let Kate give him an item he could use as an actual weapon when he was going to be drinking.

You were dressed as Raven, Logan was beast boy, Kate and her boyfriend were starfire and Robin and Xiaver’s roommate who you couldn’t remember the name of was cyborg. You’ve got to admit, the cape was fun, and you were thankful that Kate didn’t force you and Logan to paint yourselves gray and green respectively. You 5 have been making your way down frat row for the past 2 hours at this point, hopping from one party to another, and were planning on leaving for the next one, but wanting to raid the candy basket and take a few beers for the road (aka, the 4 minute walk).

Tonight was great, a nice way to unwind after the absolute roller coaster of emotions you’ve been on recently, school was starting back up, skating practices have only been getting more intense as you and Logan practiced for sectionals, and you still had absolutely no idea what was going on between you and Miguel, despite the good terms you two have been on recently, you two would be relatively snarky with each other, but there wasn’t any underlying malice like there was before a few months ago. Your thought were pulled pulled out of your head and your hand was tugged and you found yourself following behind Kate and the rest of your group and you all exited through the back door in the kitchen, and makes your way to the next frat house, Logan unlocking the gate that separated the front yard with the back one.

As you entered the next party, the song Goo Goo Muck was finishing up before transitioning to The Create from the Black Leather Lagoon, both from The Cramps. Despite your best efforts, and both your and Kate’s tight grip on each other’s hand, you had found yourself becoming separated from a majority of your group and you wondered deeper into the crowd, the stench of alcohol and weed filling your senses as you felt Logan’s hand tightened on your shoulder, you had officially lost the others.

You and Logan decided to make your way up to the second floor of the house, wanting to see if there was a way to get out to the balcony that you saw on your way in, knowing that you’d get a good view of the night sky. Eventually you two did make your way outside on it, Logan leaning against the railing while you were sitting down on the floor, using your cape as a makeshift blanket to keep your ass from touching the wood. Both of you sipped on your stolen beers as you both talked.

“I think I saw your ex on the way up here.” You throw out the information to him nonchalantly, causing him to choke on his beer a bit, a hand coming up and patting on his chest to try and help regain his composure.

“Um, you-you did? Where?” He stuttered as he attempted to act normally, but you noticed as he straightened up a bit from his position against the railing.

“By the bathroom-“ you didn’t get to finish before he ran back inside, a heavy sigh leaving your lips as you were left alone outside, knowing it was better to not follow him and attempt to stop him. Taking a sip of your beer, your eyes drifted back to the night sky, how you wished you could actually see the stars, but due to all the light pollution that was only a simple wish, grabbing your cape and wrapping it tightly around yourself in an attempt to help warm yourself up, mentally cursing yourself for not wearing tights as you looked up at the gray night sky.

“¿Qué estás haciendo aquí solita, princesa?” A deep voice asked you from behind you. [What are you doing here all alone princess?]

“Hey to you too, Miguel.”

A silence fell over you two, before you heard his heavy footsteps make their way over to your direction, you didn’t glance over to look at him until you saw him entering your peripheral vision. Your lips pull up to a small smirk, a hmph leaving your mouth as you glance up at him, before you finally break the silence.

“A vampire? I was expecting more from you.” You teased with a snort, causing his to scoff in response, before moving to go sit next to you, which surprised you slightly but you decided not to say anything.

“I’m the phantom of the opera, and I don’t wanna hear it from you, (Y/N). What are you supposed to be? Some sort of witch?”

“No. I'm Raven from the teen titans! Ya know, the DC character?”

“Oh, sorry. All my superhero knowledge comes from Peter and he’s more of a Marvel guy-“

“I’m more of a Marvel person too and even I know who that is!”

“Well I’m not a nerd like you are.”

“Rude! Says the one dressed as a character from a musical.” You giggled with a scoff, and it wasn’t until your giggles subsided that you realized that you’ve two gotten closer in proximity during your little back and forth. You thought, maybe it was just you and the alcohol in your system, but when you noticed the sudden shift in Miguel’s eyes, and the way his Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he swallowed some saliva.

You both just sat there for a while, staring into each other’s eyes, neither one daring to move, afraid that if you did, the moment of tension between you both might disappear, so, for what felt like an eternity, you both just stared at the other. Eventually, you grained enough control over your body to open your mouth to say something, to say what? You weren’t sure, but before a single syllable could even leave your mouth, Miguel took the opportunity to lunge towards you and smash his lips into yours. Immediately, you melted into the kiss with a sigh, your hands going up and snaking around his neck before pulling him closer, causing a quiet groan to leave Miguel’s mouth. Small whimpers and moans escaping your lips as his rough hands landed on your exposed thighs, the goosebumps that were already forming on your legs became more prominent as Miguel slipped them down and onto your ass, giving your cheeks a firm squeeze, before pulling you into his lap. You let out a squeal as your hands drop down to his chest instead, your knees landing on either side of his hips, the thin cape of his phantom costume doing little to help cushion them from the hard cold wood of the balcony. Your head was swirling, both from the alcohol and the make out session, and it didn’t help that you could feel his bulge from where you were sitting straddled on top of him, he pulls away first, given you both a chance to grasp for air, before his head dips to begin peppering kisses down your jaw and neck.

God, you’ve never wanted this man more in your life then you did right now, and you know that Miguel was feeling the same way about you, but you both knew there was a better time and place for you to both succumb to those urges, so with a final kiss your neck he pulled away from you, you shift to sit on his thighs, both of your chest rising and falling rapidly in attempt to catch your breath. Miguel’s hand goes up to wipe some saliva and lipgloss from the corner of his mouth.

Once you were able to get yourself back under control, you cleared your throat before speaking.

“Look, Miguel. As much as I love making out with you on a bi-weekly basis, I don’t think I’m in a place, mentally for this to continue without at least knowing where we stand with each other. I-I don’t care if you only wanna be fuckbuddies, or make out buddies, or if you want to try for something serious-but I just want to know what you want.”

“I want you.”

“Can you be more specific?”

“I want all of you, (Y/N). I want you to be mine, and only mine, and I wanna be yours.”

—

Taglist: @tayleighuh @cowboylikeevie @coralineyouareinterribledanger @jukioku @loser-alert @miguel-ohara-eater @serpentstarr @littlexscarletxwitch @darksidescorner @sukioyakio @minimari415

#miguel o hara fanfic #miguel o'hara x reader #on thin ice fanfic #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 x reader #astv miguel #astv spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara au #figure skating au #hockey au #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 fanfic #spiderman 2099

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fixfoxnox · 6 months

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Okay, Luke's somewhat serious post time.

Okay, so recently I've been getting some comments on my Ao3 that have bothered me and I feel like we should talk about comment etiquette again along with some lines of comfort for me.

So first of all, this:

This is not how you ask for more of a fic that you like. I'm already beating myself up over how long its been since I've been able to update things, and having people comment stuff like this on my fics only makes me feel worse.

I am a real person. I have a job and I've been working hard on finishing some commissions that people have PAID me to write. Forgive me if I'm not making the things that I write for free for people in my free time my first priority right now.

I AM absolutely still working on these fics. I've been working on Pyre and some requests in my ask box, but since they aren't my main priority right now its going really slow. I could very easily abandon these fics, but I don't because I love them and I love you guys and writing for you guys. All that I ask in return is that you respect the time and effort that goes into writing these fics.

My 8k-10k fic chapters take like 8 hours to write AT THE LEAST. Like I can't just churn this out like crazy as much as I would like to.

I am fine with people asking if I'm still working on a fic, but not comments like this basically demanding an update.

The next thing:

These were all comments replying to one another on my fic. There are three people in this thread in total and of them, only one of them actually made a comment about my fic.

Two people commented on my fic to essentially have a completely unrelated conversation with someone in my comment section. This is extremely frustrating.

Listen to me, imagine being me and seeing a notification that I got a comment. I get super excited, only to click on it and see that it has nothing to do with the fic that I've written? Its disappointing and so unbelievably discouraging to me.

I don't mind if people don't comment, but I do mind when people do this. Authors comment sections aren't a place to just have a casual chat!!! Keep it about the fic please!

Last thing and for the love of God listen to me:

This is nothing against people with DID. My issue with this falls into 2 categories:

"My one issue is that I'm trans in this, personally would have swapped me and Johnny"

If you are a person with DID and fictives and you read fics with your fictives, you have to understand that I AM NOT WRITING ABOUT YOU.

I do not need your opinion on if I wrote "you" correctly because I am not writing you!! I'm writing the fictional character who I have my own thoughts and beliefs about. If it bothers you, click off. I do not want or need to hear how I got something wrong because its not fucking wrong when it comes to me. Again, extremely discouraging to read.

The second thing and this may sound mean but for the love of God I do not care or need to know if you are a system/have DID. Unless my fic features DID (none of mine do at all) then its just completely unnecessary to mention.

I especially don't need to know which of your alters is talking. Unless I know you, there is genuinely no point to it. It just takes up space and makes things about you rather than about the fic you're commenting on.

Also, in this case? As someone who has been cursed by online role-playing in comment sections, even though this isn't it just feels like role-playing and it makes me extremely uncomfortable.

Please just leave your comment and move on. Unless it has something to do with the fic, I don't need to know this stuff about you. I've had people tell me more personal things in the comment sections that I was fine with and even touched me, but its always about how they relate to the fic, not just random information they throw in.

Again, its just a comfort thing for me.

Okay, serious Luke post is over now.

#thoughts with luke #gary roach sanderson #simon ghost riley #call of duty #john soap mactavish #ao3 #commenting #comment ettiquette #boundaries

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heluvschibi · 1 month

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The Apocalypse: master list

⚠��Cussing, mentions of blood, mentions of $u!c!de, panic attacks, (Jumscares?), I'll add more soon

📄The reader (you) is not a wuss, she may cry a little, but she's not going to sit there crying while a zombie is about to attack her, she may be scared (who wouldn't) but she gets over it.

👤Just so you guys know I'm some what of a procrastinator, I give up easily (you should've seen me during my 2-d art class...I still hate color pencils...) So I'm gonna surprise myself if I actually finish this whole thing, I don't even know how how many chapters I wanna do. —Chibi

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—Bang Christopher Chan

Leader (NO DUH)

Scavenger

—Lee Min Ho

Second in command

Medic

Cook

—Seo Chang Bin

Fighter

Scavenger

—Hwang Hyun Jin

Fighter

—Han Ji Sung

Medic

—Lee Felix

Cook

Medic

Record holder (literally)

—Kim Seung Min

Weapon expert

—Yang Jeong in

Weapon expert

Scavenger

°•Preview•°

When news of people violently assaulting each other in Busan surfaced, most in Seoul dismissed it—until the chaos spread.

“Citizens of Busan—”

“Citizens of Daegu—”

…

“The violence has reached Seoul. Police have intervened, but the situation escalated. The city mourns its—oh… oh…” The broadcast abruptly switched to President Yoon Suk Yeol.

“My fellow Koreans, we face a crisis. The violent outbreaks are linked to a virus named Z-B232. The creators of this virus are under interrogation, and efforts to develop a cure are underway. For now, remain indoors. Early symptoms mimic a common cold: coughing, shivering, chills, followed by death. If you know anyone exhibiting these signs, immediately call the number on your screen, ple—”

The transmission ended. Two months have passed; it’s now April. Some of the forest has reclaimed the city, and the only light in my room filters through a tiny hole in the newspaper plastered over my window. Below, a horde of zombies roams the grounds of my apartment complex. Two months alone, stuck in my apartment...

I must venture out in search of supplies…

══════════°•°•°•⚠️•°•°•°══════════

“Why do you always record on that damn thing? You’re going to drain the generator faster, Fe—!”

“Quiet, Changbin Hyung. It’s for my own records.”

“Guys, stop bickering…”

“Yeah Or I’ll stop cooking. Enjoy your dry rice.”

“No, Minho Hyung, please! We need your cooking!”

“Hey, where’s Jeongin?”

“He’s out with Chan, gathering supplies. Did you forget?”

“Right, they left earlier.”

══════════°•°•°•⚠️•°•°•°══════════

Chapters...

[1]—Living in my small apartment when the apocalypse started is not ideal, now I'm running low on food and water a necessary need for a living human... I have to leave...

[2]—Food ✔ water ✔ survivors... WAIT SURVIVORS?!

[3]—Just stick to the plan he said...we'll be fine he said...

[4]—When Jeongin said they lived in a mansion with 8 boys, I thought he was just over exaggerating...

[5]—???

more to come...

══════════°•°•°•⚠️•°•°•°══════════

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dois-funnyzone · 3 months

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some thoughts on partitio and agnea's traveler stories and their ultimate contribution to the connecting plot of octopath traveler 2

i recently finished my second playthrough of octopath 2, and it was really fun because it reminded me on why this game is very special to me in spite of its flaws, as well as give me new reasons to appreciate it and its efforts to better connect all eight traveler stories to a grander plot than the first octopath game.

when i first played octopath 2, i thought agnea's story was pretty disappointing since it was the one that connected the least to the big bads behind the game's final chapter and was very low-stakes and lighthearted. however, after reading some folks' opinions on the game + reexperiencing the whole package for myself, i've softened up to her a bit and really appreciate the role she plays in the story, even if it might not be to the same level as the other travelers. (i'm also lumping partitio into this even though his connections are a little tighter + he's not as talked about regarding this issue since i feel like he and agnea's stories have similar ideas and tone)

this was originally apart of a grand infodump on the game i made after finishing the epilogue that i wanted to isolate into its own post!

some spoilers abound, up to the very end of octopath traveler 2 (with some mentions of stuff revealed in octopath traveler 1's endgame)

so the final chapter of octopath traveler 2 pretty much ties key characters and events together through the moonshade order, whose members were involved in all eight characters' stories in order to enact their plan to bring about eternal night. a common criticism of agnea's story is that her connections to this overarching scheme are pretty loose.

each traveler has a major member of the moonshade order involved in some way or another. temenos was acquainted with mindt, who turned out to be arcanette, the current leader and mastermind behind it all. castti's colleague trousseau was involved in the cult's activities as well, utilizing the shadow to spread pestilence after being corrupted by their teachings.

in agnea's case, her connection to this order is tanzy, who is a very minor character all things considered in her story. she was a member of giselle's traveling troupe, and she often mentions a "goddess" in most of her dialogue (who we later find out was referring to arcanette, who manipulated her into the order's cause). what gets to a lot of people is that agnea, upon finding out about tanzy's fate during the final chapter (that she was used and sacrificed by arcanette in order to further the moonshade order's ambitions), has zero reaction or comment about it. not even giselle, coda, and rico, the only other people that have actually met and interacted with tanzy, have anything to say about tanzy's noticable absence during the reunion during the epilogue, making tanzy as agnea's link to the moonshade order feel strange, especially compared to other members who had a slightly more active role in the other travelers' stories.

since i'm also talking about partitio, i might as well explain his connection as well: his story's moonshade order member is ori, a scrivener that always seems to appear out of nowhere. we learn in the final chapter that she was actually keeping tabs on a bunch of the other travelers (even appearing at osvald's trial at the beginning of his story) to gather information for the moonshade order. ori was a pretty important character, but her involvement with partitio's story is that she was Always There (that's the best i can put it), and partitio was sort of doing his own thing.

he and agnea's stories are the only ones to make no mention of The Shadow or any of d'arquest's shenanigans, and they're also a lot more lighthearted in tone, so they might feel a bit out of place when trying to connect them to the other travelers' stories and how they connect to the overarching plot. does that mean they served no purpose? not so! i think they’re relevant in their own way.

partitio and agnea’s story are about hope and forging a future that’s worth fighting and living for. partitio is all about bringing about prosperity to all and seeks to overcome the gigantic task of buying the rights to the steam engine so he can freely distribute it for the better. his resolve to help others is precisely what gets ori to doubt her nihilistic worldview instilled in her by the moonshade order, and it's what keeps her alive when she attempts to sacrifice herself at the fellsun ruins. ori states in her journal that she believes people, businessmen like partitio, are all destined to fall into the pitfall of greed that makes people suffer, much like how roque brilliante turned out, yet partitio’s compassion changes her mind. it’s really cool, even if it’s a detail buried among a sea of other stuff you have to read to piece everything together. (love the final chapter and its plot revelations, but yeah it's sort of disappointing that a lot of information is obtained through reading ori's journal rather than any kind of interaction between all of the members, but alas)

agnea on the surface has a really lighthearted story that doesn’t really have a natural place to mention the death cult lurking in the shadows of everyone’s story or the supernatural magic that will be used to bring about eternal night (see again, tanzy’s very minor presence compared to other moonshade order members). i thought the same at first after my first playthrough. HOWEVER! her story, more than anyone else’s, IS about hope, the main theme of the game. her final battle theme + the thing she works on her whole story is uniquely called the ‘song of hope’. she’s the only traveler to not have a version of the final battle theme; rather than being an epic clash between her greatest foe, it's a triumphant, uplifting song that she debuts in her "battle" with dolcinea ('song of hope' is such an amazing song too, perhaps my favorite in the ost). her journey involves inspiring others to keep moving forward in the face of adversity, such as motivating gill to pursue his ambitions as a musician or giselle to overcome her doubts or giving laila a reason to keep living and dancing despite her circumstances. it only makes sense then that she is the one to give the final speech that properly ends the story of the game, as it’s her journey that fully encapsulates that theme of hope for the future. it was the very thing the main villains thought there was none left in the world, that nihilism that made them want to put the world out of its misery by bringing about an endless night since the dawn was not worth fighting for.

agnea feels like the true protagonist of the game in my opinion, even if her story feels the least related to The Big Bads.

she’s not here to fight, she’s here to inspire, ya know!!! AAAAA

(if i ever play octopath 2 for the third time, ill definitely be picking her as my starter~)

(the reason why i’m kinda up on my soapbox defending my girl is bc i saw a gamefaqs thread of someone explaining this significance agnea’s story has to the main plot and themes and everyone dismissing it as a dumb, stretchy non-answer. YOU GAMERS KNOW NOTHING!!! /lh)

anyway, as far as lighthearted stories w a sort of vague goal go in octopath traveler, agnea’s heavily tying back to the main theme of the game makes it stronger than someone’s like tressa or alfyn’s since they kind of had their own plots that didn’t really relate back to anyone else’s. their only connection to everyone else’s stories were through their connections with graham crossford, which is PRETTY COOL!! but he was long dead/transformed into redeye before the events of the game and tressa and alfyn sorta do their own thing after he indirectly inspired them to go traveling. it just feels more vague i guess?

apologies this is really rambly. again, i lifted this from an infodump i wrote on the fly, so i was not really essay-brained, but i hope my point comes across adequately?

all the same, i just have a big appreciation and love for this game. i'm proud to call it my favorite video game, and though it has its problems, it's very special to me and i like talking about it. hopefully i got that across to any reader on this here post, and maybe it inspires a new appreciation for agnea's story and its place in octopath traveler 2 :)

#mayor talk #8path 2 #octopath traveler 2 #agnea bristarni #partitio yellowil #octopath 2 #octopath traveler

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trulybetty · 10 months

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Sunday | Week In Review I

So in order to try and be consistent with this, I’ve kept a running Notes page open to keep track of my week.

As I mentioned last week, I don’t expect this every week, I am me. But I am going to keep trying to make an effort to support my fellow creators.

If there’s something you’ve enjoyed this week, please feel to reblog this and tag me so I can check it out and share 💙

Also, not that I feel it needs to be said, but this is a reflection of what I have personally read and enjoyed.

B x

Truly Betty Updates This Week…

New York Part I (Marcus Pike x f!reader)

Fics I Enjoyed This Week…

Conversations with a Movie Star | Chapter 1 by @gnpwdrnwhiskey Even if you’re not a fan of Dieter Bravo, the dialogue in this alone is worth checking out this opening chapter for this new fic. Ava is an OFC down on her luck after being fired, from her families paper no less, and has stumbled across the Bravo Inn… I’ll let Lellen’s writing do the rest

Stripper Jack Trilogy | P. III by @psychedelic-ink The conclusion of maybe the definitive trilogy of trilogies? I don’t think anyone had Stripper Jack on their 2023 bingo cards, but he’s earned his space and I won’t have any arguments on it.

Hungry Hearts | Chapter by @atinylittlepain Not many Joel AU’s I’ll jump into, but Bruce Springsteen and Joel Miller? Signed myself the fuck up for that as soon as it was announced. The unfolding of Joel and Cherry's relationship in the summer of '86 against them running back into one another 17 years later is such a great dynamic.

Fall Apart Again | Chapter 1 + 2 by @wildemaven Heidi spoiled us this week, with not one, but TWO chapters of her new Joel fanfic. I don’t think I’ve gotten so emotional over an opening chapter to a fic before like I did with this one! Then the second chapter? Just bury me now… but actually don’t, I want to see the end of this fic first!

The Layover | Chapter 9 by @goodwithcheese How did Megan describe her fanfics? Hallmark movies with smut? She's not wrong. This whole series so far has been a rollercoaster of emotions and keeps delivering each week without fail. Not only are you rooting for Reader + Frankie, but Jules and Santiago anyone? Or maybe just Jules herself because she's just the boss.

Late Night Texts | Chapter 9 by @mvtthewmurdvck I think it's safe to say it's fanfics like Late Night Texts that have got me back in my rom-com/hopeless romantic era. I don't want to give too much away if you've not had the pleasure of reading this - but it has all the hallmarks of a good rom-com set on the backdrop of the early 2000s and with Javier Peña. If you're like me and still trying to make your way through Narcos or haven't watched it yet - please don't let it stop you, you won't be sorry!

A Little FaceTime by @stardustandskycrystals I’m still thinking about this fic days later and may have gone back to read it again. Trust me, just read this - you don’t need an explanation or reason, just read it. Even if Javi isn’t your jam (wasn’t on my list before, that’s all changed now) - it won’t disappoint!

Things I’m Looking Forward to Starting…

Decoherence by @prolix-yuy Westworld and Jack ‘Agent Whiskey’ Daniels crossover, yes, please! It is also reminding me that I never finished season one and should do something about it…

Pleased to Meet You by @intheorangebedroom This is a constant on my dash and on my TBR pile for a while with so many good comments - also getting into my Frankie era, so it’s perfect timing!

The Pilot & His Girl by @avastrasposts Been waiting to savour this one! So you’ve got the Last of Us and you’ve got Triple Frontier, two of my favourite things… what happens when you mush them together? You get a wild ride through the outbreak with Frankie & Reader - I cannot wait to get into this!

Visiting by @ladamedusoif This is another regular on my dash and on my TBR that I’m hoping to get stuck into this week. A college AU of Mr. Ben from the SNL sketch. Fully fleshed out and on the backdrop of New England, I’m ready to get swept away with this promise of a slow burn.

The House by @gemmahale A Jack Daniels x OFC (Best Friend) series coming soon focusing on a long-lost friendship, an inheritance, and Jack sounding like the scallion he is? Cannot wait.

Posts I Enjoyed This Week…

@rhoorl’s announcement of their Triple Frontier AU, Delta Landscaping with mood board and logo! The residents of Tumblr won’t know what’s hit the neighbourhood when they roll into town!

Thanks to @gnpwdrnwhiskey I will never look at baby hippos without thinking of Dieter Bravo

Everyone’s participation in the WIP poll tag game, it was so fun to see my dash just filled with so many creative people and so many amazing ideas! It was a neat peek into everyone’s draft folders!

Things I’ve Enjoyed This Week…

Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse - FINALLY got to see it this week, and it did not disappoint. Have not stopped thinking about it since!

My rom-com era has returned, and I’m deep into embracing my forgotten love of a good rom-com. So far this week it’s been The Lake House, You’ve Got Mail & Always Be My Baby. Also it gave way to a Keanu Reeves appreciation post, come share your favourite Keanu!

This Week’s Song… Went waaaayyyy back for this one, an amazing album too - the Sterephonics are one of my favourite bands of all time 🩶

Hope everyone has a great Sunday & here's to a new week!

Please feel free to share your own favourites from the week or what you're looking forward to this week - not a tag game, so no pressure for you to share if you're not feeling it ❤️ xx

#betty's sunday in review #not sold on the name #but I have a touch of sun stroke #so this is as imaginative as we're getting right now #Spotify

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cloud-somersault · 3 months

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Hey, how are you doing? I hope you’re alright. 💕 I’ve been reading your status updates on Constellations and the Epilogue, and I just wanted to let you know that I think you’re amazing. Your writing is incredible and I love it. Your stories are so well thought out and the characters are ✨on point✨, and the plot is complex and detailed and aaahhh! It has me hooked! 🤩

And I understand how it hurts when you put so much effort and love into a story, only to post it and not see others be anywhere near as excited or invested as you are. I know how discouraging it can be. And it may be a little silly, but I do want to apologize for not commenting lately—life took some difficult turns for me healthwise around the end of last year and I haven’t been able to catch up! I’m still on Chapter 4 of Constellations! 😭 BUT Chapter 5 is open on my phone, and I am READY to read it as soon as I have the time (and mental energy, but that’s a whole ‘nother issue 😩). Don’t worry that your writing isn’t enough, or be discouraged if some readers don’t catch hints while others are figuring it all out seemingly too easily. Everybody reads and comprehends stuff differently, and it’s not a sign that your writing is bad if they don’t catch it! Honestly, I’m pretty bad at catching hints the first time I read a story unless they’re pretty darn obvious. I don’t usually notice subtle hints until the second, or third, or even seventh read-through, haha! (on the bright side, rereading stories and rewatching TV shows is always fun!) 😅

I guess what I really wanted to say is… don’t give up hope. Don’t lose your love and enthusiasm for your works, or feel like they aren’t worth writing because others don’t seem interested in them. At the heart of it all… at the end of the day… write because you love to. Because it makes you happy. And know that it doesn’t have to be “perfect”—the main goal should be that you enjoy it. That’s something I’m trying to teach myself, too. 💕

Thank you for taking the time to write this message and send it. I appreciate you're very kind words 💕I'm doing okay, I just had to take a step back for a bit from socials and stuff. I'm gonna keep that up for a while.

Please don't apologize for not commenting or taking your time reading. Your health always comes first, and I'm sorry if I came off as childish or needy, that wasn't my intention. Two things just happened that set me off and the timing of it was incredibly poor 😓

Please take your time reading; none of it is going anywhere, and don't feel obligated to leave comments either. i'm realizing that, even if chapters are short or long, finding the time to finish things is difficult, and everyone lives different lives. And I'm sorry about all the spoilers on this blog, I'll tag that better from now on.

But I really do think I got confused or disjointed in my perceptions; everyone here knows so much because i've been asked questions and given answers and people have interacted, so people following me here have more context than the average ao3 user. But I've kinda been expecting everyone to be on the same page, which will never be true.

I'm also the same way where it takes me a while to pick up on hints. I actually changed my writing style to prevent this. I got tired of reading books in college where you had to dive into every little thing. the hints and clues weren't obvious to me. I decided then that, when I wrote, I wanted things to be bold, obvious, but beautiful. I didn't want to make readers feel like they're missing something. I wanted them to trust that every answer, every clue would be answered in time. I made that promise to myself a decade ago, and being reminded of how different people interpret things just...made me remember.

I take writing really seriously, probably too seriously, but I've been doing it for so long and I love doing it. I want to be good at it. When it feels like I've gone back on that promise to myself, I get frustrated. I think of ways I could've fixed things. But I also remember that those books and those writing styles just weren't for me. I wasn't the target audience.

Sorry to go off on a tangent, but I wanted to explain why I got upset. I still love Constellations and I'm posting it on ao3 out of convenience, really. It's easier to reference and search there in one "Entire Work" than to have 5 documents open. The fact that others can see and read and have fun is a bonus. But I'm committed to telling this story, and I'm gonna finish with a bang.

Thank you, I won't forget why I'm doing this and that my thoughts/feelings come first! 😤I hope your health concerns are taken care of soon. Take it easy, and thanks again! 💕

#ask #this is very kind i'm sorry i worried people i was just REAL upset/mad #but i'm better now. i just needed to take a minute and refocus and remind myself of a few things #we're still chugging along #but seriously thank you for sending this. i'm really glad you like constellations! that means a lot to me #but seriously--health comes first. and DON'T FEEL PRESSURED TO COMMENT!!! 😤#okay love you bye~ 💕

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inevitablysomber-dark · 7 months

Text

Dragonfly (Chapter 6 Final Chapter)

Subtle Dark! Pope Heyward x Mildly Naive! Reader

WARNING: Dubious Consent, Subtle Manipulation. MATURE AUDIENCES ONLY. MINORS DNI

Summary: Sex had always been painful for you, but you had been reassured that the pleasure would eventually come. On one particularly frustrating night, you find comfort in the arms of your neighbor Pope Heyward, who offers his assistance with your little problem. Will it work? Or will you be ruined by Pope's selfish alternative motives?

Series Masterlist

Popes POV

Start over?

Was she out of her fucking mind?

I didn’t put so much work and effort into breaking down her psyche, just so that she could build a resistance against me.

The plan was to give her a few days to sit on the break, and stop contacting her until she fell apart and came crawling back. Then I’d welcome her back with open arms. In the meantime, I thought it would be a good Idea to alienate her from her friends. It doesn't take much to pit the girls of outer banks against one another. I learned that from Sarah and Kie.

I just ‘ran into’ them at the beach, and told them that me and my little Dragonfly had fallen into some difficult times and she may be running to them for comfort. I may or may not have mentioned that this was usually something she’d do when I wasn’t available to her.

The look on their faces was priceless. Dragonfly’s friends were usually cool people, but like most people, it doesn’t take much to push out a misunderstanding like being second place to your ‘friend's’ boyfriend.

It wasn’t necessarily something that I cared to do, but she had pissed me off by asking for space. I wanted her to feel small, pathetic, and lonely. So when she came back, I’d be all she had left.

Dragonfly had been mine long before we started our little escapades. I always knew about her sexual strife. Billy Jo couldn’t keep his mouth closed about it, saying he couldn’t even finish because she was in so much pain. I’d never wanted to kill someone so badly, but I kept it to myself.

The second time was at a party, I watched her go upstairs with someone and although not my best moment, I followed and listened. To my absolute delight, I could hear nothing but her strangled cries before she began begging her partner to stop, which he did, and proceeded to ask what was wrong with her.

The third time I overheard a conversation she was having with her friends at the wreck.

I realized there was a problem, so I began researching issues that might make sex hurt, which was how I came across vaginismus. It was a long shot, but if my intuition was accurate, it would definitely be the thing I needed to make her mine, it didn’t hurt that her self-esteem was shot down a bit.

My moment arrived when she came home crying. She was dressed like she’d just come from a date, so I knew a failed sexual encounter had occurred.

I had to push a bit to get her to open up but, it ultimately worked, in no time at all I had introduced her to the concept of vaginismus and waited for her to bite when she realized that I may actually be able to help her.

I could have just gotten her set of dilators and had her stretch her vaginal muscles independently, but where was the fun in that. I didn’t just need her to be cured, I needed her to be mine. From my understanding, there were two aspects of sex that caused vaginismus to be so painful. Mental, because she didn’t trust her partners to take care of her, and physically her vaginal muscles just had difficulty getting used to penetration.

I first established a connection with her, I needed her to get used to the idea of being with me, both socially and sexually. The kisses, the hugs, the dates that she refused to acknowledge as dates.

When people first started mentioning the idea of us dating, she would immediately correct them. She always made sure to confirm with me that our arrangement was just an arrangement, and don’t get me started on how stiff she was when I showed her any kind of affection. It was frustrating, but expected, the key here was patience, and I had a lot of it to spare.

As the days wore on, she became used to the idea of being with me. She didn’t correct people when they called us ‘lovebirds’, or any other variation. Started returning my affections, albeit reluctantly, and most importantly, she was adamant about starting the most sexual part of the “treatment”.

I was definitely ready to get started but I needed to test my theory. So I ghosted her for a day, if she had gained any attachment to me, it would show one way or another. I had a University interview on the day I chose so I was dressed in business formal. The interview went well, and my father and I decided to go out for the momentous occasion. I got a bouquet of flowers, and my father smirked as if he knew a secret, but for now I just kept everything to myself.When I got home, I set back to my plan.

I found a Pure Vanilla body oil a while back, it was her favorite scent, if all worked well, and I managed to get sexual with Dragonfly, this would be the scent I used every time we got busy.

Why? Because of classical conditioning. If she had a pleasant sexual experience every time I smelled like Vanilla, overtime, she would get aroused every time I wore this scent. I dabbed the oil along my skin, and grabbed the bouquet heading right next door.

The results were better than expected.

I more or less expected her to chide me for disappearing on her, but instead she jumped into my arms and kissed me. I’ve never had a boner form so quickly, my plan was working. It was time for her to experience sexual pleasure. We quickly moved to her bedroom, and I immediately started devouring her cunt. It was honestly the best experience that I’d ever had and as expected she was as delicious as I had imagined and I couldn’t help but to savor every moment of the experience.

When her pussy spasmed and I started to feel warm juices gush forth, drenching my tongue with her nectar, I knew I had her.

I didn’t know for sure, but I think that was probably the first orgasm that she had shared with someone else.

Since then, with calculated precision, I’d partake in feasting on the nirvana between her legs. I couldn’t do it every day because I didn’t want her to get used to it, but I needed to do it often enough to invade her mind. In the meantime, I would stick my fingers inside of her to get her used to penetration. When I got up to 3 and her muscles relaxed around my fingers, it confirmed she was ready physically, but I didn’t have her 100%.

I needed her to get closer before I could snatch her up, to my suprise, she does begin reciprocating my oral satisfactions, and seems to actually enjoy it. Results became more favorable when she saw me playing around with Kie and threw the cutest tantrum. She tried to keep it to herself but couldn’t hold back when I wrapped her in my arms. So imagine my surprise, when I received a text from her that she wanted space. I was furious at her audacity to ask. But I allowed it, she didn’t need to see that part of me, besides, a little separation could be more beneficial to me than naught.

I couldn’t help following her around town though, I watched as her friends snubbed her with a smirk on my face, knowing the seed I had planted had been a success. I followed her around town, as she moved aimlessly, and if my hypothesis was correct, lonely.

Amidst my Dragonfly watching I spotted Rafe and LadyBug walking side by side, with Rafe’s arm tightly wound around her neck, and it looked like he was dragging her somewhere. I would have followed them but I was more worried about Dragonfly. Little did I know Ladybug would disappear a week later, but that's neither here nor there.

On the fourth day, I couldn’t take it anymore. I put on some Vanilla as a safeguard and went to climb up her window, and into her room when she greeted me nude, soon finding distraction in looking for a robe when I mentioned it.

It was disappointing to say the least.

When she started speaking, I decided to make a choice, it was now or never. This wasn’t the first time Dragonfly had given pushback, but it was the longest pushback she had ever given. I couldn’t risk the next one being longer than this. And if this didn’t work, I could always become rich and lock her in my basement.

She was about to say something, and I immediately cut her off with a kiss. She tried to reject me, but I simply pressed her a bit harder. I knew she was ready, she was always ready, but this moment was to establish her dependency on me.

As I pushed into her, I paid heed to her reaction. At first she gave a pained look, which had me a bit worried, but then it twisted into curiosity. I asked if she was ok, and it seemed like she wanted to stop, but she allowed me to keep going.

The symphony of moans that left her mouth had me in ecstasy, when she wrapped her legs around my waist and tightened I got a bit feral.

My little experiment was a success, I just needed to settle it once and for all, and I did with a simple.

“I love you”

Just as she reached her peak she called my name and said it back.

“I love you too.”

I had her.

She was mine now, and I had no intention on letting her go.

#Dark! Pope Heyward #dark obx #Dark! Pope heyward x Naive! Reader #Naive! Reader #Dubious Consent #Manipulation #Pogue! Reader #dark fics #fem!reader

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clawbehavior · 5 months

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Hi and happy new year 🌺🌺🌺

For the wip game:

I'm really intrigued to know more about these : 3,8 and 13 (sorry for being greedy 😅)

Please

happy new year anon!

not only do i love that you asked about more than one WIP (i am greedy with you), i loooove these choices because i just updated the work that is #3, so i'm knee deep in it emotionally. it's 'everything everywhere all at once', my money lender au! i have 5-10 drafts going at any time for this story because writing a new chapter helps me simplify the plot. then i have to write that down and cross reference against the clues i already published.

eeaao is very dear to my heart because it was my second foray into fanfic writing after more than a decade and my first multi chapter work. i get a unique thrill from reader engagement with it. finishing it is going to be a life accomplishment for me because of the amount of time i've spent on it (a year) and the very real plans i made in september to discontinue it. we're all good now though, with things finally falling into place for the remaining 1.5 chaps.

i'm posting a snippet from y's take on things which is his version of eeao, made unique by the context he brings to their interactions. i love this scene so much that i actually use it as a treat, telling myself i can publish it only if i finish the main work lmao. so i'm THRILLED you asked about it anon, thank you 🥰🥰

i will reply to the other WIPs in your asks shortly but for now, enjoy the snippet under the break.

after the breakup, yohan has wet dreams like never before. he dreams of gaon. of laying him on the bed with reverant hands and tying him to it so he can't leave. of ravishing him while gaon moans and cries and begs for more. of releasing gaon at the end, only for him to climb into yohan's lap greedy for kisses and with whispered promises that he'll never leave, that he'll stay by yohan's side no matter what. because he loves yohan.

the dreams are incomprehensible without a structured timeline or form. he cooks for gaon and feeds him with his hands in some. he binds gaon's wrists together under the younger man's besotted gaze in another. they drive down an endless road at night, gaon curled into the passenger seat, his forever companion.

only once does yohan dream something so terrible that he does something unbelievably cruel in real life to offset the feeling and leads a man to believe his family is burning alive in their home to prove a point. and the thing he dreams of is raising a family with gaon.

he wakes up thrashing, in sweat stippled sheets twisted around his waist and legs. stumbles out of bed and into clothes and away from a home saturated with gaon's presence. for two whole weeks after that, he avoids his house. isaac picks up on this strange energy within the first week, becomes downright meddlesome by the third. yohan rebuffs his well-intentioned efforts and throws himself into his work, into the hunt, the remaining stronghold of his life because it's where gaon cannot be found.

or so he thinks. he's just wrapped up a successful negotiation that gives him significant editorial oversight over a prominent but heavily indebted news company, and is leaving the VIP section of the club when he sees him. gaon's on the lower floor, sound and strobing lights separating him from yohan. he's sitting on a bar stool, talking to another man. being propositioned, it's obvious. the man has his hands jammed in his pockets but has leaned close, eagerly making a point and staring at gaon with a desire yohan knows well.

how could he not? gaon looks lovely, even though he's tied up in a suit while everyone around him is in clubbing clothes. he's swirling his drink one handedly and listening with his head cocked to the side, inviting but not reciprocating.

from his vantage point on the upper floor, yohan catalogues all this in the brief look he allows himself. then he walks straight out of the bar and to his waiting car. he'd let gaon so could live his life. without yohan. ergo, with someone else.

yohan's many things, but what he's not is unselfaware. so he doesn't bother berating himself in the time it takes to switch his attire for a different kind of hunting outfit, black sweats and a hoodie.

gaon's place looks the same, yohan notes from where he's hidden by the shadows across the street. it's also dark.

which doesn't mean anything, he tells himself with a faint tinge of desperation. gaon could've gone bar hopping. but yohan remembers the closed line of his body even as let the man come too close, how gaon's wrists were concealed by two layers when he bared his skin willingly for yohan.

maybe yohan wasn't as self aware as he told himself.

this line of thought is immediately blown apart when gaon rounds the bend with his friend, cheeks flushed by alcohol and the cold. yohan crushes his cigarette under his sneaker and stares hungrily. gaon catches yoon soohyun when she stumbles -- a show, yohan thinks meanly, given how sturdy her boots are -- and pulls her into an affectionate one-armed hug, tugging her up the stairs and into his apartment.

soohyun is my oldest and closest friend, yohan recalls as he watches the house. the bedroom light turns on. we're not romantically involved, nor have we ever been.

platonic, yohan reminds himself. but a platonic friend could fill a sexual need just fine, albeit insufficiently. this is good, he decides. it means gaon's moving on. somewhat. and not with the stranger from the bar.

he's not fooling himself that the thought of gaon pushed up against his kitchen counter by someone else, for someone else to undo his tie inbetween laughing kisses and mess up his carefully styled hair, tug his shirt out of his trousers filled yohan with sick violence. it was the sex, but it was more than that. it was knowing how unselfconscious and uninhibited gaon was during sex. the experience opened him up in such a way that a part of him sunk into his surroundings, including the body of his lover. yohan felt it every time he left gaon, that gaon had deposited a piece of himself in yohan's hands, permanently changing them both in the process.

the lights in the bedroom go out.

yohan swallows.

a moment later, the living room lights turn on, a lithe frame passing near the windows before everything goes dark again. it means he hasn't moved on yet, yohan thinks, drawing his armor around himself again. but the hurt comes from deep within, a feeling breaking him apart like a tree root piercing concrete.

yohan should've pushed him away earlier. before he got attached. he slinks into the alley and heads home, feeling worse than better.

and then one day, just as chaotically as gaon walked out of yohan's life, he walks back in.

#the devil judge #my fic ideas #am writing #anon asks #ask games

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peachymilkandcream · 4 months

Text

Break Me Slowly|Part 25|Yandere Levi x Evelyn

(A/N: The fact we're almost done with the canon storyline is actually insane. There's only two specials left that I'll try and cover one per chapter in and then it's totally off of my own storyline (which I think you guys will really like tbh) How many chapters after the end of the canon line ends I'm not sure I'm still deciding. I would put a number but I don't want to force myself to finish at a certain number if I don't need/want to. Hope you enjoy and comment to be added to the taglist!)

WARNINGS: noncon, dubcon, manipulation, domestic abuse, yandere themes, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, stockholm syndrome, violence, mind breaking, misogyny, etc.

==============================================

Since the battle Levi had done nothing but insist Evelyn sat with him while he held her stomach gently. He would never admit it but he was worried sick that something might have happened to her. Might have happened to their child.

"After this is all over Levi, what will we do then? Go back to our house? Pretend like the world didn't almost end and live out the rest of our mortality."

"That's if we don't become fugitives."

"Exactly. What are we going to do."

"That house is my home. I'm going to go back there and live out the rest of my days with my wife in peace. Our children, and their children gathered around us. The Ackerman bloodline rebuilt, my legacy continued."

"What if we don't make it back?" She was hesitant to ask.

"We will. I promise you. I will not allow you to exist without me. The very idea makes me sick."

A soft scoff comes from her at his determined look, how easy it was for him to get into these fits. "If you say so Captain."

Neither had anything smart to say anymore so they relapsed into silence, until with some effort Levi stood, straightening his clothes, even now at the end of humanity he was determined to look clean and presentable.

"Where are you going now? Shouldn't you be resting?"

"Not a chance. I sleep when I'm dead. That bearded lady, she's healing up and it seems like she survived her infection. I'm going to make her tell us where Eren is going."

Evelyn stands with him, taking his arm. "Shall we?"

"Willing to touch me huh? What's with this sudden change in mood?"

"We're partners in crime. In all things I've got your back."

A small smile appears on his face before he forces it to vanish, kissing her forehead. "There's my girl."

=============================================

Levi's presence alone was intimidating enough for Yelena to talk. Spilling her guts on the excuse she wanted them to admit that Zeke was right in what he was doing. Although Levi's suspicion is she really didn't want to get any more bones broken.

Her calm explanation of the world's destruction didn't phase the Captain in the slightest. Just another thing that needed to be accomplished. Evelyn didn't even think he gave a second thought to her words until they were lying in the same bed last night for the first time in months. She had forgotten how warm and comforting it was to lay beside him and hear the rhythm of his heart.

"Hey."

"What is it."

"I told you I was going to get you out of this, but truth is, we could die tomorrow."

"I know."

"I want you to stay behind."

"You know I won't do that."

He sighs. "Not even if I tell you it's for your own good?"

"Nope."

"Good. Glad we got that out of the way so I can go down in the record that I did the gentlemanly thing and told you to save yourself."

"Record added." She looks up at him, his gruesome stiches hidden poorly under the cloth. "It's like you don't know me at all."

"Trust me I do. Wherever I go you're right behind me like a leech."

"I think you have that the other way around."

"Hm. Maybe I do."

Their breathing fills the room again until he breaks it by pulling her face up towards his and meeting her mouth in a fiery kiss, as if he was trying to sear the imprint onto her skin.

"What's gotten into you-" Her words and more breathless than she would've liked, her core clenching on nothing.

"We might die, so fuck it and lets have one last night to remember."

He was right, he always was. They could die tomorrow. So giving in at the end of all of this could be done guilt free.

Her body rose up to meet him, accepting his hips rolling onto hers with such desperation it made her shudder. His hands clawed and groped, wanting to touch every inch of her. His tongue and mouth tasted all they could, he just wanted to devour her. That's all he ever wanted since he laid eyes on her. To take everything she was, chew it up and savor how it broke and bent to his teeth before spitting her out, just bones of who she used to be.

Their clothes become nothing more than a discarded heap, soon she found her thighs over his shoulders while his tongue explored her folds, dipping eagerly in and out. He was famished, before he was incapable of making their reunion worth while. No more.

His arousal covered kisses trailed up her body, pausing to flick her nipples with his tongue while his fingers twisted and turned inside her. Speeding up until she threw her head back, moaning and clamping down on them, practically begging him for his dick.

"Tell me what you want honey."

Defiance flashed in her eyes, she was willing to work with him for the sake of their child but there was no chance she was going to submit to him. "Oh fuck you."

"If you insist." His hand slips behind her neck, then he flips her onto her stomach, landing a slap on her ass, admiring the ripples it makes.

Levi pressed his whole weight onto her, still holding her neck while squeezing slightly, his erection grinding into her and channeling all his desire into his thrusts. "You'll do as I say, got it? And you'll fucking enjoy it." Slowly he started to slide in, each inch he pushed punctuated his next words. "Every. Fucking. Inch."

Fingers down her throat kept the noises at bay while he thoroughly fucked her, setting his own rough and unforgiving pace until eventually she was sucking him in while she came, forcing every drop of cum to fill her cunt.

When he was finished with her he dropped her with a sigh. "That's a good girl."

==============================================

Something was different between them the next day, It was almost like how it was before the whole mess of marriage. Helping each other with their gear, sharing smiles, and joking with each other like that had back then. It was...nice. Oh how she missed it.

She added it up to the hope of what was to come. The flying boat nearly prepared and all filled with a sense of determination that they would be the ones to save humanity. And while the only gloom was the leaving of Annie, the fate of the world rested on their shoulders. They had a mission to finish. Then they could all go home, life would continue on, Commander Erwin would be finally freed once the Jeagerists realized there was no longer and hope. They would all be free.

Shots fired from within the hanger cut short their celebration. Floch's weakened body firing without thought before Mikasa's sword finally cut him up. A deserved death in Evelyn's mind, all he had caused was trouble on top of that arrogant attitude.

"Good riddance." She muttered under her breath.

"Hange, he shot up the tank- We're grounded-!" Onyankopon's eyes were filled with terror as he surveyed the damage.

"Don't give up." One of the engineers assured him. "It'll fly if we can just fix these holes."

Collectively, they scrambled to get the welding tools and begging fixing the damage.

"How long will it take?" Concern laced Hange's voice.

"Tin is the fastest way, it shouldn't take longer than an hour."

As he reached for a set of wire cutters the ground beneath them began to shake violently.

They were too late.

"We haven't got an hour."

Evelyn followed Reiner out to estimate how much time they had left, horrified when they saw they had no time. The Rumbling was here.

They continued to march forward, the Titans refusing to stop their assault. All of the former Scouts debating amongst one another who should stay and who should go with the others.

"Go, I can cover the rear." Reiner's gaze traveled to Evelyn unbidden, if she could make it out, his death would be worth it.

"You think that's any better?" Hange's voice came from behind them, her arms laden with thunder-spears. "If we're going to stand a chance we can't use any of our Titan power yet." She paused, a determined look in her eyes. "We wouldn't be in this situation if it weren't for me, I dragged you all here over the bodies of your comrades. It's time I made it right." Her gaze met those of her comrades. "When this is all over remember me when you all celebrate your victory and the end of The Rumbling. It was an honor to serve with you all." She gave them all a small smile. "Short retirement speech I know. Alright, bye guys." She turns to leave, facing her two oldest friends.

"Hey, that's your goodbye?" Levi seemed unimpressed.

"I know you get it Levi, I've been waiting so long for this. My time has come." She pauses, leaving the silence hang for a second. "So please, I want to ride the high to the end and make a really awesome exit! Let it happen, okay?"

Both the Captain and wife sort through their feelings all at once. This woman had been with them since the beginning. Teasing Levi for his quirks, daring Evelyn to do crazy stuns, dodging responsibility to research Titans. Their best friend.

A moment passes before Levi presses an enclosed fist to her chest. "Dedicate your heart."

She smiles slightly as Evelyn salutes her. "Captain."

A laugh escapes Hange's lips. "I didn't think I'd ever hear you say that. Take care of Evie for me Levi, or I might have to come back from the dead and take her myself." She tries to wink but with the loss of her eye it seems like a blink as she zips away to certain doom.

Hange's assault was taken advantage of, the Scouts only moving when told that the flying boat was prepared to move. They boarded with one last look on Hange as they took off down the runway. Her burnt body resembling that of a falling star.

Each grieved in their own way, sobbing, or silent thoughts of sadness. The only words spoken were that of Levi's.

"See you around, Hange. Just watch us."

#break me slowly #levi x oc #attack on titan #levi aot #levi ackerman #levi x reader #shingeki no kyojin #yandere levi #yandere levi ackerman #yandere levi x reader #aot x reader #aot smut

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cloudburst-ink · 9 months

Text

Tagged by @justanothervariant !

Rules: Go to your published works on AO3 and list the first and last fics you published there, a fic for a fandom/ship you've only written for once, your favourite fic in the fandom/ship with the most works, the fic you wish more people read, the fic you agonised over the most, the fic that sprang fully-formed from your mind with minimal effort, and a work you are proud of—for whatever reason. <3

-----

first: Send/Delete (Malec), a 120k word Shadowhunters au that starts out adjacent to canon, and then swiftly branches off to feature an OC warlock villain who specifically targets Malec.

most recent: Beloved Without Shame (KimChay), the final installment in the 500-word KimChay smut fic challenge that @staykimchay and I recently concluded!

a fandom/ship you've only written for once: I sorted my fics by pairing and found an Isabelle Lightwood / Jace Wayland one shot I wrote a while back. That was certainly... interesting. I'm not linking it. If you're that determined, find it yourself. It's not good. 💀😂 It was the result of the last time I went on a writers weekend and challenged myself to write something far out of my comfort zone (at the time).

your favourite fic in the fandom/ship with the most works: I'm going to take "most works" to mean that I've written the most works for. Probably Where Summer Meets Frost (KimChay), which I eventually intend to spin off into its own original story if I can ever finish Desperate Measures first. 😅

the fic you wish more people read: I don't think I really have one! I adore getting comments and kudos, but I write for me. It's always fun to see which fics surprise me, though. If I had to name one, I think Like a Land of Dreams (Malec), the little series I wrote for the Tarot Challenge, is a bit of a dark horse. There aren't many fics out there where Magnus chooses to be mortal with Alec, rather than Alec choosing immortality with Magnus. It was an interesting concept to rotate around in my mind. It's also the first fic where I began playing with more flowery language and allowing myself to write a bit more dramatically like I really wanted to.

the fic you agonised over the most: Probably Desperate Measures (KimChay), which I've been working on for a whole ass YEAR and I only have THREE CHAPTERS LEFT! SO CLOSE!!! But From Behind the Stars (Malec) gets a close second considering I never actually finished it. Whoops. 😬 I'm sensing a pattern where I tend to lose steam at around 80-90k words.

the fic that sprang fully-formed from your mind with minimal effort: Both Simple Little Secrets (KimChay) and Cotton Candy Crush (KimChay) happened like this. I seem to have an affinity for fics that start out as shameless crack smut.

fic I am proud of: (forgot this one and had to edit it in--whoops!) Probably the Fucking Fridays series (KimChay) in general, because it's just 31,000 words of solid, shameless smut that @staykimchay and I wrote. There are just so many different situations and ideas and dynamics. What an incredible accomplishment and learning experience. Go us.

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I tag @staykimchay and @venagrey ! And anyone else who wants to grab it. 🖤

#tag game

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somany-fandoms-solittle-time · 3 months

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“What’s so Special About the Moon?”

Jamil Viper x Mac

Ch. 1 – Ch. 2 – (Ch. 3) – Ch. 4 – Next – Previous

I never thought I’d finish this chapter…. LIKE HOLY SHIT I HATED OPENING MY NOTEBOOK BUT THE TIME HAS COME Y’ALL!!! I was planning on posting this before Valentines Day, but I got kinda busy and then almost a whole month passed lol! I’m also convinced I no longer know how to write two characters interacting with each other properly… Maybe the break was needed? No song in this one, but there’s so Mac lore and somewhat talking about feelings! The next (and final) chapter of this will be like a romanticized epilogue. Since I’m not sure how much I want to actually write and plan out for this oc, specifically regarding timeline stuff, it’s not gonna be considered “canon” [p.s. The most beta this gets is a quick read through of a 2nd draft after I finish typing it up so there may be mistakes or sentences that don’t make total sense]

The cream stone walls, lined with gold and crimson ceramics, provided an open, airy atmosphere to the Scarabia’s main Kitchen. Gentle breezes shifted Jamil’s long, dark hair while his busy hands expertly prepared baked pakoras. Their delightful deep-fried scent filled the air, making Mac’s already dry mouth water. Another beat or two of awkward silence oppressed the two as the Ramshackle Housewarden lightly sipped at the nearly empty glass of pink lemonade (including a few tiny chunks of dragonfruit).

“If you would like a second glass, there’s plenty left in the pitcher; second fridge to the right, middle shelf. I’d offer to pour but I must make sure these don’t burn.” Jamil finally broke the silence with more than the single-worded responses Mac was using. Xey supposed they couldn’t run away, least they be called out for being a hypocrite.

“No worries, I mean, I wasn’t really expecting you to serve me hand and foot,” they attempted to joke as a way to ease back into conversation.

“Scalding Sand hospitality would say otherwise,” Jamil easily shot back with a hint of mirth in his tone.

“Well,” Mac dragged out in a tired sigh, “I’m not royalty or a wealthy merchant. Besides, I’m not exactly fluent in any desert customs, Twisted Wonderland or otherwise… Kinda the opposite in fact! So, really, it’s no problem between us. I mean! You don’t need to feel like you have to go through any extra effort or ceremony for my sake.” Their hesitant eyes flicked fervently between filling the lemonade and the calm, sturdy back of the Vice Warden. A panicked symphony of little anxieties added an extra depth to xeir already drooping eyes.

Jamil remained calm. So fucking calm and put together that the Ramshackle Perfect could feel xeir anxiety almost turn to frustration. Almost. That deep well of guilt and shame kept them ‘grounded’ while waiting to hear some type of response.

“No need to concern yourself so much, it’s more force of habit than anything else.”

Mac huffed hardheartedly, “Trust me. I’d rather kill myself than even consider being a bother.” It was meant to be a more lighthearted joke but from Jamil’s reaction, he wasn’t used to such crude self-deprecation. A wide-eyed panic flooded his own eyes quickly as if mentally preparing to start damage control.

“Relax,” Mac continued with a snort, “nihilism is like breathing where I’m from.” A domino effect went through xeir body following their wave of flippancy. A harmless eye-roll, followed by a slightly less strained side-smile, the finishing with a light shrug into a slouch. “Besides, you can only have so many near-death experiences before beginning to think about death with casual indifference. You should try it sometimes… might loosen you up a bit!”

“It seems I’ve gotten too used to Kalim’s more literal style of speech.” the Vice replied through lightly gritted teeth; completely omitting any comment about how he did almost die during his overblot. The forced politeness remained and insisted on the reconstruction of his peripheral walls. It was really starting to piss Mac off. Good thing ze were a nosy bitch!

Fiddling in their lap, they sent a quick message to the ‘Ramshackle Freshies’ group chat letting them know not to wait up. Ze suddenly had a new, and challenging, job to do.

“… Considering how well you two got along I thought you shared that similarity,” the second year whispered under his breath, likely meant just to himself. Seriously, Mac thought, was he really meant to be sneaky? How’d he ever get away with it in the past?

“I was a lot like Kalim when I was younger,” xey replied just to watch Jamil startle out of his thoughtful pout. “Yeah, back when I was 15 before… a lotta things happened. It’s why I can, well, I think I can understand your whole dynamic.” They started rambling again and sporadically moving their arms. It was too easy for him to overshare nonsense that had nothing to do with the conversation at hand.

At least xeir slip of the tongue caught the desert snake’s attention. These two working-class students were both so emotionally huddled up in on themselves, manning their defenses, to properly have a conversation. Both desperately trying to claim secrets and information from the other. (The elder trying to understand and provide comfort while the younger planning to gain back some trust, solve their puzzling nature and…. A little of something else).

Becoming so lost in their own thoughts that the clinking ice cubes in xeir drink began to melt. The only other sounds were of the occasional Scarabia students shuffling path the doors, unwilling to enter the dorm kitchen. It was well-known that the kitchens were Jamil’s domain and kingdom. Add-on the weirdly tense vibes emitting from the two beyond the door. Yeah, this wasn’t the ‘Dorm for Mindfulness’ for nothing. No one would be stepping a foot inside until the other two were long gone.

Looks like it was cafeteria of food from the Lounge this weekend.

By this time, the deep-fried delight was finished and barely cooled down before being devoured. Continuous awkward silence would give the poor magicless Perfect indigestion at this point. I guess I’ll bite first, xey thought, making up his mind.

“This…,” a deep, yet hollow sigh, “isn’t gonna work.”

“What won’t work?” Jamil cautiously prompted, taking his time to search Mac’s body language.

“If we can’t chill out and come to some kind of understanding, everyone will be bugging us for weeks. Or worse… they’ll come up with some stupid, half-baked plan to force us to work it out.” They both felt a disturbing shiver imagining their resident idiot(s) locking them in a closet, or something equally cliche. Not that Mac hadn’t tried the same exact thing before realizing set-ups only work in movies and shojou anime. That would be ridiculous.

“And what do you suggest?” He replied after thinking it over for a moment.

“Twenty questions.”

“Huh?”

“You heard me.” zeir shit-eating, mischievous, obnoxiously lighthearted grin was practically audible at this point.

“You think some adolescent party game to learn each other’s favorite color will smooth over our interactions enough to fool Vil or Rook?” was the apathetic, snarky argument the Vice Warden shot back.

Mac released a playful gasp as xey jumped to reply, “How DARE you mock the sacred ritual of 20 questions. Or how much a favorite color can provide a little insight. I would know, I passed my Intro to Psychology class in High School.” Their easy wink was all the transition needed to put the testy air behind them. Besides, there might’ve actually been a small bit of truth in xeir joking attitude.

“You’ve tested it?”

“Online dating was a complete bitch and a half. Any ‘simple question game’ keeps the conversation going and vets out creepy weirdos.”

“But I already know how strange you are,” Jamil scoffed out the quip like second nature.

“Sorry, Babydoll, but you have no idea how much of a Freak I am.” Mac shot back with a laugh at the embarrassed look ascending Jamil’s neck and over his face. He seemed to tense on instinct, but decided to push through while he could still look his older underclassman in the eyes.

“Did these type of lines actually work for you?” He asked, standing up to try to brush of his initial reaction and to get started on their dirtied dished.

“If that’s your first question, then yes! I’m pretty good at adjusting to all sorts of personality types, which is great for a hook-up but doesn’t last long when it comes to serious relationships.” Xey answered somewhat matter-of-factually but still tasted of insecurity. Mac wasn’t ashamed, per say, of the occasional good time, but was borderline unhealthy with their distraction of choice.

With that the young servant raised a judgmental eyebrow that arched with a misplaced possessive jealousy, before becoming slightly thoughtful. Jamil had gone through extensive training in order to gain (and retain) a similar skill, he supposed. Not that it was anything he’d revel to the Perfect sitting across from him. Nor did he have to explain or like the venomous feelings he was actively shoving down the back of his throat. Just another poison to keep from spilling over, he thought trying to ignore the blatant irony of the whole situation.

“How about you?” Never mind!

Mac motioned xeir hand out expectantly. Behind his smudged glasses were gentle, pleading puppy dog eyes meaning to encourage Jamil only made him curl in on himself all the more.

“Is that you’re question? Seems hardly fair to just project the same question back,” He responded in a jilted, caved-off taunt. “Shouldn’t you have enough braincells to think of your own questions… instead of making me do all the work.”

Instead of backing off—or acting offended or snapping back with an equally sarcastic response—they simply laughed. Just… laughed. It wasn’t a patronizing huff like his own or a naive giggle like whenever Jamil said something that went over Kalim’s head. Xey laughed with a heavy nostalgia and in relief of finding the groove of conversation once again.

“Sorry, sorry! The version my… friends, I think, played we’d always have to answer whatever we asked. Prevents anyone getting ganged up on or an imbalanced type of questions.” Xe replied with ease.

Jamil answered dryly in response, “I spent the majority of my life following in Kalim’s shadow; we did grow up together after all. When I wasn’t by his side I either had work, chores or school. This didn’t exactly leave a lot of room for deeper friendships, let alone dating.” Surprisingly, the majority of what he said was the true.

It wasn’t the whole truth, but true nonetheless. Equal measurements of shame and embarrassment for being a servant always made the young Viper hesitant to pursue any real relationships while in middle school. Casual friends were one thing, superficial and somewhat difficult to maintain, but achievable. Dating, however, would take his focus away from his duties to Kalim (and possibly endanger the heir)

While Jamil’s thoughts were grim and filled with resentment, the other student hummed in consideration. How the two connected to people; how they both learned how and when to respond to the people they’re forced to be around felt oddly similar. Not the same, not by a long shot, but definitely similar.

“Well isn’t that just completely depressing,” Mac started to say under her breath before quickly transitioning to their own question: “Okay, well, how ‘bout your favorite type of music?” The answer they received back was a ‘cut-the-bullshit’ type of frown. Clearly, he didn’t consider it an equal exchange.

“Okay! Fine! What was your dream job as a child?”

This time Jamil couldn’t control his reactions so seamlessly. The Vice Warden’s eyes bulged as the startled intake of breath entered his body. His entire body took on a different type of hardheadedness to guard compensate his apparent embarrassment. He’s been feeling embarrassed a lot lately.

“Oh c’mon~ Every kid had a silly dream job! I probably went through a dozen, at least. So just spill already.” Ze said, trying to urge him to uncoil the tension from his jaw.

“It doesn’t matter! I knew I was destined to remain a servant my whole life, there was no reason to bother making silly plans.” Jamil hurriedly snapped in a desperate attempt to change the subject.

“Doesn’t mean some 5-year-old Jamil didn’t want to be a firefighter at some point.” Mac countered.

“I never dreamed of being something so foolish and mundane as a firefighter…” Jamil said, raising a defiant eyebrow.

“But you dreamt to be something or the other! C’mon, Viper, throw me a bone here wouldja?”

The two stared the other down, prepared to go back and forth. Clean-up had already been finished by the end of the first question and now Jamil brought out two, small fruit plates. It was a nonverbal offering to keep the conversation going despite his own dodgy replies. How was it possible that relatively harmless banter could be pulled from a subject as touchy as his lack of childhood?

Mac’s ease and understanding, even with their awkward or overbearing, of conversation had charmed the Viper’s unsettled and distrusting nature. If xey weren’t painfully honest (and particularly bad at keeping secrets for long), Jamil would have been worried she was a spy. Whatever I tell them—Kalim’s probably already told his club members, so there’s little harm to be done, he thought begrudgingly.

“A dancer,” his soft whisper blew past the lightly dripping faucet and over the desert’s dunes. In the heart of his answer—an unexpected level of raw honesty—cascaded over the billowing heat in a brutal, stubborn calm.

Mac wasn’t surprised, but he smiled at the second year anyway. That soft look, a fresh morning dew covering the forest floor in the late spring, both cooled and energized the flustered boy. It was an expression he wasn’t often familiar with; such genuine patience and pride over 3 short syllabus was uncalled for when it came to a servant like him. Such an insignificant moment held so much weight when they looked at him like that. A sight and experience that a much younger Jamil would’ve thought impossible to even dream of.

“I’m pretty sure I wanted to be a ballerina, for a time.” A hushed excitement at their shared interest.

“Really?” He’d seen them dance and… never got that impression before.

“Yeah, for like a week. Then it was a police officer, before I found out how much running around I would have to do. After that it was an engineer; who knew there was so much math involved? For a little bit I was dedicated to become the President.” Xeir answers tumbled out easily with plenty of humor behind each one.

“… President of what?” Jamil asked in confusion.

“Of the country! There’s not a whole lotta royal families back on Earth, but anyway, Politics is messy and absolutely soul-crushing. I would probably have twenty breakdowns a month even attempting to jump into THAT cesspool!”

“Ah…” Jamil mentally noted the casual explanation over the bewildering differences between Mac’s world and his own. It wasn’t the easiest to wrap his head around a country with no king, queen, or Sultan.

“Right?! Felt like I wanted to try a little bit of everything, but I always came back to performing on a stage…” For a moment there was a wistful look in their eye before quickly being pushed away.

“… In what way? If you don’t mind me asking.”

“Oh, anyway I can. A pianist, an actress, a singer; all I wanted to do since I could remember was to entertain a crowd of people on a stage while I felt those warming lights beaming down on me.” The wistful expression was back with a small tug of a smile.

“Why tell me all of this in the first place?” Jamil knew he had already asked multiple questions at this point, but he had to know. He had to know everything that made up the strange magicless student across from him even more than he wanted to conceal himself. There was just an insatiable need to be their confidant, an archive of Mac Trivia, to just be anything xey let him be. It was strange and powerful and scared him almost as much as they intrigued him. It was an emotional tight-rope he never expected to need to walk, even now, as he studied his companion’s reaction.

“Because even if I do forget it all again, maybe I won’t have to loose myself entirely. Maybe then at least a part of my story will live on and be remembered. Why would people tell stories or gossip or do anything at all, if not for it to be at least remembered by someone?”

They both took a quiet moment to contemplate the sudden serious tone. It wasn’t the fighting or finger-pointing from earlier, but the air felt different from before. Like the next topic, which was Jamil’s to choose, would make or break the tension that was floating around all day between the two of them.

But what in the Twisted Wonderland was he supposed to ask zer after all that?!

There were so many things that still remained a mystery when it came to who Mac was or where they were from (or even why they were sent here in the first place). An uncountable amount of possible questions sped through the 2nd year’s head, trying desperately to pick the right one.

But this—this moment—was an opening to move forward from any awkwardness. Moving past the caring, nosy nuisance to a bond made of understanding. And if Jamil was honest, something he rarely was but making an effort today, than there was really only one specific he needed to know in the moment:

“The sun or the moon?”

“Huh?”

He had blurted it out less like a question and more as an overall demand. An unconscious hiss slipping from between his twisted lips and tempting tongue. Truly, an oversight considering how much the Scarabia resident was overthinking his options… he somehow lost control of his words.

“Sorry! Um… I meant to say, are you a day or night person? Basically do you prefer the Sun or the moon?” Jamil internally cursed himself as he back-pedaled. The earlier courage lost and desperately hoping to skirt passed awkward tension that might follow.

“Bullshit.” Oh for Seven’s Sake!

Mac slowly let xeir eyes glide over each of Jamil’s facial features. Thinking. Analyzing. Committing to memory the very real, very vulnerable intensity the original question had posed.

“The Sun and Moon are considered two halves of a whole, even if they aren’t necessary opposites; why should they be compared in the first place? Why put two celestial bodies against each other? Figuratively or metaphorically.”

Suddenly, the non-native Twistian held the same intensity as Jamil’s initial slip had if not more. It was the stubborn authority he felt in the laundry room—the same focus and need to understand. To be understood. To struggle with the truth while desperately, insistently, needing it to be said.

It scared him. More than hostage situations or poison testing, Mac scared and impressed Jamil more than he could describe. The fact that they were saying exactly what he needed to hear since he was 6-year-old.

“What’s so special about the moon? The sun will always outshine the moon—it can’t even make it’s own light. Then forced into the shadows without the Sun’s light.” He stated in response, trying to opposing his shaken heartbeat, but his tone sounded recited. It was a line he’d told himself time and time again as a mantra from his parents.

“I don’t think so,” the Ramshackle Perfect answered as simply as breathing, “because the moon is beautiful and mysterious and needed. It can do things even the sun cannot. Yes, the sun is beautiful and lovely and celebrated—but I don’t think you understand just how important the Moon is!”

Jamil responded in the last possible way either students expected him to: laughing his ass off. It was hand to describe any undertones of his laughter, but it wasn’t cruel or crazed like when he overblotted. A familiar bite of bitterness lingered in the air while the body of his laughter rang with astonished sincerity.

This was not the same Vice Warden that had tried to scheme against his childhood friend for a small taste of freedom. It wasn’t the snippy, exasperated retainer simply building back his reputation. Nor was it the frustrated, closed off second year that had been yelling all bout how the Perfect didn’t understand him.

He finally felt a little more free, placated and relieved, now that he’s taken a moment to grow. To learn. To feel and be validated in being his own person. Allowed to be better and show it to someone; show himself, at least partially, to Mac.

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I hope you’ve enjoyed the story so far!! This is one of the longest fiction works I think I’ve committed to! I’m between two different songs to round this story out (Blue Moon by Billie Holiday or Here Comes The Sun by George Harrison) but I have an ongoing playlist of songs that remind me of Jamil. Some of them are jokes or ironic, some a little bit more spiteful, and others that really embody aspects of his character… at least to me lol! Feel free to add random songs that make you think of Jamil and if it’s not already in the monster of a thing.

#WSSATM #twisted wonderland #twst #disney twst #disney twisted wonderland #jamil viper #writing #Mac (oc insert)#twst oc Mac #twst oc (Mac)#WSSATM ch. 3 #Jamil Viper x Mac #jamil viper x mc #twisted wonderland fanfiction #Aims Writing Library #Aim's Writing Library

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decks-writing-blog · 21 days

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The Borealis: Chapter One: How Do You Know That?

Summary: Gordon and Alyx go to the arctic to find the Borealis.

[A/N] First a disclaimer: I haven't beat Half-Life Alyx yet. I started it the same day I started writing this fic but then I got Covid and injured my side coughing. Thus there was a solid 3 week span in which I couldn't play it because I was too physically unwell to do so, thus I finished this fic without having finished the game. I know how it ends though (I accidentally got spoiled before I even started playing) but because I don't know the context surrounding that, I chose to go about achieving the same thing in a different way. Especially since said different way allows for a good opening to this fic and lets me treat the other 2 Gordon focused HL fics I've written to be canon to this fic (you don't have to read those to understand this one though). So basically, if this fic contradicts something in Alyx, that's why. I'm able to play again though (thankfully, I've been itching to continue because I love the game) so I might be able to catch some of that in editing but we'll see because I play VR games quite slowly.

Second: Half-Life 3 confirmed! Yeah, yeah, old joke, but it's relevant to me now so I'm making it again. Basically I was super frustrated that we're never going to get a canon conclusion to the Half-Life story (the Epistle 3 doesn't count, it directly contradicts what is now canon thanks to Alyx and would've changed drastically during the development of the game, so it doesn't satisfy me at all) so I thought it might be fun try to write a conclusion to the story myself. I didn't write it as a 'video game story' because it's not a video game, thus it's not really me trying to write Half-Life 3. Just me taking where Ep 2 left off and continuing the story, focusing more on the characters and their relationship because character focused writing is my strength and what I enjoy writing the most. That being said, this fic did actually push my writing skills a bit, I feel like I've improved because of it.

Also Content Warning for the fic as a whole but it also opens with Temporary Major Character Death. (Which is why the Keep Reading cut is right under this author's note.) Time resets and Gordon comes back when he dies, he Kills Himself a few times to accomplish this. Also, another far less severe warning but potentially still important: OCs pop up throughout the fic as the plot demands so if you're hard against OCs in fanworks, maybe this fic ain't for you.

Alyx sobbed over Eli’s body, pressing on his chest rhythmically… or attempting to be rhythmic, she was too frantic, sobbing too hard. Not that that mattered; the blood pooling on the ground, leaking from the hole in the back of Eli’s head made it clear just how futile that effort at resuscitation was regardless of how good it was. One couldn’t be expected to think rationally after watching a loved one die.

Shaking off the last of the dizziness, Gordon sat up. He fumbled along the ground until he found where his pistol, usually magnetized to the HEV suit’s leg, had fallen to. Lifting it, he pressed it to his forehead. Killing himself was in ways worse than someone or something else killing him but that didn’t make it any less necessary. If he had this power, he was obligated to use it for good.

Closing his eyes, he focused. Right after the rocket launch, before they stepped outside would be a good spot to return to. He pulled the trigger.

As always, he blessedly didn’t hear the gunshot or feel the bullet enter his brain; it was too fast for human senses to register, making it in other ways the best way to reset time. Instead, one second Alyx was sobbing desperately, the next everyone was congratulating themselves and each other on the successful launch of the rocket. Again to Gordon but to them it would be the first time; he was the only one who ever remembered.

Opening his eyes, he stood in front of the rocket’s command console. Through the window the trail of the rocket was still visible, the portal already dissipating. A victory for sure, one he wasn’t going to let be ruined by Eli’s or anyone else’s death.

He knocked on the desk with the metal part of the HEV suit’s glove, getting everyone’s eyes on him. Not something he did often, it was easier to let people talk even if he’d heard it before – it often gave him time to rest, even if it was only for a little while and not a proper sit down or nap – but given where the Advisors had come from it might be possible to get the jump on them instead of the other way around.

“Two Advisors are coming,” he signed. “Or are already here, waiting on the hanger roof.”

The smiles on everyone’s face dimmed. “How would you know that?” Eli, blessedly alive and well again, asked. “Not that I doubt you but… I suppose I perhaps shouldn’t ask.”

Gordon had considered telling them about his dying and resetting thing several times now but… there was no need to burden anyone else with his suffering or the news that he’d watched them die. And so it was indeed best not to ask how he knew because he wasn’t going to answer.

“I don’t see how they could possibly be here and us not know about it,” Mangusson said. “But fine, I’ll send someone to go look.”

“Send Dog.” If he could get the jump on one or both of the Advisors again, their chances were better. “I’ll go too. You,” Gordon indicated Eli, “stay with here with him.” He pointed to Kleiner.

Before Eli could try to protest or agree to the order, Alyx cut in. “You should listen to him, Dad. He knows things sometimes. It saved our lives on the way here more than once.”

“I’m inclined to agree,” Dr. Kleiner said, stepping up next to Eli. “Gordon did just kill a whole armada of striders after all. So if he says there’s danger and you should hang back, it’s probably wise to listen.”

Whether Eli even wanted to try to voice a protest or not, Gordon was already headed through the door. Alyx wasn’t far behind. As she paused to whistle for Dog, Gordon continued forward to the hanger. Upon stepping into it, it looked just as innocuous as it had before. No mental pulse, bringing a headache and distorted vision. Perhaps the Advisors were getting better at reigning that in. Unfortunate in that it meant it wouldn’t be as easy as Gordon had been thinking to know when one was nearby.

Continuing forward, he kept his eyes glued on the window the Advisors had seemingly come through. Not bothering with the elevator, he vaulted over the railing, landing with a clank on the hanger floor. He approached the helicopter.

Nothing… nothing… A loud clatter came from the roof. A moment later one of the windows shattered as Dog, clutching one of the Advisors came spiraling through it. Dog’s spare claw ripped at what looked like its face, pulling bits off, thick oil like blood oozing out.

“Holy shit.” Alyx’s voice came the right, seemingly by the entrance. “Gordon, you were right. Get him Dog! Fuck him up!”

Gordon pulled out and unpacked the rocket launcher. The second one had to be… Ah, there it was, floating through the broken window, perhaps giving chase. He loaded a rocket, aimed, and fired. With how close it was, there was no way it didn’t hit. … Except, moments before contact, the rocket veered, curving off to just barely miss instead. Damn it. Fighting these things wasn’t going to be easy, huh?

The Advisor’s trajectory changed, coming quickly towards him instead. Pain pulsed in his head, his vision blurring. The rocket launcher landed at his feet with a clatter as a now familiar force pushed on his body. It locked his limbs to his sides as it forced him up against the wall once more. Struggling was futile but he did it anyway, thrashing as much as the telekinetic force holding him would let him. Which wasn’t much.

Somewhere Alyx shouted something and a gun went off. The Advisor made a pained sound as just for a moment, the force holding Gordon vanished. It came again before he could even finish falling, pressing into his chest and making it hard to breath.

He slid along the wall, his HEV suit scraping loudly against it as the Advisor moved toward the entrance and thus presumably Alyx. A moment later she was crying out again as she was pushed up next to him. And then they were moving again, the Advisor holding them against the wall as it moved towards where Dog was seemingly finishing off its companion.

Said counterpart Gordon couldn’t see particularly well from this angle but it was on the floor, partially deflated, its blood pooling around it as it twitched and shuddered. Atop it, Dog, seemed to deem he’d done enough before turning and… too late, the second Advisor was in range. Dog’s attempted leap towards it ended abruptly, leaving him hovering in the air, held so tight, he couldn’t move.

His form shuddered and shook for a second before with a ear piercing screech of tearing metal, his body tore apart and crumpled. The light in his eye dimmed and went out before he was dropped to land in a crumpled heap of metal and still sparking wires. No sign of movement.

“Dog!” Alyx screamed, struggling just as uselessly as when she’d tried to save Eli.

With a sigh, Gordon gave up, going limp as the Advisor’s supernatural grip would let him. He’d messed up again. For how much everyone revered him, he did that a lot. If anyone knew even the half of it, they likely wouldn’t look up to him so much. Hopefully his death this time would be fast.

The Advisor turned its attention back onto the two of them. It pulled Gordon towards itself. Good; watching Alyx die was always hard.

“Don’t you dare! Leave him alone!”

If the Advisor was even capable of understanding human speech, it showed no sign of it as its tentacle slipped out of it head towards Gordon. He would’ve told Alyx to look away but well… he couldn’t. Perhaps closing his eyes would be wise but he couldn’t quite bring himself to do that either.

It turned him, eliminating the temptation to look anyway by making it impossible to as it nosed at the back of his neck. Wet and slimy, he shuddered a moment before something sharp and needle like extended out of it, forcing its way through skin and bone. His whole body jerked with it, spasming in the Advisor’s telekinetic grip. Only for a moment as as all sensation vanished, leaving him utterly numb. A pressure built in his head, almost like it was about to…

Blinking open his eyes, he was back in the rocket control room. He flexed his hands, working the shakes out of them as he took deep breaths to steady himself as best he could. Curling up in a ball and crying about it never helped anyone. If anything, with how respected he now was, it’d make it worse. Also, he just plain didn’t have time to freak out about dying for the umpteenth time even if it was a new an awful way to do so. He had to stop thinking about it.

He’d failed again but he had learned something. The Advisors could be defeated and their telekinesis had a range, a seemingly fairly short one. So he just had to get the jump on both of them and stay out of their range otherwise. Easier said than done but it was far from the first time he’d had to do something seemingly impossible. With infinite tries anything was possible. … Hopefully he wouldn’t need infinite though. Dying sucked.

Once he had himself as in control as he could make himself, he knocked the back of the desk again, once more interrupting the chatter around him. “Two Advisors on the hanger roof,” he signed. “I need Dog to help take them out. You and you,” he indicated Eli and Kleiner, “stay here.” He turned and headed for the exit.

“Wait. How do you know that?” It was Magnusson who asked this time.

Gordon didn’t bother to respond.

“We should listen to him,” Alyx said as he paused at the door, holding it for her. “He knows things sometimes. It saved our lives on the way here more than once. So we’ll handle whatever it is, don’t worry about it.”

“I’m inclined to…” Kleiner began, the rest of his sentence being cut off as the door closed behind Alyx.

She whistled for Dog as they came to a stop a short distance away. He came bounding over from wherever he’d been waiting for her. “They’re on the hanger roof, you said?”

“Yes. I want Dog to throw me at one of them while he jumps the other.”

“Uh… that sounds dangerous. Are you sure?”

“Yes.” Dog had proven twice now that the Advisors couldn’t use their telekinesis when too distracted. Gordon just had to do the same thing Dog did and they could kill both… theoretically.

Alyx frowned. “How do you know that? I mean… you were right about other times the Combine jumped us, yeah, but this is awfully specific. Not that I don’t trust you but… you know.”

If Gordon were to ever tell anyone, it’d be her. Her knowing would be helpful in some instances but… as long as she continued to trust him and would do as he asked without an explanation, he wouldn’t burden her. Dying over and over to prevent the true death of others was his trial to endure, not talking about it made it easier to bear. So… “Trust me.”

“Okay.” She sighed and turned to Dog. “Dog, there are two Advisors on the hanger roof. Gordon wants you to throw him at one of them while you jump the other one. Can you do that?”

Dog shuffled as he nodded, seemingly eager for action. Hopefully when all this was done Gordon would get a chance to finally chat with Eli about Dog’s construction and how sentient he was. Such peace seemed impossible to reach but… hopefully one day it wouldn’t.

Reaching back Gordon unhooked the crossbow from his back and unfolded it before handing it to Alyx. “Stay back. Shoot from a distance.” He handed her a bundle of bolts next.

“Got it. Good luck.”

“You too.” He turned and climbed onto Dog’s back. He locked the fingers of one hand in place just in time to not fall off as Dog took bounding off towards the hanger.

Another death and then another and another. It was not the most painful of deaths to have his brain sucked out but the violation brought its own horror, making it among the more unpleasant ways to die.

The next attempt ended with both Advisors dead but Dog was busted and broken beyond repair too. A robot, yes but… how sentient was this robot? Enough to be worth saving? Seemingly so. But more importantly, Alyx was fond of him, reason enough to save him but also, said fondness had rubbed of onto Gordon and thus he lifted his pistol and shot himself to try again.

It was three more attempts before finally, finally the Advisors were both dead without bringing anyone else with them. As with many battles, victory had largely come down to luck.

Panting for breath, Gordon shot the deflating body of the Advisor beneath his feet a few more times, emptying the rest of his loaded shotgun shells into it. Its blood was thick and in the context of being in a hanger looked not unlike motor oil if not for its source.

Reloading the shotgun, he strolled over to the other side of the helicopter. Dog was atop the other Advisor’s body. It was pounded flat already, clearly dead, but just because he was mad, Gordon emptied a few shells into what looked like where its face had once been anyway. These things sucked, pun intended.

“Holy shit, Gordon, that was awesome.” Alyx said as she ran up, still holding the crossbow.

Gordon took a hand off the shotgun to give her a quick, “Thanks.” Not for the compliment though, it hadn’t felt awesome in the least, but because this attempt wasn’t a flop solely due to her getting into position just in time to to hit the Advisor and break its telekinesis before Gordon could be forced to drop his gun again. Having a companion was endlessly a thing to be grateful for. He would move the world for her if she wanted him to.

Her having no idea the depths of what she did for him though, he didn’t express that sentiment as he instead started back for the hanger exit. He had to double check and make sure everyone was alive and thus he was free to continue.

Cleaning up the Advisors’ bodies took some time as did sending teams to patrol the whole of the White Forest base, making sure no more unwanted surprises had made their way in somehow. But once done with that, there was a rush to start getting the helicopter ready for Gordon and Alyx to leave as soon as possible before something else went wrong that might jeopardize their mission.

No time to waste with proper rest, there never was. It was always one thing after another, endlessly. They had a whole alien army to fight, a world to save. And it had to be Gordon because in everyone else’s eyes he could consistently do and survive the impossible without much issue. But even if everyone knew the truth, he was still the best one for the job based solely off the fact that with infinite retries he could ensure the outcome he wanted even if he had to suffer for it.

But if Eli, Kleiner or anyone else Gordon cared for died while he was away, he couldn’t undo it, not as easily anyway. Something that had always been the case but after watching Eli die, it now seemed more of a prevalent threat than ever before. Making the prospect of leaving difficult. But alas, this power of his gave him the best shot at reaching the Borealis and then hopefully using it to get the Combine off Earth. Or to follow Eli’s warnings and destroy it before someone else, such as the Combine, could use it. He would decide when he got there. Regardless, he had no real choice but to roll with it and let Eli bundle him and Alyx with enough supplies and equipment to hopefully get them to the Borealis.

“No Dog, I’m sorry, you can’t come,” Alyx said as they stood by, waiting for the helicopter to finish being loaded for their journey. “You have to stay here and help Dad and the rest of the resistance, okay? They need your help and uh, you’re too heavy. We gotta travel light as we can to stretch our fuel as far as it’ll go.”

Dog shuffled and did the robot equivalent of a whine, the panels on his head pulling back as if wilting. Alyx patted his head. He leaned into it, indicating once more that he was capable of feeling in some capacity, even if it was perhaps only emotional. … Gordon would’ve loved the chance to have worked on him with Eli.

“I’ll take good care of him,” Eli said. “And I’m sure he’ll take good care of us.”

“And you two take care of each other,” Kleiner added. Having had time to finish monitoring the rocket he’d come out to the hanger to see them off. “We’ll be in radio contact with you as much as we can but it’s a long way so I’m not sure how much that’ll be. So mostly you’ll have to watch out for each other.”

“Well we made it this far together, so I’m sure we’ll be fine.” Her optimism was admirable. Even if from her perspective everything had gone well, there was still so much that could go wrong.

“And remember, once you reach the Borealis don’t jump right into activating it. I still think its our best shot at winning this war but that doesn’t mean don’t be cautious about it. Try to figure out what it does first if you can.”

“And if you can’t figure out what it does, consider not messing with it at all.” Eli gave Kleiner a pointed look. The two of them were going to argue about this more once Gordon and Alyx left, huh? Hopefully it wouldn’t cause too many problems between them.

“We’ll figure it out once we get there. But I guess uh… this is goodbye for now. Gosh, I can’t believe I’m the one being sent on this. Not that I don’t wanna go but…” Alyx threw her arms around Eli. “I’ll miss you guys.”

“I’ll miss you too, sweetie.”

Pulling back, Alyx hugged Kleiner next. “Uh… yes,” he said, adjusting his glasses as he pulled back. “Be sure to come back safe as quick as you can. Bring Gordon back too if at all possible.”

“Of course I’ll bring him back. What do you mean if possible?”

“Well I mean, after the Black Mesa incident, when he killed the Nihilanth…” Kleiner trialed off as he glanced at Gordon. “You know.”

Grimacing, Alyx turned to look back at Gordon too. “Oh yeah, huh? Um… I know you guys said I don’t need to know but I think I’ve earned the right to be told why and how he was frozen in time for twenty years, especially since I’m going with him on this and thus might have to try to stop it from happening again.”

Damn! That was possible, wasn’t it? To hide his flinch, Gordon took a step back. Once done here, the man in the suit might put him back into the void until he was needed for another job. One he couldn’t refuse because the alternative was death which he came back from. The vortiguants had seemed to pull him out of the man’s hold but… how sure was that really?

He had to take a series of deep breaths to stave off the sudden need to reach for something to steady himself; there was nothing around to grab. That was something best not thought about. He could only hope for mercy at the end of this. Surely he’d earned it, right? The suited man might not care though because why would he? Gordon was just a tool to help accomplish whatever his mysterious goals were. If so there was nothing he could about that so he had to stop thinking about it. He had to finish this first, worrying about what would happen after would only make that task harder. No more thinking about that or anything else. Only what was right in front of him mattered.

“A man in a suit, huh?” Alyx was saying as Gordon focused himself back in the present. Damn it, they were still talking about him. “Does he have a… briefcase?”

“You’ve seen him.” Eli grimaced, more angry with this confirmation than shocked as he was when he’d first learned of it.

“Maybe, I don’t know. It feels like I might’ve had a dream about him or something. What does he want?”

“We don’t know,” Kleiner replied. “We have a few theories but we don’t have time to go over them right now. You two have to get going before something else comes up. There’s no time to waste.”

Another round of hugs between them, this time Alyx hugged Dog too. “We’ll talk more about this once this is all over though, got it?” She then turned and started for the helicopter.

Before Gordon could finish turning to follow, Eli stepped towards him. “Take good care of her, please. Keep her safe.”

“I will, I promise.” Gordon wouldn’t dream of doing anything different.

“Thank you.” Eli took another step towards him, opening his arms for a hug.

Gordon couldn’t properly feel it through the HEV suit but… it took all his willpower not to cling to it in desperation. The comforts of physical touch had become foreign to him. And so even as brief as the hug was, it still almost brought tears to his eyes by the time it ended.

“Take care of yourself too.”

Gordon couldn’t promise that, not with how often he had to turn his gun on himself to reset time to save someone. So instead, before he did tear up anyway, he turned away and headed for the helicopter.

From there, it wasn’t long before they were getting ready to take off. Since neither of them knew how to fly a helicopter and thus couldn’t be trusted flying all the way to the arctic, a pilot by the name of Mori joined them. Gordon was offered the passenger seat but declined, choosing the back instead. There was more room to lay down, something he really needed. Surprisingly Alyx joined him, sitting in the row of seats across from. “In case you need to say something to Mori,” she said in way of explanation without even needing to be asked.

“Thanks,” he signed. Her talking for him was probably wise.

“All right,” Mori said from their spot in the cockpit’s driver seat. “Headsets and seat belts on and then we’re off to the arctic fast as we can go.”

Gordon put the headset on – being able to hear them even when the helicopter was running was important after all – but didn’t buckle in. Instead he lay down, using one of their packs of supplies as a pillow. It wasn’t comfortable but that didn’t matter, he hadn’t had more than three or so hours of sleep at a time since the night before the resonance cascade, technically more than twenty years ago. So he was going to sleep as much as he possibly could on this flight.

Next Chapter

#Half life #half life 2 #half life 3 #gordon freeman #alyx vance

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thecheckeredchaser · 1 month

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Ch 7

Insured Gains

Chapter 8- Exceeding Expectations

Alexis approached the bars with the mantra, "nothing heavy", scanning the many choices. She was ecstatic with how the afternoon was going. For someone absolutely brand new to her interest, she felt he was playing his role perfectly. She didn't want it to end but didn't suspect he could go much longer. She was sure he was more stuffed than he was letting on, but she admired him for his pretending. There were certain signals that she couldn't ignore. She could see him giving the side of his belly, on the side closer to the wall, a gentle rub during his second helping. He'd shifted around looking for a more comfortable position to sit. She could see him playing with his belt, considering if he actually had to let a notch or two out to finish his meal. All things that encouraged her to keep it all up.

She was absolutely swimming in their banter. taunting and teasing with Jake was like playing battleship. They'd go back and forth and a ship was sunk when the other could not take the heat. They would get zinged too good to zip one back. She felt like she was thriving on it.

She returned quickly, in hopes of not giving Jake too much time to realize he was already beyond stuffed. She put the food in front of him, running her hands on his shoulder and grazing his expansive side, before sitting herself. She had caught the eye of the waiter, who had clocked her caress and seemingly took note that she was not eating herself. She offered him a raised brow and returned her attention to Jake.

"I think you might have misheard me. I'd consider a dripping alfredo pasta, with cheese stuffed meatloaf slabs and garlic bread a touch heavy," he said preparing a bite. Alexis tussled her hair, giggling.

"Yikes. Did I do that?" She said slyly. "I figured you were testing me."

"It is certainly you attempting to test me. Good thing I test myself here plenty. And I love this pasta and the meatloaf."

"It shows. Definitely got a pasta and stuffed meatloaf kind of look to ya."

"I look that fit?" he asked, humorously. The waiter came and refilled their drinks, and gave Jake a reminding look. When he left Jake looked at Alexis, debating how he wanted to play his card. He took a drink of his fresh and extra cold beverage. He sighed at its refreshing quality with a smack of his lips. He could see Lexi watching him, with an effort to come off casual, but reading to Jake as desperate. He took a deep breath, and watched how she leaned in slightly in anticipation to see a pig on display. He exhaled cautiously and smiled at her, her disappointed frustration all too obvious. "Everything ok?" He said, continuing to eat.

"Mmhmm," she confirmed, watching him closely. The sexual tension in her was building, as she assumed was the pressure in Jake's gut. He wasn't playing fair, but she didn't want to encourage him to mercilessly tease her for her desires. She knew, if she was patient enough, he'd give her what she wanted. The gas building inside of him would become too uncomfortable and he'd be trying to desperately conceal his piggish sounds. However, she had been playing the patient slow game for months and preferred to have what she wanted. And she wanted to hear and see Jake be a complete slob.

"I forgot to mention," he stared, suspending her fixation for a moment. "The waiter said they have a dessert special for us. Whenever we're ready for it." This was a successful distraction. Her brain started running with the information and decided to let Jake in on her musings.

"Wonder what kind of dessert the chef thought was perfect for a pig like you? And is it really responsible of them? Do you really need extra sugars and carbs after putting a sizable dent in their buffet line? Look at how big your bloated belly looks." Jake glanced down and gently rubbed it to truly gauge the size. He almost burped but kept it back, reminding Alexis where she was mentally, before Jake's misdirection. He appeared to dodge her eyes and put another forkful to his lips. Despite working on it consistently, the pasta seemed to maintain its space on the plate. "They are probably hoping this dessert will push you over the edge, and you'll roll yourself out one more time, too full to ever return." Jake was bright red.

"Geez," he exclaimed. "Do you practice that? Or are they the thoughts you have all the time?" He shifted in his seat again. She smiled at him, flattered.

"Not comfy?" She asked, maliciously. "Belt starting to cut in?" Jake looked at her, playfully annoyed. "I believe you said things would have to loosen up. I think it's time for el cinturón." He looked at her funny. "Your belt, big boy," she said, simultaneously slipping her nylon covered and shoeless foot onto his lap from under the table, reveling in the sensation of his belly heavily pushing into his lap, the warmth, and the tantalized and surprised look on her boss' face. He took her foot into his hand and rubbed it and pressed it to the side of his belly, as he loosened his belt a few notches, punctuated by a heavy sigh, sending his belly out a little further. He watched for Alexis' expression, which was thick with desire. She flexed her foot, pressing deeper into his belly. She could feel how absolutely tight he was.

"Ugh," she heard him grunt and watched his eyes close with pleasure. "Burrgrgrp." Alexis squirmed, her foot retracting back to the floor in excessive stimulation. He burped again, discreetly, but making eye contact. "I'm stuffed Lexi," he confessed. He still had a bit left. Alexis looked at the older man sympathetically, putting aside the absolute throbbing she felt. She would not hold him to his goal if he truly couldn't take it. He had done pretty good.

"I thought you were. I was too ambitious. You were totally scrumptious, Jake."

"Don't sound so conclusive," he said, letting out another stuffed burp. "I thought your type was supposed to help. This is where you either feed me or encourage me, unless I'm mistaken." He paused. "And I doubt that." Alexis was well surprised by his response, but slid the plate to the center. She put as much pasta and meat as would fit on the fork and slowly put it to his lips. He took the bite and made a 'mmm' sound. "Absolutely delicious. And so fattening." Alexis set up another forkful and watched Jake desperately. He swallowed and she went at him again, understanding his ability to finish was dependent on many factors, time being a major one. She felt Jake's hand brush her knee, calling her foot back to massage his belly while she fed him. Alexis didn't feel in control anymore. She kept sending the fork to Jake, who greedily took its contents, despite being a stuffed pig. Or was it because of that. She had started to reach the last bite across to him, but pulled back when she saw the waiter returning. Jake's hand squeezed her foot, and she heard him make the kind of grunt that a parent might make to their child should they be caught doing something they shouldn't. She wasn't sure if he was trying to embarrass her or himself, or if he was completely unaware of the staff member's approach. She leaned into him, following orders and pushed it into his mouth just as the waiter returned. She wiped some sauce from his lip and cleaned it off her own finger before looking at the waiter who, bless him truly, was taking in the scene with as much professionalism as he could. He clearly was taken aback by Jake, and she had to admit potentially herself.

At this point it had to be clear they were not just having an innocent and indulgent lunch. She read Jake's face, which appeared to be a bit surprised by the writer's arrival, but intrigued. She had the upper hand again. She turned back to the waiter, sending a wry smile to Jake.

"I heard there was an offer for dessert? Do you think you can handle it big boy?" Jake's face flushed, but not harder than the waiter's. Jake shrugged sheepishly. "He's got room," she said to the waiter, whose eyebrows could not go higher. He gulped hard before following up.

"One for each of you?" he asked. Alexis looked at Jake, and could sense them both playing out the scene. Order one for each. Jake eats both. But she genuinely looked at him, putting her own hunger aside. He looked like he was approaching a hard wall. She swirled her big toe on his belly flirtatiously.

"You know what," she paused, reading his tag for the first time, "Max, you have been absolutely fantastic. It's very generous, but," she said looking at Jake, who looked on the edge of his seat. "I think one to split would be perfect. We are watching our calories. Might have gone over," she said looking at Jake, offering him to play.

"Eh. I wasn't keeping track today," he said, casually, wiping his mouth with the cloth napkin. Alexis bit her lip."But something sweet would be perfect. Might regret not getting your own, darling," he said, not being able to stop the corner of his mouth curling up.

"Max, I trust you to set our dessert fate. But could I trouble you for a chocolate shake?" She could feel Max quivering under her gaze, which she had not expected. She was completely under Jake's spell and had forgotten that a lot of men found her attractive, and frankly that they existed outside of the capacity to facilitate her time with Jake. She smiled and returned her attention to Jake Andrews. Max hurriedly walked away.

"You're bold," he said, breathing out as if he too had been holding his breath.

"You're not?"

"I'm nothing but fat and full right now," he sighed. "I am still amazed that this is something people really do."

"Jake, we're doing it. You planned it."

"I did. Guilty," he admitted. Max returned with the milkshake and a large slice of chocolate cake, dripping in a fudge and cherry sauce. "Oh Max. That looks amazing." Max said he'd pass it onto the chef and left them to their dessert. Jake gave a steadying huff and picked up his fork, eyeing hers. "You wouldn't pass on the opportunity to actually share it with me, would you?" Alexis felt a rush, as lust was surpassed by her craving for romance. Love even. She smiled sweetly at him and picked up her fork.

"I couldn't Jake," she said warmly. He smiled at her and took another bite.

"This was fun," he said, confidently reaching for her milkshake. He took a long sip and stared at the cup astonished. "Wow. Truly amazing."

"More than fun," she agreed. They chatted and went bite for bite until Jake gave a heavy sigh, paired with a gravelly belch. Jake simultaneously cringed and laughed.

"I don't know if I can finish this," he said, placing his hand under his belly. "Uuurp."

"You've more than reached your goal. You are unbelievably sexy," she cooed.

"Am I?" he said, taking the milkshake again, with lowered eyes.

Ch 9

"You know you are. You have been driving me absolutely wild. I can't believe how much you packed away today. A genuine pig Jake. You must be so stuffed." She watched him finish the shake, feeling herself get excited thinking of how it was filling the gaps in his belly, if there were any at all. She snorted at him, and he responded with a long burp.

"I'm beyond stuffed," he said looking at the hunger in Alexis' eyes. He glanced down at the last two bites, with inspired drive. He took a forkful into his mouth, noting the tension of Alexis' fingers on the table. She was going to lose her grip on reality if she didn't hold the table tight. He finished the last bite and dropped the fork with a clatter. He leaned to one side and took out his wallet, with a slightly pained groan. Before Alexis could gain the nerve to speak and think again, Jake had paid, and made his way to his feet, with the help of morr grunting. "Lexi, I'd like to get to another location pretty soon," he said gently, putting a hand on her shoulder. He pulled her to her feet and adjusted his jacket when her eyes became glued to his distended belly.

"My goodness. I hope it's to bed," she said dreamily.

"Glad you agree."

Ch 9

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thedarkmistress16 · 11 months

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Hetalia x Fem!Pronouns!Reader- (Literally) Dropped Into Anime

Found the last APH thing I wrote about (years ago) and since I threw myself full-force back into the fandom again, I expanded this overdone concept for fun. And I was so happy with the writing style that I made myself write up to (at least) 5k words before posting this chap as a neat lil' personal challenge. Otherwise, I would've had this up a few days ago because holy shit I originally completed this part in two days??!?!!!?

Anyway, fem!pros here because that's how I roll with male characters x reader things, so substitute away~! Reader's life is kept vague on purpose but that may change in the future, and nothing about personal appearance is mentioned here. And reader swears because reader is an adult and is tired.

Chapter 1- Okay, So, I’m Here Now…

You were at home, content that you had a few days off to your name and a stomach filled with a delicious breakfast. Today, you would put yourself up to the task of completing work you had put off for quite a while. No social calls allowed! You had that luxury last week. This time, it was going to be all about what you will accomplish for the next few days. You happily rolled up your sleeves- figuratively, of course, it was summer after all- and got to work.

You got around to completing half of the first job’s workload until you suddenly felt an extreme bout of tiredness hit you.

You tried to fight it off, desiring to get back to what you were initially doing, determined to actually follow through on your own promise to yourself this time. You were an adult after all, with loads of different responsibilities that were all waiting to be finished when you clocked out each day. It was just depressing how many things you had to take care of now, compared to when you were a carefree adolescent who, ironically, only had to worry about growing up.

The supplies you were just using with ease completely fell out of your hands as your shoulders slumped. You started to walk out of the room to find an energy supplement.

Sometimes you wondered how you even had a lick of time for yourself anymore.

A weak groan escaped your lips, and your hand rose to your forehead to massage the irritating thumping that began blossoming there. Okay, maybe you needed to pop some aspirin, too.

Life really sucked sometimes.

Did you overwork yourself again?

Your pace slowed to a sluggish shuffle.

Did you remember to stock your groceries this week?

Fuck the drink, you were way too tired now for it to even take effect. Your feet pivoted in another direction, feeling yourself start to surrender to your own body’s wills.

Still, who were you to complain?

How were you so careless to do this to yourself again?

You struggled to keep your balance as you reached the doorway of your bedroom. You don’t remember being so tired you could barely walk.

You had a job, buddies, a family, your own place… you were doing good for yourself!

You should’ve just gone out with your friends or treated yourself today. Why did you have to go and spoil it with work? Now you can’t even function properly and the whole day will be skewed now.

Your eyes caught the proximity of your bed and they immediately drooped, almost closing completely on you and your head bobbed dangerously.

Others had it worse than you… probably…

You really suck at taking care of yourself, huh?

And despite your best efforts to fight off the looming cloud of exhaustion that was trying to overtake you, flopping onto your bed and crashing into a dreamless state of mind became entirely inevitable. You vaguely feel yourself free-falling through your mattress before losing consciousness completely.

When you were on the verge of waking up, you heard muffled voices buzzing over your head, all a jumbled mess and becoming way too damn noisy as the seconds ticked by. You cringed at the uptick in loudness and made a sound between a moan and groan in a displeased protest. Your body reflexively turned away from the disturbance to your sleep, rolling over to turn your back to that side. Only you felt hardness on your body where you suddenly remembered that’s where your soft bed was supposed to be. You sat up with your eyes still closed, mumbling to yourself at how you probably fell off the bed again, silly, and thought it none the wiser. And you yawned yourself awake- stretching your arms upward as the sound moved past your throat and dropping them when you felt content.

It took a second for you to open your eyes and really see what you were actually looking at, but when you did, you froze in place. You cautiously moved your head around in different directions to find that all of the characters of a certain anime you once watched were staring right at you in utter silence- and you realized that you were in the conference room of the United Nations, sitting smack-dab on their table in the middle of their meeting.

While everyone was shocked into silence as you finally woke, a sole clearing of a throat could be heard down on your right. You all turned to see the character known as Germany straightening himself, shifting his posture in the chair he sat in. In doing so he gave away how uncomfortable he clearly felt, and turned to you. His eyes, while ice cold in color, held no hatred or disdain- but rather a strong curiosity, from what you could detect.

“I’m sure everyone’s wondering this, but, who are you?”

You never liked this question exactly; not whoever said it, particularly, but you never really knew how to answer it. How much information are you supposed to give? What were they looking to hear?

Never mind that this was the English dub of Hetalia you were currently in, apparently- how were you going to describe yourself to these people when you were still trying to figure it all out for yourself? Not to mention getting around to explaining how you even got here?

You didn’t notice that throughout your thinking session, you had been staring blankly at the German and letting out a very unattractive “uhhhhhhhhhh…” for god knows how long.

Someone’s fingers snapped in front of your face while a voice shouted at you irritably. “Hey- you! Ragazza! Speak, dammnit!”

“Uh?!” The sudden outburst from the brunette shattered your thoughts so badly that you yelped and fell back onto the table. You blinked wildly as your heart pumped harder from the adrenaline, feeling more shocked and startled than before. Your eyes struggled to refocus from the blind-sighting motion.

If you weren’t awake before, you definitely were now.

“Were you even paying attention?!” the same voice chided.

Really?!

Oh, like he wouldn’t be just as dumbstruck as you if he was in your shoes.

You had half a mind to-

Before you could muster a response that your brain was itching to let you unleash, another similar, accented male voice piped up. “Ah, fratello! Be nice to her! The poor bella doesn’t know where she is!”

You were still breathing heavily as you were slowly pulled up from laying down on the table, now with your legs loosely tucked beneath you as you shuffled with the movement. You now found yourself leaning toward one side as your shoulders were embraced by a certain Italian who smelled like an assortment of spices, but mainly oregano. You were too ashamed at your earlier display to even entertain a look- even if you had only watched one episode of the series in your life, you knew who he was.

“Wow, you’re really pretty! I’ll call you bella!” He squished you even tighter and you flailed on instinct as your balance had faltered when he pulled you closer. You weren’t sure if you wanted to melt into a puddle due to your own embarrassment or from his expressive adorableness. And while you weren’t stellar at the implications of him considering you as a pet, you really couldn’t find it inside yourself to be mad at him for it.

Despite all this, and being treated kindly by one of the anime’s protagonists out of all the nations in the room, you still felt uncomfortable being hugged by a Hetalia character that shouldn’t even exist. It was unnatural to even feel him, let alone have him talking to you directly.

You almost felt as if you were breaking a law of some sort.

Speaking of, you were hyperaware of the stares you were still getting around the whole table, and they weren’t helping matters, either.

“Uh, that’s not my name…” you start awkwardly, suddenly not sure how to talk to him. You chanced a peek at his face then, catching a glimpse of that iconic strand of hair curling away from his head.

“Oh?” Italy slackened his grip to tilt his head and look at you. “What's your name?”

Whether he actually had his eyes opened or not as he addressed you, you felt flustered for a reason you couldn’t explain and looked down again. “_. My name is _.”

“Ve~! That’s such a pretty name, _!”

Classic Italy.

You softly laughed with a blush at his behavior feeling a little lighter at his genuine fondness. You began trying to wiggle out of his tight grip a bit, partly from being watched so intently by the others and partly because you needed some space to breathe and not think about Northern Italy’s touch.

You failed, but hey, it was the thought that counts.

“_? Where did you come from?”

Your soft smile from Italy’s attitude died with the question that was spoken somewhere behind you, which you correlated to China. You didn’t care enough to look, as more of the reality of your current predicament carelessly unraveled itself in your head.

What the hell were you supposed to say? That you were from a world where everything that was currently happening wasn’t real?

Or what if it was fact and you’ve never known that these characters were walking on the very streets you walk on for your entire life? Did you cross paths with them without yourself knowing?

Was this a vital secret that could endanger your very existence if you told?

Were you even in your world anymore? How many things that you’ve lived your entire life by have altered or ceased to exist here?

“I wish I knew,” you absentmindedly whispered, eyes roving over the individual grains which made up the table you were kneeling upon. If you squinted, you could barely pinpoint your blurry reflection contrasted with the muddy blue form of Italy’s uniform on the glossy finish.

Your mind had blanked then; afraid of the future and all its possibilities.

What was the use of marveling at fiction coming to life and being a part of that experience when you had no idea what would become of you here?

And how would these personifications actually treat you? Would they be as the canon depicted? They seemed to act like it so far, but how could you really tell if it was a facade unless you knew them more? On top of that, would you even be accepted?

Did you even exist at all as another version of yourself? Did you end up switching with that person?

How did you end up here in the first place? What triggered this?

…

Could you even go back?

England, who was seated a little ways from you on the opposite side of the table, inspected your slouched form intently. Italy had rephrased the earlier question China posed, in a softer tone laced with worry and apprehension. He nudged you lightly as he still held you, treating you as if you were now made of something fragile. You had heard him but did not visibly react. You were still too lost in your own head to focus on your surroundings.

The British nation spoke up in an expressionless fashion, his chin resting in his hand as his fingers tapped rhythmically upon the table. “No. She doesn’t have any magical properties, but I know for sure that she isn’t from this world…” He sensed his magical friends hovering next to him with curious looks, turning their heads back and forth between the two of you as if willing the answer to suddenly appear before them.

The other nations moved their focus to England, spouting their own opinions that quickly overlapped into a loud discussion and lessened the attention on you. You perked up at Englishman’s words, about to say something, but the vowels fizzled out on your tongue with an ashy aftertaste that had you grimacing.

It was true, of course. But you had no idea if he meant it as a good or bad thing, and whether that knowledge would cause the nations would take pity on you or keep you under constant scrutiny was uncertain. And that apprehension won over any potential excitement felt from the opportunity of interacting with the countries.

At least, more than necessary, that is.

“If that’s true, England, then we should decide where _ is going to stay for the time being,” Germany declares, cutting through the murmuring. He met your eyes briefly before surveying the rest of the room. “Any suggestions?”

“She will become one with me, da?”

Everyone shivered in unison and you actually felt the temperature in the room change drastically. You willed yourself to look in the direction of the nation, even as your instincts screamed at you to do anything else but that.

“Um, I think we should hear what other countries have to say first, Russia.” A meek, European voice toward the Russian’s left replied, vibrating so badly that you wondered if he would explode on the spot if he was touched ever so slightly.

Russia was expressionless for a moment, seemingly glaring at the opposer, before facing the others again with a pleased smile and responding ominously.

“Very well. I’m patient.”

You couldn’t suppress the shiver if you tried.

The awkwardness in the air heavily permeated the room until another nation broke it.

“Well, what about me?”

And then a chorus of every opinion under the sun reached your ears like an uproar at a concert. A lot of the same phrases, colorful insults, and familiar names looped occasionally past your ears, not unlike a skipping record with some deep scratches that were beyond fixing yet still in a state playable enough to justify keeping it.

It felt… odd, to refer to them as their names, you realize. Even in the safety of your own thoughts, it was too personal. You cringe at yourself, feeling very out of place, as you kept picking up tidbits of the bickering around you.

“Italy! Let her breathe and get down from the table!” Germany chastised, contributing to the other voices and making Italy plead like a petulant child. Upon Germany’s intense insistence, which consisted of raising his voice to an aggravated shout, Italy quickly relented in fear, quaking in his boots.

Though you weren't sure if he caught it, you sent the Italian an apologetic smile as he dejectedly detangled his arms from you and clambered off the shiny wood surface. You almost thank Germany for pulling you out of the spiraling thoughts you started to have again, before stopping yourself. You let out a breath and closed your eyes, taking a moment to calm yourself as overlapping accents from all kinds of lands buzzed around you.

Feeling more refreshed, you brace yourself for any future animated shenanigans before focusing back on the world around you. When you opened your eyes, a palm shoots forward right in front of you, stopping inches away from your body. As your eyes trailed forward and up the protruding arm, you quickly pieced together that it belonged to the Italian who was shouting at you earlier. He was now looking red in the face, refusing to meet your gaze yet flickering his eyes to you every so often as he addressed you.

“Well, ragazza? What are you waiting for?” His tone was still harsh-sounding, but softer now with how he was grumbling his words.

Right. He was offering his assistance in getting you down from the table.

You took his hand gently, moving to sit in an empty chair right next to him. After settling yourself, you turned to Romano to find him peering at you from his peripherals. You smiled at him gratefully, the appreciative words flowing easily past your tongue. “Thank you, sir.”

He somehow turned redder, sputtering like a faucet, as if indecisive on what to say before finally settling on, “prego, dolcezza.”

You had no idea what that meant exactly but felt happy all the same at his attitude toward you now. If this was his way of apologizing for scaring you earlier, he was doing a great job of it so far.

Well, for him, that is.

Among the uproar of conversation around you, the Italian spoke up again.

“Call me Romano, ragazza. Si?” He seemed to add this as an afterthought and didn’t look at you as he did so.

You were surprised he chose to introduce himself to you at all, blinking at him before expressing your happiness at his permission to use his name. Though it wasn’t his real one, it was still progress. “Grazie, Romano, please call me _, then,” you softly respond with the minimal amount of Italian you knew from fans' contributions, hoping the slight accent you put on it wasn’t choppy and unpracticed as it actually was.

Thank you Hetalia fandom!

He mimics your expression as he whips his head around, his long curl bobbing and swaying with the motion. He likely didn’t expect you to respond in his language, you conclude as you stare at his persistent curl. He sharply turns away and grumbles incoherently. You softly giggle to yourself so as to not offend him in case he heard you. You didn’t remember his tsundere side to be so adorable.

“... _ will not be staying with them. Who else?” Germany announced, and you were quickly tuned back into the current conversation.

You had no idea why your appearance became a discussion of which country you would be staying with at a world meeting so fast, especially without trying to get to know you first, but you were grateful enough to not complain about it. Figuring out a place to stay now eliminated most of the stress from your situation. It would also give you some mental and physical space to breathe from the other nations, and allow you time to decide on your next course of action.

“Well obviously,” England declared, shifting in his seat and crossing his arms haughtily, “she will be staying with me. I clearly know more about her situation than you lot.”

Okay... that was, presumptuous of him…

And while that smug look he sported was attractive in his own way, you were hesitant on sharing a home with someone who thought so highly of himself. You weren’t looking to be demeaned just for something out of your control, like being unknowledgeable in magic or something.

There was a collective beat of silence, and then one soul announced his thoughts. “She’s not eating your food,” the person deadpanned. The others silently nodded in a strange sense of unity.

Even though you didn’t say anything, you definitely agreed with that sentiment. You didn’t mean to judge him from the creator’s blatant stereotyping, but that was the bread and butter of the series, which meant England’s food would pose a real risk to your health if you dared to try it here.

And you felt a twinge of guilt toward the Brit at the thought, knowing it was a sore subject for him from the constant ridicule he got on it. That was until you heard his rebuttal.

“I’ll have you know that British cuisine is eons ahead of what you gits call ‘food.’ You lot are just unappreciative, uncultured-”

Okay, just because he’s objectively outnumbered doesn’t mean he needs to insult-

“So England’s out and he doesn’t get a vote. Who else has recommendations?” Germany resolutely cut through England’s sentence and your thoughts with a tired sigh, and you got the sense he wanted all this to be over already.

Wait. Did your appearance extend the time of their meeting?

…

Whoops.

Out of the corner of your eye, you amusedly watched England’s expression morph from cockiness into flabbergasted offense, before switching to mock indifference. He huffed and turned his head away. You thought he was also muttering something, likely a few choice words a gentleman probably shouldn’t say, before you stopped analyzing him in case you were caught staring.

Though their options were more limited now, it seemed the nations were at a loss of who to elect next, as there was a long stretch of silence that stretched throughout the room after quickly denominating England.

You almost forgot how savage they could all be when they tried…

“Since our guest won’t be staying in the hideous country of Britain, she is more than welcome to stay with me in the beautiful city of Paris!” A male clad in purple and red spoke up with a dramatic swish of his head, flaunting his long, blond hair as he winked at you.

The response was immediate.

“There’s no bloody way she’s staying with you, frog! Knowing you, you’ll try to pull something disgraceful on her, and I won’t allow it!”

You stiffened a bit and blinked at the loudness in England’s tone, surprised at how quick he was to be angry at France’s suggestion.

England hating France was a given, but…

Was he trying to defend your honor or was he that hurt at being shot down by the others?

No one else had volunteered to speak up despite them collectively deciding England had no say anymore, and let the argument between the two nations play out like two actors on stage.

France pouted at England’s outburst. “Seriously Angleterre,” England bristled at the nickname, “you really think so lowly of me? I thought we were friends, non?”

The Brit thinned his lips in disapproval before responding lowly. “Being allies doesn’t make us friends, you bugger. I’m only saying that there are far more superior lands for her to occupy than your poor excuse for a ‘classy’ city.”

France, while clearly agitated by the underhanded insult, then smoothed his expression elegantly before he specifically turned to you with a smile, his eyes roving over what he could see of your form. It was then you realized he has been the first to do so since this conversation about your living situation started- not counting Germany, as he didn’t throw his territory into the mix.

“Well, since my beautiful homeland is being unjustly slandered by a classless fiend who thinks drab colors are fashionable,” he paused to sharply glare at England, who exhaled indignantly, before turning back to you with a warm expression. “Would you like to stay with my dear Canada, mon amie?”

Wow.

That… was perfect, actually.

Holy shit why didn’t you think of that?

The murmurs around you died down a bit, anticipating your answer, but you couldn’t pick up any of it, having all of your attention on France’s gracious offer. While you knew he did so because he wouldn’t have been nominated otherwise even if he was there, you had a good intuition that Canada would be kind to you- even if he was opposed to the idea of your intrusion in his space. It would give you time to think about this whole mess, and staying out of the other nation’s ways with a country they barely remembered at the same time was a bonus.

And the fact that France put your consent into consideration?

Was it possible to love someone within five minutes of meeting them?

You looked at France like he held the moon and stars, feeling your heart soar with relief. “If he doesn’t mind and you really think it’s okay, then I’d love to stay with him.”

He visibly brightened, “bon! C'est merveilleux! I’ll tell him rapidement and see you off! Tres bien!” France jumped from his seat, utterly giddy with delight and falling more into his natural tongue as he pulled out a phone and fiddled with it.

For some reason, your ears picked up some select, dejected groans at France’s words and you wondered if they were upset they didn’t get a say-

Wait. See you off?

…

Looks like you’re going to Canada, then.

France continuously gushed about you and his younger brother the moment you stepped outside of the meeting’s doors and after fully updating Canada on the situation. He was done so quickly that the other nations didn’t have a chance to properly interrogate you before France moved into your personal space and whisked you out of the room. He was now gliding through the halls with unbridled excitement and you almost thought he would break out into a dance, once again imagining him as a performer in his element.

You would’ve been annoyed by the constant chatter if he didn’t also include you in the conversation just as often, actively inquiring about your preferences in various topics. You appeased him and you both shared anecdotes of your life when appropriate, sharing laughs at your misfortunes and his recounts of fighting with England paired with their creatively petulant jabs toward each other.

His overuse of cologne was more tolerant the longer you stayed in his presence; your nose attributing the distinct smell of fresh rose bushes and lavender crops decorated in a morning’s dew became- to you- a mental signifier of France’s outlook on life. As he explained to you how he saw and embraced the beauty of the world around him, you felt as if you were learning about him for the first time with a pair of new eyes. It was admirable how he could express himself as such without any effort on his part, and you concluded that his soul was gentle- and his heart was bursting with such a strong amount of genuine love that it could not be contained and overflowed into all aspects of his daily life.

Then you remembered his pitiful attempts to stand up to Germany and you laughed to yourself.

You realized you were having such a nice time in the Frenchman’s presence that you had no idea how much time had actually passed as you two traveled. You also figured out where you were this whole time, which was right before the Canadian border. And the trip itself wasn’t long at all, because you were just a couple of cities over from where France’s little brother lived in.

France actually didn’t stop talking your ear off until you were both standing in front of Canada’s plot of residence; and as you followed his lead in approaching the quaint building, you grew curious as to why France had suddenly grown quiet now of all times.

“What’s wrong, Francis?” He had elected to give you his name almost immediately after leaving the conference room, insisting that you use it. He clarified that there was no need to be formal when you would be close to him and his family from now on, and that admission had you smiling stupidly and feeling a lot more at ease.

France seemed to realize he was thinking pensively and cleared it away by shaking his head with a sad smile. It was an expression that had you sobering from your relaxed state due to the bought of nostalgia his face brought to your memories.

“You just… look sad, cherie.” The seriousness in his words threw you off. When he turned to look at you, you also caught some sympathy glistening in his eyes.

Oh. The closest he could’ve seen you smile was when Italy was comforting you earlier, or perhaps as you swapped stories.

Was he able to figure that much out about you with just one look? Or were you accidentally playing your emotions for everyone? How many of them actually knew what you were thinking in that room?

You tried to manage a half-smile at France, but it was entirely too weak and wobbly on your muscles to hold properly. So you dropped the expression and settled on a casual shrug, avoiding his gaze to watch your foot carelessly scuff itself across the sparse grass that decorated the dirt. “I’ve just got a lot on my mind, that’s all.”

Even if you could sort through it and unpack it all right now, it was the completely wrong time to do so.

Ha. Where would you even begin?

France hummed, as if taking your words into consideration before trekking toward the front porch. He reached out to rap on the front door in a one-two pattern. Silence hung heavy in the air before a creak from inside the house broke the atmosphere.

As the door was opened, you were faced with a male who looked very similar to France. The strong smell of maple wafted from him, followed by a spicy or smokey undertone that felt refreshing. Apart from his more violet eyes, round glasses, his comfy style of dress consisting of a red flannel and plain, gray sweats, and the single curl drooping from the parting of his hair, he resembled more of France’s features, not unlike the Italian brothers.

Canada looked tired but perked up the moment France’s exuberant greeting caught his attention. When he looked over and realized you were standing there as well, he became more alert and bashful for some reason.

“Matthieu! Bonjour mon frere, this is the lovely _ I told you all about.”

You waved on cue from France’s welcoming flourish, smiling pleasantly at your new roommate. “Hi, it’s nice to meet you, Canada. France told me a lot of good things about you.”

You knew a lot more about Canada than France ever told you on the trip here, of course, but he didn’t need to know that. The last thing you needed was to make things more awkward than it already was, especially with someone like Canada, who would likely combust on the spot out of nervousness if you did.

“Nice to meet you, _.” Canada spoke, in a much softer tone and higher pitch than France. It was clearly hard for him to hold eye contact with you and not warble with his words at the same time, but you thought it was endearing.

You attempted to match Canada’s aura as you responded, trying to sound as accommodating as you could. “I hope my staying here won’t be too much of a bother, Canada. I know this is short notice. I’ll do what I can to try not to annoy you or get in your way. I don’t plan on intruding in your own space during my stay, and I hope we get along.”

Canada flinched and shuffled in place, and the shift in his expression told you he was more surprised than offended at your words. He seemed to actively attempt to maintain eye contact with you now, even smiling slightly. “Oh, you can call me Matthew if you like. And I think we’ll get along too, _. I actually hope I won't be a bother for you. I know some people don’t like my company and would rather hang out with others instead…” He raised his arm to rub the back of his neck bashfully.

He was probably the most normal nation you could ever hope to room with in this predicament and you couldn’t be happier at the thought.

“Not at all! I think you’re very easy to talk to, Matthew.”

And as you gaze at the Canadian, you see past scenes of him from the anime he belongs to flashing through your mind like an edited short film. You realize then that while those words had completely slipped out of your mouth on accident, you truly meant it now just as you did then as a first-time viewer.

You both share a laugh at the ease of tension any first, awkward meeting brings as France observes the scene contently. He beamed at the praise you gave him and was delighted to witness your politeness towards Canada, further cementing that letting you stay with his beloved younger brother was a great decision on his part.

You will definitely be visiting his home next.

That black sheep of Europe can suck it.

France bid you adieu, quite literally, and skipped away like a giddy schoolgirl. You could almost see the flowers and sparkles surrounding his body from the pure elation he emanated. You giggled at France’s departure as Matthew invited you inside.

Maybe this won’t be so bad after all.

#moi writing #aph #hetalia #i aint tagging every character LOL #hetalia x reader #hetalia x you #i can't be bothered with accent marks here either

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