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sc0tters · 5 months

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Baby Fever | Matthew Tkachuk

summary: on your wedding day Matthew thought he’d get you to himself, but seeing you with his cousins gives him an idea he just had to see through.

kinkmas: day four (breeding)

warnings: sexual themes, p in v, nipple play? swearing.

word count: 2.18k

authors note: can we believe that this is my first wedding fic? sorry it took so long but I think we got to a good place! Matthew is a man I haven’t written for a lot but I love it when I do get to. If you want to read more from kinkmas you can find the masterlist here!

You knew you had always wanted a winter wedding.

The cold had been your favourite kind of weather as it meant you could sit at a fireplace with a blanket over your lap. Now living in Florida you weren’t promised your white wedding, but Matthew found a cabin that you two had fallen in love with. After being together for five years and countless jokes from his family as they would ask how Matthew got you locked down and even moving to a different country for him.

A mere six years ago you started off as his neighbour who knocked on his door early one Saturday morning as you needed eggs to fulfill your pancake recipe. In return for those eggs he got himself a free breakfast that morning and your number after weeks for trying to muster up the courage to talk to you.

Yes you, the girl set on pursuing her dreams was the one who made Matthew a mess.

Now you were sat a few seats across from him as his younger cousins giggled recounting the story of how Matthew was in love with you “hey now let’s not embarrass me to my wife.” Matthew shook his head as his hand squeezed your shoulder “can we talk for a bit?” He asked motioning to you to follow him “I’ll be back.” You offered the girls as you nodded “didn’t know I’d be chasing my wife on my wedding day.” The hockey player mumbled as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders as he pressed a kiss to your head.

It made you smile “what can I say I’m a hot commodity today.” You teased as you two began to head outside where it was quiet “are you okay?” You furrowed your eyebrows sensing that something was on his mind “can’t get over how fucking gorgeous my wife is.” His confession made you scoff as your cheeks turned red “Matty.” You warned as his hands went dangerously close to your ass.

He laughed as he leaned down to kiss your lips “let’s go to the room.” Matthew proposed as you were all staying at the hotel tonight.

But of course you stood there like the good wife that you were as you shook your head “what about our guests?” You whisper yelled as his hand pressed against your lower back pushing you in the direction of the elevator “if anyone asks you can tell them I wasn’t feeling well.” He rolled his eyes pressing the button that illuminated your floor number as he waited for the elevator doors to shut before you dared to lay a hand on your now husband.

However Matthew didn’t feel the same way as you as he turned to you with a grin placing his hands on either side of your face as he leaned down to kiss you “fuck you’re so pretty.”He groaned swiping his tongue across your lower lip as you moaned into his kiss.

You two remained like that as the boy peppered kisses along your jaw and neck “I need to open the door Matt.” You coughed as you struggled to grab the keycard from his pocket.

Matthew opted to behave for a few minutes offering you your focus as you huffed opening the door as you both pushed in not letting your feet stop you until you were met with the couch. He took the opportunity to unzip your dress revealing your white lingerie “god.” Matthew mumbled watching as you stepped out of your dress that was now a mere blob on the floor. Leaving you in your underwear and heels.

What you didn’t expect was that he’d move to sit on the couch before he dared to touch you once more “c’mere.” Matthew motioned to you to sit on his thigh as he spread his legs open stretching the fabric of his pants over his muscular legs.

Your mouth watered as you straddled his thighs “so glad to finally have you all to myself.” The hockey player smiled as you gripped at his shoulders “been yours all along.” You quietly clenched your legs as his thigh bucked beneath your clothed cunt.

His lips brushed over yours “been thinking about you all damn day.” Matthew nipped at the skin of your neck forcing your breath to be caught in your throat “what about me?” You groaned feeling his eyes undress the little amount of clothes you had left on.

Matthew let his fingers brush over the strap of your bra “these boobs.” He began pulling the straps to your arms revealing your nipples that peaked from the cool air that hit them. His smirk looked up at you as you whimpered pinching your lower lip between your teeth as you oozed anticipation “please.” You begged giving Matthew a nod as his lips latched onto your left breast leaving his tongue swirling around your nipple.

His eyes fluttered shut as relief painted his body as he hummed at the taste of you on his tongue. Matthew continued his movements sucking and swirling the sensitive bud until you’re slick with his spit rocking your hips against his thigh. Your chest is heaving as you whined feeling goosebumps prick at your skin. Heat shoots from within you and it settles in between your legs “fuck!” You moaned making him sink his teeth against your nipple.

Matthews lips were plump as he brought his hand up to cup your other breast to equally share his attention with “gonna make a mess on your pants.” You warned tugged your fingers through his curls as he rolled your nipple between his fingers.

If this was any other day Matthew would have watched your eyes roll back into your head as you came by the mere flex of his thigh. But as his cock throbbed against the fabric of his pants and the knowledge that your loved ones would soon notice your disappearance “baby I need to fuck you so badly.” Matthews confession made you moan as you nodded.

Within the blink of an eye Matthew had his shirt unbuttoned and his belt unbuckled as you pulled his cock out from under his boxers “been thinking about your tight little pussy too.” The hockey player watching in awe as you drove the head of his cock over your clit making your body shake with pleasure “what about it?” You groaned smiling to yourself as you let your cunt swallow his cock as your walls adjusted to his size.

Foreheads pressed together as it seemed you both forgot how to breathe. The mere gesture of embracing each other almost being too much for you both but he couldn’t handle it as the first to pull away “how you’d look so full with my babies.” Matthew cupped your stomach brushing his thumbs over where your uterus sat beneath your skin. It was a topic that neither one of you had ever gone into depth with as you both agreed that kids would be in your futures “how your breasts would grow full.” You began to move your hips as you smiled settling into your rhythm.

Matthew watched as your eyes adjusted to the dim lights that lowly illuminated the room around you both “I want you to put a baby in me Matthew.” You pleaded clenching around his cock at the thought “want to be full of your come.” You had gone off of the pill last month as you knew you were getting to the stage of wanting kids, now it was beginning to matter that he wasn’t wearing a condom either.

It was hot hearing those words fall from your lips “I’m gonna fuck my pretty little bride so hard she forgets her name.” As soft as Matthews words were you knew it was a serious promise when he picked you up and lay you on the couch bringing himself back to the driving seat of this moment. Your response came in the form of a yelp as Matthew wrapped your legs around his waist “please Matt.” You begged as his pace ruined your once slow one.

The hockey player was desperate to fulfill his desires of seeing you full as he watched his cock bottom you out, hitting your g-spot resulting in your moans painting the walls. Sure to be heard by anyone who dared to be on this floor away from the party. It was dirty how your swollen lips and squashed curls that pressed against your back acted like encouragement to Matthew as he laughed “and to think you acted like you wanted to be down there with all of them.” The hockey player clicked his tongue as he shook his head mocking the innocent act you upheld when you were downstairs smiling at his parents like you didn’t have thoughts of having their son between your legs.

With the only response you allowed to let leave your lips being in the form of whines “but now you’re sat here fucking my cock dumb.” Matthew cupped the back of your head bringing you even closer to him as your hand went behind your bodies finding your clit “want it so bad.” You felt your breathing grow irregular as you struggled to focus “fill me up Mat.” You pleaded beginning to cry as pleasure built up in your body.

Those words were like butter to your husband who tugged at your lower lip between his teeth “won’t last when you speak like that.” Matthew groaned shaking his head as your cunt clenched around his throbbing cock “me too.” You stammered feeling the room around you grow hot as your legs began to shake.

Sounds of skin slapping echoed between you both as your face began to contort “go ahead baby.” Matthew ordered as his cock could only handle so much of this before he came himself “milk my cock pretty girl.” His tongue swiped over your ear lobe finally sending you over the edge.

Low grumbles left your lips as you clamped around his cock in spurts as the movements of your fingers strumming against your clit struggled to keep you focused “s-shit Matt.” You croaked out as your vision went blurry making your eyes screw shut as white specks cascaded over your eyelids “don’t stop.” You pleaded finally getting shut up when he embraced your lips in a hungry kiss.

Matthew wasn’t far behind you as his chest began to grow tight but at the moment he was focused on fucking you through your orgasm “such a pretty girl.” He mewled flaring his nostrils as the coil in his stomach snapped “fuck!” Matthew took the hand that was once behind your head and now pressed it against the arm of the couch to keep himself up.

Your cunt was coated with his release making you smile as he continued to slowly fuck you “gotta make sure it all stays in there baby.” Your husband teased as he pecked your lips.

The moment that was so small was full of so much love between you both that you almost didn’t hear the knock at the door.

Key word, almost.

Brady had been sent up to see where the two of you were “I get you’re a happy couple you two but if we could go downstairs and act like I haven’t just heard that I’d be happy.” His words made your cheeks turn red as you were only met with the sound of Matthews laughter.

Matthew pecked your lips as he smiled “down in a sec!” The panthers player yelled back as he sat up straight hearing the sounds of his brothers footsteps leaving the hallway. His hand reached down to your panties that were on the floor as he smiled “you serious about wanting my babies?” Matthew looked to you for confirmation as you placed your legs in his lap “so serious.” You nodded smiling as he did the same.

The hockey player helped slide your panties over your legs and pressed against your cunt “gotta make sure you don’t lose any of that then.” It made you squirm as you thought about keeping his load of inside of you “now as much as I wanna stay here with you.” Matthew sighed as he brushed your hair out of your face.

You let your lips form a pout already thinking about what he was going to say “we should probably get back before they send him back up here.” There was a hint of amusement in his voice as he pecked your lips “would hate for him to have to hear what you sound like when I have your cock in my mouth.” You smirked seeing Matthew process the image in his mind.

Using the little energy you had you got up and giggled “you’re sending me to an early grave.” Matthew groaned pressing his head into the pillow behind him.

As he watched you place your hands on your hips “that’s why you married me Tkachuk.” You spun around and walked to your dress letting him stare at your ass.

Matthew was living, the life.

#ambers kinkmas 2023 #Matthew tkachuk imagines #Matthew tkachuk smut #nhl smut #hockey smut #nhl imagines #hockey imagines #nhl oneshots #hockey oneshots #imagines #oneshots #amber writes fics

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haddonfieldwhore · 4 months

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nhl (hockey) masterlist

headcanons

nothing yet

oneshots / drabbles

vince dunn - seattle kraken

torn ❕

talk me down ❕☁️

like crazy ☁️

offline ☁️

matthew tkachuk - florida panthers

fragile ❕☁️

i don’t dance ***

hands to myself ❕

right here (hands to myself pt.2)❕

winter things 🎄 (xmas special) ☁️

hurt my feelings ***❕

wildest dreams ❕(IMY,IS preq.)

i miss you, i’m sorry ❕

jealousy, jealousy ***

bad idea ***

guilty conscience *** (bad idea pt.2)

safe and sound ❕☁️

hold it against me ***

will borgen - seattle kraken

sugar ***☁️

clandestine

tequila sunrise ☁️

welcome to the party ☁️

headfirst, fearless ☁️ (wttp part.2)

misc - seattle kraken

tied in knots - brandon tanev ☁️

mine - tye kartye ☁️

game over - tye kartye ☁️

series

sparks fly - will borgen

one ☁️

two ☁️

bonus! (social media posts) ☁️

other

thomas milic playlist

vince dunn playlist

matthew tkachuk playlist

leon draisaitl playlist

trevor zegras playlist

kraken hype playlist

panthers hype playlist

matthew tkachuk (taylor’s version) playlist

matthew tkachuk yeehaw mix (the only man i’ll listen to country music for)

will borgen playlist

jeremy swayman playlist

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bullet-prooflove · 4 months

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Special Delivery: Alexander 'Tig' Trager x Reader

Part of @storiesofsvu Holiday Bingo! The square was Winter Cabin!

Tagging: @crazy4chickennuggets @kmc1989 @withakindheartx @mortal--soul @thatonesexycancerian @chaoticqueenie98 @buddinglinguist @spookyboogyuniverse @thanossexual @anime-weeb-4-life @redpoodlern @nu1freakshow @lexondeck @adaydreamaway08 @goblinenby @fanfic-n-tabulous @just-a-girl-who-wrytes @ankhmutes @keyweegirlie @trublu2u @thebaileybugle @joyfulfxckery @im-just-a-mississippi-girl @multiflixshelves @luvvstvrkeyy @goosterroose @storiesofsvu

Part of the Crazy, Fucked Up Love Arc:

Crazy, Fucked Up Kind of Love - Tig discovers your secret.

Not Leaving: - Tig tells you he's not leaving.

Show You - Tig shows you how beautiful you really are.

Welcome Home (NSFW) - You welcome Tig home in a very special way.

Tig decides he wants his first Christmas with the baby to be special, even if his son still resides inside of you. It’s the reason he plans a babymoon a fortnight before your due date. He has everything planned to perfection. He heads up to the cabin a few days before Christmas Eve with Juice and Kozik, together they set up the tree and decorate the cabin. Jax chops firewood outside, leaving the stack alongside the hearth.

The only problem is Tig can’t cook, he has a couple of recipes under his belt but beyond that he’s out of his depth. He asks Gemma for help and as usual she comes through for him.

“You gonna propose or something?” She asks him as she plans out the shopping list.

“Suzie’s been a trooper while I’ve been running between Stockton and Reno trying to smooth over all this shit with the guns.” He tells Gemma as he sits down at her kitchen table with a cup of coffee. “I haven’t been around as much as I would have liked.”

“You’re trying to make it up to her before the baby comes.” Gemma says knowingly, tapping her pen upon the surface of the notepad.

“I want to remind her how special she is.” Tig explains to Gemma, his thumb tapping against the mug. “How much her and the baby mean to me. It’s not been easy, being apart, especially when she’s so far along.”

“Hence Christmas up in the cabin.” Gemma summarises as she sits back in her chair. “It’s rustic, it’s quiet, the perfect place to have a little mommy and daddy time before baby Matthew arrives. I’ll cook something up for the two of you and get Chibs to bring it up later with the gifts from him and Evelyn.”

“Thank you, you’re a godsend.” Tig says, kissing her on the cheek as he raises to his feet.

When you step into the cabin, he can see how much you love it. You’ve always wanted to have Christmas in a cabin, you remember telling him that on your second date. You’d been talking about favourite holidays; he wasn’t big on them, but you were. You loved everything about the Christmas season, the lights, the magic, even the Santa suit…

Especially the Santa suit as he had learned last year. He’d noticed the way you’d got a little hot and bothered while editing a Santa porno and decided to test his theory. It had been the most debauched night of his life, the things the two of you had gotten up to…

He can’t look at old St Nick without a blush creeping across his cheeks and he certainly could not return that suit.

You spend the evening in front of the fire, resting on Tig’s chest as you doze on the couch. You listen to the sound of his heart beating in his chest, your fingers playing over the fine chest hair. You’re half asleep when Chibs lets himself in. Tig tilts his head towards the other man who holds up a gift bag of presents in one hand and bag of carefully prepared food in the other.

“Just dropping off.” He says softly, a smile tugging at his features.

You struggle into a sitting position on the couch, your palm smoothing over the roundness of your belly before you say.

“Actually Chibs, I think my water just broke.”

It moves quickly from there.

There’s been a crash on the country road leading up to the cabin, there’s no way an ambulance can get through until the cars have been cleared from the road. It’s a fast labour, before you know it Chibs is between your legs telling you to push. Tig sits behind you, your back pressing against his chest as he murmurs soothing words into your ear.

The language that comes out of your mouth...

A sailor would be proud.

Chibs delivers the baby on the rug in front of the fire.

“Welcome to the world bonnie wee lad.” Chibs grins as he holds up the baby. He has a flock of Tig’s dark hair and the most beautiful blue eyes you’ve ever seen. Chibs wraps the infant up in a fleece blanket from the back of the couch before handing him over to you.

Tig’s cheek comes to rest against yours as you cradle your son close to your chest, his lips ghosting across your skin.

“You did good Suzie Q.” Tig whispers as he looks down at Matthew Filip Trager. “You did so good.”

Love Tig? Don’t miss any of his stories by joining the taglist here.

Can’t get enough of Tig? Check out his Masterlist here!

Interested in supporting me? Join my Patreon for Bonus Content!

Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

#alexander trager #alexander tig trager #tig trager #alexander trager x reader #alexander trager x you #tig trager x you #tig trager x reader #storiesofsvuholidaybingo2023

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asgoodeasgold · 7 months

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Hackett A/W 23 with Matthew Goode - Part 3 gifs

One of my favourite moments in the new Hackett ad is this beautiful goode smile in-between the broody falconry and tyre changing. So gorgeous and heart-warming.

I also love the poker playing in a field, with sheep, as one does.

Here is the portrait I posted a couple of weeks ago for completeness. 😍💗

📷 My edits from Hackett Autumn/Winter 2023 ad campaign on YouTube (link below). First pic is by Charlie Gray.

See Hackett Part 2 GIFs

See Hackett Part 1 GIFs

YouTube video

youtube

#matthew goode #matthewgoode #matthew goode advert #hackett #hackett london #Youtube

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lilpunkrock · 1 year

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where you go (i will go) — part xi

Summary: Your resting hours take an unexpected turn. Empathy presents a defining moment. When Matthew gives you an idea, you decide to venture where you have never gone before.

Pairing: Dream of the Endless x Fem!Reader

Words: 5.3k+

AN: Things are ramping up. Enjoy the chapter, my friends!

. . .

“Burning cities and napalm skies;

Fifteen flares inside those ocean eyes…

I’m scared, I’ve never fallen from quite this high;

Falling into your ocean eyes.”

ocean eyes, Billie Eilish

. . .

part xi

The prickle in your nostrils that coaxes you into alertness is beloved, familiar. The gentle sting of saltwater. Other senses spring to life after the first–the bright melody of seabirds singing above you, a plush warmth beneath the palms of your hands. Sand. When your eyelids flutter open, a robin’s egg sky greets you.

Slowly, you rise to your feet, patting remnants of sand off your clothing. Now, this is new, you think as you spin in a circle, drinking in your surroundings. The white gold sun above and green foliage of the mountains to your right tell you that you must be in your unconscious. After all, you know it’s winter in the Waking World.

As your gaze sweeps over the honey-gold beach stretching endlessly before and behind you, it occurs to you that there’s something familiar about this place. When your eyes turn to the Tiffany blue tide of the ocean to your left, it finally hits you—this place looks exactly like Dream Country’s shore. If Dream Country’s shore was crafted by a middle-aged mother in desperate need of a tropical vacation rather than a tall and broody Endless, that is.

It’s on pure instinct that you turn to face the opposite side of the beach. Where empty sand stood moments ago, there now stands a dark, slim figure with a shock of charcoal hair. There’s only one person you know who would wear leather lace-up boots to the beach. “Dream?” you call incredulously, squinting at his familiar figure through the brilliant sunlight.

The Dream Lord approaches you slowly, hands tucked into the pockets of his coat, seemingly impervious to the warm sun beaming down on the two of you. A fresh breeze swoops over the sea, ruffling his hair like raven’s feathers. Your eyes follow the movement carefully, observing the shuffle of the sand as his boots glide over it, the way the sunlight imbues his pointed nose and high cheekbones with the slightest hint of pink. As he comes to a stop before you, your eyebrows furrow in confusion. “Am I dreaming?”

Dream’s dark brows curve upwards, partially disappearing under his wild hairline. “Was it not you who once told me that deities do not dream?” he responds.

Your lips fall into a hard line. “Touché. But this isn’t a memory, either…so, what is this?” Your gaze flickers from his face, to the sand at your feet, and back again. Tentatively, you kick up a spray of sand with the tip of your shoe. It peppers the pant leg of his black jeans ungracefully, but it does make contact. Curious now, you reach out to poke him once in the center of his chest. His sinewy form is surprisingly sturdy under your prod. “Are you even real?”

A lick of amusement flickers through his ocean blue eyes, as fleeting as a flame. “Was it not you who once said that, since you do not dream, I cannot intervene?”

His words give you pause. Because he’s right–that was what you’d told him the night you sat together on the beach, your soul battered and broken by the weight of your memories. The sentiment still made sense to you now. The level of unconsciousness that deities retreated into when in need of a recharge bore no dreams, no nightmares. It was a place between wakefulness and sleep. As the King of Dreams and Nightmares, he should have no dominion over this space.

“You do a lot of quoting me to be the real Dream. He prefers to kind of tell things like they are,” you comment, peering up at Fake Dream’s features curiously. For being a figment of your unconscious, he looked so real. Down to the dipped Cupid’s bow above his rosebud lips, the dimple at the tip of his nose, the capricious flare of his perpetual bedhead.

Your heart flutters at the perfection of these details, then clenches with the realization that it was you who must have soaked those details in, locking them up in some corner of your mind to be used here. Because, at the end of the day, this wasn’t a memory. You had never stood on a honey-gold beach with the Dream Lord by a Tiffany blue ocean.

After eons stuck reliving the last moments of your mortal life, why were your resting hours suddenly changing? First the shadow that had overtaken your memories, and now this. Did it have something to do with the shift that the Fates had described? The formation of the attachments between you and Dream? Your mind reels with possibilities. You shift your feet deeper in the sand in response, seeking to ground yourself. You could ponder the ‘how’ and the ‘why’ later. Right now, slipping into an unconscious free of memories felt like much more of a blessing than a problem.

“So, this is my unconscious playground, then. What are you doing here?”

Fake Dream’s brows rise higher at your question. “We are in your mind. Why do you have me here?”

His question sends a rush of blood flooding your cheeks. You suspect you know exactly why your imagination would have brought him here. A jolt of paranoia crackles through you as you wonder whether thoughts and feelings play aloud in an unconscious mind. Your eyes flicker through the air around the two of you, as if looking for thought bubbles. Fake Dream or not, you’d still rather him not know the truth. “Not important,” you say hastily, waving him off. “I’ve never had a choice like this before. It’s always been reliving memories or staying awake…so, what do we do?”

Fake Dream watches you thoughtfully. After a long pause, he dips his chin, saying, “You say you have never been given a choice. What would you like to do?”

Under the robin’s egg sky, you respond with a smile.

. . .

“And then they said a ‘darkness’ was coming, and that I needed to be very careful with my abilities and decisions. Said I needed to ‘choose wisely.’”

“Well, that’s some cryptic bullshit.”

Laughter rings through the open air of the grove as Matthew ruffles his feathers proudly from his perch on your knee. You beam up at him from where you lie in the grass, crossing your arms behind your head to make better eye contact with him. “Tell me about it. Cryptic bullshit is kind of what they’re known for, though.”

The lush flora and fauna of Fiddler’s Green paints a flawless masterpiece behind Matthew’s feathered form, his dark body standing in stark contrast to the scarlet phlox, baby pink Russell lupine, and pale baby’s breath flourishing around you. A fluttering monarch lands on a Black Eyed Susan mere feet away from your face, dipping its feet into the flower’s golden pollen. You smile at the sight.

“You have any idea what they might’ve been talking about?” Matthew asks, drawing your attention back to him. His eyes gleam like black marbles in the sunlight as he peers down at you curiously.

Did you have any idea what they were talking about? There were certainly possibilities that you’d pondered since the Fates had come to visit you a couple of days ago. Admittedly, it had been a welcome distraction from your thoughts of Dream and the bizarre turn your resting hours had taken. Contemplating the Fates’ warning didn’t totally rid your mind and heart of their anxious buzzing about the Dream Lord, but it did help.

“There are some possibilities. I mean, they could have been referring to my work crafting with Dream. Maybe something about the words and images I’m placing into the minds of dreamers? Or maybe it’s something to do with my abilities, my function…maybe I’m supposed to do something new with it?”

“Something new, huh?” Matthew cranes his beak toward the sky, contemplating. When he looks back down at you, his talons grip your knee a little tighter. “What about Desire’s bonds? Maybe you can do something to them. I don’t know…maybe you can break one?”

You give him a small, wistful smile. Blades of grass tickle your cheeks as you shake your head. “No, no, my friend. I don’t think it’s that. I’ve only ever touched one once. Hurt like Morningstar’s Hell. After that experience…well, I honestly don’t know if I could break one. At the end of the day, the Endless are more powerful than deities like me…I’m not sure it’s even possible.”

Matthew ruffles his feathers lightly, repositioning his talons on your knee. “Well, regardless, they said your scales are staying balanced, right? Seems like Desire’s not good enough to keep that from you anymore.” He cocks his head at you, suddenly quiet. You can practically hear the gears churning in his head as he contemplates his next words. “What would happen if your scales stayed unbalanced, anyway?” he finally asks, curious eyes blinking owlishly at you.

Your lips part at his question, surprised. Surprised that he finally asked, surprised that he didn’t ask sooner, really. In the months that you’d known each other, you’d never brought the subject up. After all, it wasn’t exactly something you enjoyed pondering.

“Well, it’s normal for the scales to be thrown off balance sometimes. But if I failed to re-balance them for too long, if they became too askew to fix?” You pause, licking your lips nervously. Matthew watches you carefully, expectant. With a deep breath, you tell him the truth, “I would be unmade, my friend. Like our Dream Lord unmakes a dream.” Your fingers twist through the blades of grass beneath you, a small outlet for the turbulence churning in your chest. “The only difference is, there’s no replacement for me. Think about it–why do you think the world devolves further into chaos as gods and goddesses fade to nothing? There’s no one left to preside over their functions and ensure order after they go. When it comes to deities…you only get one shot.”

“You spoke of me.”

You sit up with a start. The rumble of that familiar baritone pulls your eyes forward, past Matthew, to Fiddler’s Green’s newest visitor. Dream of the Endless approaches the two of you from the opposite side of the grove, his dark cloak rippling behind him in the sweet, floral-scented breeze.

As Matthew hops from your knee to your arm, allowing you to stand, your eyes can’t help but drink in the faint shadow along Dream’s jaw, his proud nose, the way his ears barely peek out from within that wild hair of his. Fates, he really did look like Fake Dream. Or, rather, Fake Dream looked just like him. Your unconscious had outdone itself. You weren’t sure whether to be pleased or begrudged about that.

“Oh, hey, boss!” Matthew crows, snapping you out of your reverie. He flaps his wings and takes flight, soaring to perch on the Dream Lord’s shoulder, instead.

Dream inclines his head to peer at Matthew with a shadow of amusement. Still, his feet draw him closer to you. The lush grass and clusters of flowers seem to part around him instinctively, making way for their creator. “What might you two be up to?” he inquires, dark brows arched with intrigue.

Matthew ruffles his feathers, sticking out his chest proudly. “Oh, you know, pondering, theorizing, plotting. Big brain shit.”

Your fingers twitch anxiously at Matthew’s words. You hadn’t yet decided whether you were going to say anything to Dream about the Fates’ visit. While you valued his wisdom and wanted his insight, you worried that the conversation might shift to Desire, which could snowball into you revealing far more than you intended to. You still hoped to resolve things without having to muddy the waters of Dream’s relationship with his sibling further.

“That sounds like dangerous work,” Dream responds. His pale gaze drifts from Matthew to you, eyes settling on your faintly pinched brow, the slight tension in your jaw. Fates, he can read you like a book. With a quirk of his brow, he continues, “Is it something I can help you with?”

You nibble at the inside of your cheek nervously. Your heart wants to scream ‘yes.’ And yet, your mind roars ‘no.’ You settle for something in between. “Maybe. But we can save that for another time. We have work to do, yes?”

His attentive gaze studies you several moments longer. You force yourself to hold eye contact, his eyes burning into yours like sapphires. You wonder if he can tell you’re hiding something. Multiple somethings. The thought of it unsettles you, makes your stomach turn curdled and sour. You don’t like keeping things from him. You don’t want to. You’ve shared more with him in the past few months than you have with anyone in your entire divine existence. To keep something from him feels wrong.

The past few months have shown you just how fervently curiosity drives Dream’s decisions and actions. That’s why you’re all the more surprised when he inclines his chin slightly, his expression relaxing. “Indeed. Another time, then. Let’s go.”

. . .

When you gaze into the waters of the Dreaming hours later, you find your reflection looking the most peaceful it’s been since you first read Dream’s book. Peace seems to be a consistent side effect of your time spent in the Dream Lord’s presence, of time spent watching him craft dreams and nightmares, of hours spent working together to weave first meetings and first words. The Dream Lord’s own countenance is reflected in the waters mere feet away. Though he does not sit on the dock beside you, he does crouch, his pale gaze trained on the swirls of teal and lavender stardust above you.

When your reflection smiles back at you, the expression is genuine, unforced. Slowly, you dip one bare foot toward the water, tracing the paths of constellations reflected in the dark waves. Where these waters once frightened you, you now feel comfort in their presence. Your hands have touched many of the minds hidden within them, threads of connection that you feel thrumming in your body even now. Besides, with Dream near, you suspect you don’t have much to worry about in the way of rogue dreams and nightmares.

A quiet sigh escapes Dream as his eyes shift to follow the patterns you draw in the waves. You could almost swear that new ripples break the surface when he speaks. “There is something I have wanted to ask you for quite some time.”

You cease your doodling, pulling the tip of your toe from the water and drawing your knees to your chest. You turn your head to face him slowly. There are many possibilities for what his question could be, a handful of which send your heartbeat stuttering in your chest. Praying that he can’t hear it, you nod gently. “Of course. Go ahead.”

Dream’s eyes fall away from yours then, something that surprises you. As he stares at his reflection in the waters of the Dreaming, his Adam’s apple bobs, his jaw winding itself tightly. You suspect he’s weighing whether or not he truly wants to say what is on his mind. You grant him space in silence, studying his expression as it shifts from contemplation to resolve. “I suspect I have had many attachments of my own over the eons. I have had partners. A son, even.” He swallows thickly, his jugular taught as rope. His voice is raspy, forced, as he asks, “Have you…?”

Your lips part in surprise at his words. Granted, you hadn’t just seen your name in the Dream Lord’s book that night. There had been other names from millenia gone by colored in red and purple, even two attachments that had shone a brilliant shade of green. Not to mention the rumors you’d heard of Dream’s failed relationships from throughout the eons. You had been so preoccupied with stressing over the attachments between the two of you that, admittedly, you hadn’t given the other names in his book much thought.

Your eyes drink in the sight of him–his slightly furrowed brows, his tightly clasped hands, his eyes staunchly affixed on his reflection. It’s evident that this question carries weight, that it’s something he has been pondering for a very long time. A dull ache permeates your chest at the thought. You wish he would have asked you sooner. Eager to smooth the discomfort from his features, you shake your head firmly. “No. While your relationships technically fall within my domain, I don’t intervene with attachments of the Endless. Nor any other lower gods and goddesses, for that matter. I’ve always considered that to be potentially… problematic, to put it lightly.”

The crinkle between Dream’s eyebrows smooths. Though he gives no response, his jawline does loosen, his Adam’s apple falling back into place with a thick swallow. The ache in your chest softens as you watch him thoughtfully.

When your thoughts return to the list of names in his book, a question of your own comes to mind. Warmth tinges your cheeks as you contemplate it, weighing whether or not you should ask.

“Have you had many lovers?” you finally say, mind lingering on the attachments you saw in his book. Killala. Nada. Calliope. You already know he’s had partners throughout the eons. And yet, some morbid sense of curiosity within you wants to hear the words from his own mouth. Though their names lacked the white philia attachment that you shared with Dream, the eros and philautia attachments you’d seen between them left a sharp pang in your heart. An emotion you knew well, yet hesitated to identify. Jealousy.

Much to your astonishment and quiet pleasure, your question actually seems to surprise Dream. His face goes hilariously blank at your words, his eyes turned pointedly from you. You almost feel a little proud at being able to pull such a reaction from him. You watch as his small, full lips work slowly, contemplating. After a long pause, he purses them, murmuring, “...one might say I’ve had a few.”

A heavy swallow works down your throat as your heart flutters like butterfly wings in your chest. What was this bizarre mix of emotion that held your throat in such a vice? Nervousness, embarrassment, envy? You lean forward slightly, seeking to catch his eye. “What happened?” you ask quietly. Perhaps his answer would give you a reason not to look further into the philia attachment between the two of you, a reason to finally lay your worries to rest. Or perhaps it would do exactly the opposite. Regardless of the outcome, you wanted to know.

Dream’s eyes remain fixed on the waves for a long time. So long that, taken off-guard as he was, you wonder if he didn’t hear you. When he does finally turn in your direction, there is a shift in his gaze that steals the breath from your lungs. A hesitancy, a wariness. The first sign of uncertainty you may have ever seen from him. For so long, you’d sought openness from him, a crack in the armor. Now that you’re faced with it, the intensity is almost too much to bear.

“I am not entirely sure.” The Dream Lord’s voice is soft. Almost sad. “Perhaps that is why the process continues to repeat itself.”

You study him in silence, pondering the rumors you’ve heard about him over the eons. Rumors you’d purposely sought out over the past few months since you’d met. You’d thought that the tales might help you understand him better, that they might help you solve the enigma that was the Dream Lord. You’d heard tales of a Dream King who banished his lover to Hell when he felt she had rejected him. Whispers of a Dream King who refused to help his son out of devotion to the natural way of the world, a decision which cost him his wife and child. Rumors of a Dream King who was different, happier, before Desire sowed romantic interest for a sun in his lover’s heart. Of all of the rumors you’ve heard, it’s the last that hurts the most, pressing upon your heart like a bruise.

He was proud. He was stubborn. He placed his value in his function and prioritized it above all, at times to a fault. Others deemed him unfeeling, bound to his rules too tightly, steeped in hubris.

But as you hold the Dream Lord’s starlit gaze, you feel yourself flip the page, seeking the other half of the story. He was prideful and confident because he suspected the only being in this world he could truly rely on was himself. He was bound to his rules and function because in a world that was perpetually changing, they alone remained constant. It was easier to be set in your ways than it was to bend for another, only to end up rebuffed or abandoned. It was easier to wall off your heart than it was to place it in another’s hands, cautiously hopeful that they’d care for it kindly.

A bittersweet ache throbs in your chest, heavy and sorrowful. You blink away the prickling that begins to surface at the back of your eyes. Your fingers itch to reach over and touch his arm, his hand, something. Instead, you swallow thickly, flattening your fingers against the wood of the dock. “Love is as much about sacrifice as it is about reward,” you say softly, voice barely audible over the whisper of the waves beneath you. “Love is…difficult.”

Dream’s lips part slightly at your words, his cool gaze regarding you thoughtfully. For a moment, he sits still as a stone, perhaps allowing your statement to sink in. When he finally shifts, lifting his chin at you ever so slightly, a twinkle has surfaced in his eyes, outshining the wariness. “Interesting words coming from the Deity of Love,” he murmurs, the ghost of a smile in his voice.

You smile at him slowly, unable to ignore how the weight in your chest eases with the lifting of his demeanor. “To say that my work is complicated would be a grave understatement.”

Stardust dances in the Dream Lord’s eyes at your words. A crinkle surfaces between his dark brows as he gazes at you in earnest. The urge to swipe your thumb across his forehead, to smooth any worry from his skin, is sudden and jarring. “How do you do it? Giving love so freely, expecting nothing in return?”

His question gives you pause. It’s your turn to furrow your brow as you nibble at the inside of your cheek, searching for the right words. “Hope and expectation are two different things, Dream. I think we always hope to receive love in return. I mean, how could we not? But expectations are different. Expectations imply that love is selfish and self-serving, when the exact opposite is true. It’s not about you. It’s about them.”

Your eyes pull from his, turning to the dark waters of the Dreaming. Faint shapes and flashes of color flicker from within the ocean’s depths as billions upon billions of minds fulfill fantasies and face fears tonight. As they find loved ones and soulmates, hearing those beloved first words for the very first time. You smile. “I give them love without expecting reciprocation because they deserve it. Everyone deserves love. And, well, it makes me happy.”

As you dip a toe back into the waves, you call out to the dreamers within. The response is immediate, a pouring of molten warmth into your soul that fills you up, up, up, until you’re sure you must glow with light. You wonder if he can see it, if he can feel the way your soul sings as it calls out to them. “When it feels this good to give, why would you not?”

. . .

“Hey, look at this one!”

The Triton’s trumpet you lift from the sea is as big as your hand, a magnificent twist of cream, gold, beige, and umber. Tiffany blue waves splash at your rolled-up pant legs as you slosh back toward the shore. When you toss the shell at him, Fake Dream catches it with nimble hands.

“This is really what you wish to spend your resting hours doing?” he says, his deep voice echoing over the tide. Slowly, he bends to place the Triton’s trumpet alongside the pile of empty conches, murexes, and whelks at his side.

You run a hand through your hair, hastily gathering the wind-swept strands away from your face. You back-track into the waves slowly, toes digging into the sand to keep your balance. “What else would I want to do?” you call to him. “I spend my waking hours forming love attachments between mortals, talking to an ex-human bird, and watching the King of Dreams and Nightmares craft fantastical, mind-bending creations. Why wouldn’t I want to spend a little time doing something normal?”

“Normal is relative. Governing dreams and nightmares is normal for me. Crafting attachments is normal for you.”

A dry laugh escapes you as you gaze at him incredulously, an amused smile on your lips. You plant your feet firmly in the sand, placing your hand on your hips. “Okay, smartass. You know what I mean. Doing something human.” Something with a rough, spiked surface pokes the underside of your toe, and you dip down quickly, plunging an eager hand into the water. Your fingers procure a white Jewel Box from the sand. When you spot the tiny sea creature still living within it, you return it to the ocean with a smile. “Life is about more than functions and the big, sweeping grand scheme of things. It’s about the little things, too. Life’s simple pleasures. Why do you think I get coffee every morning?”

You spend a few quiet moments sifting your feet through the sand, looking for more shells under the clear blue water. A dip of your hand into the sand rewards you with half a sand dollar. Its ivory surface is smooth as stone beneath your fingertips. When you raise your head, showing it to Fake Dream with pride, you find him watching you thoughtfully. With his hands stuffed in the pockets of his coat, a black-clad, pale-skinned man standing on a sunny beach in boots, he looks like someone who’s never had a lick of fun in his life.

As your eyes drink in his tall, dark, and broodiness, a thought occurs to you. When you wade through the water toward the shore, it’s with purpose. Stopping a mere foot away, you look into his ocean-blue eyes with earnesty. If your cheeks warm as his gaze holds yours–well, the sunlight is brilliant today, isn’t it? “If you were to do something just for yourself, just for your own enjoyment…what would it be?”

. . .

The smell of the saltwater is sweet and familiar in your nose as you weave through the diner by the sea. You turn and twist and side-step quickly, dodging patrons and servers in spite of the fact that you could pass right through them. It’s about the little things. Life’s simple pleasures. The words you’d spoken to Fake Dream last night in your unconscious echo in your mind, bringing a smile to your lips. When you look out the wall of windows on your right, a panoramic view of an ivory beach and dark blue waves greets you. Early winter has turned South Carolina blue-toned and chilly. It’s not the honey-gold beach and rolling green mountains of your dreams, but it’s beautiful, nonetheless.

You turn your gaze forward, approaching a young man and woman sitting in a corner booth of the diner. The list of assignments in your pocket had linked their names with a purple philautia attachment. Their first date at this restaurant was one of your last assignments of the morning. A steaming cup of Cliff’s coffee was narrowly within your reach.

But as the crowd of patrons thins, clearing your way to the table, all thoughts of caffeine leave your mind. Because the pale purple philautia attachment isn’t the only thread present at the table. A black thread, thick and pulsing, snakes from the young man’s chest, slithering across the floor and out the restaurant’s door, linking him to someone beyond this place.

Your eyes settle on the freckled face of the red-haired woman at the table. Her emerald eyes and smiling, lightly-glossed lips reveal a mix of eagerness and nerves. The dark-haired man across from her leans forward, his body language engaged, listening intently as she talks. It appears that their date is going well. And yet, you know that the presence of the black thread means that somewhere out there, there’s another mortal who has caught this man’s attention.

Was he secretly thinking about them, even now? What if he contacted them after this date instead of the girl sitting across from him? Today, it was only a philautia attachment between them. But tomorrow, it could be an eros, a philia. How long before he abandoned the potential relationship between them for something that Desire had sowed, instead?

You brace yourself for the panic that typically sets in upon spotting Desire’s handiwork. The thoughts that frantically race through your mind as you brainstorm solutions, ways to fulfill their attachment that will strengthen it enough to keep Desire at bay for a while longer. But the panic never comes. As your jaw clenches tightly, it’s anger, hot and molten, that surfaces in your chest instead. The emotion quickly boils over, spilling into your stiffening shoulders, your shallow breathing, the digging of your fingernails into your palms.

You are sick of this. Sick of Desire’s attempts to destroy you over a fate you never asked for. More than that, you’re tired of watching Desire ruin mortals’ chances at love, at happiness. You’re tired of watching mortals walk into the same trap that you had once walked into yourself. Tired of knowing that there would be others like you out there if you didn’t put an end to this.

The memory of Matthew’s words crashes over you in a wave. I don’t know. Maybe you can break one.

When your hand lifts, reaching for the black thread slowly, it’s of its own accord. Your palm tingles with the memory of your last attempt to touch one of Desire’s bonds. But the humming of your own power under your skin is overpowering, insistent, urging you to try.

Try.

When your hand closes around Desire’s thread, it’s as if a blade has been driven clean through your palm, muscle and all. You cry out, releasing it on instinct. Just as quickly as the pain had come, however, rage follows. Rage at Desire’s meddling, at all the hurt and misery they’ve caused you. Rage at the fact that touching the thread hurt. Rage at yourself for letting go.

With a snarl, you close your fingers around the dark bond again, gripping tighter. Pain ignites across your skin, branding you. But this time, you don’t let go. The humming under your skin gets stronger the longer you hold it, growing and growing. As agony roars through your arm, your power rages alongside it, escalating from a hum, to a vibration, to convulsing. The quake within you is jarring, seismic. Something greater than you, something out of your control. Your mind struggles to wrangle it, to channel it toward the bond in your hand.

Bend. Bend to me.

The seconds stretch on like millenia. And still, despite your determination, the agony becomes too great. You release the thread with a hiss, cradling your throbbing palm to your chest. When you lower your gaze to peer at your skin hesitantly, you find no physical affliction. But the brand upon your spirit is grizzly and red.

In that moment, standing in the center of the diner, seeing all and being seen by none, something clicks in you.

You reach out with your burning hand, fingers plucking at the philautia attachment between the couple with purpose. Its pale lavender darkens to a radiant purple, pulsing like a heartbeat. Thank you, it calls out to you.

“You’re welcome,” you whisper in return. Your feet move beneath you, carrying your plotting mind away from your attachment, away from the young couple, away from Desire’s thread.

For now.

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hetaphilia · 1 year

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England & Canada Fic Recs

my fellow royal red bros fans I am here hot and fresh with some fics about the two or majorly involving their dynamic that I enjoy, mostly from ff.net and ao3 (some are probably crossposted)

Golden Child - drunk England going on about how great little America was to Canada’s silent hurt... except maybe he’s not talking about America at all. Oneshot, ending gives me a nice warm feeling.

Industry and Grandeur - 1800s, France invites England and a colonial Canada to his country for an exposition, lots of lovely interactions between the duo. Just wonderfully written, some great historical Hetalia.

Gift of God - England and Canada head to a restaurant after a meeting to chat when they overhear the plight of a human couple tables away. Canada makes a selfless choice. Very sweet, really like how the author writes them.

The Cold We Hate - ACE family overall, but royal red bros too for sure. Details the North American ice storm of 1998 and how the weather affects America and Canada, staying over at England’s house so he can take care of them.

Teatime questioning - little Matthew asks England how to get a girl to like him, except it might not actually be about liking him, nor how to get a girl to in the first place. Toothrottingly cute, love to think this is how Canada gets into tea.

On Love and Loyalty - a look at Canada’s and England’s relationship throughout Canadian history. Just good sold stuff with a sweet ending.

The Frozen Friend - winter in Canada in the early days after England’s acquired him as a colony. Canada apparently has a strange man as an old friend, but England feels wary for some reason. Then he learns who he really is and oh shit. Slightly spooky and has protective Kumajiro, one of my faves lore wise.

Haunting Echoes - snippet of WW1 with kinda snapped Canada and worried England. Short but dark. Poor Canada.

Feverish - might be if not my fave Het fic, then among my top. FACE family centric, but lots of royal red bros throughout. Canada falls ill, tries to persevere through a world meeting, and things snowball from there as America, England, and France are pulled in to care for their brother that seems to keep getting worse after brief bouts of recovery. And Russia’s there too...? Canada’s failing health may be linked to something more subtle but nefarious than any of them initially thought. Great pacing, characterization, lots of character dynamics, knows when to amp up the tension and when to give it a break. Sadly, this fic remains unfinished and is unlikely to ever be completed, but the 20 chapters we do get are wonderful. I recommend it even if just to enjoy the ride.

#hetalia #hws #hws canada #hws england #royal red bros #fic rec #might make another list in the future when I cobble together more

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enchanted-keys · 2 months

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You've probably answered this lots before, but: do you have a fairly clear hierarchy of favourites among the Royal Ballet principals? And your favourite role or two for each? :-) Also: of the recent retirees, who would you most like to see guesting?

Also a) thank you so much for obtaining the info that it'll be Nela and Ball for that "Winter's Tale" stream! Partner and I have got our tickets booked to see it at the Cineworld in Aberdeen. <3 It's the ballet that got me properly back into ballet, when I watched it during lockdown, and just: yay. :-)

And b) your blog has just been so lovely and helpful in growing my ballet knowledge! And your gifs are superb, and your Matthew Ball love is validating. :D

Also also: do you have any favourites among the Scottish Ballet dancers? I was lucky enough to see "Cinders" on tour, and I was so impressed with both Bruno Micchiardi (as Cinders) and Jessica Fyfe (as Princess Louise), but I am no expert.

I think someone asked me for a ranking of all the principals some time ago, but I can't even find the post anymore; I don't mind one bit answering this again! <3

If I have to talk strictly about my faves, it goes like this:

Nunez (eheh!): if have to narrow down her most iconic roles I have to give you at least three (please bear with me, I'm doing my best), which are O/O, Kitri and Aurora.

Takada: Titania and O/O. I'm just so very sorry that she's been more injured than not lately. I miss her.

Hayward: Juliet and any Ashton role I can think of (rhapsody, enigma variations, those bits of Titania we got, etc.). I also think she makes one of the best Claras out there.

Kaneko: O/O (saw her live in the BS pdd and the White Adagio with Vadim and it was life changing, bye). Also her Gypsy girl in the two pigeons is iconic. Special mention for her Aurora.

Lamb: Manon. Signature role. Was born to play it. I also really love her Mary Vetsera and her Aurora.

I'm a bit uncertain if I should include Anna Rose or not...sometimes I really love her, but overall I'd like her to be more consistent. But I'll say she was born to play Juliet.

Muntagirov: he's more versatile than people give him credit for, and really has the whole package, but I'd say his best roles are Siegfried and De Grieux.

Ball: he's such an outstanding actor that it's hard to choose, but I'm going with Romeo and Albrecht.

Bracewell: another wonderful Romeo right here, and I was blown away by his Hamlet in the Ashton insights.

Mcrae: Oberon and Rudolph for sure.

Sambè: sorry to repeat myself but we have another great Romeo right here. From what I've seen he makes also a great Colas.

As for retirees, the one that I really wish was still performing is Roberta Marquez, though maybe she isn't exactly a recent one. Out of the most recent ones I only miss Federico Bonelli because he always brought something special to his performances, although I have to say that the struggles and limitations that come with age were very visible in the last couple of years (his Siegfried variation in the SL cinema relay with Takada comes to mind).

As for the winter's tale I'm really happy to see someone who appreciates it as much as I do! I think it's a truly lovely ballet, one of the few modern classics that really stuck with me. You're very welcome for the info and I hope you'll have a great time at the theatre...unfortunately I found out that it won't be streamed in my country, so I'm going to miss out on it 😤

Thanks for all your lovely compliments they're more appreciated than I can say! 😭🩵🙏

Scottish Ballet is one of those companies that I wish had more footage available, because bits I do get to see are really impressive. I'm kind of familiar with Constance Devernay, Bethany kingsley-garner and Andrew Peasgood because I've seen them in the recordings of The Fairy's Kiss and The Snow Queen, and I seriously enjoyed those performances!

I wish there was a full recording of Cinders because both the trailer and the rehearsal look amazing! Jessica Fyfe is a really delicate and expressive dancer from the clips I've seen of her, and both her and Micchiardi impressed me in the rehearsal poste on YT, cause the intentions and mannerisms in their dancing were so clear: I immediately caught up on the reversal of Cinders gender and that she was the princess even though I hadn't read about the novelty introduced by this production beforehand, but everything was immediately clear thanks to their attention to detail.

The little I've seen from this company makes me wish for more!

#asks #ballet

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hetalia-angel · 5 months

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Okay but, being 1p Canada’s neighbor in an apartment building. It’s always on my mind for an au, but do you maybe have any headcanons for a neighbors-> friends -> lovers kind of arc?

Canada’s Neighbor

Moving is always a difficult thing. It doesn’t matter if it’s a few houses down the street or a country. Everyone around you changes from being friends and family to complete strangers. How does one know who to trust and what someone’s hiding? Even the most virtuous have something to hide.

The months drifted in winter. Condensation gathering along windows, pink stained noses, and the warm fog of breath breaking into the harsh air all around. The plastic of the grocery bag stretched thin under the weight of the milk carton. Y/N’s arms sore and tired as she carried the bags up the flight of stairs and up to her apartment.

A soft thud as the milk hit the ground tearing a hole in the bottom of the bag. —“Need help..?” The soft voice calls out oit helpfully.

Y/N turns around to be met with sinister violet eyes shielded by black framed glasses. Y/N nodded without uttering a word. A subtle recognition came into her kind as they shoved the key into the latch of her apartment door. The man was her neighbor, she’d seen him a few times before. The lanky man seemed quiet and friendly. That’s the same way the unibomber was described by his neighbors. Y/N had the feeling of suspicion arise to her neighbor in question, but it was her nature to be mistrusting. After all if you don’t keep your eye on the cup you’ll lose track of the ball.

“Is here fine?” The blonde asked quietly as he set the bags down on the counter.

“Uh sure,” Y/N replied snapping out of her inner monologue. She looked over at him brushing off her previous thoughts, “May I ask for your name?”

“Matthew… Williams, I live in the apartment across the hallway,” he responded composed. Y/N met his eyes, “I’ll see you around.”

Over the next few weeks Matthew will be over to do small favors and helpful tasks for Y/N. Her original skepticism of him will go unnoticed as these meetings go on. Until they’re more friends than strangers.

Matthew will make the first move and ask her to come over to his apartment for a movie night. His apartment is cozy but oddly clean, almost like a set for a show. The night ends with Y/N curled in his arms on the couch.

This new romantic relationship will progress faster than ever. Until Y/N and Matthew are practically roommates constantly roaming back and forth between the apartments.

It’s nice to be able to trust someone. It’s easier for his façade to slowly disappear too.

#aph canada #hws canada #1p headcanons #hetalia #hetalia au

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historia-vitae-magistras · 2 months

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25 but specifically for Matthew and Arthur?

25) What other people wish they could change about them

Oh, this one's got some kick. Matt just... God, he wishes Arthur had been just a tiny bit less severe about sucking it up. When Matthew was procured with the rest of the unholy money sink of Canada, Arthur was quite cold. He wasn't cruel but Matt isn't it his. He treats him with the same regard as any random child. He generally likes children but he has one of his own and this little shit is pure 100% distilled François by his measure. He doesn't expect to keep him, much less raise him. The reality that he would end up with him but not Alfred under his roof was unfathomable until the ink was dry on the 1783 Treaty of Paris.

François succeeded with "a son for a son" and Arthur ends up with the one neither of them prefer. So many of the reasons he loses Alfred trace back to Matt. And ignoring him was the best thing he could do. He's not treated particularly bleakly by the standards of the day. He was fed, clothed, and Arthur even acknowledged his existence once in a while but oof, Matt was practically stoned on joy when someone even so much as said his name. He would try silly little things like making conversation or tagging along or just trying to be in the same room. He'd fall asleep in random places and occasionally Arthur would wake him and send him to bed and Matt would sleepily try to snuggle against him and be gently shaken off and told to go find his bed. It annoyed Arthur to high heaven. Combine the influx of loyalists with that breaking him down so much in this period, really grinding him down to little more importance than dirt for the orchids in the green house, Arthur kind of creates the ideal conditions to reprogram Matt. He builds practically the perfect imperial lackey from the ground up. If there was much left of François in his personality, it was largely gone by the time Jack came along. Matt's an anxiety disorder with a nice swirl of people pleasing for flavour more than he is a person.

He's the "easy" child. He never has wants or needs. He goes outside to cry, he curls up and minds his own damn business when he's unwell. He takes his semi-annual pat on the head and makes it last. His own personality and wants only spurt up with his temper flares. He explodes and is more than willing to inflict violence wherever he sees it as his duty to do so. He grows up with his individuality in some negligible margin of his own personality. He becomes a force within the British empire in his own right. He does, eventually, develope a personality that's more somewhere in between who he is and who he needs to be. But he's everything Arthur could ever want in a son. He's still not Alfred, but he's everything anyone could ask him to be. He's easy. He's never a burden, he never complains. He does what he's told and far more.

Fast forward to imperial decline. Matt makes what is in some ways, the transition from Arthur's imperial lackey to Alfred's imperial lackey. But in others, he is properly, really independent this time. And now he's kind of got a dad he can push back on, who he can complain too, who he can let... Parent him. He has a partner who wants to support him. He's standing there with probably the best support network any country could ask for. And he doesn't know what the fuck to do with any of it. He feels plenty free to push back, to disagree. He can build a coalition, negotiate left right and centre. But ask for help? Affection? God no. He'll gnaw his own arm off rather than ask for a hand.

Just like Arthur wanted 200 years ago.

#hws england #hws canada #the ask box || probis pateo #arthur and the children || bilge rat and his bouncing baby bilge rats #matthew || my country is winter #arthur || stone set in the silver sea

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aphfanficwriters · 3 months

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Monthly Members' Fics — Jan 2024

In the year of a dragon by mossy_man (China/Russia, Russia/Spain) “I neglected your needs,” Yao sighs and scuttles closer and there is a slice of persimmon at Ivan’s lips. The gel slides over his lower lip and he catches it with his tongue. “Forgive me, Vanya. Blinded by my own bitterness, I was a poor host and a poor giver.”

Euphoria by Delgumo (Canada/Russia) Matthew enjoys a drunken quickie with a somewhat strange gentleman.

Before The Reyse (Part One) by proosh (Lithuania/Prussia) Day 1 - Soulmate tattoo/childhood promise. Tolys could smell the ocean from where he waited... It was just before the raiding season would begin in full and his brother was late.

Before The Reyse (Part Two) by proosh (Lithuania/Prussia) Day 7 - Not for you/mistaken identity It was their usual meeting spot before each of the raiding seasons, midsummer and midwinter. He could smell the ocean from here, bitter and churning from the autumn storms… Tolys was late.

The Hunt (Part One) by proosh (Lithuania/Prussia, implied Prussia/Russia) Day 2 - Omegaverse/hunting party All Russia had been summoned to the call to chase the French from their lands, and the winter in all its fury had come with them… Next to his brothers stood the interloper.

The Hunt (Part Two) by proosh (Lithuania/Prussia) Day 4 - Gifts/trophies They fell upon the stragglers at the frozen gully… Tolys didn’t get a chance to have a good look at them before the killing started.

Better than Gold by Jestemburakiem (Lithuania/Prussia, past Lithuania/Russia) Written for day four of Lietpru week The Story of Lithuania during the most pivotal moments of the modern history of his country: The 1992 Summer Olympic Men's Basketball Tournament. Prussia takes notice of this.

Макдоналдс by Delgumo (America/Russia) Russia and America host the grand opening of the first McDonald's in Russia.

So pour the champagne by mossy_man (Prussia/Russia) Some would love a house with white fence, a dozen or so of kids and a dog. Not Gilbert. Gilbert is perfectly fine as he is.

1001 Ways To Die — Chapter 7: Dying Days 2 by NashTea (Fishandnear) (Germay/Japan) Another impromptu session between Kiku and Ludwig partaking in their favourite activity, this time, it's a little different for Kiku.

Joy in Punishment by Delgumo (Canada/Russia) [no summary]

Little lamb by mossy_man (Mongolia/Russia) “Mongolia is like the sun,” he says. His big hands map Mongolia's face. “Lie down, for I am going to fuck you.”

we begin again by hopeless_nostalgia (England/Japan) After Kiku finds a bunch of old photos, he and Arthur go through them, causing old feelings to resurface.

because it's you, I'm fine by hopeless_nostalgia (England/Japan) Arthur is training to be an idol in Japan, which (obviously) requires him to learn Japanese. But it's a struggle… he keeps failing at the same points, over and over again. He feels so hopeless that he decides to skip class, go for a walk, and decide if it was even worth it—because at this rate, it will take years before he comes even close to debuting...

a scene without you by hopeless_nostalgia (England/Japan) Two years ago, Arthur graduated and went back to London. Kiku lost all contact with him a month before he boarded the plane, when in an odd little café, they decided that a long-distance relationship wouldn't work for them and that breaking up would be for the best. Now that these two years have passed, Kiku knows that that was not true. He sits in that same café, at that same table, and wishes there was a way to turn back time…

my heaven by hopeless_nostalgia (England/Japan) “You know… If you want to, we can still have a wedding,” Kiku suggested. “That might not be a bad idea,” Arthur chuckled weakly. “Maybe we should.”

#axis powers hetalia #hetalia world stars #hetalia #aph fanfiction #hws fanfiction #hetalia fanfiction #hetalia writers' association #post: monthly fic round-up #january 2024

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fivecenturiesverse · 11 months

Text

full discography for the “your love is standing next to me” series

Small Town Satan, (IP, Single, 1991)

“gotta run from myself // if I wanna outrun Matthew Hopkins // got blood on my hands // but I swear it’s from holding my own guts in”

Car Trunk’s Bloody, (NBB, Single, 1992)

“we got out // but I’m still wringing out bloody clothes // got weapons crusted black // in the trunk of my car”

Grand Canyon Through Town, (NBB, Single, 1993)

“she’s looking down the canyon // where daylily and larkspur grow // columbine and yarrow // wondering how Arizona came east”

“and when the gorge opens up // and swallows us down, down, darling // and our footprints, erased from the school bleachers // and the parking lots cave in like sink holes // just take my hand and we can fly // when the gorge opens up”

Iron Briars, (NBB, Album, 1994)

Iron Briars

“candle wax pools // still spool of fire gold // through iron the tennis // goes one way // then the next // one moment home // the next some place else // candle wax pools // but who lit the candle?”

Summer at Skull Rock

“war council by the great rock // had a few girls up here // when the weather was nicer // now summer sits storm heavy // and the flies hum in the shade // and the stink of loam rises // don’t think me and girls’ll be back again”

Eyeless House

“party town // pool fill up with blue sound // and spirits // (take a sip) of her soul or his // (take a sip) of whatever they offer round”

Tennis At The Country Club

“eighties lovers say: // just back from Greece, // European holiday // to Rome or Nice // country club girls // in tennis skirts // and mommy’s pearls // so the ball boy flirts. // you’re by the fence: // all American dirt // an’ no money sense // ball boy says // “twenty love” // but I think you’re // another kinda love”

Supine

“laying where the Dali clock drips // in the bed of pine needles // and the nest of second hands // time runs grey // not ichor bright // slow like a camel // and the eye of a needle // aureate sand in the hourglass // unblinking or maybe sleeping”

Racket

Flashy Car

Empty Master Bedroom

Tunnels

Whistles Moonlight

The Strangest Shade, (IP, Album, 1994)

The Strangest Shade

“jade’s a shade too bright and she // wades out beside me into the Styx // black dye bleeding from her little midnight dress // slack goes her mouth // and it isn’t dye but blood // hand to her stomach // I let Jade die // in the jade black waters // of Hades’ Styx”

Ghosts in Newspaper Print

“there’s a ghost sitting // on the wall where the clock should // she raises a finger to her lips // and it’s stained last years date // in newspaper ink // I want to go back, weather permitting”

Big City Satan

Glass Shards

Galactica Girl

Adeline

“she tastes like brine // my sweet Adeline // never seen a girl so fine // it’s like deep sea diving when our lips align // my girl so vulpine // and I cannot divine // why she wants to entwine // with me as her Valentine // the sweetest Adeline // how does outshine // even the coastline // rhyming goldmine”

Bo Peep

“we held tight the lambs // him and I // (him and I) // and stamped them // with our paint mark // so we might find them // when the world got dark”

“now they carry age // and heavy pelts of wool // still carrying our mark // in the eyes and the soul // and tells the world we were here // before they could stake a claim”

Corroded Coffin

Viscera

Ash Weekdays Ending in Y (For Preachers), (BTBB, Album, 1995)

Un-Nuclear Families

“miracles align when it’s you and I // facing down monsters as > mom and dad”

“don’t take my hand if it doesn’t feel right // God I hope > it feels right // feel like both my hands are left // and my feet forget to dance // and our kids are watching // ours since God made our shoulders wide // to hide them and build like Noah // a home from the kraken’s ribcage”

Winter Birds Love Ladies Too

“a little birdie tells me // to take one of seven deadly sins // like an old lady’s purse toffee // and stick my teeth together”

Ash Weekdays

“doesn’t hurt to try // if the day ends in ‘y’ // doesn’t hurt to try // till it does”

In My Palms

“however the time passes // like palm ashes through my fingers // the indent of your teeth // against the bone of my knuckle // feels like yesterday and today // and it will be tomorrow”

Was My Girl

She Is

Found Deep

For Preachers

Days Ending In

There’s Nothing Under the Bed, (NBB, Album, 1997)

Lost in Fairy Land

“lately when the house grows cold // I feel memories thought lost // creeping out of the dark // with white spider’s legs // they grow and grow // inch closer and closer // I feel memories thought lost // in the fires of fairy land”

Breaker Box

Dwell

Sarah

Maria

There’s Nothing Under the Bed

Eyes!

Eyes II

Bridal Style

Witches Screamer, (IP, Single, 1999)

“moons come crashing down // like asteroids of love”

“like asteroids of love // in the fever dream // where time waxes and wanes // falls wide open, gibbous // and lets the wide river time // draw past in slow and marching number”

Miracle Haze, (NBB, Album, 2000)

Fungi Funky

“beyond wasted babe, you think the sky crashes down”

Miracle Haze

“loving you like a bruise // don’t fade to that miracle haze // purple wine stain like a storm brews”

What He Said In Nonsense

“just try falling, it doesn’t matter why // promise it won’t hurt if it doesn’t”

“and it’s like sunlight // on my poor face // red lightning fades like capillaries // you bloodless but alive enough to smile”

Marmalade Mornings

Lavender, Allium

Space Out

Forage

Amelia

Pizza Van Greens

Cheapened Scars, (IP, Album, 2003)

Dream the Law Maker

“miraculous doesn’t fade like cheap scars // keep drinking pinot noir with panda eyes”

“she’s the asteroid and fever dream // it’s a miraculous, world cracking love // the cusp of greatness it seems // us with the wine-stain devotion // that won’t wash out // like rocks even time can’t carve aside”

Long Drive By Compass

“what I said that day, and why I left // haunt me like you in the back seat // from Cincinnati, on”

“long drive by nautical means // (magic compass) show me a way that ain’t home // feel like I’m swimming in you still // angry words like the choppy sea // first saw the sea with you // now you’re not beside me it seems // that life is a long drive by nautical means”

“your eyes in the back seat // from Cincinnati on // your dark eyes too warm // when your mouth is that cold”

Loveless Loser Overture

“sun strike me down now if I’m wrong // strike me down now // strike me down // bloodless like king kong”

“a V of geese silhouettes // marking the season turn // like the browning leaves // and cold north winds // horizon afire with sunset // strike me down now // or send me home”

Pantyhose Doorknob

On The Run Blind

Shades

Motel Blues

Cheapened Scars

Stealing Candy From ‘Em is Easy, Try Killing For, (BTBB, Album, 2005)

Killing For Candy

“killing for you ain’t sweeter // but sometimes it’s easier // than taking loving hold of loving hand”

On the Road to Hell

“little council // full of words learnt // on the edge of death // and the cusp of life // I want to set school desks // amidst the rocks // and leave them to learn // while I ride // to the valley of death”

Dirty Mattress Portals

Aftermath

Back of the Gymnasium

“only time our paths cross // you drinking water like it’s life blood // sweaty bangs and short shorts // watching me sell out // to the after school flood”

Magic’s Name is Numbered

“magic’s a little girl (magic’s the little girl) // who talks on the radio (talks on the radio) // magic’s a little girl (magic’s the little girl) // standing next to me (standing in front of me) // when our days are numbered (numbered, darling) // magic’s that little girl (that little magic girl) // who rides the lightning storm”

Childhood Sweet Tooth

“he took a dance (she took a dance) // out on that gym made ballet score // she’s in her eyes (like the world spins past) // he’s in his eyes (like the sun awakens you) // they’re dancing up a storm // bright like nebulas made candyfloss (like liquorice black holes) // they took a dance (gym made ballet score)”

Quarry

Arcade Parking Lots

Fungi Funky Reprise, (NBB, Single, 2006)

“we know we’re madder // than that hatter // oh darling, at and with and -ly in // and something in-between // did you really think the sky would crash down? // when it’s you and me?”

The Orange Tree House, (NBB, Album, 2007)

Lionesses Stalk My Kitchen

“the girls bring in the carcass // rotting, foetid, technicoloured fleece of dreams // they say eat it, like toffees, this time swallow // and oh, my heads falling at the seams // and something in my heart is hollow // carrion crows hop on my lion’s deadly sin // the girls loll in the sun // and wait for us to eat”

“wrinkles and sun damage // on Leonid leonine eyes // textures my fingertips have known // counted, loved // smoothed and designed // an image of time // I: the architect”

Scarlette

“wind rush in the Corvette // her eyes starlit // and her kisses like orbit // eyes like chocolate // big bang started with a turn of the faucet // to meet Scarlette // brink where stars are darkest // her eyes starlit // and her kisses like orbit // eyes like chocolate”

Greenwich Mean Time

“time feels like rust on a porch swing // like flowers growing where the earth // opens her mouth to sing // time feels like that, on summer days”

Polarise / Polar Rise / Polaroid

“_polarise opinion, doe eyes // darling knows she’s too good for Polaroid // but digital’s for the tabloid // let me take a picture girl in Vogue // polar ice will rise // before your looks polarise // Polaroid like it’s eighties, darling // doe eyes, and kissing girls // is in vogue”

Oranges

Bella

1990

Guest Room

Suntrap Garden

Gilded, (IP, Single, 2008)

“it was girls hopping stepping stone rocks // below the boulders of your gallery // (take your pick, liege) // beer sweating up in the copse // please don’t ask for Mallory // she don’t want to join the gilded folk // or to float that blue sound soak // girl on the stepping stones alone // someone said her name is Sloane”

“soft eyed king // and Sloane // outside the stars and Mallory // dance the wizard dance // John and the innocent // tied by strings”

Daffodils In Autumn, (NBB, Single, 2009)

“don’t turn your eyes from that rear-view // I’m in the mirror calling, don’t look at the road ahead”

“Leala follows God across the sky // in your wing mirror // held by spider web strings // into blue and bird sound sky // into grey overcast // ahead on the road // songs and stars dance // Leala holds her peace // I’m in the mirror calling, please”

Wish Monsters Stayed Dreaming, (BTBB, Album, 2013)

Second Look

“honey, I’ve gotta feeling somethin’s outside // don’t take a second look, I don’t wanna know”

Where Are We Going Now

“I’m looking in the mirror, can’t see you now // (passenger seat, darling) // you were meant to haunt me, I’m still looking back // (passenger seat, darling)”

“sun don’t matter if the moon’s looking on // like miracles in solar flares // lighting us both just enough to see by”

Stayed Dreaming

Wishing Well

Flowers, No Note

Shoulder To

Tableau

Open Season

Salmon Run

Northern Lights Off Switch

Corner of the Dance Floor

Gonna Be Abput Yoou, (IP, Single, 2014)

“made you a promise // built on our ash-soaked rudiments // like cornerstones bleeding tequila come new year’s eve // but I made you a promise, spirit eyed or not // this songs gonna be about you”

“call me back on things I said // say nothings changed // but the sun don’t burn so bad // love was something I did to you // now it’s something I drown in // call me back on the things I said // I’m gonna uphold promises, I’m gonna tear down threats”

“made you a promise // built on our ash-soaked rudiments // like cornerstones bleeding come midsummer // I made you a promise, fat fingered or not // this songs gonna be about you”

All This Way Please, (IP, Album, 2015)

Love’s A Lake

“on the heart shaped bank // waits youth in the wings // watching as we plunge // to the brackish jade waters sank // where hell awaits, eerily sings // for them, I think // we return from the brink”

Hellfire

All This Way

“_wet paper // tears beneath my feet // and we go tumbling // one year to the next // hardly a moment to grab on // and make memories // even in the slow heat of morning // and the hum of summer afternoons”

Pleasing

Begging You On the Way (Out)

Devil’s Tang — erine

Drowning Tax

Georgia

Elephant in the Room

The Forest Out Back, (NBB, Album, 2016)

Eden’s

On Moss

“time like hot soup // afternoons like treacle wells // until the flowers droop // and curl their petals // into bedtime kisses // the mosquitoes and the stars // and laughter gells // tears in the dark // where monsters still sleep // by the sundial mark”

The Forest Out Back

Skull Rock Revisited

“sunbeams through spring leaves // us at the altar that holds minds // the lake deepens ahead like warning clouds // the children kneel about us // and we bind our hands // sunbeams through spring leaves // at the boulder of love born again”

Oaken

Sunbed Wilderness

The Valley

School’s Out

Wine Stain

Sundress

Ellie

Blood in the Water’s Good for Drowners, (BTBB, Album, 2023)

Lady Jane Grey of the Basketball Team

“tell them what you want // an’ don’t line up that shot // tell them what you want, hold it up to vaunt // don’t let it be the crown baby, it’s thorns baby // I’ve given up that throne, isn’t mine to haunt”

“lion’s mane and pool aquamarine // don’t open up your mouth // and show us the hollows // they took your fangs, baby // and with it the crown”

Entwined

“side by side (by side) // entwined at the mountaintop // no more time to bide (to bide) // just us at the world’s stop // where time goes on (the great beyond)”

Letters for the Bold

“whole constellations fall // the moment we breathe // and stars flicker out and die // and the blackness of space overwhelms // the phone line clicks // somewhere I’m still breathing”

“you said the moon falls // you said that space is nothing // but what’s that now creeping over the garden walls // if space is nothing // where do monsters breathe // and flicker // and die”

Ice Rings Like Saturn

“there isn’t time to talk // I’ve been hiding in dark spaces // there’s only time to sing there // only time to write // darling, I’ve tried talking // in the dark spaces”

Sun-Bleached Bones

“blood in sun soaked water // do you feel like you’re drowning now? // SPF and pool noodle, space suit left back stage”

“I’ve been hiding, back seat and rear-view // but been loving you since y days”

“it’s always been bats for us and bats don’t swim // but there’s blood in sun soaked water // and your bones are white like mine // let me touch them, when I can see not moonlit // when the biggest star looks close // do you feel like you’re drowning now?”

In Legalese: Can’t Tell You More ft. Tammy Thompson

“What did you say to me, hello? That the fires burn yellow? // Now I’ll take you by the elbow “baby, forecast says snow” // You say it’s August, you doing blow? // I’ll say it’s this town, baby! This fucking town! // Fires burn black and snows year round // And dead don’t mean dead until you see it first hand // What did you say to me, hello? That the fires burn yellow? // Now I’ll take you by the elbow “baby, forecast says snow” // You say it’s August, you doing blow? // Blossoms open with teeth and tongues // And the bats are really vampires, baby. // I can’t tell you again, it’s this fucking town. // In the snows // With vampires // And petal maws // This fucking town // Don’t ask me on air // (Oh babe, please don’t) // Can’t say more, babe // Don’t ask me on air // (Small print, baby) // In the snows // With vampires // And petal maws // This fucking town // When the gorge opens up”

Silver

“dying isn’t so much one silence // but one mellow moment // and another // honeyed sweet // and going silver // like slow worms and iron // feels like becoming the earth // before it eats you”

“curling in the coffins // with silver bones // fusing to ancient stones”

Blood in the Water

Good for Drowners

Memories in Triplicate

Treasure Map

spent the afternoon adding songs to the incompleted albums. this (should be) a complete list of all the lyrics i wrote for any of the songs. as with all my fics i welcome transformative media (just use the inspired by function on ao3/tag me) so feel free to go wild if you want to write any of the rest of these songs. it’s been fun writing the series and i hope you enjoyed it to!

love fives

#someone asked for this #so here you all go

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