cliche
by mxmtoon
i just stared
and you grinned
and looked right back
it felt like just one big whirlwind
one big whirlwind
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did u know i accidentally published this a while ago 😫
me and my cheeto hands 😤
yes, and the usual:
notice any mistakes or plotholes ill be there as fast i can, fixing stuff in the speed of light
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𝕋𝕙𝕖 𝕗𝕖𝕖𝕝𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕠𝕗 𝕕𝕒𝕞𝕡 𝕒𝕟𝕕 𝕨𝕖𝕥 𝕔𝕝𝕠𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕤 𝕙𝕒𝕤 𝕟𝕖𝕧𝕖𝕣 𝕗𝕖𝕝𝕥 𝕤𝕠 𝕦𝕟𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕗𝕠𝕣𝕥𝕒𝕓𝕝𝕖 𝕥𝕠 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕌𝕊𝕊ℝ.
He silently curses himself for forgetting to bring an umbrella with him in case downpour happened.
It's not like the weatherman at the telly reported any sign of a rainfall coming over.
(telly - another name for television)
Perhaps it was sudden?
Or was it a god's way of toying with him?
He shakes his head.
He needs not to believe in such foolish superstition - he is a man of science.
Diverting his attention to the piles of Leninade bottles on the side, a vodka he favored and assisted in making with an old friend once upon a time - he exhaled a puff of hot breath.
I really need to cut back on drinking these days, it is not doing me any good.
He patiently waited and waited to enter his home, but there was no reply.
'How so?' he thinks. He had heard commotion before and the lights were turned on - surely there must be someone inside?
He lifts his right arm, knocking once more on the mahogany entry before his ears picked up the sound of shuffling behind it.
"Move it! You need to hide!"
"Ow..!"
USSR's brow furrowed in confusion, contemplating and somewhat concerned about the whatever situation his children have found themselves in.
"Почему мы их прячем? Нет ничего плохого в том, чтобы приглашать гостей."
(Why are we hiding him? There is nothing wrong with inviting guests over.)
"Блін, ти знаєш, хто батько Америки?!"
(Damn it, do you know who America's father is?!)
"Я знаю, но все равно не вижу проблемы-"
(I know, but I still do not see the problem-)
USSR fumbles and searches for the spare key behind one of the bottles, he ceased and flinched once he felt a sharp pain on his index finger - but continued to search for the key.
Making contact with the cold, icy sensation of a metal key, he jams the spare key into the door's knob.
Twisting and turning it, he swiftly opens the door.
There, USSR stood at the doorway, soaking and dripping wet with a bleeding index finger, staring at the commotion.
His orbs darted around, softening as he spots the familiar faces of his family, narrowing as he spots the unfamiliar face of America.
Ame could only sweatdrop along with the others.
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9:10 PM • AMERICA'S ROOM
"C'mon, respond - respond." Canada was biting his fingernails as he awaited a reply from America.
Canada pressed the call button and leans his phone in his ear.
"[Sorry, the number you have dialed is currently unavailable-]"
Canada places his phone on the desk.
"What did he say?" Australia asks, leaning into the couch as he waited anxiously.
Canada exhaled, running his fingers on his head as he faces his brother. "No reply."
"Darn."
New Zealand groaned covering his faceas he slumps on the door, before finally facing his brothers. "This means we should do Plan B, right?"
Oz and Canada faced their brother, nodding.
"Fine, you guys owe me one, okay?" NZ grumbled, rummaging through America's closet.
As he shoved his hand deeper, he felt the texture of a plastic bag brush his fingers. Letting a confused noise, he instantly grabs it.
Bringing his arm out, he holds a plastic bag containing something.
Spilling the contents of the bag, a striped blue and white men's tanktop falls to the floor before it was picked up by Canada.
"Uhm..." NZ coughs in discomfort. "I don't remember America owning this."
"Plus, the size is too big for him." Oz chimed in as he inspects the clothing.
"I feel like I know that somewhere..."
Canada murmured, scrambling his mind to try and remember.
-------
HIGHSCHOOL TRACKFIELD
XX years ago
Canada sat at the bench as he waited for America, the latter being punished due to misbehaving at NATO's class.
He sighed as he formed a small grin - imagining his older brother's expression as he was forced to listen through whatever reprimands his merciless teacher gave.
Catching sight of Ukraine on the trackfield, running on the track from afar, along with his team. For a short moment, he admires - before quickly looking away to avoid being caught by the latter for staring.
'What are you doing? This is embarassing - stop gawking at him, he'd think you're a weirdo and an idiot.'
A call of his name returned him to reality.
Looking up, he spots the familiar figure of Russia running towards him.
"Yes?" Canada questions, as he takes note of Russia's current wear. "You're unusually wearing warm clothing today."
"I am aware." Russia panted as he regains his breath - the hot, sweltering sun glistening his skin as he wiped the sweat off his forehead.
"Someone has taken my change of clothes a while ago, have you seen them?"
"Aw, that sucks. I haven't, sorry." Canada pities him, and wished to help him - but he's still waiting for his brother... or maybe he's just too lazy to get up and made an excuse to avoid helping. "I'll let you know if I see it."
"Thank you." Russia waved goodbye as he continued to jog back to the field, returning to his group, leaving him alone again.
Continuing to wait for America, he plugs in his earphones as he listened to his playlist.
-------
He must've waited for a while, the sun had already began to set - engulfing him in the warm colors of orange and violet. If he squinted hard enough, he might notice the presence of the stars above.
In the distance, he sees his brother walking up to him.
"About time you got out." Canada chuckles as he stood up and started to walk. "What happened?"
"He didn't go easy on me, he was fuckin' merciless!" America whined, drenched in sweat. "He made me clean the men's bathroom, and it was disgusting!"
"He also took my shades!"
Canada laughs as he pat his brother's back. "Don't cuss and misbehave in Professor NATO'S class then."
"Also, you have dozens of spare shades back home."
"That one was special to me." America scowls, before rummaging through his bag for spare clothes.
He pulls up a plastic bag.
America's mind doesn't register as he stopped walking, all color draining from his face.
'Oh stars. Did he really get the wrong bag of clothing? He wasn't really paying attention - he's embarassed, he's ashamed-'
Canada, noticing that the footsteps of his brother stopped, turns around and spoke. "America? What's wrong?"
America froze, slowly turning to face his brother as he shoved the plastic back into his bag with the speed of lightning.
'Alright America, play it cool, play it cool - he won't notice!'
...
...
...
"NOTHING IS WRONG." He yells.
Canada jolts from the sudden raise of tone in his brother's voice.
Feeling the short amount of adrenaline go away, he recovers.
"Okay..." Canada trails off, confused by the sudden change of behavior from his brother.
They continued to walk back home, arriving before the stars filled the sky.
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Canada's eyes widen - his mind clicking in recognition.
Uncomfortable silence filled the room.
"Maple..?" Australia inquires, slowly approaching his brother with a face of concern. "Are ya' okay?"
Canada's form shook and trembled, before exploding into hysterics as he snorted and laughed.
"Oh my g o d!" Clutching his stomach in pain, as he laughed - Canada spoke. "That's Russia's!"
"Excuse me, what?" Oz questions, a look of confusion written on his face before he too, burst into giggles. "What?! *wheeze*"
"That's really creepy." NZ comes of America's closet, sporting his brother's signature bomber jacket and shades. "Y'know what, I'm not even gonna ask. - Do I look okay?"
"You're lackin' the height, but a bit of face paint would do the trick." Australia suggested, examining NZ's form. "Is that flimsy fuck gonna return this to him?"
"I doubt that. It has been a long time since he accidentally took that." Canada shook his head. "He probably uses it as a pillow case or something."
"Mayhaps," Oz shrugged. "Probably somethin' worse. You know how he is with his hormones-"
Australia stops as a soft, fluffy pillow collides with his face - his back meeting the wall from surprise.
Regaining his composure, his face twists into that of annoyance before glancing at Canada - the latter shaking his head as he points to NZ.
"I can't with you two-" NZ complains, reaching for another pillow on America's bed.
"Aight, aight, knock it off - I'll stop!" Australia begs for mercy, shielding his face with his arms as he prepares for another pillow to be launched at him.
Canada chuckles with a strange smile at the two.
Picking up his phone from the desk, he widens his eyes at the message notification.
He figures it's America. He doesn't have a lot of notifications as he rarely gives out his number, unless asked by a friend.
[burgerman 🍔]: just connected right now
[burgerman 🍔]: rain's really wack
[burgerman 🍔]: cant come home rn
[burgerman 🍔]: just say im at france or something
Canada laughs to himself. The whole fiasco with his brothers wasn't needed at all, but it was enjoyable.
come tf home|
Erased - too aggressive.
rain cant stop u lol|
Also erased, it makes him seem like a douche.
An idea pops into his head.
[Canada U.]
can i name the kids?
He awaits for his brother's reply, smirking.
[burgerman 🍔] is typing...
Here it comes.
[burgerman 🍔]: IRJFB4ISKFJR
[burgerman 🍔]: fuck off
[burgerman 🍔] renamed you into [leaf bitch 🍁]
[leaf bitch 🍁]
that's the best you can come up with?
[leaf bitch 🍁]
i'd laugh if it wasnt so sad
[burgerman 🍔]: shut up
[burgerman 🍔]: it's the best i can do alright 😤
Canada rolled his eyes, wearing a slight grin on his face.
A stray pillow whizzed past him.
Turning away from his phone, his view is met with the forms of his 2 brothers - pointing at eachother, pillows in hand.
He hides under his brothers desk to avoid getting caught in the crossfire.
[leaf bitch 🍁]
k.
"It's over, New Zealand!" Oz screeches, preparing to smack his brother with a pillow. "I have the high ground!"
NZ's face darkened, tightly gripping on a pillow. "You underestimate my power."
Oz yells a war cry.
"Don't try it!"
[leaf bitch 🍁]
use protection okay
Oz and NZ smack eachother with pillows, the sound of fabric and cotton colliding with their bodies filling the room along with their yells.
A small ding comes out from Canada's phone.
'[You have been temporarily blocked for 9 Hours. If this was an error, please contact support.]'
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'[You have blocked this contact for 9 Hours. If this was an error, please contact support.]'
'Jackass.' He thought.
America grinds his teeth in irritation, muting and making the phone's screen face the surface of the table.
The warmth on his face fading after.
Awaiting for Russia's father was nerve-racking, accompanied by the tense silence - the wait was unbearable.
On the other hand, Ukraine is tending to the wound of his father in the kitchen, disinfecting the cut with povidone-iodine before wrapping a bandage around it.
America leans into the couch in an attempt to soothe his nerves.
There Belarus sat on the the other chair, twiddling her thumbs in what he thinks is boredom.
He thinks for a way to get her attention, a lightbulb floating in his head as he finally found one.
After he coughed, Belarus diverts her attention towards him. "Yes?"
"AmIintrouble?" he faltered, with a grin so strained you would think he was held at gunpoint.
"No, silly Amieryka." Belarus consoled, placing her hands on the chair's armrest. "Is something wrong?"
America visibly relaxes, exhaling a breathe that he didn't notice that he was holding. "Not really - why were you guys trying to hide me?"
"Oh," she halts before sighing. "It was mainly to not get us in trouble - and to save you from embarassment."
"Sorry."
"Nah, that's alright. Me and my bro's would do the same." America assured, signing out an 'ok' hand symbol. "But we don't often have guests."
"Oh, that's too bad." Belarus took pity, her face falling crestfallen. "How's Canada?"
In the kitchen, Ukraine pauses for a moment, returning his attention back to his task shortly after.
"My bro?" America put a hand in his chin as he pondered. "He's acting weird lately - but he's mainly okay. Why?"
Belarus' eyes relaxed, shortly glancing at her brother before she shook her head. "Nothing. Someone wanted to ask - but they're busy at the moment."
America tilted his head quizically, but paid no mind to it - dropping the topic, when suddenly-
"So, the son of the UK. What brings you here at my household?"
2,144 words
AUTHOR'S NOTE
hey y'all sorry i had to cut it out, it was getting too long for my liking so i'm gonna have to put the other in the next chapter
BONUS
"Jupiter." Earth calls out.
Jupiter perked up at the call of his name, spinning around and facing Earth. "Yeah?"
"What's with the rainclouds gathering around one specific location?" Earth inquires, the clouds on top of his head thick from Jupiter's interference.
"Are you messing with me, or did you make more to play with my humans affairs?"
"No..?" Jupiter twiddles his index fingers, whistling. "Now why would I do that..?"
"Jupiter, that's Venus' job." Earth grumbles in annoyance. "And you're associated with storms, remember?"
"I am?" Jupiter's nervousness rises, before an idea appears in his head. "Neptune- Maybe Neptune made them!"
"Neptune?" Earth mutters, face written with confusion. "Why Neptune?"
"He, uh, makes storms and weather stuff too, y'know!" Jupiter defends himself. "Maybe try asking him?"
Earth's eyes glint with suspicion, before he decides on asking Neptune.
"I'm not done with you."
Jupiter is visibly afraid.
NEXT CHAPTER PREVIEW
- W: May or may not be changed.
"So, are you and my son..?"
"No." He shook his head with vigor.
"That was quite... fast. Well, the rain wouldn't stop anytime soon - so, make yourself at home."
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"They are good children, the road ahead of them will get bumpy and difficult every once in a while - but I assure you, they have good intentions."
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"My apologies but, I can't. I..." he trails off.