#What I am REALLY missing is just a friend for Soph who can be Michelle.

[breitzbachbea]

I think explaining in bullet points how we got here will be more informative than me trying to explain anything, so here goes nothing:

- Got obsessed with Hetalia at age 14

- Met someone online who became a dear friend. I had a couple of UK OCs, he had a Sicily OC.

- Mash em together because that is what you DO with OCs. Agree on an art trade, where I get art and they get a story.

- I'm 14. I don't know shit about Sicily. We are of course like 'Hey how about a Mafia AU?' for the story.

- I end up needing Human OCs to fill some roles in the story. It is supposed to be one-off, the OCs were supposed to be killed off. Nothing big.

- Uh-oh, someone got attached to blorbo from their braaain. The worldbuilding spirals out of control. I keep making more Human OCs. It takes me 2 years to finish the fic and by the end of it, I love all of these motherfuckers dearly and have already made 30 new ones.

- It's always the same basic pattern for the AU: The Heta characters are mob bosses and each of them have two right hands. From these Trios (sometimes we have 4) spiral all other OCs - Parents, friends, acquaintances, foes, etc. That is how I ended up with over 200 OCs for this thing.

- If you see me blog about the Irish, that's basically: Harry (My Ireland OC), Sophie (My Northern Ireland OC), Paddy and Charlie. Charlie is Harry's childhood best friend while Paddy was already a right hand to Harry's and Soph's father Aaron. He helped raise the two, especially Soph, since their mother Freya died in childbirth.

- The Sicilians, which usually accompany them are Michele (Sicily OC, mine now) as well as the twins Marco and Lorenzo. They ran away from home at age 12 and Michele, only 18 himself, turned them away at first, not wanting them to throw their life away for this hellscape, but eventually took them in when he couldn't persuade them to go home. So he raised them and they ended up his right hands.

- For all the other OCs .... Again. Over 200. And there IS a Mainstory and various more or less canon stories over on my ao3, but the purpose of the AU is less to tell one tightly knit story where we focus on a handful of protagonists and everyone else supports them. It's more creating a bunch of colorful characters that all populate this world and are the protagonists of their own stories, which overlap and intersect with the other characters' stories, but aren't necessarily affected by much of the other bullshit going on in this world.

Does that at least partly clear things up?

I'm willing to answer all and any questions to make you less confused about my OC posting lol

Tbh I have no idea what to ask I'd need like. A general introduction first because what I got doesn't amount to much

[diary4]

14/8/18

Fucks sake.I’m currently engaged in mission ‘get all the way to Bristol and take my stuff out of the boys house to my house then get home again without anyone noticing’, and so far I’ve made a right cock up of the whole thing. Got to Egham station at an inconvenient time anyway because it was inbetween trains to Reading so I had to wait 20 minutes for one. Then somehow, I was so lost in my own stupid thought that when the train to Reading came I did t even notice, and by the time I’d realised and ran to it it was already pulling away.Serves me right I guess. It’s just another one of the blows karmas dealt me since I officially gave up on morality.Oh yeah, that’s right, you guessed it.I suppose this chapter of the story, which is kind of like chapter two of the Eric saga, commencing after the yearnful intermission, started last Friday. So this is the Friday that’s Friday fast approaching Saturday which would be the Saturday to mark 2 weeks since I officially broke things off with Eric. Had a god awful boring week last week where absolutely no one was around and absolutely nothing happened. Started going stir crazy. More than relieved when Michelle planned to have this little gath on Friday night.Anyway the whole thing turned out to be a bit of a cop out, because there wasn’t enough alcohol and it was a weird, Jamie Foster dominated crowd. The ‘main event’ was Molly’s new boyfriend Oscar, being trotted out and introduced for the first time. It was especially exciting because the word (corroborated by social media) was that he was really really peng. Anyway, it was funny because he turned out to be kind of a dweeb - he had a bit of a tragic man bun and he vaped and he tucked his tshirt into his jeans etc. Anyway, I got pretty drunk and ended up kinda passed out with Soph and Smell on the sofa, in self imposed exile of the general conversation which we only joined in to nag John to take us home. I don’t know if it’s cos it was kind of a shitty night or cos I felt kind of excluded, or if it was just a side effect of being drunk and free of inhibitions, but all of a sudden all I wanted to do was forget all this abstinence nonsense and hit up Eric. Maybe it was also something to do with how unbearably horny I’ve been all week - the predictable time of the month. Anyhow, I felt no pressure to follow through on Friday night only because I knew I was going out again the next day, and that that would provide a far better opportunity to hook up. In the morning I sort of told myself that the whole thing was rubbish, but I think that in my heart I kind of knew that there was no way I wasn’t messaging him on Saturday.Anyway. Saturday rolls around. Unbearably hungover. Meant to be going to Maddie’s to pre for this Artshouse festival thing in London. The whole day has been organised and sold as Maddie’s leaving party, and despite the fact I no longer like Maddy and didn’t really know anyone else going apart from Beth, I’d allowed myself to be convinced to go by Beth, who I felt guilty for leaving alone. I had apprehensions, but I sort of knew it would be fine - once you’re drunk things normally are - and besides, aren’t I supposed to thrive around new people when wasted? It’s true, I always manage to make some random friends. And I did. I can’t be bothered to describe the whole day because it’s not really the topic of chapter two, but yeah, it was fucking lit, i slammed way too much coke, was lucid for the most part but am missing a patch between dancing and being on the tube home with Beth, and, oh yeah, around 7 pm lost all inhibitions completely and hit Eric up with an ‘oi’.It was raining hard, we were drenched to the skin and being shunted around to the sound of tech. I wiped the water off my phone and checked it once every ten minutes or so - after forty minutes he still hadn’t responded. Imagine my sudden panic. Here I had been, assuming that Eric was on standby and would always be there when I fancied dipping my toe back into sin. What if he had in fact moved on? What if he was going to blank me - leave me on read? What if this was operation Lucas all over again?!!In a desperate bid to retain my dominance in the relationship, I sent an angry follow up: ‘don’t you dare ignore me Eric, you shit’.Anyway, long story short, he replied soon after that and we arranged to meet up that evening. My memory sort of melts away around this point, but I know from the messages that I was pretty forward and initiated quite a lot of the whole thing. I resurface from the blackout on the tube with Beth, and it’s at this mind fuck that we resurface.Riding the line with Beth. We’re having some melty, loud, drunk conversation, lying all over each other and the carriage. Then she has to get off at a stop and I’m left on my own, sliding away from the back of her blonde head and the platform and not knowing where the hell im going.Hit up Eric - ‘I’m in central’ (I think?)He comes back saying he’s wine drunk and tired and can’t be bothered coming to central, so I say I’ll come meet him in Uxbridge. Only problem is - how to get there.At this point i try to ascertain my location and find myself staring hard at the blue rectangle that says ‘Embankment’. Right. All I need to do is get onto that blue Piccadilly line, then I can slide all the way down to Uxbridge easy peasy.How I managed to get onto the Jubilee line I will never know - my navigational tactics were just sheer will power. At one point I got on a train, realised I was sliding in the wrong direction and had to do a rapid U-y at the next stop. Somehow, though, around 11 at night, I found myself gliding into Uxbridge station. By this point of course my phone had gone flat, but I haphazardly hoped this wouldn’t pose a problem, and it didn’t, because when I came through the barrier Eric was sitting, dark and broody, in the corner of the station.So he gave me his coat, a kind of quilted denim thing, because ow as wearing nothing but a crochet bralet, and we hooked arms and began ambling towards his. When we got there we continued drinking wine, and I think we did kiss quite a bit but nothing else, our clothes stayed very much on and I sat on his stomach and rattled off what I’d been doing all week and the conversation got deeper until (I don’t remember this) eventually I fell asleep on his chest.So here’s the thing - I fucking fancied him so much. It was like all the doubt and annoyance that had made me doubt whether I did before had evaporated, absense had done its fondening work on the heart, and we were head over heels, all over each other, all gazing eyes and thoughts like ‘I just can’t believe how handsome you are’ bouncing about in my brain. It was the same the next morning - we chattered and laughed with all the ease in the world, and lolopped on each other and I could barely tear myself away to go home.It’s wet and strange but I really just can’t get over how perfect he looks. So I’m not stupid, I know he’s not the best looking person in the world. But for me, for my personal taste, he just looks perfect - like he’s just perfect?! I could play with his hair and stuff for hours man. Hell.He made this stupid spoof film with his friend Janek, ‘the polish cinematographer’, which is on YouTube. In it they’re just sitting around smoking chatting shit trying not to crack up. Basically when I’m bored I just whack it on and I can’t stop watching it. It’s like back when I first met Charlie and I had those two videos of him impersonating Varys and saying ‘if you don’t have a croquet lawn you’re a fucking peasant’ that I couldn’t stop looking at. Except Eric just looks so much better. I don’t know if that’s the me of today talking or if the me of two years ago would agree. Either way - that’s how I feel now. This shifting sands of time and personality thing is impossible to keep up with. I guess you just have to surf the present ?I hope Eric feels the same way as me. I’m kind of concerned that he isn’t really capable of getting all giddy and in love and excited, because he’s been with with so many people and had so much of it. Even I can sort of sense how this time isn’t going to be as giddy and as romantic as it was with Charlie - the first time is always the best, salt in the glass of water that is your heart etc. There were a few things he said which sort of indicate that he really does like me. In the morning, wrapped in each other’s arms with some music humming in the background he said ‘this is what I missed. Just chilling. You are one chillllll motherfucker’. Does that equate to being someone with whom he feels himself falling mind body and soul infatuatedly in love with? Maybe...?​