Sep 16, 2023
Today's independence daaaaaay
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Today's independence daaaaaay
Francis and Ale “How did you get these bruises? Please don’t lie to me.”
The sun was setting on the day as France looked out from one of the many comfortable spots on the veranda. He as sitting on a daybed tucked against one of the walls. It was a soft spot, and he found himself very impressed with Mexico’s taste in comfortable furniture.
It would have been difficult to find a space to rest in this palace that was not comfortable. The palace was full of places to sit. He assumed it was because of Mexico’s propensity to sleep in the middle of the day.
Either way, it was a comfort after such a long journey from Paris. It was exhausting to go back and forth from Europe.
He wouldn’t usually make such a long trip as often as he did, but he enjoyed seeing Mexico. More and more lately, he missed Mexico in the time between his visits.
Every time Porfirio extended the invitation to him, he took it. It was his choice to see Mexico as often as possible, even if it made him tired.
He had a bottle of wine, a fine vintage, and he poured himself a glass. Mexico also kept a good wine cellar, though it had seemed like it was more empty than usual. He wasn’t going to question it, but it had also not escaped his notice.
He looked out over the city as the sun set. This was a beautiful vista, nearly as beautiful as the man who represented it.
As the thought crossed his mind, Mexico appeared in his peripheral vision. He was still handsome, but he looked like something was draining the life from him.
During the Second Empire he had been so full of life and vitality. It was such a stark change. There were dark circles under his eyes, and a few healing marks on his neck.
France could see the outlines of the dark, possessive bruises, even if they had faded in the middle. They looked to him like marks from a mauling. He knew who was responsible, and that Mexico usually dodged talking about the perpetrator when they were together.
Mexico said, “I assume you would like my company.”
France nodded, and opened his arms invitingly. Mexico was the only reason he was here, and he wanted to be able to hold him.
Certainly he was not visiting for Porfirio, or the ridiculous goal of teaching Mexico culture. The young man didn’t need that at all. He could be very cultured when he chose to be, and France did not need to help him.
What Mexico did need was someone to listen to him, and France knew he could provide that.
Mexico flashed him a flirtatious smile and immediately sat between his legs and leaned back against him. He was sitting with his back flush against France’s chest.
He ran one hand playfully up France’s thigh and said, “What a comfortable little spot you’ve chosen. It’s very intimate.”
He rolled the word off of his tongue seductively, and France had to admit he was tempted by their closeness, and the touch on his leg. He had always found Mexico alluring, and that hadn’t changed.
But at the moment, he didn’t quite want that yet. He wanted to hold the exhausted looking young man and watch the sunset with him.
He responded, “I like the view from here.”
He looked out at the city, and then at Mexico. The young man’s shirt was open except for the bottom two, and France could see a couple of dark patches across his skin.
He hoped they were just shadows from the shirt and the dying light.
Mexico gave him a smirk and said, “You aren’t a bad view either.”
Then he eagerly pressed his lips against France’s. His touch was needy, like he felt it was clear what he wanted and there was no use in pretense. France kissed him back, letting their lips mold together. He put his free hand on Mexico’s cheek and cradled the young man’s face tenderly.
He hoped that Mexico could feel that his touch was more than lust and more than need.
When they parted, Mexico licked his lips and said, “You’re already had wine.”
France continued to hold him as he said, “I did. I opened a bottle. I should have gotten you a glass as well. I will do that if you will get off of me.”
He felt Mexico lean back into him, putting more of his weight on him. He said, with a coy look, “No, stay here. I don’t want you to go anywhere. It’s not a problem.”
With that, he picked up the bottle of wine in one smooth motion. He put the bottle to his lips and took a long drink.
France was slightly shocked at how easily he seemed to down it. He said, “Hold on a moment. Actually taste it.”
Mexico put down the bottle and turned to him, and cuddled closer. He said, “It all tastes the same if you drink enough.”
He then tried his best to smirk charmingly and added, “But we won’t be able to enjoy our night if I have too much, so I will stop.”
He put his hand back on France’s thigh, being utterly unsubtle in his desires. France looked down at his hand, and noticed the dark marks around his wrists.
Those were not so easy to dismiss as anything else. He could see each of the fingers clearly. France felt his heart sink at such a clear mark.
He said, “There is less wine than there was last time I was here. Have you been drinking more?”
Mexico shrugged like it was an uninteresting topic. He answered only once France turned his gaze onto him somewhat sternly.
He said, “I have had a few more glasses every night. It dulls the world.”
France moved his hand to Mexico’s hair and stroked it lovingly. He knew that Mexico was trying to sound nonchalant, but his words betrayed pain. If he was drinking that much, he must be hurt.
Mexico was brilliant and witty and clever, and it was tragic to him that anyone would blunt that with too much wine.
France asked softly, “Is it because of him?”
Mexico shrugged again, somewhat lest convincingly this time. He seemed to want to avoid the subject, like he always did. France usually wouldn’t pressure him, but he needed an answer to all of the bruises.
Mexico answered, his voice tense, “You know it is.”
They had never discussed it, but France was well aware of America’s controlling influence. He knew that it was part of the reason Mexico had chosen their affair, because he craved something that was his own choice.
But, he had never noticed so many bruises before, and he felt like he needed some answer about them. He ran one finger lightly over the bruises on Mexico’s wrist and asked, “And are these because of him too?”
Mexico recoiled, pulling his hand back into his own lap.
He sighed, and France got the distinct sense that he was ruining the moment. But, he wanted Mexico to know that he cared about him beyond their time in the bedroom.
Mexico responded tersely, “Do we have to talk about this? You just got here, and I want to be with you.”
France knew he was pushing Mexico to an uncomfortable subject, but he felt like it would be callous to ignore it. He said, “How did you get these bruises? Please don’t lie to me.”
Mexico moved uncomfortably against him. The question was making him squirm. But, he answered anyway, “Alfred is too strong and he grabs me too hard when we’re together. I bruise easily.”
France felt like he was being lied too, because he could not imagine that anyone would be so careless. He was also certain that Mexico did not bruise easily, or take so long to heal. He felt certain that America was doing it on purpose, because no one would stop him.
He prodded, trying to get the truth out of Mexico, “Is that really all it is?”
Mexico sighed again and said, “He isn’t doing it intentionally. Alfred just doesn't care if he hurts me.”
France wished he could do anything to alleviate the sound of pain in Mexico’s voice. He wasn’t sure what to say back. Instead, he stroked Mexico’s hair in a way that might convey some love.
Mexico turned himself completely around so that he was face to face with France. He said, “Can we not talk about him? He's all I hear about from anyone all day. It’s always about what Alfred wants and how to keep Alfred happy. For once, can we pretend that there is no Alfred. There’s just you and me, and this.”
He took France’s face between his hands and pressed their lips together hard. His own parted like they were willing France to kiss him more deeply.
France could never resist temptation when Mexico offered it. He slipped his tongue between Mexico’s lips. It was such a familiar feeling between them.
He heard Mexico let out a breath like a satisfied sigh at returning to something he understood. France’s hands found Mexico's hips and pulled him into his lap.
Mexico broke the kiss and said, slightly breathless, “Isn’t this better? You don't have to fret over me like you love me.”
The words were a shock. France said, trying to correct the flippant comment, “But I do love you.”
Mexico met his eyes and shook his head. He said, “Don’t tell me lover’s lies, Francis. You don't need them. I’m already yours.”
There was something profoundly empty behind his eyes when he said it. Like he didn't believe it possible that France could be sincere in his conviction. But he was painfully sincere. So sincere that the dark marks on Mexico’s skin hurt his heart.
He could only contemplate the emptiness behind the charm for a moment, because Mexico kissed him again.
He could feel desperation in the touch, like a man begging for the simplicity of something carnal. France was weak for Mexico and he knew it.
It was easy to lose himself in the tactile feeling of their embrace. He loved the way Mexico felt, and the smell of cactus flowers that clung to his hair. He loved the taste of Mexico’s silver tongue against his own.
The friction of the young man’s hips on his own was making his mind hazy. It would be easier, even blissful, to let the conversation end there. He knew how it would feel to let it go and let Mexico do as he wanted.
But, his heart said that he had to make one more effort.
He pulled back from the kiss, which earned him an unhappy whine from Mexico. He said, meeting Mexico’s eyes, “Alejandro, mon cher, I want to help you.”
He could hear how desperate his own voice sounded. He could not find the right words to say that he worried about him all the time when he didn’t hear from him. He wanted to say that it wasn’t about the sex. He wouldn’t spend the time to visit so often if he was only driven by his libido.
But, Mexico looked at him with a kind of empty amusement. He replied, “This does help me. This helps me forget.”
Even through the fog of his own desires, France felt a twinge of pity. If this intimacy was what helped, then he was willing to indulge it. It would satisfy his own lust.
He felt like nothing could be gained from the conversation, since Mexico was pushing him away. Even if he tried, this was not the moment.
Mexico shifted against his lap, effectively derailing France’s train of though in favor of more immediate pleasure.
Mexico said, in a voice that was husky and irresistible, “Please, Francis. Let me forget.”
His lusty, inviting look was too difficult to turn down. France took Mexico’s face in his hands and pulled him into another deep kiss. Even as he gave into the baser desire, the thoughts echoed in his head.
I love you. Please know that I love you.
💖 Lo que tu ship/OTP favorito de México dice de TI ...
English version ---> HERE
¡Hola a todos! Ya se va a terminar el mes del amor, e inspirada en los videos de “Lo que tu ship favorito de Hetalia dice de ti” y semejantes; y en vista de que México es uno de los países más shipeados, (al menos por el fandom de Countryhumans y Hetalia) decidí hacer esto en colaboración con mi prima. Básicamente es una recopilación de las características que comparten algunos fans cuando emparejan a México con otro país.
ADVERTENCIA Y NOTAS ANTES DE EMPEZAR:
- Dirigido tanto para fans de Countryhumans como de Hetalia. Aclaro que en este blog no se discute si uno es mejor que el otro, y disfrutamos la parte sana de ambos y evitamos la parte tóxica.
- Esto es solo por diversión, y NO SE DEBE TOMAR ENSERIO. Piénsalo como un horóscopo, puede que cumplas con alguna de las características, puede que no. El objetivo es reírnos un poco.
- Estamos conscientes de que no todos los ships aparecerán aquí, o no todos tendrán la misma extensión que otros. Intentamos juntar a todos los que fuera posible.
Sin más que agregar, comencemos:
@ask-thot-france is back which means they’re back ye e t
[Comic idea was by the mun of the Francey boi, plus we still agree for Mex and France to be canonly together on here y e e t---]
Lesbian! FraMex! :D
💖 What your favorite Mexico´s ship/OTP says about YOU ...
Spanish version —> AQUÍ
Hello everyone! The month of love is finally over, but before that, inspired by the “What your Favorite Hetalia ship says about you” and related; and since Mexico is one of the most shipped countries (at least by the Hetalia and Countryhumans latin fandom), I decided to make this in collaboration with my cousin. If you are not familiar with this, basically it is a recopilation of facts some people share when they ship Mexico with another country.
WARNINGS AND NOTES BEFORE WE START:
- This post is for both, Hetalia and Countryhumans fans. I clarify that in this blog we don´t discuss which one is better than the other, we enjoy the healthy part and avoid the toxic part.
- This is just for fun, and IT SHOULD NOT BE TAKEN SERIOUSLY. Think of it as a horoscope, you can share some of the facts, maybe not. The main purpose is to have some fun.
- We are aware that not all the ships will be here, or that not all of them will have the same extension. We tried to gather all we could.
- This is an extra warning for the English translation: This post may contain a lot of mexican and latin american modern references. Also, the best known historical periods are going to be mentioned, so if you are not familiar with the history of Mexico, we invite you to watch this video, and to consult other articles and media.
Without further due, let´s begin:
what are your fondest memories with each other? with france and canada?
Mexico: “any moment spending time with Francis is the best memories to have!”
Norte: “hm…looking up at the night sky is probably my favorite memory”
(Plus I would like to announce that me and @asknorthamerica have agreed to ship our muses Norte and Canada together canononly!))
I freaking love how I drew this >/////<