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Fresh past-part fills post HERE Comments and Suggestions go
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Please enjoy the fluff and humor I tried to put into this lovely story.
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He should have been used to it. For the love of all that was holy, Alfred should have been used to being around a drunk Arthur. They always went out to a bar at least once a week, damn it! So, why the hell does this surprise Alfred?!
“I can’ believe ya wen’ ta France of all nations!” the drunk Englishman slurred, gesturing wildly as Alfred calmly sat next to him, “E’en God damn Spain wouda been better than France. I though’ I raised ya right!”
In all honesty, Alfred wanted to die right there. Seriously, that was centuries ago! The young nation shook his head. What the hell? He may as well answer the damn question ( ... )
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After half-an-hour things started to get really awkward for Alfred.
“I still don’ see wha’ ye saw in bloody France,” Arthur spat, glaring at the younger nation, “I’s all yer bloody faul’ anyway.”
“The hell? What do you mean it’s my fault?” Alfred sputtered, once again offended by the drunken nation. The Englishman muttered darkly under his breath before replying.
“Wha’? Ye don’ mean ta say tha’ i’ isn’ yer faul’ I can’ go ta yer bloody birthday withou’ feelin’ depressed? Ye don’ mean ta say tha’ i’ isn’ yer faul I feel weird aroun’ ye?!” the American really wasn’t sure where the hell this was going now. Well, he figured it out just as soon as Arthur’s lips crashed against his own.
He tastes like alcohol…and tea. ( ... )
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He held the blond Briton closer to his body, almost possessively. It was way too damn comfortable to be legal. Alfred buried his face into Arthur’s hair, breathing in his scent. They had both meant what they had said; yet the American knew that his British companion would probably be in embarrassed denial ( ... )
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You got the drunk!Cockney accent PERFECT, and insane!anon knows this as she has a crazy British friend who reminds her of Arthur, and does indeed babble with a Cockney accent when drunk.
Insane!anon would liek your babies, please!
reCaptcha says: withhold beloved. How long have you been hiding those feelings, Arthur...?
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