“England, your breath is horrible. How much did you actually drink?” Was all America asked, pulling England along down an empty, small little hallway.
“No more’n ‘nyone else,” he said, amongst the noise of the extremely crowded pub. “Why’vn’-why’vn’t you’d ‘nyffink t’drink? Yeh’ve all…. All th’reason t’be!”
“I have no idea what you’re saying.”
“’Merica…! You were the hero! Jus’ like y’always wan’ed t’be! Y’happy, now? Y’saved all’ov’Urope
( ... )
[PART 14] Love is Somewhere Between Sleep and Consciousness (8/??)
anonymous
December 9 2010, 00:01:41 UTC
Soooo. I am an AWESOME procrastinator! At least, when it comes to doing the responsible thing, like my homework. /cough Anyway. Wrote this up and I hope it's not nearly as bombarded with grammatical slips and mess-ups as the last parts were. oops. But yeah. Hope you enjoy! And uh, obviously this is not the end! So uh. Don't worry. Yeahhh.... Okay!
***
England had a rough night. He hadn't bothered to go through the usual getting-ready-for-bed rituals and used that excuse to take an extra-long shower. Nice and hot. He needed the assurance that the steam may have fogged some of his memories away-to no avail-and to get the possibly infectious stench of that woman off of his skin. England had awoken to the smell of some woman's perfume on his clothing, mixed in with America's cologne. While the scent from America didn't bother him, having the perfume cling to him was another story entirely. He threw the infected clothing into the hamper and hurriedly rushed into the shower
( ... )
[PART 14] Love is Somewhere Between Sleep and Consciousness (9/??)
anonymous
December 9 2010, 00:02:12 UTC
America stood there, covered in flour and smudges of chocolate, dressed in England’s apron which, to England’s immense amusement, was clearly too small for the larger nation. England grinned, leaning against the door jamb and watched for a few minutes as America went back and forth along the counter. He was singing lightly to himself-some new country track, he supposed, dancing as he moved.
“I do so hope that you plan on cleaning all of this up,” England said, announcing his presence and affixing a scowl on his face. “I spent three hours on my hands and knees scrubbing just the floor.”
America turned sharply, shocked at being caught but then smiled at England’s grumpy frown. “Not at all but I am making chocolate chip pancakes!”
“Is that what this is?” he asked, quirking a thick eyebrow. “That’s funny-my kitchen resembles the Western Front, not a café.” He suppressed a shiver from the memories that dredged up. It looked like America had done the same
( ... )
[PART 14] Love is Somewhere Between Sleep and Consciousness (10/??)
anonymous
December 9 2010, 00:02:34 UTC
“So you would be here for Christmas and New Year’s?” He took a dainty sip of his tea to force his lips from curving happily. “I can’t imagine why on Earth you would have no responsibilities and wouldn’t you miss watching the Ball drop in New York?”
“Eh, I’ve seen it a thousand times. And my people have it pretty much down pat.”
Do not grin. Do not smile. No happiness is to be shown. No pain, no gain! He drank the rest of his cup, turning to refill it and America flipped the pancakes. They did smell good
( ... )
[PART 14] Love is Somewhere Between Sleep and Consciousness (11/??)
anonymous
December 9 2010, 00:02:56 UTC
“Mr. Kirkland! Hello. This is Alice. What can I do for you today?”
“Would you please inform Their Majesties that I will be late for today’s rendezvous?”
“Rendezvous…. At two? I don’t see your name on this list….”
“…No, at 10, in 45 minutes.”
There was ruffling and furious typing on Alice’s end. “I’m sorry, Mr. Kirkland, there are no plans for 10:00. The only place I find your name is on yesterday evening’s list.”
“…Yesterday? Yesterday evening?”
“Yes, at 7:00 in the evening there was a small party to which you’d been invited and RSVP’d.”
Yesterday evening at 7:00 PM. England looked at America with suspicious anger.
“I see,” he said. “In that case, send my deepest and greatest condolences to Their Majesties and Miss Middleton. Goodbye.”
“Goodb-”England hung up the phone and when he heard it touch the counter and turned on America. “It’s your fault!” he hissed
( ... )
[PART 14] Love is Somewhere Between Sleep and Consciousness (12/??)
anonymous
December 9 2010, 00:03:19 UTC
He stopped his tirade, breathing and refusing to think about anything he’d said. He could not take anything back. He took a deeper breath and said, much more quietly, “Get out of my house, America.”
He didn’t notice how wide America’s eyes became. “But England, I-!”
“No.”
“You don’t understand! England! I said and did-”
“GET OUT!” England roared over America’s explanation. He didn’t want any kind of excuse. He lifted his arm, pointing a finger towards the foyer. “I cannot stand to look at you, or be anywhere near you right now. Leave.”
He wasn’t going to give in.
“Can I-”
“No. Go.”
England turned towards the kitchen to pick up the mess America had so wonderfully left him with. He couldn’t bear to look at America or look into his eyes-he just knew that if he allowed himself to turn he would give in and he just couldn’t allow himself to be walked on like that. It was not in his reputation and he was not going to allow some trifling thing like love interfere with that
( ... )
Re: [PART 14] Love is Somewhere Between Sleep and Consciousness (12/??)
anonymous
December 9 2010, 00:46:05 UTC
I cheered when England hit America. I actually did. This update is awesome and this story is simply wonderful.
One suggestion, though: maybe you can use the British spelling when you are inside of England's head? Like, when England thinks "No-England, all he did was get this ready. It’s nothing to color over!" maybe you can use "colour", instead.
I'm sorry if I'm out of place, I just thought it may be useful.
Re: [PART 14] Love is Somewhere Between Sleep and Consciousness (12/??)
anonymous
December 10 2010, 04:33:49 UTC
I realise that people may be leaping upon my throat as soon as I post this, but I feel that England and America have gotten too out of character here. I am definitely a USUK fangirl, but I simply cannot stomach how widely out of character they have gotten. This is especially jarring considering how much I enjoyed the first part(s) that you filled here. I suppose what I am is disappointed at how what could have been a great fill is turning out to be a mediocre, and perhaps unintentionally crack-filled*, one.
*especially with regards to calling tea Life Juice - Britons may call it this as a form of expressing British sarcastic humour, but no one calls it this in their heads - at least, not any sane person that I know of
Totally not flaming :Db
anonymous
December 10 2010, 05:02:25 UTC
But it's not really constructive criticism unless you give Author!anon some examples of what you think is OOC and why. (And how you think it should be, probably?)
Wait, why can't they say sarcastic shit like that in their heads? Or think it seriously, for that matter? Okay, I think of my coffee pot as "the Provider of Holy Caffeine," so I'm a little biased. XD
***
May 08, 1945
“England, your breath is horrible. How much did you actually drink?” Was all America asked, pulling England along down an empty, small little hallway.
“No more’n ‘nyone else,” he said, amongst the noise of the extremely crowded pub. “Why’vn’-why’vn’t you’d ‘nyffink t’drink? Yeh’ve all…. All th’reason t’be!”
“I have no idea what you’re saying.”
“’Merica…! You were the hero! Jus’ like y’always wan’ed t’be! Y’happy, now? Y’saved all’ov’Urope ( ... )
Reply
so sweet~
yet sad
i'll be following this.
thank you~ ^^
Reply
alskf I am so excited you're following the story! Thank you so so much!!!!
Reply
***
England had a rough night. He hadn't bothered to go through the usual getting-ready-for-bed rituals and used that excuse to take an extra-long shower. Nice and hot. He needed the assurance that the steam may have fogged some of his memories away-to no avail-and to get the possibly infectious stench of that woman off of his skin. England had awoken to the smell of some woman's perfume on his clothing, mixed in with America's cologne. While the scent from America didn't bother him, having the perfume cling to him was another story entirely. He threw the infected clothing into the hamper and hurriedly rushed into the shower ( ... )
Reply
“I do so hope that you plan on cleaning all of this up,” England said, announcing his presence and affixing a scowl on his face. “I spent three hours on my hands and knees scrubbing just the floor.”
America turned sharply, shocked at being caught but then smiled at England’s grumpy frown. “Not at all but I am making chocolate chip pancakes!”
“Is that what this is?” he asked, quirking a thick eyebrow. “That’s funny-my kitchen resembles the Western Front, not a café.” He suppressed a shiver from the memories that dredged up. It looked like America had done the same ( ... )
Reply
“Eh, I’ve seen it a thousand times. And my people have it pretty much down pat.”
Do not grin. Do not smile. No happiness is to be shown. No pain, no gain! He drank the rest of his cup, turning to refill it and America flipped the pancakes. They did smell good ( ... )
Reply
“Would you please inform Their Majesties that I will be late for today’s rendezvous?”
“Rendezvous…. At two? I don’t see your name on this list….”
“…No, at 10, in 45 minutes.”
There was ruffling and furious typing on Alice’s end. “I’m sorry, Mr. Kirkland, there are no plans for 10:00. The only place I find your name is on yesterday evening’s list.”
“…Yesterday? Yesterday evening?”
“Yes, at 7:00 in the evening there was a small party to which you’d been invited and RSVP’d.”
Yesterday evening at 7:00 PM. England looked at America with suspicious anger.
“I see,” he said. “In that case, send my deepest and greatest condolences to Their Majesties and Miss Middleton. Goodbye.”
“Goodb-”England hung up the phone and when he heard it touch the counter and turned on America. “It’s your fault!” he hissed ( ... )
Reply
He didn’t notice how wide America’s eyes became. “But England, I-!”
“No.”
“You don’t understand! England! I said and did-”
“GET OUT!” England roared over America’s explanation. He didn’t want any kind of excuse. He lifted his arm, pointing a finger towards the foyer. “I cannot stand to look at you, or be anywhere near you right now. Leave.”
He wasn’t going to give in.
“Can I-”
“No. Go.”
England turned towards the kitchen to pick up the mess America had so wonderfully left him with. He couldn’t bear to look at America or look into his eyes-he just knew that if he allowed himself to turn he would give in and he just couldn’t allow himself to be walked on like that. It was not in his reputation and he was not going to allow some trifling thing like love interfere with that ( ... )
Reply
One suggestion, though: maybe you can use the British spelling when you are inside of England's head? Like, when England thinks "No-England, all he did was get this ready. It’s nothing to color over!" maybe you can use "colour", instead.
I'm sorry if I'm out of place, I just thought it may be useful.
Reply
I was actually thinking about the spellings and thinking of it now, I don't even know why I didn't. Thank you, anon! I shall incorporate this. :]
Reply
I really loved this update writer!anon~ I feel bad for England most of all but dang, these two boys really need to stop beating around the bush. XD
Reply
Lmfao yeahhh.... They're uh. Kinda dense, sometimes. Methinks they'll start comin' around pretty soon. :) <3
Reply
But, ouch! I really feel bad for the both of them right now, especially Arthur. :c
Reply
Aww--yeah, Arthur's just kinda ... sick of all this uncertainty. Nation or not, 65 years is a reallly long time. :'(
Reply
*especially with regards to calling tea Life Juice - Britons may call it this as a form of expressing British sarcastic humour, but no one calls it this in their heads - at least, not any sane person that I know of
Reply
Wait, why can't they say sarcastic shit like that in their heads? Or think it seriously, for that matter? Okay, I think of my coffee pot as "the Provider of Holy Caffeine," so I'm a little biased. XD
Reply
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