So here's the beginning of my USxUK fanfiction, which sounds nerdy as all get out if you know what a fanfiction is (pretty self explanatory) and you know that US actually does mean America and UK actually does mean England. Yeah, I'm writing a story about two...countries. Okay, if you don't get it by now, you probably won't want to read it. I'll stop going on and just post the thing. It isn't edited yet. Or finished.
(Oh, sorry, a couple of notes beforehand: This is based on an event called the Trent Affair which is basically when the good ol' USA kinda stole one of England's mail ships during our civil war because there were some confederates on it and we didn't want them convincing England that they were a real country. So naturally England was pretty pissed that we kinda stole their ship without warning them.
And a seceshie is a secessionist, a confederate.)
(And there is swearing, England has a dirty mouth, so BE WARNED.)
“You stole my ship!”
England was already shouting as America opened the door.
“Had to,” America replied with most of his usual bluntness. “There were seceshies on it.”
He managed only a feeble grin. In fact, he looked bloody awful. His blue uniform - crisp and bright as his smile the last time England had seen him - was already getting frayed around the edges. After less than a year of war, too! But these kind of wars were the worst. Served him right, though. He’d lasted less than a hundred years on his own.
“And you’re supposed to be neutral here, right?” America added, only getting in about half of his usual lazy drawl that made England cringe. At least pronounce your words! But most the American South was now gone from America’s voice, along with the seven states that were trying so hard to get decent, well-aged Europe to recognize them. What was it about the New World and these upstart countries?! But that reminded him.
“What on earth is a se-sess-shee? And I can’t stay neutral if you’re going to just steal my ships, no matter who is on them,” England told America, shaking his finger at the boy – all, right, he was more like a man now. “That’s simply ridiculous!”
“What’s so ridiculous, huh?” America said insolently. But he sagged against the doorframe as he crossed his arms, and England knew exactly what he must be feeling like.
Naturally, that was no reason to let him off. No matter how much civil wars hurt, you couldn’t let them affect your judgment, and he told America so.
America snorted. “Judgement? That ain’t what wrong with me, old man. What’s wrong is –“
His loud, brash voice trailed off into an unintelligible mumble, and he pitched forward onto his knees. Oh bloody hell.
“America?” England said, bending down to look at him. He was positively gray. How ironic.
He snapped his fingers in front of America’s glasses, and his eyelids fluttered, but nothing else happened. To borrow America’s favorite phrase: fuck. He had no idea what would happen if a country was this sick. None of his three civil wars had made him faint. Even France’s Revolution hadn’t made him more than mildly ill, but then again, he was France, after all. Bloody fucking hell. What could he do?
With a lot more swearing, he managed to get America inside and close the door – when had the little boy that he could carry on his shoulders gotten so heavy? – but he wasn’t going any farther than that. Even America’s house was getting to be a mess, but no large surprises there. He was always so crude. Oh, stop getting distracted. At this rate he’s going to stay this way and then that annoying Confederacy will be the one you have to talk to. His accent is worse than America’s.
This is a sample post. I just want to see what this looks like when I type. That's all. Sorry if you started reading it. You can stop now. I'm just typing a lot to get a long paragraph. The quick brown fox jumped over the lazy red dog. qwertyuiopasdfghjklzxcvbnm. Lalala. Nobody is going to understand the title of my blog. Oh well. It makes me laugh. To myself. I'm such a nerd. I hope nobody understands the title of my blog. It would be kinda disturbing if they did. Don't worry, I'm not a commie or anything. That's all. I wonder if this will be a paragraphy thing.
