(Yo yo yo what up mah peeps? FemAmerica cosplayer GoldenNekoLover14 here once again to entertain~ I know it's been a while since I wrote a decent fic so I'll make this one LONG AND PAINFUL… lol just kidding XD But if you want update dates sooner than later friend me on facebook~ You'll find me under Ludwig SparklyParty Beilschmit ~ The profile pic is of Germany Italy and Japan sleeping together and dreaming their various dreams, which is hilarious because Germany's dream is pixeled out XD And other than just dates you can roleplay with me and see my cosplay profile once I get posting pics. Anyway this story is about how America finds himself in desperate need of some friends, then other stuff happens and I can't spill it all yet because if I did you'd have no reason to read it, so enjoy~ And keep chillin' mah peeps~)
P.S. Anyone who actually took the time to read my A/N gets virtual twenty bucks XD and a cookie~
Disclaimer: I do not own Hetalia or its characters, but it'd be fuckin awesome if I did!~ Country names used because I don't know most of their human names.
"We need to stop this issue, it's unjust and inhumane!"
"Calm down America, no need to be a wanker tis'morning."
"I'm serious Britain; Saudi Arabia's countrywomen are poorly treated and have no rights. We should invade it and make him stop this sick twisted ritual."
"When I zhink of ritual I zhink of Englan's demon summoning."
"NO ONE ASKED YOU FRANCE SO WOULD YOU JUST BUTT OUT?!"
And thus, the two of them begin the harsh cycle of beating the shit out of each other. America stared dumbfounded at the two as the noise level in the room increased, the other countries attempting to voice their opinions over the sounds of cussing, punches and dirty havoc.
"They do this every week…"
"Carm down China, maybe they wirr stop?"
"I don't think they will anytime soon Japan. After all, they are at it all the time."
"I think we should feed them PASTA! Pasta is feel-good food! So we will make them pasta Russia!"
And in no time, Italy was bouncing up and down in his chair, throwing pasta ingredients onto the table in front of China, Japan and Russia, trying to get the three of them to help him make it, but stopping when Russia grabbed his special strand of hair and yanked it right out of his head. China had been clawing away at the table due to the fact that the only thing coming out of Japan's mouth was "Culture" and various things of the sort.
And then there was Germany.
His face had turned a bright mixture of blue and red, eyes clenched shut as to shut out the scene before him, but his ears hadn't been so lucky. He was clearly sick of it, but was trying his best to not lash out on the other countries, as he had promised Italy he would try to control his anger. And then he felt himself unable to hold it back anymore, and like a cannon, he fired.
"VILL YOU ALL JUST SHUT UP FOR A CHANGE AND AT LEAST PRETEND TO BE CIVILIZED?! IF THIS KEEPS UP NOZING VILL GET DONE AND IT VILL HAVE BEEN A VASTE OF OUR TIME! I VILL NOT TOLERATE ZIS SHIT ANYMORE!"
The room went silent. Britain and France slowly made their way back to their chairs without another fist thrown. Italy packed away his ingredients for pasta and almost started crying softly. Russia handed Italy back his hair, even though it more than likely wouldn't do anything now. Japan sat back, looking down to his lap with an ashamed look on his face. China pulled the individual splinters of the wooden table from his hands and sat them down on the table. And America stood still at the podium, watching with a shocked look on his face as Germany made his way over to him.
Germany, now towering over the American, spoke lightly but sternly.
"Sit down."
America gulped out of fear of the bigger country, and fell down in his chair.
Something had been different about this meeting. Almost no one listened to Germany unless he said something right before leaving. So why was this time different? It was probably because he swore this time.
"Now, vat are you all planning on doing about zis issue?"
Not a single person dared speak out of turn; in fact, they all raised their hands instead as to not piss off the German any more than he already was.
A hand came up in the very back, not the hand of one of the allies or the axis powers. In fact, no one knew who he was until Germany gave him permission to speak.
"I think we should take over Saudi Arabia and impose our beliefs on them."
"Who are you?"
"I'm Canada."
His voice was soft, so soft that he could barely be heard, even with the noise level at negative zero. The other countries watched him with content looks on their faces, seeing as though the misunderstood, quiet and meek country was the only one brave enough to raise his hand and speak.
"I see. And does anyvone else have somezing to say?"
Everyone looked around at eachother, and not a single other hand was raised.
"Good. Ve vill go through with your plan Canada."
The meeting was now over. Everyone had left, whispering fondly about Canada and rudely of Germany. Well, everyone had left except for America. He sat in his seat in the meeting hall, holding a hand to his head in uttermost confusion. No one would listen to him today. Weren't they his friends? He wasn't sure why he'd ask himself that, of course they were his friends.
On his way home, he stopped at McDonald's for a burger, since that was the food that made him feel better in situations like this. But for some reason, he was in no mood. He sat the bag down in the passenger side of his car, and with a rather dramatic sigh, he drove the rest of the way home.
Something about knowing his brother would be there when he got there made him feel somewhat better. Canada had this way of sensing when America was feeling down, so he would come over, share a few passionate kisses with him, tell him everything would be alright, and America would sleep in his arms.
It was nothing more than a brotherly love they had when they were together, but something in the back of America's mind told him that he wanted Canada to be more than his brother. And after all they'd been through, one would think that he would've made his move on the Canadian, but he still didn't tell him how he really felt.
He pulled into the driveway, headlights off, and shut down the car. He picked up the bag and walked inside, setting it down on the counter and smiling sadly once he saw his brother sitting on the couch in the living room.
"Bad day ay?"
"Yeah, very."
He sat down next to him and felt Canada's arms wrap around him gently.
"Want me to do anything about it?"
America's smile brightened a little.
"Yes please."
And almost as soon as Canada placed his lips on America's, he felt like everything would be better the next day.
But it wouldn't be.
(A/N: Okay guys, first chapter down, second to come soon. I'm in summer school right now so I have plenty of time to write these fics. I hope you guys liked it and sorry for it being so long and painful and that it took forever to actually get started. Please review, follow, favorite, or whatever you feel like doing. Just keep chillin'~)