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Well, hello, there. Sorry about the wait, we’ve been trying to find you guys fanfics that are quite worth reviewing on this blog. I believe we’ve found the one WTF enough.
Please do remember that this blog is not only for ‘bad’ fanfics. We’re called ‘WTF Hetalia fanfiction’. However, bad writing and what-the-fuckery seem to go hand in hand.
This fanfic… Well, let’s just get started.
Authors Notes: I own nothing. I’ve wanted to write this fic for a long time now, because I feel like there aren’t enough of these.
Trust me. There are.
America had been getting chubby lately, but it didn’t mean that everyone had to point it out like they did. America owned a mirror, and he could see it was getting out of hand. For everyone to constantly tease him about it was just cruel.
Ugh, and from the first paragraph, we’re already questioning what the hell is going on. Firstly, is there any reason WHY America has been gaining so much weight recently? I mean, it’s canon that he eats A LOT. But he’s pretty slim any way. There’s a few theories on why this is the case (Having a super high mentabolism, ect.), but him having a large apetite is a part of his character. Is his mentabolism slowing down? Are you representing something going on in the country by making him suddenly become chubby?
EXPLAIN, AUTHOR! EXPLAIN!
Well not everyone teased him about it, it was mostly just the allied nations. Japan was way too polite to say anything about it, which America was grateful for, and Germany and Italy didn’t really care to say anything. America guessed they figured it was none of their business, which it wasn’t. The people who mentioned it the most, were the people who he loved the most.
You’re implying that there’s a multiple amount of people he ‘loves’. The only one I can really guess here is England (Not because this is a USUK fic, but because of their history), but then again, at the moment, he wouldn’t even admit to caring about England’s opinion. I can’t really see him giving a shit about anyone else. So… Why would you make that a plural? WHY WOULD YOU MENTION IT AT ALL?
At world meetings, when it was America’s turn to talk someone always brought up his weight issue. Usually it was France or England, and sometimes even China. They brought it up in the disguise of concern for the young nations health, but it always quickly escalated to insults.
And America gives a shit about what everyone else is saying because…?
America was in his own personal hell, when he woke up the morning of a world meeting. It was his turn to host, which gave the other countries every opportunity to take a jab at his chubbiness.
Hey, America.. I think I have a suggestion for you.
IF YOU’RE SO GODDAMN BOTHERED BY IT, LOSE THE FUCKING WEIGHT. OR, I DON’T KNOW, JUST DON’T LISTEN TO THEM? If it’s really that big of a problem, he would just go and see a bloody professional! It’s not that big of a deal!
Slowly, getting out of bed, he reached for his glasses and reluctantly slid this onto his chubby face. He desperately wanted to skip it, but that would be impossible because they were in his country.
Okay, I understand the writer for trying to add complexity to America’s weight problem by making him insecure. But trust me, it’s hardly developed. There’s NO backstory to it, NO DEVELOPMENT, no nothing! For some reason, in the fanfic, Alfred is suddenly as insecure as a bloody teenage girl! I’m sorry, but out of all the countries, the one that I’d least expect to be so insecure is AMERICA. Maybe, with a bit of development on HOW he got to this stage, I’d find it understandable. I could possibly even relate to his conflict.
Because of the lack of development, we are presented with an Alfred WHO IS SIMPLY OOC. That, along with the FUCKING CREEPY CHUBBY-CHASER ARTHUR (which we will get to, SOON), is the BIGGEST problem with this fic.
Putting on his clothes were a nightmare. His khaki’s were tight, and his white button up shirt would barely do their job and button.
If they’re so tight, why don’t you just get some new clothes, you bloody idiot?!
Skipping breakfast, he headed out the door and hailed a taxi cab. It was time to go to the circus, and put on a show as the only freak.
Skipping breakfast is not a good way to lose weight, dipshit.
Neither is getting no excercise.
No, seriously, I’ve read the whole fanfic up to date, and in NONE OF THE CHAPTERS SO FAR does Alfred get any excercise! Nor does he TRY to actually lose weight!
…I think I can see why he’s so fat.
In the taxi their words echoed through his head.
You’re so fat America!
Someone is eating too many burgers!
…That one is pretty true, though.
Isn’t that American sociolect?
…Which of the countries is yelling that at him?!
You’re such a pig!
Shaking his head to get rid of the hurtful thoughts, he looked at the taxi driver in the rear view mirror, “How are you doing?” the driver asked raising his eyebrows
“Living the dream,” America replied, his voice dripping with sarcasm.
The cab driver laughed as he braked in front of the conference building, “Have a good day!”
“Thanks, you too!” he yelled running into the building.
Once he arrived in the conference room, he noticed that he and England were the first to arrive. England had gotten there before him and was doodling on the black board like he always did. America was silent as he sat down in his chair. Pulling his brief case into his lap, he opened it and took out a burger he had stashed inside just in case he got hungry. Deciding to eat the burger before the rest of the nations arrived, he took a large bite.
Who the fuck eats a hamburger for-
Oh, right. America.
Savoring the taste as he chewed, he didn’t notice England staring at him with a strange look on his face, “Aren’t you fat enough America?” he said, unsure of his words.
…I’ll agree with England here. If you find yourself so fat, and have a problem with it…
Why don’t you try and substitute the fucking burgers?
The young nation looked from England to his burger, and tossed the meal into the trash, spitting out the bite he had just took into a napkin. Hunger pains brought tears to his eyes, but he decided in favor of forcing them down to prove a point to the Brit.
And what point is THAT? No, seriously, what is he trying to prove? O_o
For a slit second, a flash of guilt appeared on England’s face, “Hey, America I didn’t me-“
Then why did you say it, dipshit?
His words were interrupted by several other nations walking into the room. Popping some gum into his mouth to hide the smell of the burger and hold him over until lunch time, America looked at England, “Were you going to say something?”
The other nations were staring at the two, smirks plastered on a couple of their faces. England looked at them and swallowed his apology in favor of following the crowd, “No, you burger eating git!” he said making America’s empty stomach clench in sadness.
OOOH, MY STOMACH! IT CLENCHES IN SADNESS!
Sitting down in his seat next to America, England’s own stomach clenched, but not in sadness, in guilt. As the meeting progressed, America’s stomach began to growl louder and louder. And with each growl, the more guilt England felt.
…England can hear it?
…Oh God, best mental image. So, there’s the world confrence, and everyone’s sitting down…
And suddenly America’s stomach starts being all GROWLY AS FUCK AND RUMBLING AND ALL THE COUNTRIES ARE LOOKING AT HIM LIKE “LOLWTF?”
I found it funny.
Why did he listen to me? Why does he care what I say? Has he been eating at all? Maybe I just stopped him from eating the only meal he’ll eat today! England thought, looking at his lap in shame. Maybe I should invite him for lunch…
“Hey America, do you want to go to lunch with me later?” he asked hoping the depressed American would say yes.
America looked at the Brit with his eyebrows knit together, “No thanks, I’m not hungry.”
He’s lying, I can hear his stomach growling! England thought scooting closer to America.
In reality, England actually liked watching America eat.
He was a closet nurturer, and he always worried about America’s diet. He was like those grandmothers who wanted to do nothing more than stuff their grandchildren until they were nice, plump, and healthy looking. Not to mention he thought watching America eat was completely sexy.
I just gagged a bit.
Of course, he couldn’t let the other nations know that. He’d be made into a pariah just like America.
“Oh come now, we can’t share a nice meal together?” England whispered, feeling the guilt eat away at his insides.
Don’t let him watch you eat, America! He’ll probably get aroused!
“No thanks dude, really… I’ve completely lost me appetite” he whispered, lying to his former care giver. Obviously, he was very hungry, but he couldn’t stand the looks of disgust people gave him when he ate, especially England’s.
Putting a hand on America’s knee, England looked to the front of the room where Germany was currently giving a lecture.
“Why are you touching me up, England?” Said America.
Suddenly, Germany said that it was America’s turn to speak. Looking at the other nations smirking faces, he knew the humiliation his former colony was about to face.
What humiliation? He’s just gotta talk.
“Recess!” he shouted, wanting save the American from humiliation.
More American sociolect. England wouldn’t say ‘recess’. Probably break, or time-out, or something like that.
Every nation looked at England like he had just slapped them in the face, for taking away their fun.
WHAT BLOODY FUN?!
“We’ve been sitting for a long time, and I desperately need to stretch my legs.” he explained to the German in charge.
Germany looked from America to England, understanding what the Englishmen was getting at, “Ja, we’ll go to lunch now. Everyone be back here in an hour and thirty minutes.”
…That’s a BLOODY LONG LUNCH BREAK. SWEET FUCKING JESUS.
Everyone stood up from their respective chairs and left the room, eager to eat lunch. All except America and England of course.
“Come on, love. I know you’re hungry, I could hear your tummy rumbling all through the meeting.”
America shook his head, “No, my stomach is just upset.” he lied again.
“America, please come with me, I’m sorry about what I said before.”
England, I know you want to watch America stuff his face for your pleasure, but he’s saying NO. You’re getting creepy ;A;
“Oh please, if you were really sorry you would have apologized in front of everyone, instead of making this feeble attempt to help yourself sleep better at night. I don’t want you feeling sorry for me England, and I damn sure don’t want to be your charity case!” America scolded, making a few left over nations gawk at them.
“No, poppet, it’s not like that at all! I just want to spend time with you!” England explained, truly wanting to make it up to the insecure nation.
…DID ENGLAND JUST SAY ‘POPPET’?
OH GOD, IT MUST BE 2P IN DISGUISE! D8
“This is probably some trick to make me look like an idiot in public, so no thank you England! I refuse to be the butt of your joke!”
As the American began walking away, England followed him. The young nation reminded him when he was a little boy and got mad at England and stomped off somewhere in a huff. At that point he would offer the boy a sweet to make up for it, but he had a feeling that right now it wasn’t going to work.
“America… if you come back, I’ll get you an ice cream cone…” he tempted the young man who was now walking down a sidewalk in New York.
“Shut up England!” he yelled thinking the Brit was taking another jab at his weight.
“No, America I didn’t mean it that way!”
Taking refuge inside a nearby Starbucks, America sat down at a table ready to start bawling. Deciding it wouldn’t hurt to get a latte, he stood up and fought back his tears as he glided up to the counter.
“Can I get a grande vanilla latte please?” he said taking out his credit card.
Sweet jesus, that’s a lot of calories.
As America started paying, England walked into the Starbucks, and got behind him, sneaking his hand into the American’s
HE’S TOUCHING YOU UP AGAIN. RUN, ALFRED, RUN!
“England! I thought I got rid of you!”
“Are we eating here? There’s not much to choose from, but I guess if you want to, we can.” he said ignoring the others protest.
“England, I told you I didn’t want your pity, go eat with France or something.”
Scrunching up his nose in disgust, “I don’t like France, you know that.”
“I’m not going to eat in front of you, and have you make fun of me again!”
Good choice. He might try to jack off while watching you.
The cashier was looking between them, with tears in her eyes. She was a lot more chubby than America, and knew his pain,
Erm, what pain? Am I missing something here?
America just told England to bugger off because he didn’t like people watching him eat. He didn’t say WHY, so what is this random fat cashier relating this to?! WHAT IS GOING ON?!
“Arthur, you’re making the cashier upset! Go sit down, I’ll order for you!” he shouted giving in just to make England go sit down.
Well, it’s not Arthur’s fault that the cashier is so damn unprofessional.
“I’m sorry we upset you.” England apologized to the girl, hating to see women cry whether they were big or small.
“It’s okay… Can I take your order?” she said wiping her tears away.
I hope you get fired.
“Tea, two sandwiches, and a cupcake, please?” he ordered, thickening his accent in order to charm her.
Isn’t his accent already fairly thick? What, is he going to start going at full cockney?
Because that isn’t charming AT ALL.
She blushed and wrote down his order.
“Is that all?”
“Yes, thank you ducky.”
WHEN THE FUCK DID ENGLAND EVER SAY ‘DUCKY’ IN THE SERIES. IT ISN’T ANYWHERE NEAR ENGLISH SOCIOLECT OR SLANG. MAYBE ‘LOVE’ OR ‘SWEETIE’ OR SOMETHING. BUT WHAT THE FUCK IS ‘DUCKY’?! WHERE DID IT COME FROM?
Walking over to the counter where they would claim their order, America started looking around himself, paranoid that there would be a trap or prank waiting for him, “You must be hungry England, since you ordered two sandwiches and a cupcake.”
“I’m not eating them love, you are.”
I understand that Alfred is nearly a man (He’s nineteen. Still growing? I have no bloody clue.), but seriously? One sandwich I can barely finish! Ugh, thinking of having to stuff my face with TWO makes me feel bloody ill.
“I told you that I wasn’t hungry!”
“America, be a good boy and eat your lunch, it’s unhealthy to skip meals!”
“I said I didn’t want anything. We’re in a coffee shop England, because all I wanted was coffee. If I wanted a sandwich I would have gone to Subway!”
Before England could reply their order was brought to them. America only grabbed his coffee, while England grabbed his tea and other treats he would continue to beg America to eat.
Once they were seated, England continued to try to persuade America to eat, “America… please eat… this behavior is starting to scare me, poppet. I’m sorry about earlier, I just… I don’t know why I said it! Yes I do, it’s because I’m a big wanker… Please eat…”
“They all laugh at me…” America whispered, on the verge of tears once more.
“They’re not here now America…” he said sliding the food towards the starving American, feeling a pang of guilt in his chest.
America reluctantly took a sandwich into his hands, and unwrapped the plastic that was protecting it from germs and other parasites. Slowly, he took a small bite, causing England to blush and squirm in his seat.
I suddenly feel ALL DIRTY INSIDE.
God, I’m a perverted bugger, he thought watching America take a few more bites.
UGHHH I WANNA VOMIT.
Secretly, the Brit also loved the extra pounds America had recently put on. His chubby cheeks and slightly plump belly made England completely hot for the young man.
And don’t even get him started on his arse. That’s why he was always over compensating, by making fun of the plump nation.
I just vomited in my mouth.
“Eat more, America… You’re still so young and you need nourishment.”
“Dude, my bodies nineteen, I think I’m done with puberty.”
“Actually, young men still grow in their early twenties-” England was interrupted the site of three other nations walking into the Starbucks. It was France, Prussia, and Spain. France and Prussia were walking extremely fast to get to the now blushing American. Spain however was hot on their tails, trying to get them to stop whatever they were planning.
“Well hello Amerique. I see your eating again as always. Don’t you think you’ve had enough food for the day~” France teased. America bit his lip and looked at his lap.
“Shut it Frog, don’t you have something better to do?” England scolded, standing up from his chair.
“We just thought America could use a little strawberry shake.” Prussia said approaching the humiliated American.
America was fighting back tears as the ex nation poured the milkshake all over his head.
Had that been a slushie, I would have thought that Prussia had been watching too much glee. BUT WHY? WHAT IS GOING ON? WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT? BECAUSE HE’S FAT? Well, God, that’s a bit of an asshole move.
The entire cafe was looking at the nations in shock. Some were gasping and felt sorry for the pink covered nation, while others were laughing and pointing with no remorse at their own countries pain.
America just sat their for a moment, staring off into space. He couldn’t hear England curses at Prussia and France. He couldn’t hear Spain’s apologies and questions of ‘Are you all right, amigo?’ All he heard was the laughter, when suddenly he stood up, finally letting the tears fall freely, much to the four nations surprise.
Looking at England as if he had just killed his puppy, he cried, “How could you do this to me…?”
HOW COULD THIS HAPPEN TO MEEEE?
Without giving the shocked Brit time to explain himself, America ran out of the store, crying harder than he had ever cried before.
Before you ask, yes, I’m going to review the later chapters. Because they get even more FUCKING CREEPY and even more full of BULLSHIT.
I’m sorry, but WOW. Good God, for a fanfic written about a bunch of personified countries, I never thought it could get this unrealistic. America is now a whiny bitch, England… England is just FUCKING CREEPY, and the rest aren’t that much better.
If you’re going to write a fanfic like this, at least give it some backstory! Why is Alfred suddenly so overweight?! Why is he a whiny bitch about it? What caused him to become so out of character? Seriously! He just seems out of character, and that isn’t GOOD.