Some Older Kink Meme Stuff
I haven't posted these here yet have I? Let's remedy that.
Stop Sinking My Battleship!: For the prompt: England beats everyone at Risk while he's drunk.
Word Count: 1,182
“So, so guys, guys…what are we playing?”
“Ug, France, why did you invite England?”
“You know I never invite him, Spain, he always just shows up on his own.”
“We should invite China too…”
“Non, we agreed after last time China and America take this game too seriously…”
“Besides Russia, we already have six players.”
“Since when are we counting England?”
“Are those cards? *hic* You know I love Yahtzee.”
“He’s drunk too! You said there was no alcohol!”
“I just said there wasn’t any for you, Denmark.”
“Let’s start already so I can make you all kneel before my awesome!”
“But what about England?”
“Just another loser to be tossed aside in my conquest. He’ll be easy to take down now that he’s drunk, so you can use this as revenge for your Armada.”
“…I agree with Prussia, let’s start.”
“Alright! *hic* Where’s my queen?”
“This is Risk, Angleterre. I’m dealing out your cards now…”
“Sweet! I got Australia and the Philippines on the draw!”
“That’s not fair Denmark! That was my card!”
“Shut up Prussia, you still have half of Europe already…including me and England.”
“Cheer up Spain; everyone will become one with Russia in the end…”
“What’s wrong Angleterre? Not so cocky now that you’re split up across the globe?”
“Yeah, that’s probably the worst draw I’ve ever seen for this game.”
“*Hic* Just shut up and deal the cards! I’m a master at Rummy!”
“We’re playing Risk, stupid. I’m going first, because I’m awesome like that, and I’m invading the Philippines.”
“Just because I get a lucky hand…”
“This game is all about skill! Now roll the dice!”
“…”
“Sweet! Welcome to the new German Empire. I’ll end here.”
“Alright, England’s turn!”
“B-6.”
“We’re playing Risk…”
“I’ll attack France.”
“You’re not even in Europe, mon ami.”
“Never stopped me before. *hic* What about that…not America guy that speaks French? Is he here?”
“Well you do have Alaska, but you only have two armies there…”
“He already made his choice.”
“You just want Alaska for yourself, Russia.”
“Just shut up and bloody fight me wankers!”
“Where did you get that cutlass?"
“Says the guy who walks around with an axe. Anyway, that’s Spain’s territory.”
“…”
“Yes! King me!”
“We’re playing Risk…how did he take all of Canada in one turn?”
“Just a lucky shot, mon ami. My turn and I’m invading Russia.”
“Because that worked so well before…”
“It’s okay Denmark; I don’t mind seeing France lose to me again…”
“…”
“Damn it.”
“Told you…”
“Just go Russia.”
“Um…I’ll attack Alaska.”
“Angleterre that’s you.”
“Bingo!”
“We’re playing Risk! Just roll the damn dice already!”
“…”
“KOLKOLKOL.”
“I didn’t think it was possible to beat 25 armies with only one…”
“Doesn’t matter, just go Spain.”
“I’ll go after Brazil.”
“That’s England again…”
“I’ll *hic* take two. And they better not be anymore bloody spades.”
“This is Risk, England. Just roll the dice, and I don’t think you’ll need that drink anymore, so…”
“Denmark no. You’re a worse drunk then him. I’m rolling now.”
“…”
“Mierda.”
“This is getting embarrassing.”
“Denmark, go so I can kick your ass again.”
“Yeah right, I still have half my armies in Australia. You won’t be able to take me down so easily.”
“…”
“I can’t believe you took me down so easily.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. Many have fallen to my awesome in the past. Now, on your knees! Praise me!”
“Somebody go before Prussia’s ego takes a corporeal form…again.”
“England your turn.”
“You’re it.”
“We’re playing Risk!”
“I attack France!”
“You’re nowhere near him!”
“No, wait, I’m in America.”
“Oh, then okay. Roll the dice.”
“…”
“Merde.”
“He just conquered North America, again, in one turn. What’s in his drink…?”
“We said no Denmark. My turn and I’ll attack Russia.”
“Again? As your friend, I’m telling you to just let it go.”
“Non, I’ll win this time.”
“…”
“Damn it.”
“Since it’s my turn, I’ll attack Scandinavia.”
“Hey, stay away from them!”
“Relax Denmark, since I already obliterated you, I’ll defend them.”
“…”
“KOLKOLKOL.”
“Don’t mess with the best, Russia.”
“Oh hey is it my turn? I’ll attack the Middle East.”
“Isn’t Angleterre there too?”
“*Hic* Bring it on! I’ve got the ace of trump!”
“We’re playing Risk, and that’s a coaster.”
“…”
“As your friend, I’m telling you that you should just give it up too, Spain. My awesome turn and I’m going after Greenland.”
“Um, England…”
“I *hic* select rock!”
“Just roll the freaking dice!”
“…”
“Pft, I’ll get you next time.”
“You and what army? That’s *hic* right, you don’t-”
“Your turn Angleterre! You want to conquer South America now?”
“France, that’s my last territory!”
“*Hic* Draw your next pathetic card tosser, so I can end this duel!”
“Just roll and shut him up.”
“…”
“I think that means you’re out Spain.”
“Good riddance, you suck at hopscotch!”
“We’re playing Risk, dumbass!”
“Well, I’m going to-”
“Let’s just assume Russia beat you again and move to his turn.”
“You don’t know what I was going to do Denmark!”
“What were you going to do then?”
“…go Russia.”
“I’ll attack Japan.”
“But that’s England’s again…”
“He can’t win them all, right?”
“…”
“KOLKOL-”
“Yeah, yeah, we get it. My turn and I’m after Africa now!”
“Mon dieu, that’s one of my last territories!”
“All’s fair in kicking your ass!”
“I thought love was in there somewhere…”
“Shut up Spain.”
“…”
“And that makes three continents for me.”
“Now I’ve only got my India territory…”
“And I’ll *hic* sink your battleship!”
“We’re playing Risk, mon ami…”
“He is right next to you…”
“Sounds like a legit attack to me.”
“Just because you two are out doesn’t mean you can side with England.”
“Tally ho!”
“Don’t chuck the dice at my head!”
“…”
“Mr. Green, in the hall, with the revolver.”
“We’re playing Risk, and you just killed off France.”
“Same thing *hic*.”
“My turn then, yes?”
“Yeah, go ahead.”
“I’d like to take back Russia now.”
“Pft, like the awesome me would let you.”
“…”
“Чёрт!”
“And that’s a win for my new German Empire! On your knees peasant!”
“I’m *hic* attacking with my Marshall.”
“We’re playing Risk.”
“That one was actually pretty close.”
“Let’s go England, final showdown! German Empire versus British Empire! Winner drinks the rest of France’s beer.”
“England’s wasted enough as it is.”
“Spain, do you actually think I’m going to lose to a drunk England? He doesn’t even know what we’re playing.”
“He did beat the rest of us.”
“Well, Denmark, I’m far more awesome than you.”
“I’ll put a hotel on *hic* boardwalk now.”
“England, we’re playing Risk, now roll the dice so we can prove my awesome to everyone in the room.”
“…”
“Scheiße.”
“Go fish.”
“He beat you good.”
“He beat you good first!”
“I propose we don’t play with drunk England anymore.”
“Fantastique idea Spain. All in favor?”
“Not unless I can get drunk too.”
“Agree with Denmark, now hand me a beer!”
“Yeah, Spain’s idea is a good one.”
“Pfft. S’not my fault you bloody wankers don’t know how to play Scrabble.”
Author's Mini-note: All the foreign words mean 'shit.' France's gratuitous French should be simple enough to figure out by context yes?
Why Can't We Be Friends?: For the Winter Olympics themed prompt: Russia comforts Plushenko after the loss.
Word Count: 587
Russia was, of course, upset when the results were shown. No one could blame him though, since it was only one freaking point, so everyone just backed off as the large nation punched several holes in several walls, trashed the room set aside for them to watch the Olympics in, and cursed out everyone and everything in Russian.
After he had calmed down a bit, Russia realized this wasn’t where he needed to be, and set out to find Plushenko.
He found him about twenty minutes later sitting all by himself, trainers, coaches, and other team members long gone to give the man some peace and quiet. The media, Russian, American, and otherwise, was currently occupied elsewhere, so Russia took the opportunity to sit next to his skater.
Yevgeny didn’t react to the nation sitting down, choosing to spend a few more moments in silence before finally breaking it.
“I am sorry.”
“You have nothing to be ashamed of. Silver is…”
“It should be gold. They…how could he win without a quad?”
Russia shook his head. “He shouldn’t…but he did. I blame Canada, but you have done nothing wrong. You came back from three years of no skating and pulled off an amazing performance. You’ve made Russia proud…you’ve made me proud.”
Plushenko sighed and played with the silver medal in his hand, still not looking his nation in the eye. “It would have been nice…to remain undefeated.”
“Yes…being on top is quite nice. If it weren’t for those Americans bringing us down all the time…”
He managed to get a chuckle out of the skater. “Yes, especially when they cheat.”
“Hey! I did no such thing!” A rather loud voice shouted. The Russians looked over to find that America and Lysacek where standing there, the nation looking upset while the skater just looked awkward.
“Canada’s your brother. You clearly influenced the results.” Russia stated.
“I’m not China; I don’t need to cheat to win.”
“China never-”
“There’snowaythosegirlsweresixteen! Anyway, that’s not why I’m here.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Uh…” America uncharacteristically shuffled around awkwardly. “Well, Evan and me, well we just wanted to, um…”
“We just wanted to say good job,” Lysacek finished, extending a hand to the Russian skater. “And thank you. Really, I wouldn’t have skated as well as I did if you weren’t here.”
Plushenko stared at the hand for a bit before standing up and shaking it. “You are not so bad yourself.”
“Yeah, but seriously!” America clapped him on the back, forcing him back onto the bench, “you’re performance was so cool! I don’t think anyone on my team can pull off some of the stuff you did! I kinda see why Wier likes Russia so much after watching you…except not, because I’m still cooler.”
“Well, we should probably get going,” Lysacek nodded before grabbing America’s arm and dragging him away, but not before he shouted, “See you in 2014!”
“He is…quite a handful,” Plushenko commented as soon as the Americans were out of sight.
“Very, but still…2014…”
“I will be 31,” the skater sighed.
“It will be home, in Russia. Besides, it is not that old.”
Plushenko held his medal up to the light so that the silver sparkled and studied it, thinking about the others he had back home; his home, Russia, who was still proud of him, still backing him up.
“2014, huh?” A smile crept on his lips as thoughts of that second gold that might not be out of his reach yet entered his mind. “Count me in.”
Take Me or Leave Me: For the prompt: USUK with the song "Take Me or Leave Me" from RENT.
Word Count: 1,459
I should warn you, there is singing. Here's the movie version if you don't know the song. Some words were changed to fit the characters. And headcannon says that, because of Broadway, America can make random music appear out of nowhere. >_>
England sighed and stretched out. Germany had finally let them break after about five hours of what was basically bickering about global warming/economy/Poland’s skirt/whatever. At this point, all the British nation wanted to do was grab his lover and go get some lunch, but a quick look around the room showed that America was preoccupied talking with Lithuania.
No, not talking, flirting, he realized as he looked closer. The way America was laughing with him, touching him, standing far too close to him, the way Russia kept glaring at them…yes, it was definitely flirting.
Normally England wouldn’t mind it all that much; yes, they were together, but America was a rather ‘hands on’ nation, so England let it slide. At first. However he had witnessed almost the same scene (minus the glaring Russia) the day before with Japan, and the day before that with Italy, and the day before that with Cameroon of all people. This time something had to be done.
England walked over to the duo and coughed politely to get their attention. When America saw him, his face lit up and said, “Hey England!”
“Hello, Mr. England. How are you?” Lithuania asked.
“Peachy. Can I borrow this idiot for a minute?” Without waiting for a response, he grabbed America’s arm and dragged him to a secluded corner of the conference room.
“What’s up?” He asked, completely clueless.
“Just what do you think you’re doing?” England hissed.
“What do you mean?”
“I know you’re not that stupid. This flirting thing has to stop.”
“We were just talking.”
“Of course you were, you’re always ‘just talking’ to people, aren’t you?” England said with all the sarcasm he could muster. America, for once, managed to read it, and was not happy about it.
“Look Mr. Stuffy-pants, if I wanted to actually fool around with other people, then I wouldn’t be in a relationship with you, despite you trying to control everything.”
“That doesn’t give you the right to just flirt with everything that has legs! You’re not bloody France.”
“I can’t help it if they start it!”
England scoffed in a disbelieving manner and was determined not to meet America’s glare…that is, until the music started from nowhere. He could tell he wasn’t going crazy, because as soon as it began every nation in the room turned their eyes toward them.
“Every single day, I walk down the street,” America started singing, causing England’s eyes to widen and him to blush as every single nation was looking at them, but America didn’t seem to mind that.
“I hear people say ‘Baby,’ so sweet.
Ever since puberty, everybody stares at me.
Boys girls, I can’t help it, baby.”
England had enough and started walking away, only to have his lover follow him, still singing.
“So be kind, and don’t lose your mind.
Just remember that I’m your baby.”
He had managed to catch up to him and pulled the green-eyed nation into a pseudo waltz.
“Take me for what I am,
Who I was meant to be.
And if you give a damn,
Take me baby, or leave me.”
England broke away and continued walking towards the door on the other side of the room. Not giving up so easily, America jumped on the conference table.
“Take me baby, or leave me.”
This caused some of the nations like Canada and Japan to gasp openly as England did stop and turn around; horrified that he would go to such lengths.
“A tiger in a cage, can never see the sun,” he belted, taking off his jacket in the process.
“This hero needs his stage! Baby, let’s have fun!
You are the one I choose;
Folks would kill to fill your shoes!” He tossed his jacket at England, who reluctantly caught it and walked over, and as if standing on the table wasn’t enough, America was now on his knees.
“You love the limelight too, now baby.”
England smacked the jacket on the table and America had enough sense to climb down now, but, as if just to piss him off, started taking off his shirt, running away when England blushed and chased him down.
“So be mine, and don’t waste my time,
Crying, ‘oh honey bear, are you still my, my, my baby?’”
England gave up and made his way to the door again, this time actually making out outside before America (and all of the nations who found this amusing) followed him.
“Take me for what I am,
Who I was meant to be!
And if you give a damn,
Take me baby, or leave me.”
By this point England had started walking up the stairs leading to where their rooms were, but stopped to look back and regretted it when he saw America on his knees again.
“No way, can I be what I’m not,” he got up and spread his arms out wide.
“But hey, don’t you want your man hot?” America started climbing up the stairs to join England.
“Don’t fight, don’t lose your head,
‘Cause every night, who’s in your bed?” He quirked an eyebrow, “who?”
Now, to England’s utter horror, he was on his knees again. “Who’s in your bed?” America looked up at the Britain with those puppy-dog eyes he knew he couldn’t refuse. “Kiss Iggy…”
“It won’t work,” not to be outdone by the American, England joined in on the singing.
“I look before I leap,” he took one of America’s hands and helped him up, stepping down a few steps in the process.
“I love margins and discipline,
I make lists in my sleep, baby,
What’s my sin?
Never quit, I follow through,
I hate mess but I love you,
What to do with my impromptu baby?
So be wise, ‘cause this man satisfies,” he stepped up to the and leaned in close as if to demonstrate his point.
He stepped back, smirking, and took off his own jacket, “You got a prize, don’t compromise. You’re one lucky baby!” England turned away from his lover and spread his arms wide.
“Take me for what I am!”
“A control freak,” America added as England stormed off down the stairs again,
“Who I was meant to be!”
“A snob yet over attentive,” America continued to chase him down.
“And if you give a damn,”
“A loveable droll geek.”
“Take me baby, or leave me.”
“An anal retentive!”
They (and their mob following them, but neither seemed to mind at this point) had found themselves back in the conference room. England turned around to face America as they both sang.
“That’s it!”
“The straw that breaks my back,” England sang by himself.
“I quit!” They sang as England walked over to the other side of the table.
“Unless you take it back,” England stopped to sing, before continuing on his way.
“Men,” they both sang as America draped an arm around the Germany’s shoulder
“What is it about them?” He sang.
“Can’t live, with them or without them!” they belted as America went to stand on the opposite side of the table from England.
“That doesn’t make much sense,” France critiqued.
“Take me for what I am!” They sang as the smacked the table simultaneously.
“Who I was meant to be!” England sang as he moved around the table.
“Who I was meant to be!” America echoed, both in words and actions.
“And if you give a damn,” he jumped up on the table and crawled over to England, who sang,
“And if you give a damn, take me baby,”
“Take me baby,” America sang as he jumped off the table in front of his lover, “take me or la-la leave me!”
“Take me baby!” They belted, getting dangerously close to one another, “or leave me,” they backed off, heading for opposite doors.
“Guess I’m leaving,” they both said simultaneously, looking at each other’s eyes before shouting, “I’m gone!” and slamming both doors.
A silence permeated over the room, finally broken by (not surprisingly) Italy.
“Ve, I didn’t even know they were together. Did you Germany?” The blonde could only shake his head, still too shocked for words to form.
“Please tell me someone got that on tape!” Prussia shouted, “I, uh, want to use if for blackmail…”
“Don’t worry, Prussia-san,” Japan said, “I’ll send you a copy later.”
“Me too Japan!” Hungary, Korea, Canada, and Denmark cried out.
“Enough!” Germany shouted, coming out of his daze, “We still have business to conduct! Gossip on your own time.”
Everyone grumbled, but made their way back to their seats, making bets as to when, where, and for how long the makeup sex would occur. The current favorite was ten minutes from now, in the closet down the hall, lasting until the end of the meeting.
Stop Sinking My Battleship!: For the prompt: England beats everyone at Risk while he's drunk.
Word Count: 1,182
“So, so guys, guys…what are we playing?”
“Ug, France, why did you invite England?”
“You know I never invite him, Spain, he always just shows up on his own.”
“We should invite China too…”
“Non, we agreed after last time China and America take this game too seriously…”
“Besides Russia, we already have six players.”
“Since when are we counting England?”
“Are those cards? *hic* You know I love Yahtzee.”
“He’s drunk too! You said there was no alcohol!”
“I just said there wasn’t any for you, Denmark.”
“Let’s start already so I can make you all kneel before my awesome!”
“But what about England?”
“Just another loser to be tossed aside in my conquest. He’ll be easy to take down now that he’s drunk, so you can use this as revenge for your Armada.”
“…I agree with Prussia, let’s start.”
“Alright! *hic* Where’s my queen?”
“This is Risk, Angleterre. I’m dealing out your cards now…”
“Sweet! I got Australia and the Philippines on the draw!”
“That’s not fair Denmark! That was my card!”
“Shut up Prussia, you still have half of Europe already…including me and England.”
“Cheer up Spain; everyone will become one with Russia in the end…”
“What’s wrong Angleterre? Not so cocky now that you’re split up across the globe?”
“Yeah, that’s probably the worst draw I’ve ever seen for this game.”
“*Hic* Just shut up and deal the cards! I’m a master at Rummy!”
“We’re playing Risk, stupid. I’m going first, because I’m awesome like that, and I’m invading the Philippines.”
“Just because I get a lucky hand…”
“This game is all about skill! Now roll the dice!”
“…”
“Sweet! Welcome to the new German Empire. I’ll end here.”
“Alright, England’s turn!”
“B-6.”
“We’re playing Risk…”
“I’ll attack France.”
“You’re not even in Europe, mon ami.”
“Never stopped me before. *hic* What about that…not America guy that speaks French? Is he here?”
“Well you do have Alaska, but you only have two armies there…”
“He already made his choice.”
“You just want Alaska for yourself, Russia.”
“Just shut up and bloody fight me wankers!”
“Where did you get that cutlass?"
“Says the guy who walks around with an axe. Anyway, that’s Spain’s territory.”
“…”
“Yes! King me!”
“We’re playing Risk…how did he take all of Canada in one turn?”
“Just a lucky shot, mon ami. My turn and I’m invading Russia.”
“Because that worked so well before…”
“It’s okay Denmark; I don’t mind seeing France lose to me again…”
“…”
“Damn it.”
“Told you…”
“Just go Russia.”
“Um…I’ll attack Alaska.”
“Angleterre that’s you.”
“Bingo!”
“We’re playing Risk! Just roll the damn dice already!”
“…”
“KOLKOLKOL.”
“I didn’t think it was possible to beat 25 armies with only one…”
“Doesn’t matter, just go Spain.”
“I’ll go after Brazil.”
“That’s England again…”
“I’ll *hic* take two. And they better not be anymore bloody spades.”
“This is Risk, England. Just roll the dice, and I don’t think you’ll need that drink anymore, so…”
“Denmark no. You’re a worse drunk then him. I’m rolling now.”
“…”
“Mierda.”
“This is getting embarrassing.”
“Denmark, go so I can kick your ass again.”
“Yeah right, I still have half my armies in Australia. You won’t be able to take me down so easily.”
“…”
“I can’t believe you took me down so easily.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. Many have fallen to my awesome in the past. Now, on your knees! Praise me!”
“Somebody go before Prussia’s ego takes a corporeal form…again.”
“England your turn.”
“You’re it.”
“We’re playing Risk!”
“I attack France!”
“You’re nowhere near him!”
“No, wait, I’m in America.”
“Oh, then okay. Roll the dice.”
“…”
“Merde.”
“He just conquered North America, again, in one turn. What’s in his drink…?”
“We said no Denmark. My turn and I’ll attack Russia.”
“Again? As your friend, I’m telling you to just let it go.”
“Non, I’ll win this time.”
“…”
“Damn it.”
“Since it’s my turn, I’ll attack Scandinavia.”
“Hey, stay away from them!”
“Relax Denmark, since I already obliterated you, I’ll defend them.”
“…”
“KOLKOLKOL.”
“Don’t mess with the best, Russia.”
“Oh hey is it my turn? I’ll attack the Middle East.”
“Isn’t Angleterre there too?”
“*Hic* Bring it on! I’ve got the ace of trump!”
“We’re playing Risk, and that’s a coaster.”
“…”
“As your friend, I’m telling you that you should just give it up too, Spain. My awesome turn and I’m going after Greenland.”
“Um, England…”
“I *hic* select rock!”
“Just roll the freaking dice!”
“…”
“Pft, I’ll get you next time.”
“You and what army? That’s *hic* right, you don’t-”
“Your turn Angleterre! You want to conquer South America now?”
“France, that’s my last territory!”
“*Hic* Draw your next pathetic card tosser, so I can end this duel!”
“Just roll and shut him up.”
“…”
“I think that means you’re out Spain.”
“Good riddance, you suck at hopscotch!”
“We’re playing Risk, dumbass!”
“Well, I’m going to-”
“Let’s just assume Russia beat you again and move to his turn.”
“You don’t know what I was going to do Denmark!”
“What were you going to do then?”
“…go Russia.”
“I’ll attack Japan.”
“But that’s England’s again…”
“He can’t win them all, right?”
“…”
“KOLKOL-”
“Yeah, yeah, we get it. My turn and I’m after Africa now!”
“Mon dieu, that’s one of my last territories!”
“All’s fair in kicking your ass!”
“I thought love was in there somewhere…”
“Shut up Spain.”
“…”
“And that makes three continents for me.”
“Now I’ve only got my India territory…”
“And I’ll *hic* sink your battleship!”
“We’re playing Risk, mon ami…”
“He is right next to you…”
“Sounds like a legit attack to me.”
“Just because you two are out doesn’t mean you can side with England.”
“Tally ho!”
“Don’t chuck the dice at my head!”
“…”
“Mr. Green, in the hall, with the revolver.”
“We’re playing Risk, and you just killed off France.”
“Same thing *hic*.”
“My turn then, yes?”
“Yeah, go ahead.”
“I’d like to take back Russia now.”
“Pft, like the awesome me would let you.”
“…”
“Чёрт!”
“And that’s a win for my new German Empire! On your knees peasant!”
“I’m *hic* attacking with my Marshall.”
“We’re playing Risk.”
“That one was actually pretty close.”
“Let’s go England, final showdown! German Empire versus British Empire! Winner drinks the rest of France’s beer.”
“England’s wasted enough as it is.”
“Spain, do you actually think I’m going to lose to a drunk England? He doesn’t even know what we’re playing.”
“He did beat the rest of us.”
“Well, Denmark, I’m far more awesome than you.”
“I’ll put a hotel on *hic* boardwalk now.”
“England, we’re playing Risk, now roll the dice so we can prove my awesome to everyone in the room.”
“…”
“Scheiße.”
“Go fish.”
“He beat you good.”
“He beat you good first!”
“I propose we don’t play with drunk England anymore.”
“Fantastique idea Spain. All in favor?”
“Not unless I can get drunk too.”
“Agree with Denmark, now hand me a beer!”
“Yeah, Spain’s idea is a good one.”
“Pfft. S’not my fault you bloody wankers don’t know how to play Scrabble.”
Author's Mini-note: All the foreign words mean 'shit.' France's gratuitous French should be simple enough to figure out by context yes?
Why Can't We Be Friends?: For the Winter Olympics themed prompt: Russia comforts Plushenko after the loss.
Word Count: 587
Russia was, of course, upset when the results were shown. No one could blame him though, since it was only one freaking point, so everyone just backed off as the large nation punched several holes in several walls, trashed the room set aside for them to watch the Olympics in, and cursed out everyone and everything in Russian.
After he had calmed down a bit, Russia realized this wasn’t where he needed to be, and set out to find Plushenko.
He found him about twenty minutes later sitting all by himself, trainers, coaches, and other team members long gone to give the man some peace and quiet. The media, Russian, American, and otherwise, was currently occupied elsewhere, so Russia took the opportunity to sit next to his skater.
Yevgeny didn’t react to the nation sitting down, choosing to spend a few more moments in silence before finally breaking it.
“I am sorry.”
“You have nothing to be ashamed of. Silver is…”
“It should be gold. They…how could he win without a quad?”
Russia shook his head. “He shouldn’t…but he did. I blame Canada, but you have done nothing wrong. You came back from three years of no skating and pulled off an amazing performance. You’ve made Russia proud…you’ve made me proud.”
Plushenko sighed and played with the silver medal in his hand, still not looking his nation in the eye. “It would have been nice…to remain undefeated.”
“Yes…being on top is quite nice. If it weren’t for those Americans bringing us down all the time…”
He managed to get a chuckle out of the skater. “Yes, especially when they cheat.”
“Hey! I did no such thing!” A rather loud voice shouted. The Russians looked over to find that America and Lysacek where standing there, the nation looking upset while the skater just looked awkward.
“Canada’s your brother. You clearly influenced the results.” Russia stated.
“I’m not China; I don’t need to cheat to win.”
“China never-”
“There’snowaythosegirlsweresixteen! Anyway, that’s not why I’m here.”
“Then why are you here?”
“Uh…” America uncharacteristically shuffled around awkwardly. “Well, Evan and me, well we just wanted to, um…”
“We just wanted to say good job,” Lysacek finished, extending a hand to the Russian skater. “And thank you. Really, I wouldn’t have skated as well as I did if you weren’t here.”
Plushenko stared at the hand for a bit before standing up and shaking it. “You are not so bad yourself.”
“Yeah, but seriously!” America clapped him on the back, forcing him back onto the bench, “you’re performance was so cool! I don’t think anyone on my team can pull off some of the stuff you did! I kinda see why Wier likes Russia so much after watching you…except not, because I’m still cooler.”
“Well, we should probably get going,” Lysacek nodded before grabbing America’s arm and dragging him away, but not before he shouted, “See you in 2014!”
“He is…quite a handful,” Plushenko commented as soon as the Americans were out of sight.
“Very, but still…2014…”
“I will be 31,” the skater sighed.
“It will be home, in Russia. Besides, it is not that old.”
Plushenko held his medal up to the light so that the silver sparkled and studied it, thinking about the others he had back home; his home, Russia, who was still proud of him, still backing him up.
“2014, huh?” A smile crept on his lips as thoughts of that second gold that might not be out of his reach yet entered his mind. “Count me in.”
Take Me or Leave Me: For the prompt: USUK with the song "Take Me or Leave Me" from RENT.
Word Count: 1,459
I should warn you, there is singing. Here's the movie version if you don't know the song. Some words were changed to fit the characters. And headcannon says that, because of Broadway, America can make random music appear out of nowhere. >_>
England sighed and stretched out. Germany had finally let them break after about five hours of what was basically bickering about global warming/economy/Poland’s skirt/whatever. At this point, all the British nation wanted to do was grab his lover and go get some lunch, but a quick look around the room showed that America was preoccupied talking with Lithuania.
No, not talking, flirting, he realized as he looked closer. The way America was laughing with him, touching him, standing far too close to him, the way Russia kept glaring at them…yes, it was definitely flirting.
Normally England wouldn’t mind it all that much; yes, they were together, but America was a rather ‘hands on’ nation, so England let it slide. At first. However he had witnessed almost the same scene (minus the glaring Russia) the day before with Japan, and the day before that with Italy, and the day before that with Cameroon of all people. This time something had to be done.
England walked over to the duo and coughed politely to get their attention. When America saw him, his face lit up and said, “Hey England!”
“Hello, Mr. England. How are you?” Lithuania asked.
“Peachy. Can I borrow this idiot for a minute?” Without waiting for a response, he grabbed America’s arm and dragged him to a secluded corner of the conference room.
“What’s up?” He asked, completely clueless.
“Just what do you think you’re doing?” England hissed.
“What do you mean?”
“I know you’re not that stupid. This flirting thing has to stop.”
“We were just talking.”
“Of course you were, you’re always ‘just talking’ to people, aren’t you?” England said with all the sarcasm he could muster. America, for once, managed to read it, and was not happy about it.
“Look Mr. Stuffy-pants, if I wanted to actually fool around with other people, then I wouldn’t be in a relationship with you, despite you trying to control everything.”
“That doesn’t give you the right to just flirt with everything that has legs! You’re not bloody France.”
“I can’t help it if they start it!”
England scoffed in a disbelieving manner and was determined not to meet America’s glare…that is, until the music started from nowhere. He could tell he wasn’t going crazy, because as soon as it began every nation in the room turned their eyes toward them.
“Every single day, I walk down the street,” America started singing, causing England’s eyes to widen and him to blush as every single nation was looking at them, but America didn’t seem to mind that.
“I hear people say ‘Baby,’ so sweet.
Ever since puberty, everybody stares at me.
Boys girls, I can’t help it, baby.”
England had enough and started walking away, only to have his lover follow him, still singing.
“So be kind, and don’t lose your mind.
Just remember that I’m your baby.”
He had managed to catch up to him and pulled the green-eyed nation into a pseudo waltz.
“Take me for what I am,
Who I was meant to be.
And if you give a damn,
Take me baby, or leave me.”
England broke away and continued walking towards the door on the other side of the room. Not giving up so easily, America jumped on the conference table.
“Take me baby, or leave me.”
This caused some of the nations like Canada and Japan to gasp openly as England did stop and turn around; horrified that he would go to such lengths.
“A tiger in a cage, can never see the sun,” he belted, taking off his jacket in the process.
“This hero needs his stage! Baby, let’s have fun!
You are the one I choose;
Folks would kill to fill your shoes!” He tossed his jacket at England, who reluctantly caught it and walked over, and as if standing on the table wasn’t enough, America was now on his knees.
“You love the limelight too, now baby.”
England smacked the jacket on the table and America had enough sense to climb down now, but, as if just to piss him off, started taking off his shirt, running away when England blushed and chased him down.
“So be mine, and don’t waste my time,
Crying, ‘oh honey bear, are you still my, my, my baby?’”
England gave up and made his way to the door again, this time actually making out outside before America (and all of the nations who found this amusing) followed him.
“Take me for what I am,
Who I was meant to be!
And if you give a damn,
Take me baby, or leave me.”
By this point England had started walking up the stairs leading to where their rooms were, but stopped to look back and regretted it when he saw America on his knees again.
“No way, can I be what I’m not,” he got up and spread his arms out wide.
“But hey, don’t you want your man hot?” America started climbing up the stairs to join England.
“Don’t fight, don’t lose your head,
‘Cause every night, who’s in your bed?” He quirked an eyebrow, “who?”
Now, to England’s utter horror, he was on his knees again. “Who’s in your bed?” America looked up at the Britain with those puppy-dog eyes he knew he couldn’t refuse. “Kiss Iggy…”
“It won’t work,” not to be outdone by the American, England joined in on the singing.
“I look before I leap,” he took one of America’s hands and helped him up, stepping down a few steps in the process.
“I love margins and discipline,
I make lists in my sleep, baby,
What’s my sin?
Never quit, I follow through,
I hate mess but I love you,
What to do with my impromptu baby?
So be wise, ‘cause this man satisfies,” he stepped up to the and leaned in close as if to demonstrate his point.
He stepped back, smirking, and took off his own jacket, “You got a prize, don’t compromise. You’re one lucky baby!” England turned away from his lover and spread his arms wide.
“Take me for what I am!”
“A control freak,” America added as England stormed off down the stairs again,
“Who I was meant to be!”
“A snob yet over attentive,” America continued to chase him down.
“And if you give a damn,”
“A loveable droll geek.”
“Take me baby, or leave me.”
“An anal retentive!”
They (and their mob following them, but neither seemed to mind at this point) had found themselves back in the conference room. England turned around to face America as they both sang.
“That’s it!”
“The straw that breaks my back,” England sang by himself.
“I quit!” They sang as England walked over to the other side of the table.
“Unless you take it back,” England stopped to sing, before continuing on his way.
“Men,” they both sang as America draped an arm around the Germany’s shoulder
“What is it about them?” He sang.
“Can’t live, with them or without them!” they belted as America went to stand on the opposite side of the table from England.
“That doesn’t make much sense,” France critiqued.
“Take me for what I am!” They sang as the smacked the table simultaneously.
“Who I was meant to be!” England sang as he moved around the table.
“Who I was meant to be!” America echoed, both in words and actions.
“And if you give a damn,” he jumped up on the table and crawled over to England, who sang,
“And if you give a damn, take me baby,”
“Take me baby,” America sang as he jumped off the table in front of his lover, “take me or la-la leave me!”
“Take me baby!” They belted, getting dangerously close to one another, “or leave me,” they backed off, heading for opposite doors.
“Guess I’m leaving,” they both said simultaneously, looking at each other’s eyes before shouting, “I’m gone!” and slamming both doors.
A silence permeated over the room, finally broken by (not surprisingly) Italy.
“Ve, I didn’t even know they were together. Did you Germany?” The blonde could only shake his head, still too shocked for words to form.
“Please tell me someone got that on tape!” Prussia shouted, “I, uh, want to use if for blackmail…”
“Don’t worry, Prussia-san,” Japan said, “I’ll send you a copy later.”
“Me too Japan!” Hungary, Korea, Canada, and Denmark cried out.
“Enough!” Germany shouted, coming out of his daze, “We still have business to conduct! Gossip on your own time.”
Everyone grumbled, but made their way back to their seats, making bets as to when, where, and for how long the makeup sex would occur. The current favorite was ten minutes from now, in the closet down the hall, lasting until the end of the meeting.