(no subject)
Title: Fashion War
Pairings: slight mentions of Gilbert/Ludwig and Feliciano/Ludwig/Francis
Author Comment: It's crack. Absolutely crack. So don't worry about logic or context ;D.
-
„Chanel!“
Ludwig looked to the right.
„Versace!“
Ludwig looked to the left.
„Vuitton!!“
He sighed and rubbed his forehead in exhaustion. He did have to ask, did he?!
„Dolce & Gabbana!!“
„Now, can’t I just -“
Two faces turned in his direction, two glares bored into his blue eyes and he immediately snapped his mouth shut.
Okay, perhaps he should just wait until they settled on a final solution.
The German sighed again and pulled his notepad out of his pocket, reading through his notices to see how much time he could (or more was allowed to) spare today.
Not much, apparently, if the red circle around the word ‘Treffen’ had a meaning.
“Bruder!”
Ludwig looked up as relieve spread over his face. “Gil.”
“What’s going on here? You can here the screams even down on the streets! …What exactly is this about?”
Gilbert stopped next to his side and looked back and forth between the two nations in front of him with interest.
Both had started to turn red in the face, France some more visible than Italy thanks to his lighter skin.
“DIOR!!!”
“ARMANI!!!”
“Ah, well, I have asked them if they had any suggestions for a new suit design for the both of us. Kanzlerin Merkel advised me to get some more up-to-day clothes because she finds the ones we have are not presentable enough anymore. …It was a dump idea to ask them.”
An exhausted expression crossed over Ludwig’s face.
With a swift move, he had his mobile phone out, tipping fast a message.
“No, I don’t think it was a good idea either.” Gilbert announced matter of fact, watching the fight with an amused grin on his face.
Those two always brought trouble with them.
-
France and Italy had started to repeat the labels while showing pictures of different male models in magazines to each other, both waving the photos fanatically around to make a point.
Currently Francis was explaining something about ‘street style’ but Feliciano managed to tune him down, babbling something about the ‘new trend of tomorrow’.
-
“Could you represent me in the upcoming meeting? It’s about the financial situation of our car industry. I’ll give you my papers; you have enough information to follow what they will discuss about.”
A thin folder was trusted into Gilbert’s direction. Ludwig snapped his mobile shut with one hand and sent him an apologetically gaze.
“I’ll make up for the trouble when I get home. …IF I get home today at all.” He added with regret in his voice as he turned his attention back at the sight in front of him.
-
France and Italy had calmed down a little and were settling down on the middle of the floor, colourful ripped out pages all around them.
Both were presenting each other their favoured outfits, pointing out every little detail of the pictured suit and emphasizing their words with wild gestures.
-
Hopefully that wasn’t a rose suit France held up just now Ludwig thought in panic.
Perhaps the chaos was getting on his nerves?
Head shaking, the nation switched his attention back to the male next to him.
Gilbert rubbed his chin as if he was debating whether he should take or refuse his brother’s plea.
“Hmm, I’m not sure… Financial meetings are always so boring and I can’t stand the most of the ministers there! Its way more fun to watch those two fight ~”
“Gilbert! Bitte. I can’t leave here now; they will kill me if they notice that I simply walked away! …On the other hand, they would go first after you if you stay.” A smirk spread over Ludwig’s face.
“That would be funny too, wouldn’t it?,” he asked his brother in a friendly tone, a small smile spreading suggestively over his face.
“Argh, okay! I swear you have spent way too much time with Russia when old Gerhard was Kanzler!” The silver-blond haired nation gripped the folder from Ludwig’s still extended hand and stormed away to attend the conference.
Only five feet away from the door he turned around, waiting until Ludwig looked his way.
“But you better keep your word! And I get to decide what I feel is appropriated as a reward!”
Ludwig had the sudden urge to just grip the folder back and push Gilbert into the on-going discussion on his living room carpet. Should they follow him until eternity, his brother would bite the dust before him!
“Only when you behave,” was the answer he growled eventually back, a foreboding what his brother would let him do this time already in his mind.
Gilbert grinned and blew him a kiss, without doubt knowing his brother’s thoughts. “See you later, Liebling ~”
A slight blush grew on Ludwig’s cheeks but before he could fire back, Gilbert had left the room. Faster than expected. Sneaky bastard.
-
“Look, he will look way better in this one than in your’s! This suits his built a lot more!”
“Ve, but mine has a nicer cut.”
“But it doesn’t fit as perfect as mine!”
-
The noisy background caught his attention again and with fear Ludwig realized that he had to confront them sooner or later otherwise he wouldn’t get a peaceful sleep later on.
Which brought him to the question at hand: should he interfere or would that make the situation even worse?
Unsure, Ludwig kneeled down making himself comfortable on the carpet, Feliciano to his left and Francis to his right.
Masses of magazine pictures lay around them, all showing different types of suits for men, some grey and black in the good old way but more exemplars were a light colour like yellow or blue and had a weird cut which made the suit fall uneven.
The worst picture was the one Ludwig recognized from before, the one with the rose colour he hadn’t been sure about.
It was indeed rose, a light rose suit worn by a man who even had the same coloured shoes.
Urgh.
Ludwig slowly tugged the page near and then, when both Italy and French had their eyes on another picture, he grumbled the paper in his hands and shoved the offending piece into his pocket.
No risks today. The situation was bad enough to begin with.
So, time to face his two fashion experts.
“I only need two suits, nothing more. Will it satisfy you both if we take one of a French label and one of an Italian label for Gilbert and me?,” he carefully tried to lift the tension.
In an instance, silence swept through the room.
Nervously Ludwig stared into the two eye pairs that had focused on him the moment he had raised his voice.
“What? That will solve the problem, won’t it?”
Francis shook his head. “That isn’t the question here, chèri. Which suit will you wear? Mine or Ita-chan’s?”
“Nee, nee, Germany, which one?” Feliciano lent forward on his hands, the same intent expression on his face as on Francis’s.
Suddenly a wall had been built behind his back.
Ludwig could almost feel the cold stone which pressed into his shoulder blades and took any chance of escape away from him.
He should have left them to Gilbert, after all!
“…We could buy two of each version and switch each day?”
Oh, that wasn’t the right answer, judged by Francis’s glare and Feliciano’s vanishing smile.
“Why is it so important anyway?”
At that Francis raised an eyebrow and Feliciano looked astonished.
“Ve, it is very important, Germany ~”
Ludwig looked back and forth between them, totally confused as to why the label of a suit could be so essential. He wished they did that in other aspects too, but only fashion, food or language matters brought up such a serious attitude within them.
“You will stop and agree with my decision if I chose? No more fighting?”
Both nodded, a lovely smile was on Feliciano’s face while Francis seemed to be nervous.
“Okay…”
Ludwig closed his eyes, took a deep breath and opened them again. They wouldn’t like it in the least bit but that was the only solution he could think of.
He should have done that before. No more consulting Francis or Feliciano when he had mode problems.
“I’ll take the designs Karl showed me earlier.”
He stood up swiftly, wanting to have a little space when they finally had registered what he had said. Feliciano crunched his nose up adorably, probably pondering where he had heard that name before. Francis rubbed a hand through his hair, also a thoughtful appearance on his face.
Then it sunk in.
“You did what?!” “Nee, that is unfair, Germany ~”
Ludwig only shrugged. “You said it was my final decision. Although I don’t know why it matters much which suit I’ll wear, one of you would have been sad if I did chose the other, of that I’m sure. To prevent that mine was the wisest choice to make.”
That finally solved, he extended a hand to each of the nation on the floor.
“Don’t take it personal, but my chancellor wishes me to keep a neutral position. And I prefer to not have another three weeks war like the time I asked you for perfume advice!”
Grumbling, Francis took his hand seconds after Feliciano had linked his with Ludwig’s.
“You are way too know-it-all and nice sometimes, you know?”
Pulling both up without having to use much strength, Ludwig slightly smiled at the Frenchman and patted both him and Italy on their backs.
“Thanks for helping me out. I have to go and look after Gilbert, but as an appreciation, let me invite you to dinner?”
A warm body bummed into his right side and Ludwig felt a head being tousled into his suit.
“Vee ~ But we will eat pasta.”
The German ruffled Feliciano’s soft hair gently, grateful that he wasn’t upset.
“If you want to.”
A growl at his left was the only warning he got before Francis pulled his arm away from the Italian’s locks and clutched it possessively.
Not commenting on that - because France always did that when Italy was around since he and Germany had become the motor of the European Union (which somehow catapulted their relationship into regions Ludwig was still wondering about) - Ludwig put his unoccupied arm around Feliciano’s shoulder and started to stir them all in the direction of the door.
He only hoped that Gilbert hadn’t already lost his patience and was insulting the conference members like last time he had been in charge of a political meeting.
Or worse, was trying to persuade his ministers that war was the only solution.
-
Translations:
Treffen = meeting
Bitte = please
Liebling = darling
Kanzler Gerhard was the boss of Germany before Kanzlerin Merkel; he had a pretty good friendship with Russia's boss Putin.
Karl is Ludwig's short cut for Karl Lagerfeld, a popular German designer (although he is a bit crazy sometimes).
Pairings: slight mentions of Gilbert/Ludwig and Feliciano/Ludwig/Francis
Author Comment: It's crack. Absolutely crack. So don't worry about logic or context ;D.
-
„Chanel!“
Ludwig looked to the right.
„Versace!“
Ludwig looked to the left.
„Vuitton!!“
He sighed and rubbed his forehead in exhaustion. He did have to ask, did he?!
„Dolce & Gabbana!!“
„Now, can’t I just -“
Two faces turned in his direction, two glares bored into his blue eyes and he immediately snapped his mouth shut.
Okay, perhaps he should just wait until they settled on a final solution.
The German sighed again and pulled his notepad out of his pocket, reading through his notices to see how much time he could (or more was allowed to) spare today.
Not much, apparently, if the red circle around the word ‘Treffen’ had a meaning.
“Bruder!”
Ludwig looked up as relieve spread over his face. “Gil.”
“What’s going on here? You can here the screams even down on the streets! …What exactly is this about?”
Gilbert stopped next to his side and looked back and forth between the two nations in front of him with interest.
Both had started to turn red in the face, France some more visible than Italy thanks to his lighter skin.
“DIOR!!!”
“ARMANI!!!”
“Ah, well, I have asked them if they had any suggestions for a new suit design for the both of us. Kanzlerin Merkel advised me to get some more up-to-day clothes because she finds the ones we have are not presentable enough anymore. …It was a dump idea to ask them.”
An exhausted expression crossed over Ludwig’s face.
With a swift move, he had his mobile phone out, tipping fast a message.
“No, I don’t think it was a good idea either.” Gilbert announced matter of fact, watching the fight with an amused grin on his face.
Those two always brought trouble with them.
-
France and Italy had started to repeat the labels while showing pictures of different male models in magazines to each other, both waving the photos fanatically around to make a point.
Currently Francis was explaining something about ‘street style’ but Feliciano managed to tune him down, babbling something about the ‘new trend of tomorrow’.
-
“Could you represent me in the upcoming meeting? It’s about the financial situation of our car industry. I’ll give you my papers; you have enough information to follow what they will discuss about.”
A thin folder was trusted into Gilbert’s direction. Ludwig snapped his mobile shut with one hand and sent him an apologetically gaze.
“I’ll make up for the trouble when I get home. …IF I get home today at all.” He added with regret in his voice as he turned his attention back at the sight in front of him.
-
France and Italy had calmed down a little and were settling down on the middle of the floor, colourful ripped out pages all around them.
Both were presenting each other their favoured outfits, pointing out every little detail of the pictured suit and emphasizing their words with wild gestures.
-
Hopefully that wasn’t a rose suit France held up just now Ludwig thought in panic.
Perhaps the chaos was getting on his nerves?
Head shaking, the nation switched his attention back to the male next to him.
Gilbert rubbed his chin as if he was debating whether he should take or refuse his brother’s plea.
“Hmm, I’m not sure… Financial meetings are always so boring and I can’t stand the most of the ministers there! Its way more fun to watch those two fight ~”
“Gilbert! Bitte. I can’t leave here now; they will kill me if they notice that I simply walked away! …On the other hand, they would go first after you if you stay.” A smirk spread over Ludwig’s face.
“That would be funny too, wouldn’t it?,” he asked his brother in a friendly tone, a small smile spreading suggestively over his face.
“Argh, okay! I swear you have spent way too much time with Russia when old Gerhard was Kanzler!” The silver-blond haired nation gripped the folder from Ludwig’s still extended hand and stormed away to attend the conference.
Only five feet away from the door he turned around, waiting until Ludwig looked his way.
“But you better keep your word! And I get to decide what I feel is appropriated as a reward!”
Ludwig had the sudden urge to just grip the folder back and push Gilbert into the on-going discussion on his living room carpet. Should they follow him until eternity, his brother would bite the dust before him!
“Only when you behave,” was the answer he growled eventually back, a foreboding what his brother would let him do this time already in his mind.
Gilbert grinned and blew him a kiss, without doubt knowing his brother’s thoughts. “See you later, Liebling ~”
A slight blush grew on Ludwig’s cheeks but before he could fire back, Gilbert had left the room. Faster than expected. Sneaky bastard.
-
“Look, he will look way better in this one than in your’s! This suits his built a lot more!”
“Ve, but mine has a nicer cut.”
“But it doesn’t fit as perfect as mine!”
-
The noisy background caught his attention again and with fear Ludwig realized that he had to confront them sooner or later otherwise he wouldn’t get a peaceful sleep later on.
Which brought him to the question at hand: should he interfere or would that make the situation even worse?
Unsure, Ludwig kneeled down making himself comfortable on the carpet, Feliciano to his left and Francis to his right.
Masses of magazine pictures lay around them, all showing different types of suits for men, some grey and black in the good old way but more exemplars were a light colour like yellow or blue and had a weird cut which made the suit fall uneven.
The worst picture was the one Ludwig recognized from before, the one with the rose colour he hadn’t been sure about.
It was indeed rose, a light rose suit worn by a man who even had the same coloured shoes.
Urgh.
Ludwig slowly tugged the page near and then, when both Italy and French had their eyes on another picture, he grumbled the paper in his hands and shoved the offending piece into his pocket.
No risks today. The situation was bad enough to begin with.
So, time to face his two fashion experts.
“I only need two suits, nothing more. Will it satisfy you both if we take one of a French label and one of an Italian label for Gilbert and me?,” he carefully tried to lift the tension.
In an instance, silence swept through the room.
Nervously Ludwig stared into the two eye pairs that had focused on him the moment he had raised his voice.
“What? That will solve the problem, won’t it?”
Francis shook his head. “That isn’t the question here, chèri. Which suit will you wear? Mine or Ita-chan’s?”
“Nee, nee, Germany, which one?” Feliciano lent forward on his hands, the same intent expression on his face as on Francis’s.
Suddenly a wall had been built behind his back.
Ludwig could almost feel the cold stone which pressed into his shoulder blades and took any chance of escape away from him.
He should have left them to Gilbert, after all!
“…We could buy two of each version and switch each day?”
Oh, that wasn’t the right answer, judged by Francis’s glare and Feliciano’s vanishing smile.
“Why is it so important anyway?”
At that Francis raised an eyebrow and Feliciano looked astonished.
“Ve, it is very important, Germany ~”
Ludwig looked back and forth between them, totally confused as to why the label of a suit could be so essential. He wished they did that in other aspects too, but only fashion, food or language matters brought up such a serious attitude within them.
“You will stop and agree with my decision if I chose? No more fighting?”
Both nodded, a lovely smile was on Feliciano’s face while Francis seemed to be nervous.
“Okay…”
Ludwig closed his eyes, took a deep breath and opened them again. They wouldn’t like it in the least bit but that was the only solution he could think of.
He should have done that before. No more consulting Francis or Feliciano when he had mode problems.
“I’ll take the designs Karl showed me earlier.”
He stood up swiftly, wanting to have a little space when they finally had registered what he had said. Feliciano crunched his nose up adorably, probably pondering where he had heard that name before. Francis rubbed a hand through his hair, also a thoughtful appearance on his face.
Then it sunk in.
“You did what?!” “Nee, that is unfair, Germany ~”
Ludwig only shrugged. “You said it was my final decision. Although I don’t know why it matters much which suit I’ll wear, one of you would have been sad if I did chose the other, of that I’m sure. To prevent that mine was the wisest choice to make.”
That finally solved, he extended a hand to each of the nation on the floor.
“Don’t take it personal, but my chancellor wishes me to keep a neutral position. And I prefer to not have another three weeks war like the time I asked you for perfume advice!”
Grumbling, Francis took his hand seconds after Feliciano had linked his with Ludwig’s.
“You are way too know-it-all and nice sometimes, you know?”
Pulling both up without having to use much strength, Ludwig slightly smiled at the Frenchman and patted both him and Italy on their backs.
“Thanks for helping me out. I have to go and look after Gilbert, but as an appreciation, let me invite you to dinner?”
A warm body bummed into his right side and Ludwig felt a head being tousled into his suit.
“Vee ~ But we will eat pasta.”
The German ruffled Feliciano’s soft hair gently, grateful that he wasn’t upset.
“If you want to.”
A growl at his left was the only warning he got before Francis pulled his arm away from the Italian’s locks and clutched it possessively.
Not commenting on that - because France always did that when Italy was around since he and Germany had become the motor of the European Union (which somehow catapulted their relationship into regions Ludwig was still wondering about) - Ludwig put his unoccupied arm around Feliciano’s shoulder and started to stir them all in the direction of the door.
He only hoped that Gilbert hadn’t already lost his patience and was insulting the conference members like last time he had been in charge of a political meeting.
Or worse, was trying to persuade his ministers that war was the only solution.
-
Translations:
Treffen = meeting
Bitte = please
Liebling = darling
Kanzler Gerhard was the boss of Germany before Kanzlerin Merkel; he had a pretty good friendship with Russia's boss Putin.
Karl is Ludwig's short cut for Karl Lagerfeld, a popular German designer (although he is a bit crazy sometimes).