Coochie, coochie coo! [1a/?]
anonymous
October 7 2010, 05:11:39 UTC
ehehe, fail!title :'D in case you don't know what it is, "coochie, coochie coo!" is often said to little kids in an attempt to piss them off get them to laugh but it really only pisses them off and they yank your hair harder than ever afterwards ;A; hope you enjoy, OP~
-x-x-x-
Ahhh, what a beautiful day! The birds were singing, the sun was shining, and the Bad Touch Trio currently lay in a hungover heap on Romano's bed.
Or maybe it was Belgium's. Or Seychelles', or Monaco's, or...you get the picture. The three really didn't know where the fuck they were, all they knew was that the bed was really comfy, and their heads were really killing. Besiiiides, "sharing is caring" and all that jazz, right?
Prussia was the first to wake up, and that was only because he heard the bedroom door slam open. The shrill shriek emitted by none other than England - oh, that was where they were! Prussia felt proud of himself for figuring that out...but...wait...how the fuck did they get in England again? - woke France, and France's elaborate stretching (a motion which here entailed hitting Spain in the nose) woke the third up.
So all three turned to blink sleepily at the furious figure standing in the doorway.
"You - why - what -" England sputtered, pointing one hand at the trio.
"You bastard!" shouted Spain all of a sudden, lifting a hand to point at England and falling off the bed. "You brought reinforcements! This is supposed to be one on one, not five on one! Apparitions, begone!" Cue exorcistic hand motions.
(Of course, by this point, France and Prussia were laughing too hard for England to hear the rest of Spain's words.)
"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" England screeched, hurling the book he held at France's head. It hit the blonde in the jaw ("MON VISAGE!" because, you know, he's French and French people don't yell MY FACE in English, now do they?) and England stomped his feet in RAEGGG when none of the too-drunk-to-care trio complied to his wishes.
So there was only one thing left to do!
With a dramatic pirouette and a jump, England's green military uniform - because, you know, he's an insomniac who spends his time embroidering instead of sleeping - transformed into a crisp white toga, and a wand materialized in his hand.
The Bad Touch Trio stared in awe (well, not really. It was more of a YOU'RE HIGH AND WE'RE HUNGOVER expression of appreciation) as England twirled again and pointed the wand at the three rather grandly.
"If you want to act childishly, then children you shall be!" he said (grandly), sweeping his arm (grandly) in a wide arc and smirking (grandly) as sparkles flew out the end of the wand (grandly). The three on the bed passed out at the same exact time, from overexposure to grandness of proportions as epic as those the blonde was portraying.
Of course, this was England, and if you've ever been to England you'll know that nothing goes right there. (No, seriously, the forecast says NO RAIN, YIPPEE! and so you go out in a dress, and the guy's right, it doesn't rain. No, it hails instead, and Mother Nature cackles as you shake ice out of your panties.)
-x-x-x-
The three woke up several hours later, decidedly more sober and curious as to how they ended up on England's bed.
"Maybe he kidnapped us," suggested Spain.
"Hah! Kidnap the awesome me?" crowed Prussia. "We obviously went drinking together, and the loser had to host us for the night!"
"Then shouldn't we be at your place, mon ami?" interjected France. "It is clear that we had an orgy and England woke up first."
"Then why're our clothes on?"
"Foolish Spaniard! You know how prude Arthur is. And how much he likes touching my five meters! I bet he dressed us just so he could -"
"Fascinating, Gilbert. Mais, Antoine is right; darling Arthur has never dressed us before."
"Maybe we're just imagining to be dressed!"
"Maybe we actually got drunk and wound up here..."
"Oui, Ludwig has been most kind, but even he must be annoyed when we waltz into his home at all odd hours, drunk beyond measure -"
Coochie, coochie coo! [1b/?]
anonymous
October 7 2010, 05:12:19 UTC
None of the bickering men noticed when a tiny blonde head poked into the room, or when green eyes shimmered as they landed on France.
And, well, they kind of noticed when England cannonballed towards the Frenchman.
Not really. It was kind of,
"No, I think we spoke to that Italian chick before we went to the club on that street thingy in Paris!"
*whoosh*
"The Champs-Élysées? I thought that was after we got that sushi deal -" *thump* "- the unlimited order but anything you waste you have to pay for? You know, the place we made ourselves throw up at so we wouldn't get charged?"
*pained gasp*
"So, Francie, what do you - hey, where'd Francis go?"
"The gremlins kidnapped him. Who gives a fuck?"
"D-down here *wheeze* mes amis..."
And then sitting up with baby England plastered onto France's face.
"Fwancis!" he cooed, hugging his face tightly.
"I-is that England??" said Prussia incredulously, blinking widely and leaning forward for a better glance as France peeled England off his beautiful head. The first thing France noticed was that, instead of mocking humor, there was an adoring, doting glimmer in Prussia's burgundy eyes. Spain's Hooker's green ones (when the three had held a color wheel to Spain's eyes, they had been absolutely delighted to discover that the precise shade was called Hooker's green) reflected the same emotion, and both men looked absolutely smitten with the giggling bundle in France's arms.
France hadn't had the chance to look at England himself yet, and so he spun the little guy around and stared at him straight in the face.
Before melting like chocolate on a sunny day.
Because England was just so fucking cute.
Instead of twisted into a grimace, shell-pink lips were curved up into a wide smile. His emerald eyes shone radiantly, almost like a character in Japan's shows, and were filled with so much love and warmth that it made France kind of shatter inside. Two tiny hands - barely large enough to wrap around two of France's long, artisan fingers - groped out for him.
The white, unblemished and un-scarred skin on his round, chubby cheeks quivered as he giggled. "Bwothew, bwothew!" he was cooing. "Why're you so biiiig?"
France stared in open shock.
Spain piped up first, an enthusiastic grin on his face and a gleam in his eyes that France hadn't seen since Romano was a cute little kid. "Can we keep him?"
It took half a second for the other two men to reply. "You would say that, you pedophile."
The Spaniard frowned. "Awww, please?"
"But - a baby!" said Prussia, biting his lip.
"You never raised one, you don't know how fun it is," argued Spain.
"You only like kids because Romano let you touch him when he was little!"
"No he didn't!"
"Aha! So you tried, then!"
"Huh? You lost me..."
France absently pulled England close and started stroking his hair, smiling. "Don't worry, Artur~ we'll keep you safe," he hummed.
England, oblivious to the bickering, absently gnawed on France's hair.
-x-x-x-
so. :DDDD THIS WAS INSANELY FUN TO WRITE. Next part in a few days, or tomorrow if I'm lucky xD
Re: Coochie, coochie coo! [1b/?]
anonymous
October 7 2010, 08:36:09 UTC
Oh
yes.
Here's to really, really hoping Francis peeks back into his young!France personality with mini!Arthur because it'd really out the other two like nothing else. And the fourthwall-breaching was hilarious, author!anon! I'd ask to marry you too, but I see someone has spoken before me. D:
Spain's Hooker's green ones (when the three had held a color wheel to Spain's eyes, they had been absolutely delighted to discover that the precise shade was called Hooker's green)
Pfff, this is so...so them xD
Two tiny hands - barely large enough to wrap around two of France's long, artisan fingers - groped out for him.
ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME WITH THE CUTE?????????????????? ^^
England, oblivious to the bickering, absently gnawed on France's hair.
D'aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww, so adorable~~
Moar cute brother France and sweet, adorable bundle of cuteness Chibirisu ♥
by the way, I fucking love that title something fierce XD
authornon cackles in delight, she's never been quoted before :'D
anonymous
October 7 2010, 14:28:08 UTC
HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE! -glomps-
I know, right? Originally what happened was me describing Spain's eyes as "emerald" but then I had to do something for England's eyes, so I went on Wikipedia's "shades of green" page and chose the color that looked closest to Spain's eyes! (according to me. But I'm colorblind :D)
And I'm sorry! England is soooooooooooooooooo cute, man, he's a frickin adorable baby boy :'D but the req was for a "happy, chubby little thing", so...sorry! -hands you a bandaid to cover the gaping cuteness wound-
-x-x-x-
Ahhh, what a beautiful day! The birds were singing, the sun was shining, and the Bad Touch Trio currently lay in a hungover heap on Romano's bed.
Or maybe it was Belgium's. Or Seychelles', or Monaco's, or...you get the picture. The three really didn't know where the fuck they were, all they knew was that the bed was really comfy, and their heads were really killing. Besiiiides, "sharing is caring" and all that jazz, right?
Prussia was the first to wake up, and that was only because he heard the bedroom door slam open. The shrill shriek emitted by none other than England - oh, that was where they were! Prussia felt proud of himself for figuring that out...but...wait...how the fuck did they get in England again? - woke France, and France's elaborate stretching (a motion which here entailed hitting Spain in the nose) woke the third up.
So all three turned to blink sleepily at the furious figure standing in the doorway.
"You - why - what -" England sputtered, pointing one hand at the trio.
"You bastard!" shouted Spain all of a sudden, lifting a hand to point at England and falling off the bed. "You brought reinforcements! This is supposed to be one on one, not five on one! Apparitions, begone!" Cue exorcistic hand motions.
(Of course, by this point, France and Prussia were laughing too hard for England to hear the rest of Spain's words.)
"GET OUT OF MY HOUSE!" England screeched, hurling the book he held at France's head. It hit the blonde in the jaw ("MON VISAGE!" because, you know, he's French and French people don't yell MY FACE in English, now do they?) and England stomped his feet in RAEGGG when none of the too-drunk-to-care trio complied to his wishes.
So there was only one thing left to do!
With a dramatic pirouette and a jump, England's green military uniform - because, you know, he's an insomniac who spends his time embroidering instead of sleeping - transformed into a crisp white toga, and a wand materialized in his hand.
The Bad Touch Trio stared in awe (well, not really. It was more of a YOU'RE HIGH AND WE'RE HUNGOVER expression of appreciation) as England twirled again and pointed the wand at the three rather grandly.
"If you want to act childishly, then children you shall be!" he said (grandly), sweeping his arm (grandly) in a wide arc and smirking (grandly) as sparkles flew out the end of the wand (grandly). The three on the bed passed out at the same exact time, from overexposure to grandness of proportions as epic as those the blonde was portraying.
Of course, this was England, and if you've ever been to England you'll know that nothing goes right there. (No, seriously, the forecast says NO RAIN, YIPPEE! and so you go out in a dress, and the guy's right, it doesn't rain. No, it hails instead, and Mother Nature cackles as you shake ice out of your panties.)
-x-x-x-
The three woke up several hours later, decidedly more sober and curious as to how they ended up on England's bed.
"Maybe he kidnapped us," suggested Spain.
"Hah! Kidnap the awesome me?" crowed Prussia. "We obviously went drinking together, and the loser had to host us for the night!"
"Then shouldn't we be at your place, mon ami?" interjected France. "It is clear that we had an orgy and England woke up first."
"Then why're our clothes on?"
"Foolish Spaniard! You know how prude Arthur is. And how much he likes touching my five meters! I bet he dressed us just so he could -"
"Fascinating, Gilbert. Mais, Antoine is right; darling Arthur has never dressed us before."
"Maybe we're just imagining to be dressed!"
"Maybe we actually got drunk and wound up here..."
"Oui, Ludwig has been most kind, but even he must be annoyed when we waltz into his home at all odd hours, drunk beyond measure -"
"Okay, first, the awesome me doesn't waltz."
Reply
And, well, they kind of noticed when England cannonballed towards the Frenchman.
Not really. It was kind of,
"No, I think we spoke to that Italian chick before we went to the club on that street thingy in Paris!"
*whoosh*
"The Champs-Élysées? I thought that was after we got that sushi deal -" *thump* "- the unlimited order but anything you waste you have to pay for? You know, the place we made ourselves throw up at so we wouldn't get charged?"
*pained gasp*
"So, Francie, what do you - hey, where'd Francis go?"
"The gremlins kidnapped him. Who gives a fuck?"
"D-down here *wheeze* mes amis..."
And then sitting up with baby England plastered onto France's face.
"Fwancis!" he cooed, hugging his face tightly.
"I-is that England??" said Prussia incredulously, blinking widely and leaning forward for a better glance as France peeled England off his beautiful head. The first thing France noticed was that, instead of mocking humor, there was an adoring, doting glimmer in Prussia's burgundy eyes. Spain's Hooker's green ones (when the three had held a color wheel to Spain's eyes, they had been absolutely delighted to discover that the precise shade was called Hooker's green) reflected the same emotion, and both men looked absolutely smitten with the giggling bundle in France's arms.
France hadn't had the chance to look at England himself yet, and so he spun the little guy around and stared at him straight in the face.
Before melting like chocolate on a sunny day.
Because England was just so fucking cute.
Instead of twisted into a grimace, shell-pink lips were curved up into a wide smile. His emerald eyes shone radiantly, almost like a character in Japan's shows, and were filled with so much love and warmth that it made France kind of shatter inside. Two tiny hands - barely large enough to wrap around two of France's long, artisan fingers - groped out for him.
The white, unblemished and un-scarred skin on his round, chubby cheeks quivered as he giggled. "Bwothew, bwothew!" he was cooing. "Why're you so biiiig?"
France stared in open shock.
Spain piped up first, an enthusiastic grin on his face and a gleam in his eyes that France hadn't seen since Romano was a cute little kid. "Can we keep him?"
It took half a second for the other two men to reply. "You would say that, you pedophile."
The Spaniard frowned. "Awww, please?"
"But - a baby!" said Prussia, biting his lip.
"You never raised one, you don't know how fun it is," argued Spain.
"You only like kids because Romano let you touch him when he was little!"
"No he didn't!"
"Aha! So you tried, then!"
"Huh? You lost me..."
France absently pulled England close and started stroking his hair, smiling. "Don't worry, Artur~ we'll keep you safe," he hummed.
England, oblivious to the bickering, absently gnawed on France's hair.
-x-x-x-
so. :DDDD THIS WAS INSANELY FUN TO WRITE. Next part in a few days, or tomorrow if I'm lucky xD
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Marry me author!anon. I won't settle for no. -makes grabby hands at you-
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I'm glad you liked it! :DDD
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yes.
Here's to really, really hoping Francis peeks back into his young!France personality with mini!Arthur because it'd really out the other two like nothing else. And the fourthwall-breaching was hilarious, author!anon! I'd ask to marry you too, but I see someone has spoken before me. D:
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I was thinking of doing that, even though France will probably have "magic fingers" slipping up England's shirt. Hmm.
I'm into polygamy ;D /shot
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This fic? Im stalking it! :D
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Spain is SUCH a pedo, are you kidding me?? Oh man :'D
Yay!!! -glomps-
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<3
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*SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE*
Spain's Hooker's green ones (when the three had held a color wheel to Spain's eyes, they had been absolutely delighted to discover that the precise shade was called Hooker's green)
Pfff, this is so...so them xD
Two tiny hands - barely large enough to wrap around two of France's long, artisan fingers - groped out for him.
ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME WITH THE CUTE?????????????????? ^^
England, oblivious to the bickering, absently gnawed on France's hair.
D'aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaawwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww, so adorable~~
Moar cute brother France and sweet, adorable bundle of cuteness Chibirisu ♥
by the way, I fucking love that title something fierce XD
Reply
I know, right? Originally what happened was me describing Spain's eyes as "emerald" but then I had to do something for England's eyes, so I went on Wikipedia's "shades of green" page and chose the color that looked closest to Spain's eyes! (according to me. But I'm colorblind :D)
And I'm sorry! England is soooooooooooooooooo cute, man, he's a frickin adorable baby boy :'D but the req was for a "happy, chubby little thing", so...sorry! -hands you a bandaid to cover the gaping cuteness wound-
ISN'T HE?!?! UWAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH
"Big Brother Francis to the rescue!" /shot
And thank you :'DDD
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