Trade Agreements - Part 1/?
anonymous
November 14 2010, 05:23:23 UTC
Aw, thanks! <3 So, this may be a bit longer than you expected, but…I guess more is better than less! Ukraine, because as said before…tracts of land! XD BTW, just to warn you, here be AmeCan. I’m terribly sorry if you don’t like that! But it’s waaaay in the background and it’s only mentioned, like, once. Also, one of this writeranon’s biggest kinks is breast stimulation and nipple play, so there’s gonna be quite a bit of that. I hope you like it!
I’m sorry this took so long…I wrote it, then I didn’t like what I had so I started editing. It somehow went from about five thousand words to the length it is now at that point…and then school got in the way and we had a dress rehearsal for the winter play…So I hope that’s alright and didn’t make you angry!
Why did France have to pop up at the most inopportune of times? England groaned to himself as he adjusted his tie and stared in the mirror, meeting eyes in it with a certain blue-eyed nuisance, whom at this very moment was cackling with glee and perhaps mirth.
“Oh, Angleterre, this is fantastic, my friend! Miss Ukraine?” France cackled again, and England idly wondered of there were people on the seventieth floor whom hadn’t heard the Frenchman’s cackle. He spun around, tossed something he hoped was heavy at him-Oh, damnit, just a throw pillow-and made for the door of his room. Francis followed him, and they joined several other nations in their migration from the hotel portion of the convention center, to the lower levels where the meetings were taking place. If England remembered correctly, he was required to make an appearance at three meetings today: The Commonwealth, the European Union, and Europe.
Europe was first, unfortunately, as he didn’t want to deal with the Italy brothers, Spain, and Russia at this time of the morning. But it had to be done and as he walked into the large panel room, he glanced around for his assigned seat. And it would appear that they were sticking to the alphabet, this time around, instead of geography. Good, because England didn’t think he could stand another meeting squished between France and Scotland, but…
His place marker did not read England. It read The United Kingdom. Which placed him between Vatican City-oh, look, the lad was already sitting there with a juice box-and…
“Good morning, England,” was murmured to his left, and England looked up to smile at Ukraine. Ah, beautiful Ukraine. So annoying sometimes, yes, but such a pleasure to be around when she didn’t have Russia hovering near her. Across the table, France guffawed obnoxiously before taking his place between Finland and Georgia. To say that either was pleased would be an lie, and England noticed with satisfaction that both nations scooted slightly away from the French nation. Finland engaged Estonia in excited babble the likes of which they usually got up to, and Georgia stared at Germany until the poor blonde was pressured into conversation.
“Good morning, Miss Ukraine,” England said politely, shuffling his papers about. At least there was no annoying America to listen to.
Ukraine hummed and adjusted her shirt. Most men would have taken this as an excuse to redirect their eyes towards her bosom. England was not most men, and he kept his gaze evenly upon her eyes. She seemed to take great delight in this.
“I would go for it, my friend!” France suddenly called. The strange outburst from the blonde went barely noticed in the room full of nations. But England knew what he meant, glared, and took great joy when one of the paper wads Aland and Svalbard had been chucking back and forth at each other hit him in the head.
Sweden promptly headed over and bopped Aland upside the head, but England hoped he would go easy on him. The boy had just done everyone a favor, after all…
England sighed and glanced at Ukraine. “Miss Ukraine, may I asked that you join me for coffee after this morning’s meetings?”
I’m sorry this took so long…I wrote it, then I didn’t like what I had so I started editing. It somehow went from about five thousand words to the length it is now at that point…and then school got in the way and we had a dress rehearsal for the winter play…So I hope that’s alright and didn’t make you angry!
Why did France have to pop up at the most inopportune of times? England groaned to himself as he adjusted his tie and stared in the mirror, meeting eyes in it with a certain blue-eyed nuisance, whom at this very moment was cackling with glee and perhaps mirth.
“Oh, Angleterre, this is fantastic, my friend! Miss Ukraine?” France cackled again, and England idly wondered of there were people on the seventieth floor whom hadn’t heard the Frenchman’s cackle. He spun around, tossed something he hoped was heavy at him-Oh, damnit, just a throw pillow-and made for the door of his room. Francis followed him, and they joined several other nations in their migration from the hotel portion of the convention center, to the lower levels where the meetings were taking place. If England remembered correctly, he was required to make an appearance at three meetings today: The Commonwealth, the European Union, and Europe.
Europe was first, unfortunately, as he didn’t want to deal with the Italy brothers, Spain, and Russia at this time of the morning. But it had to be done and as he walked into the large panel room, he glanced around for his assigned seat. And it would appear that they were sticking to the alphabet, this time around, instead of geography. Good, because England didn’t think he could stand another meeting squished between France and Scotland, but…
His place marker did not read England. It read The United Kingdom. Which placed him between Vatican City-oh, look, the lad was already sitting there with a juice box-and…
“Good morning, England,” was murmured to his left, and England looked up to smile at Ukraine. Ah, beautiful Ukraine. So annoying sometimes, yes, but such a pleasure to be around when she didn’t have Russia hovering near her. Across the table, France guffawed obnoxiously before taking his place between Finland and Georgia. To say that either was pleased would be an lie, and England noticed with satisfaction that both nations scooted slightly away from the French nation. Finland engaged Estonia in excited babble the likes of which they usually got up to, and Georgia stared at Germany until the poor blonde was pressured into conversation.
“Good morning, Miss Ukraine,” England said politely, shuffling his papers about. At least there was no annoying America to listen to.
Ukraine hummed and adjusted her shirt. Most men would have taken this as an excuse to redirect their eyes towards her bosom. England was not most men, and he kept his gaze evenly upon her eyes. She seemed to take great delight in this.
“I would go for it, my friend!” France suddenly called. The strange outburst from the blonde went barely noticed in the room full of nations. But England knew what he meant, glared, and took great joy when one of the paper wads Aland and Svalbard had been chucking back and forth at each other hit him in the head.
Sweden promptly headed over and bopped Aland upside the head, but England hoped he would go easy on him. The boy had just done everyone a favor, after all…
England sighed and glanced at Ukraine. “Miss Ukraine, may I asked that you join me for coffee after this morning’s meetings?”
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