Look, we were just in a hurry ok? [1/1]
anonymous
May 24 2009, 22:26:19 UTC
That North Italy wore Germany's shirts or pants was nothing new. All the gathered nations knew how clumsy Veneziano could be and that, although their formal allegiance had ended with the war, Germany still spent a lot of time taking care of the northern half of the peninsula.
No, that was normal and barely worth raising an eyebrow at. And that South and North Italy switched clothes with each other? Why, hardly any of the nations noticed, and France and Spain (who, for reasons that were more alike than they would care to admit, did) just shrugged and assumed that the brothers had either overslept or not bothered to sort their laundry properly.
What did, however, make Spain snort his coffee up the nose and gave France an acute case of nosebleed, was when South Italy bent down to retrieve his pen and his shirt slid up to reveal a familiar and far too large tank-top. Suddenly, the two nations lost what little interest they had in America's babble about how his friends had warned him about terrorists from outer space and began paying very close attention to the Italy brothers and Germany.
Their efforts did not long go unrewarded, because when America (as usual) trailed off into describing how he would be The Hero and Prevail Against the Andromedans and Germany rose to join England in making him shut up, several things became obvious at once:
1) Germany's pants were not, in fact, matched with his suit jacket 2) His belt seemed pulled a bit tight and, considering that it was a black snake-skin belt with a Coliseum buckle, the logical conclusion was that this might not actually be his belt at all.
Two pair of eyes swivelled as one to the happily snoozing North Italy. Germany's shirt, check. Germany's pants...?
While several other nations joined the argument at the head of the table, which had by now degraded into a fight about whether elves or aliens were the most trustworthy allies one could have, Spain threw a pen at Prussia's head.
The pale not-quite-nation was lying on a couch behind Germany and looked utterly bored. When everyone had started yelling, he had turned to the meeting table, only to roll his eyes as Germany called for order with increasing volume. He was now doodling crying Russias on the wall, ignoring the nervous looks the Baltic nations threw him and how they all (with various amounts of trembling involved) called Russia's attention to themselves whenever it looked like he might turn towards Germany and Prussia.
When the pen smacked into Prussia, he stopped his artistic endeavour and glared at Spain. As the other nation, through an impressive show of pantomimes (helped by France mouthing "Pants! Pants! Pants!" at them both) showed Prussia what he wanted him to do, the East-German man shrugged and went over to North Italy.
"Veveveeeee~!" Venezianos pitiful cries as he was unceremoniously pulled from his slumber and immediately hoisted upside down, penetrated even America and England's battle-drunk minds.
France jumped onto the table and cackled in triumph. "Germany's pants!" he cried, holding out both hands as if he wanted to lay the too-large suit pants before the gathered nations as a sacrifice.
Spain twitched and gibbered, while pointing a shaking finger at the slightly visible tomato-patterned boxers. "Ro- Ro- Romanos underwear!"
Prussia looked down at his wailing captive and then at Romano who had jumped over the table and was trying to choke Spain.
This, by the by, had the unfortunate side-effected of making the enraged Italian's overshirt flutter just enough to reveal the tank-top, and what looked suspiciously like the top edge of a pair of black-yellow-red pair of boxers, before all nations.
Prussia then gave his brother a speculative glance. "So..." he began, smirking when Germany turned flaming red and backed away from the table and the suddenly very many very curious eyes. "That must be why you promised to begin producing Trabants again, if I only spent the night with Austria yesterday?"
OP is back and overjoyed!
anonymous
May 25 2009, 05:57:09 UTC
Oh god, this is so much better than I ever dared to hope for! XDD Certainly wasn't expecting these three, but dude if GermanyxS.Italy don't make a good crack pair. Gotta love Romano's ever-winning tsundere.
I actually had to stop for a while to think just whose clothes everyone was wearing and... Gods, am I laughing now. (And extra love for including the Bad Touch Friends Trio bugging everyone!)
Re: Look, we were just in a hurry ok? [1/1]
anonymous
May 25 2009, 15:04:47 UTC
that was made of win! *_* implications of threesome goodness are too good to pass up (god, why do i feel like requesting germany/north/south now... *cries*)
and it was perfectly well done, with interaction and ICness. they were all so in character XDD i loved the mention of aliens with america, the Baltics and Russia, and of course, Prussia. where there is Prussia, there is awesomeness. XDD
*clings* i'm not OP but have my babies X3 (*what do you want for a sequel or whatever X3*)
Q for anon writer
anonymous
May 25 2009, 19:26:42 UTC
Are you by chance the anon writer who wrote that delicious GermanyxN.S. Italy piece? Because I can see this being the after math of what happened in said fic.
If not, I still love you for this fill! I love me my bad friend trio in anything and everything!
No, that was normal and barely worth raising an eyebrow at. And that South and North Italy switched clothes with each other? Why, hardly any of the nations noticed, and France and Spain (who, for reasons that were more alike than they would care to admit, did) just shrugged and assumed that the brothers had either overslept or not bothered to sort their laundry properly.
What did, however, make Spain snort his coffee up the nose and gave France an acute case of nosebleed, was when South Italy bent down to retrieve his pen and his shirt slid up to reveal a familiar and far too large tank-top.
Suddenly, the two nations lost what little interest they had in America's babble about how his friends had warned him about terrorists from outer space and began paying very close attention to the Italy brothers and Germany.
Their efforts did not long go unrewarded, because when America (as usual) trailed off into describing how he would be The Hero and Prevail Against the Andromedans and Germany rose to join England in making him shut up, several things became obvious at once:
1) Germany's pants were not, in fact, matched with his suit jacket
2) His belt seemed pulled a bit tight and, considering that it was a black snake-skin belt with a Coliseum buckle, the logical conclusion was that this might not actually be his belt at all.
Two pair of eyes swivelled as one to the happily snoozing North Italy. Germany's shirt, check. Germany's pants...?
While several other nations joined the argument at the head of the table, which had by now degraded into a fight about whether elves or aliens were the most trustworthy allies one could have, Spain threw a pen at Prussia's head.
The pale not-quite-nation was lying on a couch behind Germany and looked utterly bored. When everyone had started yelling, he had turned to the meeting table, only to roll his eyes as Germany called for order with increasing volume. He was now doodling crying Russias on the wall, ignoring the nervous looks the Baltic nations threw him and how they all (with various amounts of trembling involved) called Russia's attention to themselves whenever it looked like he might turn towards Germany and Prussia.
When the pen smacked into Prussia, he stopped his artistic endeavour and glared at Spain. As the other nation, through an impressive show of pantomimes (helped by France mouthing "Pants! Pants! Pants!" at them both) showed Prussia what he wanted him to do, the East-German man shrugged and went over to North Italy.
"Veveveeeee~!"
Venezianos pitiful cries as he was unceremoniously pulled from his slumber and immediately hoisted upside down, penetrated even America and England's battle-drunk minds.
France jumped onto the table and cackled in triumph.
"Germany's pants!" he cried, holding out both hands as if he wanted to lay the too-large suit pants before the gathered nations as a sacrifice.
Spain twitched and gibbered, while pointing a shaking finger at the slightly visible tomato-patterned boxers. "Ro- Ro- Romanos underwear!"
Prussia looked down at his wailing captive and then at Romano who had jumped over the table and was trying to choke Spain.
This, by the by, had the unfortunate side-effected of making the enraged Italian's overshirt flutter just enough to reveal the tank-top, and what looked suspiciously like the top edge of a pair of black-yellow-red pair of boxers, before all nations.
Prussia then gave his brother a speculative glance.
"So..." he began, smirking when Germany turned flaming red and backed away from the table and the suddenly very many very curious eyes.
"That must be why you promised to begin producing Trabants again, if I only spent the night with Austria yesterday?"
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I actually had to stop for a while to think just whose clothes everyone was wearing and... Gods, am I laughing now. (And extra love for including the Bad Touch Friends Trio bugging everyone!)
All in all, great work, anon!
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MARRY ME ANON!!!
♥
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and it was perfectly well done, with interaction and ICness. they were all so in character XDD i loved the mention of aliens with america, the Baltics and Russia, and of course, Prussia. where there is Prussia, there is awesomeness. XDD
*clings* i'm not OP but have my babies X3 (*what do you want for a sequel or whatever X3*)
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BADASS TRIO WITH ITALIES+GERMANY IMPLICATIONS WHUT!!!!
I LOVE YOU, WRITER!!!!!!!!111
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If not, I still love you for this fill! I love me my bad friend trio in anything and everything!
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