A/N: Hey, I'm back! I still don't own Hetalia, and I still have an empty piggy-bank. This was made purely for humor and not to be taken seriously at all. Rating might be changed to T in later chapters.
Sweden was glaring. This was typical, but it was who he was angrily staring at that was surprising. The frightening nation was attempting to murder his "wife" with his eyes.
To make matters worse, said "wife", Finland, was frowning at Sweden.
As self appointed king, Denmark decided he had to take matters into his own hands, and get Norway's house cleaned up before he came home.
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The day had started like any other for Denmark, wake up, eat breakfast, and go to Norge's place. However, when the Dane got to his best friend's house Sweden and Finland were having a screaming match, and Norway's prized painting of the screaming guy was on the floor.
Sadly, luck was not on the side of any of the three Nordics, and in walked the straight-faced nation. A dark aura faintly reminiscent of Russia's rose around the nation, and the two bickering nations froze. Finland quivered and Sweden's eyes widened in a masked fear. Denmark, out of options, hid behind the island in Norway's kitchen.
The two Scandinavian uninvited guests remembered just how hard their ex-Viking friend could punch, with matching bruises on their arms. Finland got off easily, with a harsh shove and menacing gaze. Norway tenderly picked up his treasured painting, lovingly stroking the damaged material and muttering caring words to it.
After that train wreck, every one left. Well, everyone but Norway, because he lived there. It was also on that night that Denmark booked a therapy session for him and the other Nordics.
What were Sweden and Finland arguing about? Who is going to be their therapist? Will I ever write a serious fic?
To those who read my other stories, I am so sorry I haven't updated in a while. I have a truely evil English teacher, who feeds on the happiness of others making them uncreative.