Rika: Hi guys!~ Welcome to our story! ^_^ The idea wad originally Ree's, but for some reason the first chapter's mine. We'll update every day up until Christmas (And yeah, it's still the 14th where we live). NOTHING IS MINE EXCEPT THE ORDER THE WORDS ARE IN!
Warnings: Rated T for language and suggestive stuffs.
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On the first day of Hetalia my fandom gave to me
A crazy FACE family~
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Canada was really glad he had slept through the entire car ride back from the airport because, from what he had gathered, the whole thing had been one huge argument between America and France about England.
At the current moment everyone had gone back to sleep, but earlier it bad been chaos. France had gained a black eye (courtesy of England) and a Sharpie moustache (courtesy of America). In return, England had gotten a splitting headache it took five asprin to kill and had had one of his eyebrow singed off (not that it mattered much, those things grew back like weeds). America was somehow totally undamaged, but for some reason he was wearing only his boxers and a pair of neon pink knee-high boots.
Yeah, when he walked in on that, Canada had (wisely) decided to disappear into the kitchen and NOT ASK.
...It was kind of sad, how easy it was for him to do that. Especially considering that it was his own fucking family. But I digress. Canada shrugged it off, washed his face off in the sink to wake himself up, and started cooking breakfast.
"I... I r-really could be more confident around them though.." he mumbled to himself as he started mixing ingredients into a large bowl, "It's n-not like I'm scared of that, in fact the BTT does worse than that all the time..."
"Dude, we know that, " America, who had apparently woken up, said, "It's just kinda good that at least one of us is quiet and polite and all that shit most of the time."
Canada rolled his eyes, but laughed lightly. "That's really sweet, thanks. Go put on your pants."
"Will do~" America sang, practically skipping back into the living room. He was about to pull on the same jeans he had been wearing for the past three days when Canada used some kind of weird twin spider-sense to yell, "I meant clean pants!" without even sticking his head out of the kitchen.
"Shut the fuck up Canadia! These are clean!"
"Your suitcase is out in the car!"
"That's nice, why don't you bring it in for me?"
"Do it yourself, you lazy asshole! It's not my fault you don't understand the concept of packing lightly!"
Ah, yes. The Christmas spirit is so definitely in the air. Love, love, love~
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Everyone finally woke up for good at around noon. Canada was back to blending into the wallpaper silently now that it wasn't just him and his brother. France was cooking lunch, and America and England were having a 'discussion'. Also known as arguing or releasing sexual tensions, depending on who you ask.
"But Eyebrow Monster... I'm telling you, we have to decorate better! Santa's, like, attracted to bright lights and stuff!" America whined.
"NO, you git! Stop calling me those idiotic nicknames!" England spat back, "I've told you, there is absolutely no way I'm letting you turn my house into a giant ugly ball of sparkling lights!"
"But Eyebrows... It'll be soooooooo cool..."
"My name is England. Britain. The United Kingdom of Great Britain and Northern Ireland. NOT EYEBROWS!"
"Sure, sure, whatever you say old man. I brought you this awesome blowup snowman I found on sale. I know the perfect spot for it in your yard! And it'll glow at night and we can string lights from it and surround it by these mechanical reindeer I brought and.." America just kept on rambling and rambling while England began to facepalm repeatedly.
In the background, France glanced over at Canada and asked, "Cher, how the HELL did he get all those things here on an airplame?!"
Canada sighed. "He'll spend almost any amount of money to do something he thinks will make Britain happy..." He leaned over and tasted the egg dish France was making, "And I think this needs more salt."
"Really?" France stuck a finger in and tasted it himself. "Wow, you're right. Merci!" Canada blushed lightly and nodded.
"...Okay Iggy? See why you should let me decorate?" America finally finished.
"Anything to shut you up..." the Brit mumbled in defeat.
"AWESOME!" America fistpumped and hugged onto him tightly, causing the other to blush a rather dangerous shade if red. Canada half-expected France to look jealous, but he just started laughing like the pervert he was, so maybe he expected these kinds of things to happen. England was pretty easily embarrassed, if you thought about it. Or was it just when he was around America?
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Ah, anyways, after they finally got through their delicious lunch (even England admitted that it was 'not completely terrible'), America ran outside and grabbed four huge boxes of decorations from the car. England ignored almost everything he did to the house, while France followed him around fretting that that house was 'Not tres bien!'.
Of course, America wasn't about to put up with that. While he was hanging up lights it was fine- he'd rather that England not be in any kind of situation that could possibly be dangerous anyways- but when it came to decorating the tree there was absolutely no room for arguement. It was a 'family activity.' They usually turned on the radio to the station that played holiday music 24/7 and ate candy canes and so on.
But apparently England was in a very bitchy mood and didn't WANT to do any of that. Canada was fiddling with the radio and France was sitting on the couch licking a candy cane, but England was solidly continuing to give all three of them the cold shoulder, especially America.
"Iggs.."
No response.
"Iggy?"
Still nothing.
"Britain..?" America was obviously getting desperate, he was actually using England's proper name.
It only sort of worked though, England just asked "What do you want..?"
"You said you'd decorate."
"I agreed to let you decorate, I never said I would help!" He still sounded angry, but he had made the mistake of turning around and looking at the face America was pulling. Huge watery eyes, lower lip sticking out... Shit shit shit, he couldn't resist that face!
Canada stifled a giggle from where he and France were sitting (still trying to figure out the radio) as England totally gave in. "You knew something like this would happen, didn't you Papa?"
"Oui, I had a pretty good guess. They're predictable."
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Rika: Sorry if the ending is shitty or if there is any other general shittiness. I am very, very tired, and this chapter did NOT want to exist. Reviews are loved (even the flames)~
Translations (from French)-
Cher = Dear
Merci = Thank you.
Tres bien = Very good.
Oui = Yes.