Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia, only my strange headcanon...


Feliciano clung onto Ludwig's arm. "Doitsuuuuuu, I'm so nervous!"

The German patted Feliciano's head, staying away from the curl that he knew all too much about. "Try not to worry too much about it, Feli."

They were sitting on the couch in front of the television and watching the football game of Italy against England, which was coming to a penalty shootout.

"I can't watch!" the little Italian yelled and he covered his eyes with the hand that wasn't attached to Ludwig.

Ludwig sighed and decided to actually pay attention to the shootout for when his Feli— erm… he meant Feliciano, would undoubtedly ask him what had happened.

Feliciano spread open the fingers covering one of his eyes right in time to watch Alessandro Diamanti score and the rest of the players on the team celebrating immediately after. Feliciano squealed with delight and tackle hugged Ludwig. "Doitsu! Doitsu! I won! I won! I won! Ve~"

Ludwig sighed but he couldn't help smiling. "Ja, Feli. I saw."

"Ve~, that means I get to play Doitsu, right?" Feliciano looked up at Ludwig, whom he hadn't stopped hugging yet.

Ludwig started for a moment. "Was?"

"Ve~ because I beat big brother England, fratello and I play Doitsu in the semifinals on Thursday!"

Oh Gott, he had completely forgotten about that. And how was he supposed to deal with Feliciano during that? He had a hard enough time doing just that on a day-to-day basis. He looked the little Italian who was hugging him and "ve~"-ing. "Ja. And I am sure you will play very well."

"Ve~! Grazie, Doitsu!" And Feliciano hugged Ludwig even tighter. "I'll go make some pasta to celebrate, ve~" The Italian got up and bounced his way into the kitchen, even happier than usual.

Ludwig sighed. He will just have to find a way to deal.


Antonio was in the kitchen cooking for his tomatito (earlier in the game his corazón had said, "Chigi! I am trying to watch my team beat the sopracciglio bastardo! I'm trying to focus! Va via!" His tomate had the cutest habit of slipping into Italian when he was nervous~). When he had finished cooking his paella (mmm~), the Spaniard heard cheering coming from their TV room, followed no more than ten seconds later by some pretty violent swearing in Italian. Antonio came out of the kitchen with his paella, "¿Qué pasó, mi tomate? ¿Ganaste?"

Lovino rolled his eyes. "Si, idiota. What did you think the cheering was for?"

"Well then, what was the swearing for, mi amor?" Antonio asked.

Lovino grimaced. "Ora devo giocare contro il bastardo mangiapatate."


A/N: I apologize for any errors in the Italian. It's the only language in here that I don't speak any of... (Many thanks to whomever it was who corrected my Italian!)

I think most of the translations are either pretty easy or not important, but for the others:

sopracciglio -eyebrow

Va via! -Go Away! (Italian)

¿Qué pasó, mi tomate? ¿Ganaste? -What happened, my tomato? Did you win? (Spanish)

Ora devo giocare contro il bastardo mangiapatate. -Now I have to play against the potato bastard. (Italian)

Reviews would be amazing! ^.^