So. I accidentally skipped a month of updating AND I forgot to add in like half the translations for the last chapter. I honestly sometimes question how I function in society (/.-)

But hey, happy new year!

The summer heat was soon blown away by autumn breezes as August turned to September and September became October.

Romano and Spain weren't quite living together, yet switched back and forth between their homes. First, they spent a month in Barcelona and then the next two months in Rome. Modern technology made it possible for them to continue working without needing them to be physically in their respective countries.

It was a system they were still getting used to.

At least they attended the World Meetings together and shared a hotel room.

The first World Meeting they attended after America's disastrous party was awkward…to put it lightly.

If the tension wasn't coming from what happened at the party, then it was coming from the sore losers from the FIFA World Cup (why people didn't just let it go was a total mystery).

Spain was glaring at Netherlands; Netherlands was occasionally throwing cold looks at Spain; Romano and Spain were glaring at an oblivious America; Russia's purple aura flared every time Romano and Spain were in his sight despite his 'innocent' smiles; Japan was studiously avoiding direct eye contact with everyone; Greece and his cats were throwing frowns at Spain; Switzerland was giving England death glares whenever the Brit even looked at Liechtenstein, inadvertently or otherwise; Prussia narrowed his eyes at France when the Frenchman offered Canada a greeting.

It wasn't until Korea broke the tension by announcing that 'tension was invented in China, da-ze~' that things went back to normal. After a lot of shouting, arguing, and generally nothing getting done, the meeting came to a conclusion.

Romano had been annoyed when Japan approached him to apologize for the party and yelled at him for 'wasting his time apologizing for shit that wasn't his fault.' He calmed down when Spain apologized to Japan for making him uncomfortable with the kiss; Japan accepted the apology with a bow and a polite request that he not do it again.

Spain had chuckled, promised he wouldn't, and clapped Japan on the back. The reserved nation likely wouldn't passed out from the overwhelming social interaction if Greece hadn't rescued him.

America had approached Romano, loudly apologizing and offering to treat him to lunch, knowing a 'wicked cool burger joint' nearby.

The younger nation was lucky Russia had whisked him away before Romano could have a chance to yell (more) at him or Spain could wield his battle axe.

All in all, it could've gone worse.

The next several World Meetings had gotten easier after that.

Romano kept his distance from Netherlands for a while. He texted the Dutchman to let him know that he and Spain had worked things out and (very reluctantly) apologized for ignoring him. Netherlands was surprisingly understanding about his silence and surprisingly civil about him and Spain's status, expressing that he was 'pleased that they had gotten past their lover's spat.'

If it were up to Spain, Romano would never talk to Netherlands again, but that wasn't possible. Logically speaking, their countries had to discuss international affairs and dealings. Irrationally speaking, the two were familiar and friendly with one another; even if neither were willing to admit it, they appreciated each other's companionship since neither had an easy time developing such a thing with others.

Netherlands called it a 'mutually beneficial association.' Romano would say that he 'tolerated that pot-smoking bastard because he wasn't as annoying as the others.'

Others could call it a friendship.

Regardless, Spain didn't care for it.

Despite Romano's apology and Spain's forgiveness, Spain couldn't deny the unpleasant feelings that stirred within him whenever Romano spoke to Netherlands and vice versa. Even though he believed Romano when he said that he felt nothing for Netherlands, Spain couldn't be sure how the Dutchman felt about the Italian.

Romano, France, and Prussia were resolute in their belief that Netherlands didn't have romantic feelings for the former, but something within Spain couldn't accept it.

It came to a head on a crisp October afternoon. The couple was living in Rome for the month and were spending their day getting paperwork done. Romano kept Spain from getting too distracted while Spain kept Romano from getting too frustrated.

At some point, a phone call took place between Romano and Netherlands. What should've been a minute-long conversation that confirmed a meeting between the two turned into a half an hour conversation about gardening.

Spain wasn't pleased with this, yet tried keeping his distaste to himself as he petted Silvia and tried focusing on his work.

He should've known better than to try and keep things from his Roma.

"Alright," Romano announced after hanging up the phone. "This bullshit needs to stop!"

"What bullshit, Roma?"

Romano pointed to Spain's face. "That bullshit! You need to stop with the angry and pouty faces whenever I talk to the pot bastard! It's getting annoying, and your face looks better when it's smiling and happy!"

There was a brief moment of silence before Spain smiled and said, "Aw~ does mi tomate care about Boss's happiness? How cute~!"

"Shut up and don't change the subject, jerk!" Despite his glare, Lovi's cheeks were lightly tinted red. Spain had to resist the urge to pinch them. "You can't keep making those stupid faces around the pot bastard! He and I are going to talk whether you like it or not!" At Spain's frown, Romano hurriedly added, "Just talk, idiota! Even if I didn't tolerate that jerk, he and I still have business with our countries! So, you need to get used to it and stop making those faces!"

There was a moment of quiet where Silvia looked between the two before Spain caved first and sighed. "I'm sorry, Lovi. I'll try to stop making those faces."

Romano then surprised him by sighing and shaking his head. "I…I'm sorry, too. I know you never really liked Netherlands, and my bullshit stunt didn't help things." His Italian raised up a hand before Spain could reassure him that he was forgiven for that. "Even so, you will have to get used to it. I…don't want to have to cut that bastard off and leave international affairs to Veneziano…b-but I will…if it really bothers you and you can't get used to it."

Spain was touched by the sentiment, especially seeing how much of a struggle it was for Romano to offer this at all. Although it would easy to take him up on this, Spain knew it wouldn't be right of him.

He got up and hugged his Roma in gratitude. "No, mi querido," he said reluctantly. "I can't ask that of you. You wouldn't ask that of me and mis amigos, so I wouldn't ask that of you and yours…even if it's that perro."

Romano relaxed his shoulders and loosely wrapped his arms around Spain's waist. "He's not a dog, and he's not my friend." Spain smiled at his denial. "And no, I wouldn't ask you to drop those loser friends although our lives would be so much easier if you did." The Spaniard laughed and nuzzled his Italian's hair. "So, I'd like to think you'll stop making the faces now that we've had this stupid talk, but I know you."

Spain grimaced sheepishly. "Sorry, Roma. I can't help it. I don't want to lose you to him, or for him to steal you from me."

"Not going to happen," Romano muttered. "He's boring and he smells bad and the bastard hasn't smiled even once since we've known him. The only reason I even tolerate him is because he's not as stupid or annoying as the other nations…not that that's a high bar to climb over!"

Spain chuckled and began gently swaying them in place. "I believe you, mi corazón."

"You'd better. And besides…" Spain felt Romano heat up from where he held his novio. "You're the only one for me anyways and like hell I'm going to settle for less."

"Aw Lovi~!" Spain hugged him closer before pulling away to press kisses onto Romano's flushed face. "You're the only one I'll ever want too, ¡mi único~! You're the only one who'll ever have my heart~!"

"Sh-Shut up!" Romano shoved Spain off of him, avoiding his gaze out of embarrassment. Spain could still tell that he was secretly pleased, though. "We're getting off track again! My point is that you don't have to like Netherlands, but you need to get used to him! Can you just…do that for me…jerk?"

Spain couldn't help softening when Romano went from impassioned to humble within seconds. He cupped his lover's warm cheeks to press a brief kiss to his lips. "I'll do my best, mi amor~ It, uh, it won't be easy, but I'll try and keep my frown-y faces to myself at the next meeting."

"Great," Romano said, the tiniest hint of a smile on his lips. "Soon, you two will be besties, and we'll be having him over for dinner in no time."

"Who will we be having over for dinner~?"

Spain and Romano turned to the cheery voice and saw Italy smiling at them in the doorway. Germany was standing behind him, looking uncomfortable as he held a few bags of groceries.

Spain sometimes saw Italy when he came over, but usually the bubbly brunette was at Germany's place. He was a bit surprised to see both of them here for once, but he didn't mind. The more the merrier~!

Romano scowled and snapped, "What the hell did I say about eavesdropping, bastard?! You don't go pulling that shit on anyone but especially not on me!"

Italy disregarded this as he asked, "So, who's coming over for dinner~? Germany and I picked up a lot of stuff, but we can go back to the market if we need more!"

"No one's coming over!" Romano shouted the same time Spain replied, "Netherlands."

Somehow, Italy only heard him. "Ve~ Netherlands? Really?"

Even Germany seemed surprised. "I thought the two of you didn't get along."

"We don't," Spain admitted, oblivious to Romano's squawk of anger. "But since he and Lovi are friends, I need to learn to get used to him."

"Ohhh~!" Italy nodded in understanding. "So, if we have him over for dinner, you two will learn to be friends and then we'll all be good friends!"

Whereas Spain was cheered by Italy's optimism, his tomate was just annoyed. "What's this 'we' stuff, jerk?! Even if Toni and I did have Netherlands over, you wouldn't be a part of it since it's none of your business! But since we're not-"

"But fratello~!" Italy interrupted just as Spain glomped his lovely Italian for calling him 'Toni.' "You and Spain can't host dinner for Netherlands by yourselves! That'd be awkward, ve~! You should let me and Germany be there to help you~!"

"Why are you roping me into this?!" Germany roared just as Romano snapped, "Why are you roping him into this?!"

"Say, that's not a bad idea, Ita-chan," Spain mused as he hugged his Roma close, barely registering the other's flying fists and cursing. "If you and Germany joined us, it wouldn't be so awkward! In fact, I should invite Belgium too so that there isn't a fifth wheel!"

"That's a great idea~!" Italy exclaimed. "We'll make a feast, and you and Netherlands will be friends in no time~!"

"Oh~! I should invite my amigos so that Lovi can get closer to them~! What do you think, Roma~?! You can even invite your blondie friend so that it can be like one big dinner among amigos~!"

"Ve~! That sounds like so much fun~! I'll call up Big Brother France right now~!" Italy excited grabbed his phone and skipped off into the living room.

"Verdammt," Germany swore. "Italy!"

"Hey, Germany? Can you call up Prussia and let him know to come over? He can call up the blondie while I call up Belgium~" Spain turned away from the German's look of disbelief to turn to his Lovi. "And Roma, you could put away the groceries and see if we still need anything. I don't think your brother or Germany bought a piñata, but that's okay! I can buy one with lots of candy~! Aren't you excited~?!"

Romano punched him in the face.

{~/~/~}

It took a long time for Romano to get on board with this plan.

It was a stupid plan, but it was going to happen anyways.

After spending several hours yelling at everyone (even the potato breath, though it wasn't his idea), Romano begrudgingly agreed to the get-together after Italy burst into tears and Spain pouted up a storm.

No, it wasn't because he was going soft or that, deep down, he hoped this would work. It's just he hated it when Veneziano cried (because it was annoying) and he wasn't lying to Spain when he said that he didn't like Spain's pouty or angry face (both were just such an unnatural look on him).

Romano loathed that the potato bastard was actually on his side on all of this. He thought that a dinner party would only 'encourage chaos,' but the wurst-sucking jerk caved once Feli began the waterworks.

What a wuss.

So, the dinner party thing was scheduled for the following week, and, unfortunately, all the invited nations agreed to come.

Romano grumbled about the stupidity of the plan even an hour before everyone was set to arrive.

"This is a disaster waiting to happen," Romano grumbled as he vented his frustration by pounding into the dough set before him.

Italy looked stricken. "Ve~ Romano! Don't do that or the pizza crust will be all thin and lumpy!"

Romano threw the dough at him, annoyed when the jerk actually caught it and smoothed it out. "I'll make the crust however I want to! This is all your fault! Why did you rope me into this?!"

"Because we're on a mission in the name of friendship!"

Germany deftly caught the can of olives Romano chucked at Italy. "Although I understand your concerns, Romano, I-"

"I'm not asking for your opinion, potato breath!"

When Romano felt arms wrap around his waist, he attempted to elbow Spain away. His Spaniard, however, pressed kisses onto the back of his neck. "Relax, mi tomate lindo. Everything will work out just fine~"

The kisses were distracting Romano from his well-deserved anger. "I-I'm not a tomato, y-you jerk!"

"No, you're my Lovi~!"

"Dipshit!" Romano shoved him off and glared when Veneziano cooed. "Shut up! I'm being serious! I don't think our insurance will cover our house if it's destroyed!"

"Then you can come live with me while Ita-chan goes to live with Germany," Spain cheerfully proposed, to Romano's ire.

"Say what?!"

"I doubt things will get that far," Germany hurriedly said, cheeks tinted a light, embarrassed pink. "The worst that'll happen will likely be the mess mein bruder and his hooligan friends leave behind."

"I swear if these asshats make a mess in my home, then I'll bring in the garden hose and spray them all to Switzerland!"

While Toni and Feli startled at the thought, the walking-talking potato lightly shook his head. "That won't be necessary. Part of why I'm staying is to ensure there is a semblance of order…and to put out any fires."

"With your stupid brother, my stupid brother, and the wine bastard around, there won't be any order!"

"My point exactly. But I can at least try. I'm thinking between deine und meine yelling, these Dummköpfe might actually behave."

Shitty German aside, it was weird as shit to be on the same page as the macho potato. Romano hurriedly shoved a couple of the finished pizzas at him. "Well, don't just stand there, jerk! Make yourself useful and put these in the oven! Feli! Make sure this idiota puts the oven on the right setting!"

"Yes sir!" Italy cheered as he grabbed Germany and happily towed him to the kitchen.

Once they were alone, Spain turned and grinned at Romano. "My Lovi is so cute when he acts like the boss!"

Romano put his entire hand against his boyfriend's face when the Spaniard tried going in for a hug. "Hold on, bastardo! I'm not done yet!"

Spain pulled away and somehow looked even more excited as he managed to catch him around the waist. "Ooh~ Is mi amante hermoso going to order me around? Es muy caliente when my Lovi takes charge and shows me who's boss, ¿sí?"

Romano blushed, especially when those strong, calloused hands stroked his hipbones and slipped a bit under his shirt. Damn this bastard and his infuriating handsomeness meant to distract innocent Italian bad asses!

"H-Hey!" Romano shoved away his Spanish lover before him and his stupid handsome face and his stupid gorgeous eyes could get him off track. "I'm being serious, jerk! I need you to listen to me for a second!"

"Hm, okay~" Spain was looking at him with hooded eyes that strayed to the Italian's errant curl when it briefly straightened up.

Romano swatted his hand away when it went for that thrice-damned curl. "Hey! You're going to be nice to Netherlands, capisce?"

Unfortunately (err, fortunately), Spain's bedroom eyes immediately disappeared and was replaced with a displeased frown (on second thought, that is unfortunate).

"Oh right. He's coming isn't he…"

"You're damn right he is! And you better be nice! You two don't have to be bosom buddies, but you'd better learn to tolerate that pot-smoking bastard! He's my friend, and I don't need you scaring him off because like hell I'm going to waste my time and make new ones! Chigi, it's hard enough making friends at all as it is!"

Well, shit. That wasn't supposed to come out…

Spain's look of distaste softened as he wrapped Romano in his arms for a gentle hug. Since it was a waste of time to struggle, Lovino stayed where he was (and so what if he rested his chin against the tomato bastard's shoulder!).

They stayed like that for a bit before Spain murmured, "Is the perro really a friend of yours, Roma?"

Romano lightly scoffed and pulled away, eyes avoiding Spain's. "He…He's not that much of a dumb ass, so I tolerate his company…"

Spain sighed. "So he is. Okay, mi amor, I'll be…simpático to him." It sounded like it was painful for him to say so.

"Good…because I won't hesitate to hose you too if you're not at least civil."

"Aye dios míos, why did I agree to this…? Are you sure you can't just ever talk to him again…?"

"Will you never talk to your perverted friends again?" Spain seemed horrified at the thought. "Yeah, that's what I thought. We've been over this. The pot bastard is just a friend, and I will not stop talking to him if you ever ask…like how you won't stop getting stupidly drunk with those assholes you call your friends if I asked…which I won't."

Spain lightly chuckled and rubbed the back of his head. "Sí, you're right, mi corazón. I guess I'll just have to…tolerate Netherlands since he's your amigo."

Romano wryly smirked. "I knew I'd rub off on you sometime." Spain genuinely chuckled this time. "Besides, we'll have Belgium and Canada to balance things out. You've always been friends with Emma, and you seem to like Matteo alright."

"Oh, ¡sí! It'll be great having them around! And mis amigos, too! It's possible this day won't suck after all!"

Romano didn't have to fake a smile for too long since Spain picked him up and spun him around. Right…the French bastard and potato bastard #2 are coming, too. Whoop-de-fucking-do.

[…]

Their first guest arrived about an hour later. The Italian brothers, Germany, and Spain had just finished majority of the cooking and were putting some of the drinks in the fridge.

Veneziano was the one who skipped over and answered the door with a cheery "ciao!"

Romano tried listening out to hear who it was, but heard nothing…which was unusual since his fratello was loud as hell. Wondering if that dumb ass wandered out the door again, Lovino groaned and stomped over.

The door was wide open, but Italy was peering out it with confusion. When he noticed that Romano had joined him, he began animatedly waving out the door. "Ve~ Big Brother! I heard the doorbell, but there's no one here! Do you think someone did a ding-dong-ditch?!"

"U-U-Uh…I'm right here…"

Italy screeched when Canada appeared and immediately clung to Romano. "Waagh! A ghost! Please don't haunt me! I don't think I could take that! I mean, I can't take a lot of things, but I really don't think I can take a haunting! Besides, I'm a virgin and ghosts aren't supposed to haunt virgins, right?! Don't haunt me, haunt my big brother instead! He's not a virgin anymore!"

"Don't go announcing that, asshat!" Romano shouted and shoved his idiot brother off of him who merely scurried behind him. "And that's Canada, you dipshit! I already told you he'd be coming!" Then he looked to a dumbfounded maple bastard. "Well, don't just stand there! Get in here!"

Nearly dropping the boxes in his hands in his haste, Canada scurried in. "Um…hi, Romano. Hi, Italy." He offered a shy smile and a wave. "S-Sorry for the scare…"

"Ve~?" Italy poked his head from behind his brother. He studied Canada for a bit before he beamed. "Oh! Ciao! Wow, you seem really nice, Mr. Ghost! You don't seem so scary after all!"

"U-Um, thanks, I guess…"

"Don't encourage him," Romano griped. "In fact, if my stupid fratello annoys you, then you have my permission to punch and or strangle him."

Whereas Canada looked startled by the suggestion, Italy looked confused. "Ve~? But Lovi, how can this ghost strangle me if he can't touch me? His hands would go right through me." Then he lightly chuckled. "Silly fratello. Ghosts can't touch people."

"He's not a ghost, idiota! He's a country like us!" Romano repeatedly poked Canada's chest to prove it, getting him to flush. "See! Not a fucking ghost!"

Italy then poked the maple bastard, to which the blonde flushed darker, and looked awed. "Oh~ I guess you are real, Mr. Ghost! Ve~ how cool!"

Romano swatted Italy's hand away when it looked like the maple bastard might pass out in his fluster. "The offer still stands, Matteo. I'd take it for the sake of your sanity."

Canada regained himself and shook his head. "Uh, no thank you…" Then he cleared his throat and held up the boxes in his hands. "U-Um, I hope you don't mind, but I brought homemade Saskatoon berry pies and butter tarts. B-But I won't be too offended if you guys don't want them…"

"Ooh~ Pies!" Italy snatched the top box and began peering inside. "Grazie, Mr. Ghost!" Then he tackled Canada in a hug, getting the red to return before it had truly left.

Groaning at how embarrassing his little brother was (Italians are supposed to be macho!), Romano yanked Italy off. "His name is Canada, idiota! I just said he wasn't a ghost!"

"Okay~!"

Romano took the remaining boxes and shoved them at Feli while Canada caught his breath. "Go put these away! We'll eat them after lunch!"

"Okay~! Germany! Big Brother Spain! Canada is here!" Italy shouted as he skipped back to the kitchen.

Fucking ditz…at least he remembered Matteo's name.

Even the maple bastard seemed a bit stunned. "Huh…he remembered my name. I wonder how long that'll last."

"I'll punch him each time he forgets. He'll figure it out in no time."

Canada seemed to think he wasn't being serious because he nervously chuckled.

"¡Mi amigo! You're here!" The poor maple bastard was, once again, glomped and nearly tackled down. Spain was, of course, clueless to Canada's startled yelp and blushing face as he hugged the other nation. "It is so good to see the godfather of me and Lovi's baby! ¿Qué tal, blondie?"

"U-U-Uh, h-hello to you too, Spain." Matteo lightly smiled. "I'm, um, good. How are-"

"Holy Scheiße! You guys have a baby?!" Romano already felt a headache coming on now that the albino bastard had shown up.

Potato bastard #2 was standing in the doorway and looking between him and Spain with wide eyes, a case of shitty German beer in his hands. "Since when did Romano get pregnant?!"

Lovino turned red when the dumb ass's freaky red eyes scanned his stomach. "I'm not pregnant, bastardo!"

"Oh…is Toni pregnant then?" He tried to see Spain's stomach but couldn't while he was still clinging to Canada. "Wow, didn't know you had it in you, Romano. Good on ya!" Prussia beamed and offered him a thumb's up. "Just don't forget to name the kid after the Awesome Me!" Then he frowned. "Wait, why aren't I the godfather?! Birdie's cool and all, but I should've been your guys' first choice!"

"There's no baby, dipshit!" Romano snapped. "And even if there was, like hell we'd let it anywhere near you!"

While Prussia squawked in annoyance, Spain looked down at his stomach with confusion then disappointment. "Oh, there's no baby? What a shame."

Despite that he was still being clung to by the ditzy Spaniard, Canada managed to wiggle an arm free to pat him on the shoulder. "Maybe next time, eh?"

Romano groaned when Spain nodded morosely. As usual, I'm surrounded by idiots.

{~/~/~}

As usual, I'm surrounded by smiles. Spain added his own smile to the bunch as Ita-chan handed out glasses of alcohol, babbling about how happy he was to have people over.

And truly, it was a marvelous thing.

Once they cleared up the thing with the baby (Spain happily held up Silvia as indication…Prussia still wanted the godfather title), France arrived not too long after. The Frenchman offered everyone a hug and a kiss on a cheek, except for Romano who threatened to punch him (which Spain was perfectly fine with…no one kissed his amorcito) and Germany who yelled at him before France could look his way.

Everything was off to a great start.

Then the doorbell rang.

Spain's good feelings vanished when Romano opened the door and let in Belgium and her perro brother. He and Netherlands immediately scowled at each other as the room became as cold as Russia's home.

"U-U-Um…" Belgium was the first to break the sudden awkward silence. "I brought waffles!" She held up a large plate of the steaming pastry.

"Ooh~ waffles!" Ita-chan exclaimed. "They smell so yummy!"

"I'll take that to the kitchen for you," Germany offered.

"Thank you!" Belgium chirped. "And thank you for inviting us! Netherlands and I have been looking forward to this, haven't we, big brother?!"

"I won't eat waffles with Spain," Netherlands declared as he made a move to leave.

Spain would have been glad to see him go, but Belgium dragged him back in and his Roma slammed the door behind him.

"Don't chicken out, bastard!"

"I'm not chickening out-"

"I should've brought chicken to go with my waffles…or the syrup! Lars, why didn't you remind me?!"

"…Because I didn't plan to have waffles or chicken with Spain."

"U-Um, I brought some of my own syrup from home…if that's okay, eh."

"Birdie, it would've been a crime if you hadn't brought the awesomeness that is maple syrup!"

"Ve~ I want some maple syrup, too!"

"Eh?!"

"Italy! Stop clinging to, um, that unnamed country! You're going to knock the both of you down!"

Spain tried to calm himself while the shouting commenced. As much as he didn't want Netherlands around, he promised his Lovi that he would try to make nice with him.

Looking at his tomate now, he saw that Romano was both annoyed and resigned to the chaos of their fellow nations. In fact, he looked ready to bring the hose after all…

Suddenly, a hand clasped his shoulder. France was giving him a sympathetic look. "So, it begins, huh, mon ami?"

Spain gave another distasteful look at Netherlands and wearily sighed. "Sí. Hopefully things don't go too wrong."

Shorter chapter this time. In my defense, this was growing long (like 15,000+ words long), and I felt like I had to cut it off somewhere.

Hopefully I'll get the chapter out by next month. Not going to lie; I'm losing a bit of steam here :/ I think I used it all up on my other fic.

Wish me luck!

Translations:

Spanish

mi tomate- my tomato

mi querido- my dear

mis amigos- my friends

perro- dog

mi corazón- my heart

novio- boyfriend

¡mi único~!- my one and only!

mi amor- my love

mi tomate lindo- my cute tomato

mi amante hermoso- my handsome lover

Es muy caliente- It's very hot

¿sí?- yes?

simpático- nice

Aye dios míos- Oh my god

Qué tal- What's up?

amorcito- little love

Italian

idiota- idiot

fratello- brother

bastardo- bastard

Chigi- Fuck

ciao- hello

Grazie- Thank you

German/Prussian

Verdammt- Damn it

mein bruder- my brother

deine und meine- yours and my

Dummköpfe- idiots

Scheiße- Shit

French

mon ami- my friend