Disclaimer: I don't own Hetalia. Are you surprised?

"Whoo-hoo!" Lovino cheered as he jumped up off of the couch. They did it! He and his fratellino beat the potato bastard!

"¡Felicidades, Lovi!" Antonio said. His Lovi looked so happy! And that of course made him happy, too.

"We won, we won, we won, we won, we won!" the normally grumpy Italian chanted while doing a bit of a victory dance.

Antonio grinned. Then, he thought of something. "Hey, Lovi, that means you're going to play my team on Sunday."

Lovino looked at him. "So? I'll start worrying about that tomorrow! All that matters right now is that il bastardo mangiopatate perso!"

Antonio laughed. His tomate could be so funny sometimes.

"Ve~!" Feli cried as the Italians won again. "Doitsu! Doitsu! Did you see?"

"Ja, Feliciano," the German said, trying not to show the disappointment on his face. How could he have not seen that? This was supposed to be his team's year! They should have at least made it to the finals, if not win the entire thing. But, he had to try and be happy for Feli. That Italian could sense unhappiness better than his dogs could smell fresh meat.

"Ve~, but, Ludwig, Germany played really well, too," the Italian insisted.

So Feliciano could tell how the German was feeling. Ludwig wasn't all too surprised by that, really. "Danke."

"I know! Ve~, I'll go cook something just for you to make you feel better!" And with that, Feli "ve~"-ed his way into the kitchen.

Ludwig sighed and ran a hand through his hair. Even though losing felt bad enough, he knew Feli's twin brother won't let him live it down. His cell phone rang and he sighed again. Romano must be calling to rub it in his face already. He picked it up. "Hallo?"

"Westen!" the voice on the other side yelled.

"Ja, Bruder?" Ludwig asked.

"How could you lose? You're my awesome baby Bruder and I thought your team this year was too awesome to lose!" Gilbert demanded.

"I don't feel like talking about it, Osten," Ludwig said.

"Hmph. Fine. I was just being your awesome big Bruder you could come and talk to, don't mind the awesome me," Gilbert said, his last comment dripping with sarcasm.

"Where are you anyway?" Ludwig asked.

"A bar with a few other nations," Gilbert said. "I think Bulgaria got drunk off his ass, he's singing something about vampires drinking beer on the ceiling.*"

"Ja, well, if you get drunk just take a cab straight home. I don't feel like bailing you out right now," Ludwig said.

"Fine, Bruder. Spoil my fun, why don't you. Tschüss." And then Gilbert hung up on him.

Ludwig put his phone back in his pocket and tried to watch the post-game interviews of the coaches and players. He couldn't say he wasn't relieved when Feli was done cooking pasta (what else would he have cooked, really?). He walked into the kitchen and Feli put a plate of pasta in front of him that looked like a bunch of lumps with tomato sauce. It still looked and smelled delicious, but it definitely looked different from what Feliciano normally made.

"Ta-dah!" the Italian said as he sat down with his own plate. "I made you Gnocchi!"

"Danke, Feliciano."

"Do you know why I made this special, just for you?" Feli asked.

Ludwig shook his head.

"Gnocchi is made with potatoes!"

Ludwig couldn't help but smile, at least a little bit.

A/N: so fluffy, but it was all in good fun! and Prussia made an (awesome) appearance!

Sorry that I posted this later than usual, but I got distracted looking at pokemon gijinka on dA... ^^;

* so, this may seem kind of random, but the first person who can tell me why bulgaria was singing about vampires drinking beer on the ceiling gets a gift fic! any paring! any universe! good luck!

Translations:

il bastardo mangiopatate perso -the potato bastard lost (Italian)

Tschüss -bye (German)

Reviews and constructive criticisms are ever so welcome!