Inspired Thrift Shop by Macklemore and Ryan Lewis.

Thrift Shop

"Oh my god, oh my god! Matthew! Matthew, look! Look! Matthew! Matthew! Matthew!"

Canada sighed and lowered the novel in his hands. It was a collection of illustrated Inuit stories written in Inuktitut.

"What?"

"Look!"

Canada blinked. Prussia was standing in front of him, bouncing up and down and holding a handful of five dollar bills. He was grinning like an idiot.

"Uh… Yes. Money. It's very nice. Congratulations."

"No," he spun his arms in circles, "I have twenty dollars! Do you know what this means?"

"… That you checked the couch cushions?"

"No! It means that we can go to the thrift shop!"

Canada snapped the novel closed with a clean 'crack' and raised an eyebrow.

"You want to go to the thrift shop?"

"Yes!"

Canada snorted.

"No way."

"C'mon, Matthew…" Prussia whined.

"No."

"Where's your sense of adventure?"

"Oh," he replied dryly, "I must have left it in my other coat. You know, my straight jacket."

"Okay, first of all," Prussia sat in his lap and held up a finger, "Straight jackets do not have pockets. I should know."

"Mmhmm." Canada set the novel on the coffee table and wrapped his arms around the other nation. Prussia held up a second finger.

"Secondly, we can buy you a new coat!"

Canada could not help but laugh at his enthusiasm even as he shook his head.

"Gilbert, I don't need a new coat. Or a used one either."

"C'mon. It'll be fun!"

"What part of picking through piles of soiled clothing is 'fun'?"

"Uhm, all of it? Duh."

"I don't want to go."

"But I do! C'mon! Let's go!"

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Mattheeew! Please? C'mon! Please, please, please, please, please, please, pleeease?"

Canada tried to plug his ears but Prussia would not let him. He held onto his wrists and clapped his hands together against his will, making even more noise as he moaned.

"Argh! Fine, yes! We'll go tomorrow."

"Now, now, now…!"

Canada looked over the thrift shop with a critical eye less than an hour later. It was just as he feared with racks of mismatched clothes and oversized buckets of odds and ends. A couple of old women drifted through the not-quite-aisles and pawed through the articles with terse frowns.

The paint was peeling and the lightbulbs were flickering and the cashier looked as if she would rather be anywhere else.

Canada felt the same way.

"… I hate you," he mumbled.

"Look, Simba!" Prussia swept his hand over the mess. "Everything the light touches is cheap!"

"My name is Matthew and I still hate you…"

"Bah!" Prussia cackled and threw an arm over his shoulder, dragging him towards one of the bins. "How could you possibly hate me?! I'm adorable!"

Canada rolled his eyes for what felt like the thousandth time that afternoon. It was par for the course when hanging out with Prussia.

"It's a challenge but, somehow, I manage it," he mumbled. Prussia stopped choking him in order to dive into the bucket. His elbows disappeared beneath the scarves and hats and he still could not touch the bottom.

He pulled out an awful paisley scarf in maroon and purple. He beamed and wound it around his neck, showing it off with an over-the-top flamboyant spin. Canada snorted.

"Now I'm stylin'."

"You wish."

"Oh, look over there! C'mon!"

Canada glanced upwards, begging for divine intervention, but there was none to be found. He followed Prussia.

"Oh my god! Suspenders and bow ties! A cravat!"

Prussia picked through the bow ties, finding a red one and tying it around Canada's neck with a practiced motion. He made a 'voila' gesture when he was done.

Canada frowned and plucked at the bow tie.

"A bow tie? Really?"

"Hey, bow ties are cool."

"Sure…"

Prussia glanced over the piles of clothing, ignoring his sarcasm with ease. His eyes lit up as they landed on a rack of worn coats.

"Ooh! Look!"

Canada sighed as he trailed after him.

"This is stupid…"

"No, this is fucking awesome!"

Prussia held up a horrendous fur coat in leopard print. It was bare in patches and several sizes too large. The collar was large and unattractive.

"Oh dear… That's hideous…"

Prussia cocked his head to the side with a sweet, confused expression.

"So, you don't want it…?"

"No." Canada glared at the offending article of clothing. He wanted it to burst into sudden, inexplicable flames. "No, not at all."

"Wicked!" Prussia put it on and struck a pose. He admired himself in the mirror. "More for me then. Man, I look incredible!"

Canada opened his mouth to say something but closed it again. If it made Prussia happy, then it was indeed 'awesome'. It was that simple.

He smiled.

"Here, you're missing something…" Canada reached behind him and grabbed a faded wedding veil with a dozen holes. He set it on Prussia's head and laughed when he pursed his lips to blow Canada a kiss.

Prussia handed him a monocle and a pair of high heels. He shrugged and put them on.

He gave Prussia a purple handbag to go with his scarf.

The two of them were laughing uncontrollably now, bent over and slapping each other on the back. It was amazing how much joy twenty dollars had brought them…

Apparently, all you needed was a thrift shop and a good friend.

Author's Notes:

This was ridiculously fun to write. Please tell me I am not the only person who thinks that this song was made for someone like Prussia. America would be just as bad, I think. Maybe that's why Canada refused to go.

Poland, on the other hand, would not be caught dead in a thrift shop.

Is it wrong that I want someone to draw this…? It probably is...

I used to shop in thrift stores all the time when I was younger because my family was poor. We are better off now but I still enjoy perusing from time to time. It's remarkable what you can find. That said, some items should not be donated to Bedbugs and Beyond.

I think that Canada would be fluent in Inuktitut, as well as other native languages. The Canadian Inuit dialect is different from the dialects spoken by the Inupiat in Alaska and the Inuktun of Greenland. I spent much of my childhood reading Inuit stories and legends because my grandparents used to live up north, as well as my uncle. I also spent two years working at an Inuit art gallery.

All of my love, and a big thank you for the kind words and thoughts. You guys know who you are. Oh, and points for the 'bow ties' reference.