Another request (By Smooth Flying), this time for Mochis. Honestly this one is kinda short and shitty but I wanted to get it up sooner rather than later, because I'm gonna be super busy packing and stuff tomorrow.

Enjoy! ;)

Estonia had been noticing things lately, about some of the little pounded rice-ball creatures, in that they'd been acting strangely. Well, he said lately, it had been going on for a while, but it had only just gotten to the point where it was getting weird.

The one with the little hat and the aloof expression had been really rather fond of the one with that weird little skirt thing. This was strange only because the aloof one with the hat usually kept to itself, with the occasional moment of bonding with some of the others, but never as much as it was with the skirt-ed one as of late, not while he knew he was looking anyway. It didn't help that the skirt-ed one was usually the same.

He frowned at the two as they cuddled up to each other, settled happily in a pillow, "What is up with you two?" he asked, not that they acknowledged him at all.

He sighed, sitting down in front of them as they continued to snuggle. He couldn't deny it was rather cute, the two of them making happy squeaky noises occasionally, squishing into each other happily. With a rather sudden thought, he pulled out his phone and snapped a picture of the two, deciding the sight was blog-worthy, because if he didn't get a few 'aw's out of it then he wasn't sure he ever would.

America heard a bing from his computer and hopped over it to see what it was. He smiled a little when he saw that Estonia updated his blog, and clicked to open the post. When he saw what it was he laughed out loud, great barrelling laughter, the kind his boss scolded him for.

When he finally calmed down he looked at the picture again, of what was clearly England's mochi creature and Scotland's mochi creature cuddled up happily, practically radiating happiness. He supposed it was kinda cute, in a weird 'that's my dad and my uncle' kind of way.

A little reluctantly he picked up his phone, deciding he should probably tell England that his and Scotland's secret was no longer safe, and that they should probably prepare for a shitstorm when the next meeting began.

England frowned, looking over to his vibrating phone all the way on the other side of the room.

"Ignore it," came the heavy Scottish grumble from his lap, "I'm way too comfortable."

England sighed, settling back on the sofa, "Fine, but if that's the PM calling to tell me that London is being attacked by Dalek's then it's on your head."

"You're such a nerd."

"You can recite the entire speech from Braveheart."

"And you can mouth along with every episode of Eastenders."

England chuckled as Scotland groaned and tucked his head into his stomach, his arms tightening around his waist, "Sleepy, dear?"

"No," Scotland replied drowsily, "Just incredibly comfortable."

England smiled at the thoroughly endearing sight, running a hand gently through the other's hair. They stayed like that for a while, until England was forced to get up due to the ever increasing volume of his stomach.

On his way to the kitchen, ignoring the groaning Scotland, he picked up his phone, frowning at the three missed call from America and the one text that simply read:

Dude, good luck at the next meeting. Don't say I didn't try to warn you.

Well, that was ominous...