I don't know what my feelings are doing to me now (Gerita; Pafp; Semi-advanced)

This is an archived version of FeralFront. While you can surf through all the content that was ever created on FeralFront, no new content can be created.
If you'd like some free FeralFront memorabilia to look back on fondly, see this thread from Dynamo (if this message is still here, we still have memorabilia): https://feralfront.com/thread/2669184-free-feralfront-memorabilia/.

    Rules:
    1. Cussing is allowed
    2. More than three sentences a post
    3. Keep this thread alive c:
    4. I'm open to new plot ideas


    IC; Italy was sleeping in, not bothering to get up from his bed. He was hugging his pillow in his sleep, muttering things about pasta and he rolled over on his side, still hugging the fluffy pillow. He was very tired from his training yesterday and since he wasn't the bravest, he wasn't sure he was cut out for it. But still, he loved to hang out with Germany and that made his day a lot (well, except pasta of course).

    Alright XD


    There was a light knock on the door before a tall figure slunk trough the room, grabbing his cross necklace from the bedside table. Germany looked at Italy, icy eyes dulling in exhaustion. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn't rid his bed of Italy. Prior to this, he had always slept on the couch when the man was over, but that was growing beyond uncomfortable. "Get up. Training starts in an hour," he boomed, glaring down at te snoring Itallian. Sometimes he really did believe he was hopeless.

    "I surrender!" Italy yelped, getting a white flag out from the bed and flapping it around, thinking he was being attacked. He opened his eyes and saw Germany there and he relaxed. "Germany, don't(a) give me a heart attack like that." He muttered, laying back down on the bed. "Five more minutes..." He closed his eyes again, pulling the covers over his head.

    Ludwig ripped the sheet away, scowling as he did so,"Nien. You vill get up now, or no pasta for a month." He began to fold the sheet, setting it down finally on the ground beside the bed. Germany was merely seconds away from ripping the pillow away too, but that would be too cruel. Italy looked so cute this way.

    "Pasta!" Italy jumped off the bed and tripped over his own pillow, landing hard on the floor. He scrambled up and ran to the kitchen, looking around everywhere for the pasta he loved. "Ludwig, where do you keep(a) the pasta?" He called, planning on having pasta for breakfast this morning. Yup, that was Italy's love for pasta but, yes, he did have a crush on someone...

    "Zhere's some vurst in ze fridge, I'm not letting you mess up my kitchen so close to time to go," Ludwig replied blandly, walking up to lean on the doorframe of the kitchen. He began to boredly crack his knuckles, each making a loud pop in agony. There's was no doubt Italy would whine abou his decision, but he refused to waver.

    Italy pouted, crossing his arms and glaring at Germany. "But I want PASTA!" He whined, hoping to annoy Ludwig so he would change his mind. Childish and whiny Italy wasn't about to give up without a fight for his pasta, even if he wasn't the bravest person (or even close to one). "Pleaaseee.......?" He went down to his knees, putting on his best pleading face possible.

    Ludwig shook his head, this time speaking in English,"No." His icy optics bore holes straight through the little man,"Ve don't have time to vait.

    "Why not...?" Italy asked, getting ready to protest more but then he thought better of it, not wanting to agitate Ludwig anymore. "Fine...sorry." Italy apologized, looking down. He really didn't like to fight with Germany, even if it was for pasta. Actually, Italy himself was pretty surprised with himself that he gave up that quickly. He didn't know what was going on but whenever he was with Ludwig, he felt like his brain was melting to mush.

    Germany looked down at him and forced himself not to lash out,"Eizer eat or let's go." He strode over to the door and placed one of his massive hands on the doorknob. He waited for an answer, knowing that more whining was sure to come.

    Italy stuck out his tongue at Ludwig and stood up, walking towards the door. "But why do I have to go? Can I get a break...?" He whined, walking out the door and waiting for Germany to follow. "When can I sleep in? I was having this perfect dream. Oh yeah, and I'm really tired so can I go to bed now and call it a day?" Italy babbled on, making sure he complained about every single detail possible.

    "Look, zhis is var. You are my ally and zherefor I do not vant you to get shot!" Germany spat as he grabber reached down to grasp Italy's wrist so that they could leave. Many of his other soldiers would have arrived by now.

    Italy opened his mouth to say something then realized it was pointless. He couldn't get out of training no matter how hard he tried. He decided to try to be a good ally but that was almost going to be impossible. One, he was annoying and childish. Two, he wasn't brave so he would surrender at the first cry of 'war'.

    He looked back at him and let out a small sigh. It would be a long walk to the training grounds, but they should be able to make it on time. A general such as him being tardy want the best idea.

    "Well....I guess we better(a) go!" Italy smiled, starting to walk in the direction of the training grounds. He didn't really care about being late but he knew that being on time was what Ludwig wanted. Anyway, if Italy got into any trouble, he always had his white flag.

    Germany stood in front of his private army, the SS and glared down at all of them menacingly. Poor Italy didn't seem to fit in with the late Germans. "Sound off!" he yelled, pulling his chest up tall, his many badges shining in the twilight sun.