Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

 I hate France. I hate France. I hate France, you think as you stomp angrily towards your house to take a shower.

“O hon hon hon hon, you'll thank me someday!” he yells to you.

“NEVER!” you scream defiantly, turning around for a moment to glare at him, wringing the pink stuff he had dumped on you out of your hair. He simply smiles and walks towards his own home.

You sniff angrily and turn around, continuing home. “Stupid France with his stupid love potion and his stupid laugh and his stupid girly hair and his stupid accent,” you growl angrily.

When you arrive home and step into the shower, doing your best to remove all the pink goo, his words run through your mind.

“O hon hon hon, I have something for you...” he snickered.

“No way you stupid jerk!” you yelled, glaring at him.

“Ah, but if you don't take it, I'll just give it to you anyway!”

“What the- HEY!” you cried angrily as he dumped a bucket of pink... something all over you.

“Hon hon, now you won't be so sad and alone... you shall finally find love!”

“WHAT THE HECK DID YOU DUMP ON ME?!”

“Why, love potion, dear [YN]!”

“WHAT?!”

“Everyone will love you now!”

“I HATE YOU, FRANCIS, YOU STUPID SNAIL-EATING JERK!”

You sigh as you shampoo your hair for the fourth time. Now is the time to be thorough. Maybe it would come off permanently. Maybe it was just a joke.

After thoroughly cleaning every bit of pink off, you sigh and throw on basketball shorts and a tee shirt- your lounging clothes. You are careful to make sure that they are not pink. Then, you turn on the TV and start to watch Star Wars where you had left off that morning. That would keep your mind off things.

“I love you...”

“I know.”

Or not.

You hit the power button and sigh, leaning back in the couch. Maybe you should just go force France to give you an antidote... or maybe it's a hoax. Knowing France, however, you're not too sure.

Three fast, excited knocks on the door cause you to jump.

Don't be France... you think angrily, running a hand through your hair and answering the door.

“Hey, Nim! I saw you coming home and you looked really angry, so I was wondering if I could take you out for pasta to cheer you up, ve~!” A brightly beaming boy, barely taller than you despite your own excessive shortness of 5' 3”, beams at you.

You mentally facepalm. Is this normal Italy, or was France's stupid potion really working. You sigh. Might as well, it is almost dinner time and you're too stressed to be up to making anything.

“Sure, Italy, just let me go change. Give me five minutes, okay?”

“Sure! Hey, you should wear that pink shirt you were wearing before! It was really pretty on you!”

You want to smash your head into the wall like China, but instead, you manage to hold back and simply smile weakly. “I'll figure something out,” you say politely, heading for your room. Inside, you lean against the wall. You still don't know if this is normal Italy or love potion Italy, but you think you might be able to find out at your (dreaded) date. (Is it really a date, or just hanging out?)

You change into nice jeans and a blue (not pink) blouse, pull your hair into a ponytail, and go back to the living room where Italy is still standing in the doorway.

“Wow, Nim, you look really pretty!” he said, grinning widely. (How could he tell? He didn't even open his eyes!) “I bet everyone else is really jealous that I get to go out with you and not them, ve~!”

So it is a date, you think, trying to keep the smile on your face. “Sure. Thanks.”

He grabs your hand and almost drags you to a nice little Italian restaurant. He says something you can't understand to the waiter, who nods and brings you to your table.

“This place has really good pasta, ve~! I hope you like it. You should cheer up!” Italy says, sitting down across from you. “Why aren't you happy?”

You try to smile a little more. “I'm fine...” you reply monotonously.

Italy cocks his head like a puppy and you're forced to really smile a little bit. He opens his eyes, and you blink in surprise.

“Okay, that's good! You were really angry earlier when you were coming back from France's house, ve~!” he grins and his eyes close again. You sigh in relief- that was really weird. “You're really pretty even when you're angry, though!”

“Er... thanks,” you mutter, picking up the menu and hiding behind it. The pasta actually did look really good, though.

Before you could even forget about the potion a little bit, though, someone came up behind you.

“Hello, Nim,” he said.

Germany.

You turn around. “Um, hi?”

He smiles at you. What? You smile back weakly. Maybe he was just... in a really good mood. A really really good mood. Germany never smiles. Why is he smiling? You start to panic as he turns towards Italy. His smile vanishes and you head-table. Maybe you are hallucinating.

“Italy, you did not come to your evening training!”

“Ve~! Germany, I was just having some pasta with Nim!” Italy announced, cowering in his chair.

“Das ist nicht ACCEPTABLE!” ( AN Sorry, German class joke, had to use it...) Germany growls. “Go run five laps around my house! NOW!”

“But Nim hasn't had her pasta, ve~!”

“I will take care of it. Go!”

Italy squeaks and runs out, while Germany sighs and sits down where he had been. “Sorry about that,” he says, looking at you and smiling again. You freeze. Why is he smiling again?!

“It- it's okay,” you stammer, picking up the menu and hiding behind it again. You try to focus on the pasta choices, but Germany's smile is managing to invade your brain extremely effectively. You had never seen him smile before.

“Would you like to order?” a loud Italian voice says. You look up to see the waiter that had greeted you and Italy.

“Ah, sure, I'd like the sausage mushroom... er, garginelli,” you stutter.

“I would like the same, please,” Germany said. You jump; you had almost forgotten that he was still there.

“Of course.”

The waiter takes your menus and leaves. You can't hide any more. Great...

“Don't you need to go train Italy?” you ask shakily.

He sighs, folding his hands. “He'll run the laps, if he doesn't, I'll give him more. Besides, I told him I would take care of the... pasta.” His smile dimmed into a straight face. You feel a bit relieved; at least this is mildly normal.

“Er... okay.”

Both of you sit in silence. You avoid his gaze, instead staring at the table.

“Are you all right?” he asks gruffly after a few moments. You jerk your head up to see him staring, concerned, at you.

“Er... yeah. Long day,” you respond more or less truthfully.

“You are not talking much. You are very quiet.” (AN: Department of redundancy department, anyone?)

“Er... I'm really tired. Like I said, long day.”

He nods and you both finish your pasta in silence. When you are done, he asks, “Would you like me to take you home?”

You hastily shake your head. “Er... Sealand said he'd give me a ride on his country.”

“Alright. It was nice to see you.”

“Erm... yeah. Seeya later.”

You quickly leave the restaurant and pull your cell phone out to call Sealand.

“Hello, super amazing country here!” came his voice from the other end.

“Hey, Sealand, I was wondering if you could give me a ride home from Italy's place. I'm super tired.”

“Of course, Nim! Be there soon! Super country Sealand out!”

You sigh and relax against a wall. Maybe this is just a dream, maybe when you get home and go to bed, you'll wake up.

“Hello, Nim.” another Italian voice says. You look up quickly, eyes widening as you see Romano smiling at you. You blink.

“Hi,” you respond quickly, running for the dock.

This is getting creepy.

“Never fear, Nim, my country is here!” I heard Sealand exclaim. I sighed in relief and boarded his country from the dock.

“Thanks, Sealand.”

“No problem!”

Soon, you arrived on your island and you again thank Sealand and say goodbye.

“Hey, Nim, were you just on a date? You look really nice!” he asks before you can leave. You wince.

“Er... yeah. Kinda.”

“You should go on a date with me! Seeing how I'm an amazing country now!”

You inwardly wince. “Er, not now, Sealand. How old are you?”

“I've been a country since 1968!” he declares proudly.

You sweatdrop. He looks twelve...

“Okay... erm, I'll go now.”

You run back to your house and collapse on your bed after changing into a tank top and pyjama pants.

Looooong day.

 

 

Chapter Text

You wake up early the next morning. Nothing is out of the ordinary, and you think it may have been a dream. No- a nightmare.

You stretch and get up, quickly shower, and throw on jeans and a button-up shirt. As you braid your hair, you head over to the mail slot. There's the usual letter from your boss, in-progress trade agreements and contracts, and junk mail. Then, under them, you see a letter from Italy. You freeze for a moment, then slowly open it.

 

Dear Nim,

It was really nice last night until Germany came along. We should go out again another time so we can have more fun!

-Italy

 

You fall back against the wall. So it wasn't just a dream. It was very real, and you were already dreading the rest of the day.

Before you can figure out what to do, your phone rings. You pick it up and see that it is your boss that is calling.

“Hey, [YN], you need to hurry up and get your butt over to the world meeting! You slept in again, didn't you? Hurry up, you're in charge this week so you need to be here within the next ten minutes or I'll kick your butt to next Wednesday! You won't sit for a week!”

Before you could respond to her, there is a click as she hangs up. You sigh, grab your bag, and head out the door, dialling Sealand's number.

“Hey, totally amazing country here!”

You smile slightly. “Hey, Sealand, can you give me a ride again? I overslept and I'm in charge of the world meeting. I'll let you in if you can get me there in 10.”

“Of course!” came his chipper voice. “I'll be there soon! Super country Sealand out!”

You hang up and sigh, heading outside. In about a minute, Sealand appears. You climb on and he starts heading to the meeting with you.

“Here we are, right on time!” he shouts as the building appears. You sigh in relieve (and a bit of fear) as you jump down to the pavement. He follows you as you speed into the building.

“SORRY I'M LATE!” you yell, once you sit down. You sigh again. Everyone's eyes are on you, and you sink back into your seat.

“That's all right, just go on and start,” Britain replied, nodding. “But what is Sealand doing here?”

“He's a country, and I'm paying him back for the ride he gave me. Now, the usual, eight minutes for speeches, go longer and I'll smack you. Raise your hands, and only speak if your supposed to. Go.”

Right as you finish, nearly everyone's hands go up. France smirks at you from the midst of them, his arms folded.

“Er... America, go.”

“Hey, Nim, the Hero wants to go out for burgers after the meeting! You game?” he asked, standing and grinning from the other side of the table.

You groan and headdesk. “Sure, why not.” That was normal America behaviour, but you couldn't help feeling a bit of foreboding. “Alright, Italy. Talk.”

“Did you get my letter this morning? When do you want to go for pastaaaa, ve~?”

You headdesk again. “Later, Italy. New rule: stay on the freaking topic. Russia, say something.”

The huge country rose, his serene smile widening. “Become one with mother Russia, da?”

You shrink back in your seat and put your head in your hands.

“You dummkopfs, just say what you need to say that is important to the world, and stop annoying Nim!” Germany shouted. You relax slightly.

“Thank you, Germany,” you mutter. You look up and glance at the few hands that are still up. One of them belongs to Prussia, who you don't recall being allowed in the world meeting for quite a long time. “Prussia, what are you doing here?”

He puts his hand down and smiles. “Well, I just wanted to be around the second most awesome person in the world, liebe .”

You headdesk yet again.

“Get out of here, Prussia!” Germany growled.

“Come on, West, admit it! You want the same thing.” Prussia replied.

“Shut up and get out!”

As the two brothers continue to argue, leading the other countries to do the same, you slam your fist on the table and stand up. “SHUT UP, EVERYONE!” To your surprise, they do, and they all turn towards you. “MEETING ADJORNED!”

With that, you turn around and stomp away. Out the building you go, and from there you head to the dock, where a ferry leaves in five minutes. You buy a ticket and go on, grabbing some breakfast at the cafe and sitting down. In about a half hour, you're back home, where you instantly collapse on the couch.

“I am going insane, aren't I?” you think aloud, huddled on the middle cushion.

After a few minutes, you sigh and stand up to put in a movie. Disney movies always cheer you up, so you put in Tangled.

Alas, Disney movies have romance. By the time the reprise of “Mother Knows Best” is up, you're about to turn it off. Before you can, however, there is a flurry of loud knocks on the door.

“Yo, [YN]! Y'wanna go get burgers for lunch with the Hero?”

You groan and stand up. You did tell him you'd go. You walk slowly to the door, trying to smile.

“Hey, America,” you say quietly.

“Alright, let's go!” he cries loudly. Before you can say anything else, though, he picks you up and puts you on his back, starting to run.

“AAAAAH! AMERICAAAAAA!” you scream as he races down the road. Your arms are in a death grip around his neck as you piggy-back ride to the closest MacDonald's.

“You're having fun right? After all, I am the Hero!” he yells at you.

You're about to disagree, but you find that you can't. You are having fun. You shout, “HECK YEAH!” as he slows down near the big gold arches.

“Good!” he says, grinning as he puts you down. You smile back as he leads you inside and orders ten Big Mac meals, with fries and shakes. You sit down and he hands you a burger, which you take and bite into happily.

“So munch why munchcrunch were you sluuurp late today?” America asks, chowing down.

“Overslept,” you reply, doing the same.

“I crunch didn't! SLURRRRRP Because I'M THE HERO!” he yells happily.

You grin over your milkshake and take a big gulp.

Just as you are finishing lunch with America, your phone rings. You glance at it- your boss is calling.

“Yo, boss.”

“WHY THE HECK DID YOU END THAT MEETING EARLY?!”

You hold the phone away from your ear and America even looks up from his eating as your boss' screeching voice fills the entire restaurant.

“Because nothing was being accomplished. Don't sweat it, boss, no worries. No one had anything important to say, anyway. And there's another one in a week, so let's just let it drop, right?”

“I'LL LET YOU DROP FROM THE TOWER! DON'T LET IT HAPPEN AGAIN, OR I'LL KICK YOUR BUTT!”

“Whatevs, boss, now if you'll excuse me, I'm trying to have a little fun. If you want to kick someone's butt, kick France's. He dumped a-”

But before you can say the next few words, your throat closes up. You can't say anything. But, just as you realise this and you've finished mouthing 'love potion,' you're talking again.

“On my head.”

“Well, don't have too much fun, because you've gotta be at the meeting with Britain in an hour!”

There is a click as your boss hangs up. You glance at the phone for a second before putting it away and turning back to America, who grins at you and finishes his last burger. You blink, then grab your bag.

“Thanks for bringing me, Alfred. It was loads of fun, but I've got to go to a meeting.”

“Anytime!” he replies, stacking up his garbage onto the tray.

You smile at him and start to leave.

“Hey, wait, you can't leave without a hug from the Hero!” he says, grabbing your shoulder. You freeze. America had never seemed like the hugging type- more like the punch on the arm type. But before you can continue to think or speak, he wraps his arms around you. You freeze for a second, then relax and hug him bag. You are a full foot shorter than him, so your face is in his (extremely buff) chest. He smells like hamburgers, which you would have thought wouldn't be a pleasant thing for someone to smell like, but in America's case it is.

You mentally slap yourself. No! Bad [YN]! You remember the love potion and pull away.

“B-by Alfred,” you stutter, turning away and walking quickly out.

As your boss and Britain's talk in the other room, you wonder why they even drag you along. You are sitting in a hard chair in a waiting room of sorts, waiting for Britain's queen and your boss to be done.

“Hello, Nim.”

You look up to see Britain, in all his bushy-eyebrowed glory, smiling at you.

“Oh, hi, Britain.”

“Are they still in the meeting?”

You nod. “Yeah. I wonder why she even drags me along.”

“I don't really know. The Queen brings me to all of the negotiations at the other countries' houses, too.” He looks up at the clock above you and back down. “They'll probably be in there a while yet. Would you care to go for a walk?”

You nod, and he holds out one hand. You take it and he pulls you up. You notice that his hand lingers in yours for a moment before you lets go. In a moment of panic, you think of the love potion, but you manage to push it out of your mind.

“How have you been? You didn't say much at the world meeting,” he asks casually.

“Stressed. France-” but again, you find you can't talk about the love potion. You cough to cover it up.

“That stupid git causing trouble again?” Britain muttered angrily. “He stole a potion from my storage the other day, the prat.”

You freeze. “...potion?”

“Yes, one I'm developing. A sort of love potion. It was going so well, too!” he sighed, stopping next to you.

“Oh?”

“Yes. It's kind of the reverse of your average love potion; instead of the person who is affected by it falling in love with someone, everyone of the opposite gender falls in love with that person. It's more of an experiment than anything else.”

You mechanically continue to walk forward, a strained smile pasted on your face. “That sounds... interesting,” you choke out.

“Yes, it is.”

You cough again. “What are the other effects of this... love potion?”

“Are you all right?” he asks worriedly as you cough. You nod, and he smiles. “Good. Well, when the person comes in contact with a large amount of the potion, the main effect comes in. Everyone of the opposite sex who sees, hears, smells, or touches the person starts to love them. About a day later, the potion is fully set in, and just hearing the name of the person should engage that effect. On the third day, the person using the potion is effected. They become more open to the people indirectly effected by the potion- the people who love that person- and they become more flirtatious, I suppose.” He stops. “That's mostly theoretical, but I have seen most of the effects on the rats... And the attraction seems to increase over time.”

You stop just behind him, your face pale.

The love potion is real.

The second effect has set in.

The third effect is setting in tomorrow.

Tomorrow.

You start hyperventilating, the world is spinning around you.

Tomorrow you'll be flirtatious ?

Your vision turns black, and you hear a distant thump as your body hits the ground. Far away, as if he was on the other end of a mile-long tunnel, you hear Britain yelling.

“Nim? Nim! Are you all right?”

Chapter Text

Hello, wonderful readers! This is my most read fanfic, last I checked, and I feel terrible for not updating. I have had a lot going on, with school and work and starting my own business (which you should check out at untrammelledproductions.com) I haven't had much time for fanfics. However, I miss this one so I WILL be continuing it. I don't know when the next chapter will be released, but it will happen.
Thanks!