Jul. 11th, 2010 10:02 pm
I never posted this...did I?
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Final Four (Round of 4): Netherlands vs Uruguay, Spain vs Germany.
Netherlands 3-2 Uruguay
Netherlands leaned back against the wall and sighed, relieved. Uruguay put up quite a fight, but in the end, he and his boys were on their way to the finals, and he couldn’t be happier. He even let himself show a small smile.
As the Uruguayans slumped of the field with their heads downcast, Netherlands heard a voice shout his name. He looked up to see Belgium, wearing a crazy orange ensemble like the rest of his fans, dragging Romano, who was stubbornly wearing red and yellow, he assumed to support Spain, towards him.
“Belgium? What are you doing here?” he asked, confused.
“To watch you of course,” she laughed, “don’t worry, Romano was able to sneak me in with an extra ticket one of his people decided not to use, so it’s all good!”
He sighed but was pulled into a tight hug by his sister before he could say anything else.
“Congratulations. Really, I mean it. You deserve it so much. You’re going to go all the way I can tell.”
Netherlands was thrown off guard by the sudden display of affection, but wrapped his arms around his sister as well, “Thanks sis.”
“Romano will support you too,” she beamed as she pulled away, “Isn’t that right Romano?”
“Uh, well,” he looked at his feet and scratched the back of his head, “If the potato bastard wins, sure. But if Spain does win, I’ll probably end up cheering for him…not because I want to, of course.”
“Meanie,” Belgium stuck out her tongue in a playful manner. Netherlands chuckled at the Italians typical behavior.
Whether he had Romano’s support or not, the final was promising to be very interesting.
Spain 1-0 Germany
Germany was staring at the field in silence. So close, so very close and yet…
He was more worried about his brother, who he’s pretty sure hadn’t even drawn a breath after the goal. And now that the game was over, he was being awfully quiet, and Germany knew Prussia well enough to know that it was just the calm before the eventual storm.
“You’re such a fucking cheater!!” he shouted as he stormed over to where Spain was celebrating in the middle of the field by hugging an unwilling Romano. They both looked up when Prussia shouted.
“What? What do you think I did now?” Spain asked, confused.
“You’re such a…I can’t believe…” Prussia stomped in his frustration, “there’s no way you could have fucking beat us!”
“Oh? Is that all?” Spain smirked and released Romano, “I think someone’s just being a sore loser.”
“Like hell I am!” Prussia snarled as he snatched the front of Spain’s jersey, “This was our year!”
“Correction, this is my year,” he slapped the hand away.
Just as the two of them started shouting expletives at each other, Italy found his way to Germany and jumped him with a hug.
“Ve, Germany, I’m sorry you lost to such an undeserving team like that…” he sighed as he squeezed him tighter.
“Undeserving?” Romano snapped his head from watching the bad friends go at it to his brother, “What do you mean Spain was undeserving?”
“I mean, he lost his first match to Switzerland,” Italy went on, “Switzerland didn’t even make it out of groups. And most of his victories have been him barely scraping by, where as Germany and his boys have been getting by on pure skill.”
“Spain is the fucking European champion!” Romano shouted as his brother dismounted his German, “You don’t get more skill than that, idiot! Your stupid potato bastard lost to Serbia. Serbia. At least Switzerland has skills!”
“Oh, but brother,” Italy shook his head, “he only lost there because Spain cheated.”
Germany mentally counted to three before Italy was tackled to the ground.
Normally in situations like this, Germany would have stepped in to stop these fights before someone got hurt. But really, he couldn’t stop Prussia this time if he tried, and the fight between the Italies was more of a family feud after all…
What Germany really needed right now, were several beers. And maybe some wurst.
A/N: Is it sad I have headcannon for the World Cup? >_>
-Romano was able to sneak me in with an extra ticket one of his people decided not to use, so it’s all good!: WC!Headcannon says the only nations allowed to be at the World Cup are the nations in the World Cup, which is why Canada never showed up for America. <_<;
Because there are only two, there's a bonus.
Title: On America and his Relationship withFootball Soccer
Author: Me.
Characters: America, OC!FIFA
Rating/Warning: PG.
Summary: Also known as why being a soccer fan in America is very difficult.
On America and Soccer
A Few Years before the World Cup
“So, America,” FIFA asked, “are you getting ready for the World Cup? It’s only a few years away, you know.”
“Can’t talk,” America stared at the TV, “Real football is on. Go bother Brazil or Mexico or something…” he waved his hands and shooed FIFA out of the room, who just shrugged and continued on his way.
After the US Qualifies
“So, America,” FIFA said, “congratulations on qualifying for the World Cup.” He handed the nation his pass to the event and a map of venues.
“Thanks!” America eagerly took the offered items, “I’m super excited this year! Maybe I’ll actually be able to win a game!” he chuckled.
FIFA just smiled, “Don’t worry. No one expects much from you.”
“I guess,” America sadly returned the smile as he pulled out his world map, “So where’s South Africa again?”
When the US Wins
“Yes!” America cheered and tightly hugged FIFA. “I won! I won! This…this is such an amazing feeling!”
“Yes. Quite.” FIFA made a few small attempts to break out of the hug.
“Seriously, man. You’re amazing! I…I think I might love you.”
“Of course,” he almost found a way out, but America just pulled him closer.
“My team! Isn’t my team just the best around?”
“They’re alright,” FIFA stated, “It’s still a tough road ahead. I mean, you still don’t stand a chance against the powerhouses like Brazil and company, but you should be able to beat the likes of New Zealand.”
“Psh, why so negative? My boys will surprise you yet!” he squeezed FIFA even tighter, “We’re going all the way this year, just you wait and see!”
When the US Loses
FIFA found America crying out his sorrows at the bar.
“I-it’s the refs fault!” he sobbed into the organization’s shoulder, “They always screw me over…”
“Your refs were fine.”
“Stupid Ghana…she must have cheated.”
“She didn’t. Everyone’s been playing fairly.”
“Fairly?! You call that game fair?”
“Yes. You got eliminated. It happens.”
“B-but…but I tried so hard!”
“So does everyone else. Face it America, you’re not all that special.”
“Yeah? Well I don’t need you anyway!” America pushed him away, “I…I hate you! I never liked you to begin with! It’s not like I care, like everyone else. I don’t need to follow the rest of the world. I have my own athletic associations which are so much cooler than you anyway!” he turned and pouted, very clearly bent on not engaging FIFA any further.
And that was fine with him, as he turned around and left the bar. He had other things to do anyway.
He just wished he didn’t have to go through this with America every four years…so troublesome.
A/N: I think this would work better as a comic, but alas, I can't draw.
-FIFA is just being used to represent soccer as a whole here. Technically by my logic MLS would have a different personification, but whatever.
-OC!FIFA is that unemotional with all the nations. Considering the love/hate the consistently send his way, and the fact that he's neutral, can you blame the guy? He also loves controversy and is a technophobe.
Netherlands 3-2 Uruguay
Netherlands leaned back against the wall and sighed, relieved. Uruguay put up quite a fight, but in the end, he and his boys were on their way to the finals, and he couldn’t be happier. He even let himself show a small smile.
As the Uruguayans slumped of the field with their heads downcast, Netherlands heard a voice shout his name. He looked up to see Belgium, wearing a crazy orange ensemble like the rest of his fans, dragging Romano, who was stubbornly wearing red and yellow, he assumed to support Spain, towards him.
“Belgium? What are you doing here?” he asked, confused.
“To watch you of course,” she laughed, “don’t worry, Romano was able to sneak me in with an extra ticket one of his people decided not to use, so it’s all good!”
He sighed but was pulled into a tight hug by his sister before he could say anything else.
“Congratulations. Really, I mean it. You deserve it so much. You’re going to go all the way I can tell.”
Netherlands was thrown off guard by the sudden display of affection, but wrapped his arms around his sister as well, “Thanks sis.”
“Romano will support you too,” she beamed as she pulled away, “Isn’t that right Romano?”
“Uh, well,” he looked at his feet and scratched the back of his head, “If the potato bastard wins, sure. But if Spain does win, I’ll probably end up cheering for him…not because I want to, of course.”
“Meanie,” Belgium stuck out her tongue in a playful manner. Netherlands chuckled at the Italians typical behavior.
Whether he had Romano’s support or not, the final was promising to be very interesting.
Spain 1-0 Germany
Germany was staring at the field in silence. So close, so very close and yet…
He was more worried about his brother, who he’s pretty sure hadn’t even drawn a breath after the goal. And now that the game was over, he was being awfully quiet, and Germany knew Prussia well enough to know that it was just the calm before the eventual storm.
“You’re such a fucking cheater!!” he shouted as he stormed over to where Spain was celebrating in the middle of the field by hugging an unwilling Romano. They both looked up when Prussia shouted.
“What? What do you think I did now?” Spain asked, confused.
“You’re such a…I can’t believe…” Prussia stomped in his frustration, “there’s no way you could have fucking beat us!”
“Oh? Is that all?” Spain smirked and released Romano, “I think someone’s just being a sore loser.”
“Like hell I am!” Prussia snarled as he snatched the front of Spain’s jersey, “This was our year!”
“Correction, this is my year,” he slapped the hand away.
Just as the two of them started shouting expletives at each other, Italy found his way to Germany and jumped him with a hug.
“Ve, Germany, I’m sorry you lost to such an undeserving team like that…” he sighed as he squeezed him tighter.
“Undeserving?” Romano snapped his head from watching the bad friends go at it to his brother, “What do you mean Spain was undeserving?”
“I mean, he lost his first match to Switzerland,” Italy went on, “Switzerland didn’t even make it out of groups. And most of his victories have been him barely scraping by, where as Germany and his boys have been getting by on pure skill.”
“Spain is the fucking European champion!” Romano shouted as his brother dismounted his German, “You don’t get more skill than that, idiot! Your stupid potato bastard lost to Serbia. Serbia. At least Switzerland has skills!”
“Oh, but brother,” Italy shook his head, “he only lost there because Spain cheated.”
Germany mentally counted to three before Italy was tackled to the ground.
Normally in situations like this, Germany would have stepped in to stop these fights before someone got hurt. But really, he couldn’t stop Prussia this time if he tried, and the fight between the Italies was more of a family feud after all…
What Germany really needed right now, were several beers. And maybe some wurst.
A/N: Is it sad I have headcannon for the World Cup? >_>
-Romano was able to sneak me in with an extra ticket one of his people decided not to use, so it’s all good!: WC!Headcannon says the only nations allowed to be at the World Cup are the nations in the World Cup, which is why Canada never showed up for America. <_<;
Because there are only two, there's a bonus.
Title: On America and his Relationship with
Author: Me.
Characters: America, OC!FIFA
Rating/Warning: PG.
Summary: Also known as why being a soccer fan in America is very difficult.
On America and Soccer
A Few Years before the World Cup
“So, America,” FIFA asked, “are you getting ready for the World Cup? It’s only a few years away, you know.”
“Can’t talk,” America stared at the TV, “Real football is on. Go bother Brazil or Mexico or something…” he waved his hands and shooed FIFA out of the room, who just shrugged and continued on his way.
After the US Qualifies
“So, America,” FIFA said, “congratulations on qualifying for the World Cup.” He handed the nation his pass to the event and a map of venues.
“Thanks!” America eagerly took the offered items, “I’m super excited this year! Maybe I’ll actually be able to win a game!” he chuckled.
FIFA just smiled, “Don’t worry. No one expects much from you.”
“I guess,” America sadly returned the smile as he pulled out his world map, “So where’s South Africa again?”
When the US Wins
“Yes!” America cheered and tightly hugged FIFA. “I won! I won! This…this is such an amazing feeling!”
“Yes. Quite.” FIFA made a few small attempts to break out of the hug.
“Seriously, man. You’re amazing! I…I think I might love you.”
“Of course,” he almost found a way out, but America just pulled him closer.
“My team! Isn’t my team just the best around?”
“They’re alright,” FIFA stated, “It’s still a tough road ahead. I mean, you still don’t stand a chance against the powerhouses like Brazil and company, but you should be able to beat the likes of New Zealand.”
“Psh, why so negative? My boys will surprise you yet!” he squeezed FIFA even tighter, “We’re going all the way this year, just you wait and see!”
When the US Loses
FIFA found America crying out his sorrows at the bar.
“I-it’s the refs fault!” he sobbed into the organization’s shoulder, “They always screw me over…”
“Your refs were fine.”
“Stupid Ghana…she must have cheated.”
“She didn’t. Everyone’s been playing fairly.”
“Fairly?! You call that game fair?”
“Yes. You got eliminated. It happens.”
“B-but…but I tried so hard!”
“So does everyone else. Face it America, you’re not all that special.”
“Yeah? Well I don’t need you anyway!” America pushed him away, “I…I hate you! I never liked you to begin with! It’s not like I care, like everyone else. I don’t need to follow the rest of the world. I have my own athletic associations which are so much cooler than you anyway!” he turned and pouted, very clearly bent on not engaging FIFA any further.
And that was fine with him, as he turned around and left the bar. He had other things to do anyway.
He just wished he didn’t have to go through this with America every four years…so troublesome.
A/N: I think this would work better as a comic, but alas, I can't draw.
-FIFA is just being used to represent soccer as a whole here. Technically by my logic MLS would have a different personification, but whatever.
-OC!FIFA is that unemotional with all the nations. Considering the love/hate the consistently send his way, and the fact that he's neutral, can you blame the guy? He also loves controversy and is a technophobe.