countryhumans oneshots but they're terrible.

goulash

449 words. i headcanon that four random countries (hungary, ukraine, canada, and liechtenstein) all live together.

edit: EW THIS HEADCANON IS SHIT THIS ONESHOT IS SHIT ALL OF THIS IS SHIT

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It's a beautiful house anyway, how could any of them refuse? Having roommates isn't going to be that bad. Right?

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"Raine, where's my goulash?" Hungary yelled from the kitchen.

"I-I don't know where your goo-laash is," I said, secretly scraping up another scoop of the stew with my spoon. "Ask Nada or Liechy."

"Nada won't even touch my goulash, and Liechy's at work. So that means you're the only one who could have-'' Hungary stuck her head out of the kitchen to see me, on the couch, eating out of a bowl that looked very much like her bowl of soup. "-what were you just eating?

I looked at her, then glanced back at the empty plate, then looked back at her.

"Stew."

"My stew?" Hungary alleged, raising her voice an octave higher.

"Угорщина, I can explain-" I said, hiding the bowl under a nearby pillow.

"Explain what? You eating my soup?"

"It didn't have your name on it anyway." I explained.

"Who does that!?"

"Does what?"

"Put their name on soup."

The front door opened, probably Liechtenstein. He mumbled something about being tired, slammed the door, and proceeded to trudge back to his room. Neither of us cared, so we continued our argument that I was going to definitely win.

"What are you gonna do about it anyway, huh? Declare war on me?" I taunted.

She crossed her arms and frowned. "If you continue to steal my fucking food then maybe I will." 

"Guys?" a voice called. Canada was standing in the middle of the stairway looking confused. "I heard a door slam. What's happening?"

"Nada! Tell Hun that this is not her stew and just Borsch-"

"That is nem Borscht," Hungary snorted. Like she knows about Borscht. I practically invented it. "It has a beetroot fragrance with a whiff of salt and vinegar." She-I-she really does know about Borscht. "That stew Ukraine is holding has an aroma of beef and wine, with a touch of lemon to top it off, which is the exact smell of the goulash that I was going to eat."

"Okay, okay." Canada said, raising a hand. "Let's solve this once and for all. Raine, give me the spoon." 

I regretfully obliged, and he took a scoop of the stew. He slurped it up with a sound that made me cringe in second-hand-embarrassment. He stood there for a moment, staring into the abyss, and finally swallowing.

"Tastes sorta like lemony beef."

"See?" Hungary fumed, pointing at me. "She stole my stew!"

"I did not! I didn't even know it was yours anyway-"

"Guys!" Canada yelled. We both went silent. He placed his fingers on his temples, and said, "I'll make some more goulash for the both of you if you just stop fighting. Fuck it, I'll take both of you to the nearest restaurant."

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i have several questions about my mental state.