Hetalia Stuff

VERY Rarepair I ship

Okay, first off, picture above is completely irrelevant, I just found it gorgeous and had to put it in here somehow.

Anyway. 

Back to topic.

What would perhaps be the rarest pair that I ship is...

Brace yourselves.

Scotland.

X.

Switzerland.

That's right, ScotSwiss.

The thought of it just popped into my head once, no clue how or why. But this ship could actually work out. Just imagine them meeting.

England: Ah, you will excuse this, Vash, but today there are three... Imbeciles at my house. I simply cannot be rid of them.

Scotland: Is that any way-

Switzerland: What's wrong with his hair?

Ireland: Whose, mine? Rude.

Wales: Thank God I have normal hair.

Ireland: It's the only normal thing about you.

England: *ignoring them* I believe you're speaking about the one with a cigarette butt stuck in his mouth.

Switzerland: Yes.

Scotland: Where's my knif-

England: It's just unnaturally red. But then again, he IS an unnatural demon, so...

Scotland: You fucking cunt-

Switzerland: How fun. *points at Ireland and Wales* Can I shoot them? They're getting loud.

England: Please, be my guest.

Scotland: Where's my scotch, this is going to be a fun show.

Ireland: Did you just threaten to shoot me?! Do-

Wales: Yes, please do. At least you appreciate me enough to shoot me.

*awkward silence*

England: Dylan, are you alright? Are you lonely?

Wales: I'm not lonely! I've got sheep!

Scotland: Your fucktoys don't count.

Wales: *siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh* See what I mean?

Ireland: You're depressed? Thank God, that means no more demonic chantings-

Wales: Like your language is any better!

England: *basically presses gun into Switzerland's hands* Go ahead, now's the moment to shoot.

*after a whole shiton of chaos and Switzerland leaves*

Wales: HE IS MEAN! NEVER INVITE HIM AGAIN!

Ireland: Pfft, weakling.

Wales: I'll show you weak, you bitch-

Scotland: I liked him, he actually shot those two.

England: See, there's a reason I spend time with him.

I mean, come on.

This stupidass meeting alone should be enough to make you ship them.

Like.

Another thing.

Their idea of a perfect date is probably going drinking, because hey, Switzy's a Germanic country, you think he's not a drinker of beer? And I don't have to explain Scotland.

But like.

Imagine this.

These two are in Scotland once, the land itself, in like, idk, a pub or whatever, and this guy hits on Vash, but Vash doesn't understand him because of his Scottish accent, whilst Alistair is just cracking as the guy keeps trying to get his point across but fails miserably-