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"Do canadians kids ride polar bears to school?"
Matthew Williams, also known as Canada, peered up from his newspaper to look at his friend, (your name) glaring into the computer screen in front of her.
"Uh...no (your name), we don't ride polar bears at all." he said, flipping to a new page without hassle.
"Okay." she sighed, making a funny shape with her tounge while waiting for the next page to load. Matthew gave her a little look before looking back blushing. She's so damn cute, he thought.
"Do canadians play hockey all the time?"
Matthew gave a puzzling look before finally answering.
"N-no. Some don't play hockey at all much less every-"
"Is it true you put mayple syrup on everything?"
Matthew turned lightly pink, becayse of the horrible stereotypicalism. Did people really think that about canadians? Nobody remembered him anyway so what did it matter? What was worse to him now what was (your name) thought of him.
"Do canadians give people whatever they want because their 'soo' nice?
"Feliciano can I ask you a question?"
A happy-go-lucky italian lifted his head from his bowl of pasta to see his friend (your name) using his computer.
"(N)-(Your name)!? How'd you ah get in my house-"
"Are Italian's all loud?"
Feliciano looked almost offended.
"N-no. Bu-but why are you-"
"Is it true most to all italians are fat and hairy?"
The italian man's eyes widened. His brows then made a depressed look.
"No (Your name)! See! Look at me!"
(Your name) turned to see her italian friend point to himself, and taking a look at hm she knew that wasn't true. Well..for him at least.
"Is that all (your name)? I would like to-"
(Your name)'s eyes glared onto the screen before laughing out loud. Feliciano still didn't look to happy.
"What is it now (your)-"
"Is is true italians have ties with the mafia?" she began to laugh again. "Wow."
Feliciano poked his friend in the shoulder. (Your name) turned her head to be..extremely close to his. She didn't even know he was there.
"Those things aren'
"Everyone drinks Vodka?"
The tall Russian man names Ivan, looked up to his dear friend (your name), who was 'supposed' to be looking for information about America. Don't ask why he wanted HER specifically to do it, maybe it was because he just liked seeing her. But for now, he was wishing he hadn't.
"No (your name)." Ivan replied, although chuckling to himself since HE was drinking vodka at the moment himself.
"Is Russia cold all year round?" (Your name) asked again, still looking at the computer screen in front of her.
Ivan felt like it was going to burn her eyes.
"No no (your name) it's not. But, why are you-"
"Russians only own warm clothes?"
Ivan gave her a 'are-you-retarded' look, before sighing and going towards her. Leaning over her shoulder, and peering at the computer screen. 'Russian Stereotypes' was the main page.
"Why are looking at this (your name)? You're supposed to look for America's weaknesses."
"I know I know. Hold on." (your name) giggled, making Ivan lean back a lit
The blond haired english man looked towards his friend (your name), raising an eyebrow in the process.
"Yes (your name)?"
Without warning, the blond man's eyes widened as (your name) opened his mouth as if trying to seek some buried teasure. She peered into his mouth and stared at his teeth.
"You don't have bad teeth Arthur!"
"Bloody hell woman!?" Arthur turned red, realizing how close her mouth was to his, however the girl in front of him didn't care.
(Your name) pulled out a small notepad and paper and checked something off.
Arthur began to get curious.
"What's that (your name)..?" he asked as calmly as he could. He was beginning to get worried of what she was planning.
"A list." she mumbled, not paying much attention to her british friend.
She looked up at him, her (e/c) eyes shining.
"I'm trying to see if the british stereotypes are real!" she sounded so happy about it.
Arthur didn't like it one bit, but before he could ask, she was blurting out questions.
"(Your name) vhat are you looking at?" Ludwig, also known as germany, replied standing above the (h/c) haired girl sitting at his computer. She was hardly paying attention, just glaring at the screen in front of her.
"Hmm.." was all he got from her. Sighing, he grabbed a newspaper and began to read it while still staring at her, wondering what on earth she was doing.
"Is it true all Germans are mean and tough?"
Ludwig took a moment to understand what she was asking, making sure he didn't take it the wrong way.
"No (your name), why vould you think something like zat-"
"Are Germans always angry?"
His face began to heat up. It was like she was pressuring him.
"No (your name), I don't see why zis is-"
"Are all Germans obsessed with beer?"
Ludwig's eyebrow twitched slightly.
"N-no! Verdammit (your name).."
"Do you guys only eat sausage and schnitzels?"
"Of course not!" Ludwig was getting furious. Not at (your name), but at the damn stereotypes she was reading about him and his culture. He d
"Francis, is it true french people drink wine like water?"
The blond haired french-man looked over at his friend (your name), and a smile appeared on his face.
"Well I love za wine~" he laughed. "But non. It's not drunk like water-"
"Is is true french wash less often than others?"
He nearly screamed. Well he did, just in a non-many way.
"Zat is not true (your name)! I love to be clean!" he flipped his hair with a wink, making (your name) smrik and turn back into her seat.
"What are you doing anyway?" Francis peered over his friends shoulder to see 'French Stereotypes' on the screen. He didn't seem to happy about it.
"(Your name) don't tell me your-"
"Is it true french people are rude and racist?"
"NON!" Francis shouted, a little more angry than girly this time.
"Well is it true french always eat frogs all the time?"
Francis sighed, and just answered the questions.
"Zat is not true either."
(Your name) sighed, and began to tap her fingers along the desk. To Francis, he thought it was pr
“(Your name) what are you looking at?” Emil, the white haired Icelandic man asked, while watching his friend shuffle through random sites on the computer. He didn't have the slightest idea why she was at his house, but he didn't care. He rather her be over more than anyone else.
“Just some things to ask you..” (your name) replied, a smile appearing on her face, seeing as she found the site she wanted.
“What do you want to ask me then?” Emil replied questionably, as if ready for some super tricky math question, for something about his brother or-
“Is is true that Iceland has the strongest men and women?” she asked, causing him to rethink over the whole 'tricky math' thing. Emil took a moment to wonder why she even cared about this kind of information.
“That is said by some. But-”
“Is it true male tourists to Iceland can easily get laid?”
Emil raised an eyebrow, showing off on his 'what are you talking about' looks,
"Norwegian's look as if they're soaked in bleach.."
Lukas Bondevik, turned his head to see (first name) (last name) glaring at a computer screen, seemingly talking to herself.
Finding this all to interesting, Lukas peered over, accidentally resting his head on her shoulder, making her gasp and turn to see him.
"Lukas you scared me!" she replied, clicking the minimize button.
"What were you looking at?" he asked, taking the mouse, putting his hand over hers and moving the mouse back to the website she was on. It wasn't really a site though. She was looking up 'Norwegian Stereotypes', and Lukas raised an eyebrow.
(Your name) just let out a sarcastic laugh.
"Can I ask you a few questions then?" she smiled brightly, with Lukas giving her another strange look.
(your name) went right to it, and began to asking questions.
"Does everyone ski in Norway?"
"No." Lukas answered rather quickly. He thought he should maybe speak a little slower.
"Hmm.." (your name) went on. "Is it true that m
South Italian Stereotypes...
To say your friend Lovino can get easily angered was an understatement. He'd never admit he was wrong, even if the whole party knew it was his fault.
At least he was nice towards you-and usually just women in general. However as you flipped open your notepad-to reveal your list of 'questions' you were going to ask him-you couldn't help but feel that it was going to end badly.
It was tough to find the few questions you had, but it was definetly worth it. Knocking on Lovino's door, he opened it with a wide mouth like he was expecting someone he didn't like.
"Oh..it is you (Name)." he mumbled, crossing his arms. "You may come in."
"Thanks." you smiled and poked his nose, not watching him blush and rub it as you walked in.
"S-so..why are you here anyway?" he asked, his arms still crossed and his foot tapping like he hadn't much time and needed to be somewhere.
"I have some things I'd like to ask you."
"Pfft. Why?" he asked, not even giving you a chance to state what 'kind' of questions.
Hetalia AmericaxReader - Stuck in a Box
“Hey, everybody! Let’s play Hide-and-Seek!”
I smiled up at my Prussian friend standing on a nearby tabletop. The crazy albino had just recommended that we all play Hide-and-Seek at one of his famous parties (or, rather, infamous parties). He and his two best friends, Antonio and Francis, claimed to be “it”, and they turned around and began to count.
“C’mon, _____,” said my best friend Alfred. He took my hand and led me upstairs and down a hallway, stopping when we came to an almost empty room. We went inside the room, closing the door behind us, and spotted a large footlocker that was big enough to just barely fit me and Alfred.
“Ladies first,” he said with a smirk.
I raised an eyebrow at him. “Uh, no,” I responded, pushing him toward the footlocker.
He sighed, opening the lid and stepping inside. When he slid into a comfortable position, he smiled at me and said, “C’mon in. The air is fine.
Hetalia EnglandxReader - Stuck In a Box
"Alfred! Where are we going?!" I said as Alfred pushed me along through his gigantic house.
He snickered. "You'll see~!"
I rolled my eyes.
We arrived at a door, which Alfred opened and shoved me into the room, closing and locking the door. It turns out the room wasn't a room-- it was a closet. It was a small, empty closet, barely able to fit two people.
Wait. Two people. . .
I banged my fist on the door. "Alfred Foster Jones! Get me out of this closet, or so help you, I will--"
Before I could say any more, the door opened and Arthur was pushed in. The door closed, pushing Arthur closer to me. I could see his emerald green eyes staring at me through the darkness. My face heated up, and I felt his heat up as well.
"Ah. . . Arthur. . ."
"Oh, _____," he muttered. "H-Hello, love. . ."
"Um. . . Did Alfred drag you in here, too?"
He nodded. "Yes. He didn't even bother explaining to me why."
"Ah. . ."
He didn't know, but I did. Alfred knew about my crush on Arthur; he probably thought t
Sexual Tension: England x ReaderWARNING: I swear in this. Get over it, the whole world swears all the time. As I once made an Italian say, “Swearing is good for the soul.”
“I take that as a compliment, stuck up bastard!”
“At least I’m civilized, arse!”
“Well, your language begs to differ!”
“Guys, guys, calm down and listen to the hero’s awesome plan!” America interrupted you and England’s bickering.
But both of you turned to him in a rage and yelled, “FAT ASS!” which effectively sent him away to sulk.
I guess all of you must have been pretty boring, and with you taking care of fighting with England, France was dozing off before you screamed. He groggily opened his eyes, calling out, “I disagree with all of you.”
“SHUT IT, FROG!” you and England yelled again, onl
Hetalia Seven Minutes In Heaven America
"Let's see dudes, who should I let go next?" America tapped his chin twice, then pulled you up to the center of the room. "You look like you're dying to play, why don't you go ahead and picks something out for yourself?"
Without a word, you pulled a piece of cheese from inside the hat. "Yeah, this is creative, who's is this?"
"Dude, that's totally mine!" America threw the hat at Ukraine, picked you up and locked the two of you inside of the dark closet. "Man, we totally lucked out getting each other huh?" He plopped down on the floor with you still in his arms.
"I guess so, I mean I really wasn't interested in playing, but getting you makes it a little better." You liked America, but there was no way you were just going to come out and tell him that.
"A little better? Come on now man, you've hurt my feelings… I'm the best player here by far. I'm the hero! I'm really glad you picked me, I wouldn't want to be stuck in a dark, cramped closet with a
America x reader- Mommy and Daddy~I love you~
You kneeled down next to a crying little boy, wiping away his tears.
"Mommy, I tripped and scraped my elbow!" He cried.
You smiled at your little boy. He'd grown so fast in only a few years. You picked him up, hugging him tight.
"America!" You called to your husband, "our son got himself hurt!"
"It was an accident, mommy!" The little boy said, squirming in your grip.
America walked outside holding your daughter. He smiled sweetly, giving a small chuckle at you and your feisty son.
"Come inside and we'll fix him up, poor little dude!" America laughed, walking back in and setting your daughter down.
The two siblings were twins, actually. The boy had bright blue eyes and short [your h/c] hair. The girl had your eyes and longer dirty-blonde hair. Both children had one hair sticking out, the boy a cowlick and the girl a hair curl.
You walked over to the kitchen sink where America stood. Setting the feisty little boy on the counter, you patted his head gently.
America x reader- Why do you love me? So yeah(Hey this my first reader insert, I hope you guys like. Something I did in my free time and please give me some feedback, if you guys like I might just continue writing. So yeah enjoy~)
"F/N!!!!" I woke up screaming. I had an awful nightmare that my precious (F/N) decided to leave me for someone else. The room was still dark so I start patting the sides to make sure she was still there. I finally felt her form and immediately hug it.
"Nghh..." (F/N) groaned and buried her face in the pillow. I held her tighter and take in her smell. 'Oh god, I can't imagine a day without her,' I thought, but then I begin to wonder. 'Why does she love me?' I glance over her figure and push some hair strands out of her peaceful face. 'I mean seriously dude~She's like a perfect 10! I gotta know!'
I proceed to nudge her, "(F/N), (F/N)." Nothing. I start poking her squishy face to get a reaction. "(F/N), (F/N)," I repeat and I could feel her face twitch
Americat x Reader
Even if you had no intention of getting another pet this soon, you had an idea of a type of cat you’d like; energetic, friendly, and playful. If you had a cat that was more isolated and quiet, it would feel just as empty as it already did around your house. Loud choruses of mewling from the kitten pen made you turn. ‘Well, kittens are playful and energetic,’ you thought to yourself. ‘Not to mention a kitten would have a longer life with me than an adult.’ You decided to give it a try, making your way over to the little pen to stand by Bella.
The woman noticed your presence, patting the spot beside her to come in and sit down. “Make sure Yao doesn’t get in. He’s awfully fond of some of these kittens.” She stated, writing down something on a clipboard you hadn’t noticed she had. Never the less, you took up the available spot in the pen and looked towards each kitten curiously.
The one with the brown paws, tail, ear
Marry Me (America x Reader)
‘Were could that blonde be?’ you thought to yourself as you walked around town searching for America. He promised he would call, but never did. You were really worried.
‘What if Artie put a curse on him! Or worse... forced him to eat his cooking!’ after that horrid thought, your searching became more frantic. You nearly turned the whole city up side down.
You then realized that you never checked his house. Feeling like an idiot, you quickly rushed toward said destination.
You knocked on America’s door, hoping that it would swing open, but alas it stayed shut. You knocked a couple more times and the door never budged.
You sighed and reached under the mat for the spare key. You quickly unlocked the door and rushed in.
The first thing you spotted was a little note card attached to a red ribbon. You picked up said note card. The handwriting on the note was no doubt, America’s.
You silently skimmed over the note:
“Hey, [Name]! Glad you finally mad
Video Games AmericaXReaderHe'd found it!
His baby blue eyes were sparkling as he looked over the video game gleefully. He'd finally found it! It'd taken him weeks of searching this his large as his appatite house, but somehow Alfred F. Jones found Super Mario Bros buried in his top secret hamburger stash.
Well, he knew exactly what to do now: go over to the house of his video game bro, ____, pop that fucker in, and play until he could no longer use empty Mountain Dew bottles to release his piss(something Alfred had to do more than once on his gamer days)
Lazy fatass though he might be, when he had motivation(or a coupon for a free Big Mac) Alfred could run pretty damn fast, so it was no surprise that he was at your house in no time. Being Alfred, he didn't bother knocking and invited himself inside. "Hey bro, I finally found it! Let's go play!" He recieved no response, seeing as no one was on the first floor.
He assumed you were in your room and ran upstairs. What he didn't assume was that you
"Does everyone in america have a gun?"
Alfred F. Jones: also known as America, turned to see his friend (your name), surfing the internet, a keen look in her eyes as she scanned each word on the depicted site she was on.
"Whaa-dude what you readin'?" Alfred just chuckled, hoping she would ignore not getting an answer.
Well that sure wasn't gunna happen.
"Does everyone in america have a gun?" she asked again, earing only a yawn and a stretch from Alfred.
"No (your name), not EVERYONE in america has a gun."
"Okay.." she mumbled, and continued to search on the same sight. A few moments later, while Alfred was chowing down on a tastely hamburger, (your name)'s voice rang through his ears before he could even taste the meat or lettuce.
"What now dude?" he asked, hoping she'd be quick so he could get on with his meal.
"Is it ture that everyone in America eats Macdonald's on an everyday basis?"
Alfred had to think for a moment.
"Nope, dude...why you-"
"Are american people always racist?"
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A two-time Community Volunteer for the deviantART Related category, Anne is well-known as a positive, helpful force. She is the community's resident expert when it comes to CSS (Cascading Style Sheets), and her personal gallery offers a wide variety of tutorials for new and experienced coders alike. In addition, each winter she hosts a calendar project encouraging members to create Journal designs for all to use, bringing more creativity to the community.
It is with immense gratitude that we acknowledge Anne as the recipient of the Deviousness Award for October 2014. Read More