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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'
"(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
"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
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.
"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
“(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,
"(Name), I wouldn't try it." your Danish friend Matias laughed, while chugging down the last bit of beer in his mug. "He doesn't care."
"Of course he will!" you protested, clicking to the site you were looking at before.
Matias just laughed again, and continued his way into the kitchen in hopes of finding more beer to survive off of.
"He will listen.." you mumble to yourself, scrolling down the page to find different 'Swedish Stereotypes'.
It was or maybe would be the only way to get his attention. You tried before, but it never seemed to work. You'd ask him some questions and maybe have a chance at finally talking to the quiet man.
"Oh Berwald!" you called over, seeing him step in the doorway with Tino and Lukas. "Do you have any time?"
He only nodded his head and grunted, giving you the impression he didn't really care. Biting you lip, you wondered if Matias was right.
"Where's the idiot?" Lukas asked, holding two brown bags mostly filled with beer inside. Probably for Matias.
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.
HetaliaxReader - Dating Game (Number 1)
I sighed, knowing that since I was in this predicament I would just have to make the best of it. After a moment of thought, I sighed again and recited my chosen number.
“Alright!” I heard one of the voices behind me exclaim. “I get to go on a date with _____!”
I turned around and looked at my best friend, a smirk working its way onto my face. I grinned at him as I stood up from my seat. “So, I’m stuck with you, huh?”
Alfred laughed. “Yep! Now, c’mon!” He grabbed my hand in a friendly sort of way and pulled me along to the front door.
I looked back at the others. “See you guys later, I guess!”
I heard Gilbert cackle and say, “We won’t wait up for you~!”
I rolled my eyes as I continued to follow Alfred. “So, where to?”
Alfred smiled at me. “A movie sound good?”
I returned the smile, a bit uncertain. “Sure.”
The trip to the movie th
CIRL DenmarkxReaderYou weren't sure yet if you felt like braving what looked like a November snow storm to get to class. I mean, you only had one class today, so was it really worth it to leave the sanctuary of your home? Did you really want to risk life and limb in order to get to a class that only lasted an hour and fifteen minutes? Were you really okay with risking your health and personal safety for a greater education? Why were you still asking yourself questions? The answer had been a definite no from the start.
So, not regretting your decision at all, you went into your kitchen to make some hot chocolate and grab a piece of cake from the fridge. As the milk you were using warmed up in the microwave, you headed to your bedroom to grab a blanket. The microwave beeped and you went back into the kitchen and mixed the milk into the powder. Collecting your food items, you padded into the living room to watch a movie. You browsed through your DVDs and finally settled on The Emperor's New Groove. You popp
Hetalia Seven Minutes In Heaven America
You pull out a piece of cheese from the hat. "Yeah this is creative, who's is this?"
"Dude that's totally mine!" America throws the hat at Ukraine, picks you up and locks you two inside 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 out and tell him that.
"A little better? Come on now "_____" You've hurt my feelings… I'm the best, the hero! I'm really glad you picked me, I wouldn't want to be stuck in a dark, cramped closet with anyone else." America snuggled you tight and nuzzled you on the neck. "Besides, I know you like me… Italy told me. He couldn't keep a secret if his life depended on it."
"I have no idea what you're talking about, I never told Italy anything like that…" You were blushing now.
"Really? Because he said that you had
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
Hetalia SpainxReader - Stuck In a Box
"Antonio Fernandez Carriedo!"
The Spaniard turned around at the sound of his name being called. His eyes fell upon _____, his best friend for as long as he could remember (excluding Gilbert and Francis, of course). His lips curled up into a happy smile when he saw her-- even though she was glaring daggers at him.
"Hola, bonita," he said with the big grin still on his face. "How have you been?"
"Oh, just fine, thank you," she replied, crossing her arms. There was a razor-sharp edge building in her voice.
"What's the matter, bonita? You okay?"
"Oh, yeah!" She stomped past him angrily, heading inside the house. "Everything's peachy-keen!"
Antonio turned his head in her direction, furrowing his brows. "Bonita?"
_____ stepped into the house where Gilbert and Ludwig (and currently _____) lived, furiously kicking off her shoes after wiping her feet.
"_____! _____!" called a voice frantically from the hallway.
_____ saw Gilbert running toward her with a panicked look on his face.
"What is it,
Your Turn- AmericaxReader
"Alfred, come on," you groaned when Alfred would continually ignore you, poking his cheek in annoyance, "Get up and off your sexy ass already and go check up on the baby..."
Alfred smirked faintly in his pretend sleep, deciding to just encase you in his strong arms and buff chest to keep you from moving. You frowned at your husband and the sounds of your darling child calling for the sleepy parents from the nursery room.
Sleepily, you said to Alfred again, "Please Alfred, it's your turn to check on the baby..."
Alfred lifted one of his eyelids to allow his piercing blue eyes to stare at you, "Why should I, babe?"
You rolled your eyes at Alfred's playful banter, deciding to immediately step up Alfred's motivation towards getting out of the warm pillows, cocoon of blankets and your hot body temperature. Slowly sitting up, you slung a leg over Alfred's other side, effectively straddling him, "Because, big boy, if you don't get up," You pulled on his Nantucket hard, whispering
America X Reader: Sleepy Time with America
Oh great. There he was. Mister America in all his glory
at your house in superman Pajamas . A hamburger plush pillow
and that same goofy grin of his. How did this all start
Oh yeah, you remember now
XXXXX XXXXX XXXXX XXXXX XXXX XXXXX XXXX
"My goodness,_________! Are you okay? You look tired ",
England spoke concerned.
"Y-Yeah I'm just fine Englan- !!!"
"__-_______! Careful! Don't hit your
head on the table! You could hurt yourself!"
The hand you had used to support your tired head had given up
and now your face was in the smack fricken center of your desk.
"Are you sure you're okay? You don't look too good
Maybe you have a cold or fever "
You lifted your head and Arthur placed the back of his hand
to your forehead. You sighed and looked at him.
He was a true gentleman.
"Nope. I don't think you have a fever
Maybe you just had a rough morning "
"For the past few days I have gotten NO SL
HetaliaxReader - Dating Game (Number 8)
I sighed, knowing that since I was in this predicament I would just have to make the best of it. After a moment of thought, I sighed again and recited my chosen number.
Behind me, I heard something that sounded like a mix between a cheer and a cat-call. I whirled around to see, and the man I’d presumably picked confidently stepped forward from the group. He stopped in front of my seat and took my hands, beaming at me. “ˇFantástico! I get to go on a date with _____!”
I wasn’t quite sure what to think, whether to be pissed at the fact that I got him, or a bit elated from the fact that I did pick him. All I could do was smile as he pulled me to my feet and led me out the front door.
“So, where are we going?” I asked, when we were walking down the front sidewalk.
Antonio flashed a cheeky grin back at me. “My favorite place.”
“This is your favorite place?”
"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?"
on old sanzu - absolutely true fictionlast fall i stole my friend down by the tama river. we sang. we danced. we skipped dead fish like rocks and watched them get swallowed by the undertow. we got sick off of bad chinese food and went skinny-dipping and then a week later she drowned herself.
her uncle was a yakuza, i think, but he really just wanted to be al pacino or something. anyway, she loved him a lot. maybe that’s why she went down the way she went down; cement shoes. not real cement, but it was the same idea. she had two cloth bags with yellow-painted cinderblocks inside, and they were tied to her ankles like the prisoners’ chains from o brother where art thou.
in my mind’s eye i can see her, limping dreadfully close to the edge of the current, her left hand gripping at her breasts through a loose t-shirt. kneeling by the wastelands, elbows in the gravel, crawling forward out into the water. angry like a dermis under wool, all teeth and salt and sand. sleepy, submissive, sublimated.
Keep in Touch!
^Nyx-Valentine arrived in our community and started whipping everyone into a frenzy with her relentless desire to bring the Artistic Nude and Fetish galleries to the fore. 9 years later, and it's safe to say that Nyx is not only a leader as a photographer in these galleries, but she has also established herself as a much saught after model. ^... Read More