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"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?"
"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) 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
"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'
"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
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.
"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
“(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,
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 Seven Minutes In Heaven Canada
"Hey dude, I thought I told you it was your turn. What are you doing still sitting over there?" Grinning wide, America pulled you to your feet. "Go on, get your item and get in the closet."
"Right, I'm going. I kind of forgot it was my turn." You reached your hand into the hat, and quickly pulled a small bit of stuffing from the hat. "Uh, who's is this?"
"That's actually my bears, whose name I forgot, but it's my item." Canada was standing behind you, blushing furiously.
"Well, you two had better get in the closet before that bear comes back looking for his fluff!"America walked you two to the closet. "I'll warn you if he shows up." With that you were locked inside the dark closet with Canada. You quickly found a spot in the corner and sat down, hoping to evade him for the seven minutes.
"You probably don't know who I am, so I'll introduce myself." He blushed awkwardly. "I'm Canada. "
"I know who you are, Canada. There's no need for introd
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
Hetalia RomanoxReader - Stuck in a Box
“Gil! What the hell are you doing?!”
“You’ll thank me later, Frau!” he said, the smirk on his face evident in his voice, as he carried me over his shoulder up the stairs in his house. He reached the top and went into a room where Antonio and Francis were waiting. The two were sitting on a footlocker, and I could have sworn I heard muffled obscenities come from it.
“Ready?” the albino asked.
The other two nodded, and positioned themselves to get off and open the footlocker. Gilbert took me closer to it and threw me inside the split second they opened the lid. When I was fully inside, they immediately closed the lid and––judging by the clatter following after––locked it.
“What the hell?!” I groaned out, still trying to process everything that had just happened.
I blinked, then peered through the dark to see a familiar face. My eyes widened. “Lovino?!”
“What the hell are
Go the Distance
"Hey Matthew?" You quietly asked as you softly knocked on his door, and stepping on to the maple hard-wood floor.
"O-Oh h-hey, _____." The quiet Canadian stuttered upon your arrival.
"What's up?" You asked awkwardly standing in the middle of the red and white room, Kumajiro was happily napping in Matthew's lap.
"N-Nothing, j-just thinking." He shyly said looking down at the sleeping bear. "Y-You can sit down. O-Only i-if you want t-to though."
"Well you seemed pretty deep in thought, you can tell me you know right?" You stated placing your hand on his and sitting next to him, a rosy blush spread across the Canadian's usually pale cheeks.
"T-The other countries didn't notice me at the meeting again." He whispered.
''I'm sorry Mattie." You sadly sad resting your head on the blushing Canadian's shoulder.
"D-Do you want to know something _-_____?" He stuttered again.
"Yeah, sure what?" You asked gazing into his tear filled violet hued eyes.
"I-I h-have often d-dreamed of a place, w-w
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,
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
Smooth Move [ Canada x Reader ]
A beautiful day. Today was a beautiful day. Yet Germany had to ruin it by ordering the countries to come together. [Name] knew that this plan should work, that ideally the world would be a perfect place if all the countries came together to discuss problems to prevent fighting. Rather, fighting was inevitable in this building.
[Name] had arrived earlier than usual, and noticed a few empty chairs among the groups of people. There was a seat next to Romano, or South Italy, but he was looking moody as his olive green eyes scanned over the room, judging the rest of the countries with a scowl. [Name] supposed the empty seat was for Spain, for he had yet to arrive and he was one of very few people who could tolerate the easily-angered Italian.
There was a seat next to China, but he appeared to be in deep thought as he looked out the nearby window. His deep amber eyes were slightly fogged over, his eyebrows scrunched together as he pondered life's many questions. [Name] didn't want to bother
Inside The Cocoon. Canada X reader
You sat at home rather bored on a warm, lazy Saturday morning wishing for something to do. You had read all your books, beaten all your video games, and the next episode of your favorite anime didn't come out until Thursday. You slumped deeper into the couch and let out a long sigh. Maybe something was on TV. As you reached for the remote you heard your phone go off, it was Canada, you quickly answered. "Hey Canada, what's up?"
His voice was so quiet on the other end you had to turn your phone up just to hear him. "Nothing really." He paused. "I, I wanted to know if you were busy today. There's a new butterfly sanctuary opening by Niagara falls, and I'd really like to take you, if you'd like to go that is.
Glad to have something to do, you agreed in an instant. "Sure, that would be great."
You could hear him smiling through the phone. "Okay, I'll head right over then. See you soon." Canada arrived not long after you two hung up. The ride there was a bit awkw
Hetalia GermanyxReader - Stuck In a Box
"Ugh," groaned Gilbert as he downed the rest of his drink. "I'm so bored!"
"Well, this is your party, mon ami," chided his best friend Francis. "We should do something entertaining."
"Oh! I know!" said Gilbert's other best friend, Antonio. "Let's play Hide-and-Seek!"
"Good idea!" Gilbert climbed onto a tabletop. "Everybody! I've got a cure for all of your boredom! We'll play Hide-and-Seek!"
_____, hearing her friend's announcement, put down her drink and smiled. "That sounds like fun!"
"Seriously?" said her boyfriend, Ludwig, with a raised eyebrow. "Games are for kleine Kinder."
"C'mon, Luddy!" _____ took his hand, making him blush. "We all need to take time to play. Loosen up!"
Ludwig sighed. He could never say no to her. "Alright, schatz. I'll play one game."
_____ pumped her fist in the air. "Yes! Hey, Gil! Luddy and I'll play!"
"Awesome! Alright, peeps! You go hide! Toni, Francis, and I'll be it! Go!" And with that, the Bad Touch Trio turned around, covered their eyes
"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?
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