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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
You pull a Small bit of stuffing from the hat. "Uh, who's is this?"
"That's actually my bears, who's 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. "I'm Canada… "
"I know who you are." You had always had a crush on him; of course you would know his name.
"R-really? Wow, that's cool. I know your name too, your "_____" I think it's a really pretty name." He moved a little closer to where you were huddled.
"Thanks, sorry, I'm not good at these kinds of things." You could feel your face growing warm, you had never been so happy it was dark before.
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
Hetalia Seven Minutes In Heaven Italy
You Reach into the hat, swirling your hand around to mix up the items. You then feel for the nearest thing to your hand, and pull out a mushroom. "Umm, a mushroom? Who would put that in here?"
"Ohh! That's-a me-a!" I have such good luck, getting such a pretty girl!" Italy jumped of the couch and grabbed your hand, excitedly dragging you into the closet.
America followed you two over and began closing the door. "Have fun you two! Remember, only seven minutes now." He smiled as he shut the door completely and locked it from the outside.
Italy gave you no time at all before wrapping his arms around your waist and kissing you square on the mouth. "So "______" are you happy to be here with me?" Italy moved his hand slightly lower down your back so as to get a feel of your back side.
You let out a slight squeal in response to his action. "Of course I am Feliciano." You could feel a blush creeping up your neck" I've always… you know, had a slight crush on you, ever since I foun
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 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,
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
Hetalia Seven Minutes In Heaven Russia
You pull a white flower petal from the hat. "Oh, this is beautiful, who's is this?"
"That would be mine" Everyone but you stiffens at the familiar sound of Russia's voice.
"Who the heck invited Him man? He creeps the mess outa me!" America backed away from you two dropping the hat in the process.
"Ahh, you did, I got your invitation in the mail." Russia smiled at you sweetly, taking your hand and led you to the closet. Ukraine locked the door for you because America wouldn't go near it.
"I am not liking the dark very much." Russia held you close to him as if looking for comfort.
"It's not so bad" You said digging in your pocket for your iPod. Finding it you turned it on and used it for light. "There, is that better?"
"Yes, thank you, "Russia let you go. "Oh you are so krasivaja, I never noticed before now. I knew you were sweet but…" Russia slowly touched your face, as if trying not to scare you. ""_______" are you afraid of me, like everyone else?" You had never been afraid of
Hetalia Seven Minutes In Heaven Sweden
"Hey, you all know who's going to go next? No? Well, I'll tell you then." America pointed straight to you and nodded. "That's right dudes, she is. Now get up here and get your item already."
"I'm coming America, seriously, calm down." You walked up to the hat and pulled out a black tie from within. "Oh, this is fancy" You tie the tie around your neck. "Anyone want to claim it?"
"I think he already walked into the closet." America walked you over to the closet. "Yup, he's in here. See you in seven dudes! Don't do anything crazy in there." With that he locked the door.
"It looks good on you; you can keep it if you want." You immediately recognized the mellow voice to be Sweden's.
"Oh, the tie? Thanks, but how can you see in this darkness?" You sat on the floor next to Sweden.
"I don't think it's really all that dark. Perhaps my eyes are just better at adjusting to the dark than most people are." Sweden wrapped you up in a hug. Your eyes were beginning to focus; you c
Hetalia Seven Minutes in heaven Greece
You pull a stuffed kitten out of the hat. "Oh my god, it's so cute, can I please keep it?" No one answered you. "I'll take that as a yes, but who's is this?" Romano threw a tomato at Greece, waking him up.
"Hmm, what I miss?" Greece rubbed his eyes and stretched. "Oh, you have my gift I forgot what that means " He stood there with a confused smile on his sleepy face.
"Oh come on man, really? Take the girl to the closet already." America pushed you two into the closet and locked the door. "Now don't fall asleep on her ok?"
"But it's so cozy in here, and dark too." Greece yawned and cuddled into your lap. "Would you like to take a nap with me?" He laid his head in your lap and wrapped his arms around your waist. "Your very comfortable "____", I could sleep on you easily."
You ran your fingers through his messy brown hair and smiled."I think you could sleep anywhere, but thank you."
He tugged at your shirt like a child. "Would you like to lay down with me?" He seemed to b
"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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Lilyas has dedicated herself to making our community a brighter place with her vibrant artwork and infectious enthusiasm for interacting with others in our community. It has certainly paid off, as many deviants flock to her page on a daily basis to let her know how much of an inspiration she is. We absolutely agree, and couldn't let all that hard work go without recognition, so it's with great pride that we bestow the Deviousness Award for March 2014, to ... Read More