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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?
"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
"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?"
"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 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
Germany x Reader- The Internet
"Hey, Germany." You cracked a smile, peering over at the blond german and away from the bright, blinding computer screen you had been staring at for so long.
Italy and you had been scouring the internet for hours, looking for nothing in particular. Just a few moments ago the two of you had found something called 'babynames.com'. It had caught your intrest, so you clicked on it to see what it was about. Just like the name implied, it was a websight with nothing but baby names. At the top of the screen you could look up any name you wanted and see what it stould for, and what gender the name was supposed to belong to. At the bottom, you could look up names under French, Japanese, Indian, Spanish, and so on. The moment you spotted names you could look up in German, a wide, evil smile spread across your face.
"Ja?" Germany asked, looking up from the newspaper he had been so interested in.
"Germany, Devi vedere questo~!" Italy laughed, pointing at the screen.
The german let out a heavy sigh
Germany x Reader: Love LettersYou were flipping through your Calculus notebook, trying to find the page you had written your homework on. When you finally arrived, a small slip of paper was also there. You lifted the paper curiously, and when you turned it around, the printed words shocked you.
You are so beautiful.
How could someone like you
Ever love someone so awful like me?
You looked around, surveying everyone. You hadn't seen anyone anywhere close to your things for the twenty minutes you had already been in class, and the only ones who had access to your things was Ludwig Beilschmidt and Honda Kiku, but you knew very well that they wouldn't leave little depressing love notes for you.
You were tempted to crumple up the note but instead, you simply tucked it into a random page in your Calculus notebook and started reviewing your homework, making sure your answers were correct.
"Are you okay?" the deep voice of Ludwig said beside you. The German accent was reassuring, and you looked up with a smile and a
Germany x Reader (Kissing Booths)"____! I vill not allow you to do zat!"
"'Not allow'? Tsk! You're not the boss of me!"
Ludwig frowned at your response, blushing in annoyance when he knew that you were right. You grinned triumphantly at his reaction, picking up a box full of decorations and heading off in a different direction. However, he stepped in front of you, his stern eyes showing that he wasn't going to let you go that easily.
"As a friend, I am telling you zat zis is a dangerous idea," the blonde said with extreme seriousness.
This resulted in you rolling your (insert colour) eyes again, sighing in exasperation, "Ludwig, it's a kissing booth. It's not like I'm going to war."
Ludwig could feel an anger vein pop up on his forehead; you sure loved to push his buttons. He attempted to stare you down and intimidate you with his bigger frame. However, the bored expression you wore was evidence that it wasn't working. He continued to reason with you, "Zere are boys in our school who vould leap at this chance."
“There’s no way.”
“It’s not possible.”
“Oh, ja, it is!” Gilbert retorted to Ludwig and _____ as they sat in the airport, waiting for their luggage.
_____ rolled her eyes. “Gil, it’s impossible. There is absolutely no way you can put your entire fist in your mouth.”
“Ja, there is! Watch this!” As promised, Gilbert executed the stunt, inserting his fist gracelessly into his mouth, and winning the cheers of his best friends Antonio and Francis. Contorting his jaw, he managed to slip his fist back out and wipe his saliva off onto his pant leg.
Ludwig face-palmed. “Mein Gott. What is wrong with mein bruder?”
“Oh, he’s not that bad,” assured _____, putting her hand on his shoulder.
He stiffened at this, and blushed when her hand remained there. He had had feelings for her for some time now, and he would be confused whenever his heart fluttered at the very thought of h
You Don't Have to Ask Germany X Reader
You and Germany had spent all day out in town, doing random things together. It would have been a lovely day had it not been for the sudden downpour that started. Well that, and the fact that Germany's overall attitude was extremely awkward and suspicious. The two of you were now in his car, completely drenched. “Well, that was fun. I needed another shower today anyway.” You smiled wide at Germany.”
“Yeah. Sorry about that. The weather didn't call for any rain today.” Germany fiddled around with his keys until finally getting them in the ignition. Now the car wouldn't start. He sighed. “It's just one thing after another. Stay in here, a don't want you any more wet.” Germany got out of the car, opened up the hood and started looking around. A few minutes later he got back in, looking like a wet puppy. “I think I fixed it.” He did, the car started without a problem.
“Yay. Go German engineering.&
Button mashing (GermanyXReader)“You ready?”
“I was born ready.” You told your albino friend with a smirk which he mirrored deviously. “So be it zhen!” With that comment the match started and you both begun to pummel each other’s character.
The button mashing that commenced would have made even Alfred stare at in admiration and shock. Unfortunately though at the last moment Gilbert’s man kicked at ‘your’ legs, making you fall to the ground and as such you lost.
“The usual stakes?” You muttered with a grimace. Snickering like a happy dog, he grinned and nodded. “Great...”
The stakes you always played with were these: if you lost, you had to take an item of clothing off. Kind of like strip poker, but then without the card game and a videogame in its place. So without further ado, you unzipped your hoodie and dropped it to the side.
Goosebumps spread across your skin like wildfire on the forest floor. The room the two of you were sitting
Germany x Reader - Sneaking Kisses
The sound of a door creaking open resonated within the walls of the large house, followed by the sound of rustling clothes and a sigh. "I'm home," Ludwig called out gruffly, not even bothering to take off his jacket—instead, he just settled for unbuttoning it, before making his way to his room and collapsing onto his waiting bed.
Ears perking as you heard Ludwig return home, you abandoned your task at hand, which had been folding his clothes, and approached his bedroom.
You had been Ludwig's house maid for a while now; after having been short of money, all thanks to your father, you had started to search for a job. For months you were unable to find one; the most common reasons being that someone had already applied, or you just didn't like the job at all. Redemption came in the form of a phone call, though, as the strict German had called you in request that you'd be his house maid. Apparently he was busy, and needed someone at his house for a few months to cle
A cake for my savoir (GermanyXReader)Ludwig bit his lip, his blue eyes narrowed at the sight before him. You and Gilbert were on the couch together, looking as though you were plotting something. The two of you were sitting so close to each other that you were practically in Gilbert’s lap.
A vein throbbed on his forehead as he analysed everything you did. You were laughing for one, the albino’s arm slung casually over your shoulders. Ludwig clasped his fist so hard that he felt his fingernails being marked on his palm.
“C’mon tell!” You said cheerfully, ruffling his hair. “No touchey!” Gilbert joked back, drawing back from you so his hairdo was a safe distance away from your grabbing hands. “Oh hey West.” You blushed and disentangled yourself from the Prussian, making him whine.
Your crush stood in the doorway, gripping the doorknob tensely. “Do that sort of thing in your own room.” He sneered at his brother, striding past the two of you into the kitchen. H
"(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
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Bluefley has a gallery filled with artwork that whisks you off in to a Sci-fi daydream, and keeps you captivated for hours. Marc has been a member of our community for over a decade and has achieved nothing but success with his astounding commitment to interacting with the community, sharing a prolific amount of video tutorials and generally being an all round rockstar deviant. It is no joke that we are absolutely delighted to award the Deviousness Award for April 2014 to ... Read More