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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?"
“(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,
"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
"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
"(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.
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.
A Norwegian's Diary ::NorwayxReader::You let out a long sigh as you exited out of the meeting room
“These meeting’s are absolutely pointless…”
You made your way down the long corridor
“[Name]! [Name]! [Name] [Name] [Name]!”
You stop walking and turn around only to be tackled by a large figure
“Ow! That hurt Mathias!” You knocked the Dane on the head
He had a large grin planted on his mouth, wider than ever.
“Guess what I got my hands on~”
Now that he said something, you noticed he was holding something behind his back
You raised your eyebrows, then furrowed them
“What another pastry? Because if it is I’m going to--”
“No no no! Look!”
He shoves the unknown object in front of your face
Backing away slightly to get a better view you see it’s a little black book with a little bunny charm hanging out of it.
“…it’s a book…” was your smart response
Mathias started to jump up and down excitedly
NorwayXreader: dipped in butter
contains, like, 2 (not even bad) bad words...felt like I should put that out there...so, yeah... ENJOY!
"LOOK AT ME! MY NAME IS DENMARK AND I AM SO AWESOME I KISS _____ ASS!"
You gave the war cry as you ran down the halls of the quiet Nordic house. You ran into the living room to see Denmark, Norway, and Iceland. Everyone stared t you with pure confusion, until they saw what you were wearing.
You were Denmark's out fit, along with his heavy-ass axe. He jaw dropped.
"______! DON`T YOU DARE!" He got up from the table and tried to tackle you, but you ran out of the way. "WHY AARE YOU WEARING MY CLOTHES?!"
"You mean your ONLY pair of clothes?" You raised a brow. Hinting to him. He stared at you like 'WAT.' but then ran to his room.
He slammed open his closet doors to see NOTHING. You had completely hid ALL his clothes:
You handed Norway the big axe and winked at him. "Quick, hide this somewhere! I gotta change!" Norway and a small smile
Sleeping positions (RomaniaXReader)Blearily you blinked your eyes open, the familiar warm feeling as always present. Glancing down you confirmed what you’d suspected. Vladimir breathed out softly, his hair ruffled up completely and several curls sticking out from it.
He tightened his arms around you, snuggling his face deeper into your chest. Blushing slightly, you stroked his hair, attempting to at least straighten out some of it. You always seemed to end up in this position, no matter how you’d started the night before.
It didn’t seem that comfortable to you; his head was nowhere near his cushion and he was practically buried underneath the cover.
It was an adorable habit of his though, one you weren’t going to break anytime soon. As your musing continued, you smiled at him and due to his sleeping face you guessed he was still deeply in dreamland.
Well you were wrong.
“Ouch!” You squeaked, glaring down at the Romanian. “What was that for?”
He carried on nibbling on your
Jeg Er Glad I Deg means I Love You-Norway x ReaderNorway x Reader
Jeg Er Glad I Deg means I Love You
"Hallo?" you called out to the silent house as you shrugged out of your coat and placed your things down.
Silence greeted you.
"Anybody?" Your voice echoed through the house with no response and you frowned. Always, almost every single time, you came home to an empty home. It wasn't like it was early either. Your watch said it was well past 8:00 o'clock.
Oh well. There wasn't much you could do about it. No one "officially" lived here besides you, so you couldn't complain, but people tended to come and stay a night, or two, or ten. Usually it was the fun group of people known as the Nordics. The most common ones to stay were Emil, Mathias, and Lukas. Berwald and Tino preferred to stay with each other, but they did visit.
Lukas was supposed to be staying for the night, today. You guessed he just wasn't back yet. It was nice to come home and find someone in the house every once in awhile, however.
The house was large enough
CIRL NorwayxReaderShivering, you pulled your coat tighter around you and continued home. It was the middle of October and it was already freezing. Sighing, you kept walking down the sidewalk to your apartment. Your last class of the day had been canceled, and with nothing better to do, you decided to just head home to try and warm up.
You entered your apartment and closed the door behind you. Tossing your stuff onto the kitchen table, you put some water in a teapot and set it on the stove. While you waited for the water to boil, you went to your room to find something to read. You flicked through your books, and when you decided on one, you went back out to the kitchen. When the kettle started hissing, you took it off the stove and poured the water into a mug. Grabbing a teabag of your favorite tea, you plopped it in the mug and headed to the living room. Happily curling up on the couch, you set the mug down on the coffee table and started to read.
You'd been reading for about half an hour, when all of
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
"Come on Ice, call me onii-chan," said Norway with his usual poker face. "Repeat after me, o-nii-chan."
You groaned, this was the usual argument between the two brothers. "Ice please, you know he'll never stop until you do it."
Iceland shook his head, "Stop it, you're annoying our guest."
"__________ doesn't mind it, do you ____________?"
Not knowing how to respond without being rude, you opened your mouth then shut it and groaned letting your forehead hit the table.
"She does," said Iceland bluntly.
Norway frowned and poked you gently. You looked up revealing the red mark on your forehead from hitting the table. "Do you ____________?"
You sighed searching for the most diplomatic answer, "I don't like it when you guys argue. It's just not worth it."
"Don't you think that Iceland should call me onii-chan?"
You groaned and let your face fall to the table again. After about a half hour of arguing with Iceland, things got quiet. You could hear faint whispers then Iceland left you and Norwa
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,
That's How You Know
You were running down a long cement sidewalk in the middle of January. The freshly fallen snow was all around you and more was softly falling in your hair, dusting your coat in the fluffy substance. Your friend Mathias had told you to come over to his house which he shared with his four other friends, Emil, Tino, Lukas, and Berwald. Mathias' call sounded pretty urgent, so you immediately ran to their house as soon as you got the call. You walked up to the porch of the tall red bricked building and rang the door bell. The door swung open to reveal Mathias smirking smugly.
"Finally, you're here!" Mathias shouted as he grabbed your wrist and dragged you into the house.
"About that, exactly why am I here?" You asked as you yanked your wrist from the Dane's hold.
"It's Lukas! He's horribly ill!" Mathias dramatically cried.
"You've been drinking haven't you?" You asked him.
"Maybe just a bit." He laughed walking down the hall.
"He's definitely been drinking." You heard a voice say from behin
"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
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^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