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"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
"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) 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,
"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.
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.
Scotland x Reader- Summer Camp"Allister!" Exclaimed Alfred as he turned to you. His smile slowly faded and silence came over the students. You turned you head to look at the red-headed country with a gulp. Everyone knew that. Allister Kirkland was a delinquent. It was surprising that they still let him come to the camp. You looked around at everyone as they all seemed to give you a look of sympathy.
"Well.. Let's continue." Alfred mumbled before continue to call out the names. You looked back over at Allister. He had a small frown on those thin lips of his and her arms were crossed over his chest. He had an obvious look of uninterest on his face. You didn't actually mind being in a group with him. He was always somewhat kind to you.Besides, you formed a bit of a crush on the fiery Allister.
You decided you were gonna make him like the time he spent you, make him actually well.. Enjoy himself.
"Here you are." Alfred said and handed you a smooth, blue sheet of of paper. He gave you a smile before walking away. Yo
Taming the Beast Scotland X Reader
"I hope you're ready for this, she can be pretty intimidating you know. But don't get your hopes too awful high either, like I said before, she's a really shy one that girl. So we'll just have to wait and see. I did bring her favorite food though, so hopefully she'll come out today." Scotland had you out in the middle of the Loch Ness, in a very small boat. It looked like it may start pouring down rain at any minute. "She does love this kind of weather you know, makes it harder for people to spot her." He pulled some rather stinky cheese from a barrel he'd brought aboard the boat. "It's Vieux Boulogne, one of the stinkiest cheeses in the world. But it's Nessie's favorite. She should be able to smell it no matter where she is."
"I don't doubt it, that stuff smells awful." You covered your nose with your hand and scrunched up your face in disgust.
"I know it. I don't know what would make a lovely sea serpent like her like such a pungent cheese. Oh that m
Drunken sweetness (ScotlandXReader)A bang. The front door had been thrown open, banging against its hinges as someone else banged in. “(Y/n)!! I’m hoooome~” Not again.
Allistor grinned lazily, opening his arms for you as he stumbled inside. Why did you even wait up for him anymore? You should’ve known he’d come home drunk like always. With a couple more drunken slurs of what you guessed was your name, he fell to his knees in front of you.
You shook your head at him and sighed, putting down the magazine you’d engrossed yourself in. Stroking his cheek, to which he nuzzled his face in your hands. “I’m back hooome~” He murmured, pressing kisses on your palms.
“W-why’re ya still awake..?” He questioned, resting his chin on your folded up legs. “I was waiting for you stupid.” Why did you still wait up for him like this? Oh yes, it was because you were head over heels for the redheaded Scot and his affection, which tended to be more prominent
ScotlandxReader Pocket Watch
These are the human names I'm using for the Kirkland Brothers :3
North Ireland- Sean
"Can I get this mummy?!" Your six year old son held up the package of sweets excitedly.
You held back a tired sigh. "Of course honey."
Colin squealed with delight, tossing the package into your shopping cart. You allowed your self a small smile.
He alternating between sitting in the cart and walking next to you during the shopping trip. After wards, you walked home. One hand holding a grocery bag, the other clasped around your son's small hand.
"Hmm?" You glanced down at him. Colin's bright red hair shone in the afternoon light.
"Why do you look sad?"
You blinked, unconsciously reaching up with a hand and touched your cheek.
"I'm not sad....Just tired."
It was a half truth
Scotland x Reader - After Hours DrinksYou, Antonio, Gilbert, and Francis stumbled down your street, singing loudly and ignoring the shouts to shut up. You three had just finished with work, then happy hour, and the Bad Touch Trio were kind enough to walk you home.
"WE ARE THE CHAMPIONS, MY FRIENDS AND WE'LL KEEP ON FIGHTING TILL THE END!" You three sang or screamed. Then you turned and pointed at Gilbert and he air guitared the rest. Antonio and Francis suddenly got a devilish look when you reached your front yard. They stood on either side of you and kissed your cheek, dangerously close to your mouth. You were much to soused to notice, but some one did.
"YOU BE GETTIN OF ME LAWN AN ME GIRL!" came a loud Scottish shout. Allitster marched down the lawn and scooped you up, carrying you back to the house. The trio of course followed in the house, as Allister was to busy with you to stop them. He set you on the couch then turned to the grinning trio.
"You know, there are three of us, one of you and one of her," he s
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
ScotlandxReader: Chicken "Name your game Iain."
The man scanned the area around him, the empty playground in the middle of the night to see an abandoned swing set under the light of a nearby street lamp. He grinned.
"Whoever jumps aff at th' hi'est point wins." Both of you grinned, fire in your eyes as you went over to the swings.
Both of you started pumping your legs back and forth, going higher and higher. The only think running through your minds was to beat the other and do so with pride. Iain was about two yards high when he jumped off, knowing you couldn't stand the height you were at.
Looking down at the ground, you could feel your face pale. Still, Iain was standing there, grinning in content with his arms crossed and his hip out,"A bawherr scared, aren't we lass?"
"No!" You cried back, going up higher and higher. Still, you wanted to beat him not matter how scared. He didn't assume you would jump off from that height which was why he
Jealous Brother (Scotland x Reader x England)
You were going over to England's house today. He invited you over to have some tea with him. Upon arriving you heard some yelling coming from inside his home and the door was slightly open. You open the door and walk in silently.
You walk quietly to the kitchen and peek in to see England and a red haired man with him. "Ay! You never told me you had a lassie coming over wee Arthur!" said the man with a thick scottish accent. 'This must be Scotland....' you thought. England said something about having an older brother named Scotland.
England looks over his brother's shoulder to see you. "_______! Your here!" He smiles as he walks over and hugs you. You smile and hug back. Scotland glares a bit and moves his brother out of the way and he looks you up and down and smiles. He smells of cigar and cologne. For some odd reason you liked that smell.
"Here ________. Have some earl grey tea." He smiles and hands you the tea which you gladly take and drink. "This is really
Okay guys a brief explanation for why kitty Scot is such a weird cat. It's mainly because, I think that if Scotland was a cat, he'd be a hyperactive little shit. xD That's all.
Making decisions had always been a slight problem for you and today was no exception. You stared at the throng of milling cats. You could only pick one, but they were all so cute and you wanted to take them all with you. But you couldn't.
Sighing, you pursed your lips. Maybe you should come back tomorrow after you had researched the different types of cats.
Turning to Elizabeta, you smiled apologetically. "I don't know if I'm really ready to adopt a cat yet."
She nodded, grabbing a flyer off the near by wall. It explained the purpose of the shelter and the hours. You thanked her smiled, taking the flyer. When you left, you felt a small tinge of guilt for not buying a cat.
Alistair Kirkland, let out a huge breath of smoke, as he peered down over the couch arm to see his friend (your name) flipping open a laptop screen.
“What are ye doin'?” he asked, his thick accent made her want to swoon.
“I want to ask you some questions.” she answered, hoping her friend would agree instead of finding a bypass to avoid it.
“Fine then.” he grumbled. “But be quick.”
By then, (your name) was already on the apparent 'site' and began to scroll down the page.
“Is is true that Scottish are all gingers?”
Alistair looked to the top of his head to see a little glimpse of his red hair. He already knew he had RED hair, but the question (your name) just said sounded dumb.
“No lass. Not all Scottish are...'gingers'.”
(Your name) gave him a cute smiled, before continuing down the page. Alistair, however still didn't get the idea.
“All Scottish people eat haggis?”
“No (your name).” Alistair
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