LovinosRagazza

CanadaxReader - Ring Pop - One Shot ~6 years old~ "Alfred, give it back!" you shouted, chasing the laughing boy around the playground. "That's Matthew's Ring Pop! Give it back right now or else!" The louder twin laughed his head off and asked mockingly, "Or else what? You can't do anything to the hero! You're just a girl! Ha ha ha!" He stood on the other end of the picnic table where Francis, Arthur, and your mother sat. You skidded up to it and glared at him, jerking this way and that as he faked which direction he was gonna run. Finally, after losing your temper, you picked up the burger you had abandoned in order to chase Alfred and sn

                           2pCanadaxReader: Mentally Defective You slowly opened your eyes to a hot, white light. The first thing that comes to mind is how sore your body felt. “Oh jolly good! It looks like the young lady’s awake.” “It’s about time… Took so long to wake up… I was about to mess around with her to see if the little wimp was faking.” You turned to see three men. Two of them had blond hair, one with light blond hair and the other with a dirty blond hair that was put in a ponytail. The other had dark rust-colored hair with shades. Not soon after did you met with baby-blue eyes.

 Anglophile or Anglophil (ˈæŋɡləʊfɪl, -ˌfaɪl) — n 1.  a person having admiration for England or the English You weren't sure why you acted like this. Maybe it was those accents. Maybe it was the culture. Maybe it was… Okay, let's cut the crap shall we? You know exactly why you were like this. The reason was standing in front of you, right now, unaware of  your presence right now because his back to you. He had fuzzy eyebrows, loved god awful food and tea, had gawjus green eyes, and an accent that made you swoon. He was the personification of England, and he was the reason for your Anglophilia

"You idiot! Why can't you be more gentlemanly?!" England yelled at America. ______ rolled her eyes.  Here we go again,  she lamented. Why did England have to be so anal? Sure, America was ... immature at times, but that's what made him! Geez, you'd think he'd realize that already; he raised him, after all. Besides, ______ had never seen this gentleman side England was so proud of. The whole time she'd known him, he'd never done a single gentlemanly thing. And that pissed her off more. "Dude, chill." America chuckled, anime sweat on his head. "I will not 'chill'!" England fumed. "I raised you better than that! You need to grow up or the ot

Today was turning out to very boring for Arthur.  Even with his usually entertaining girlfriend ___________ over, this day was turning out to be boring. Of course, perhaps if said girlfriend was paying more attention to him rather than… whatever the hell she was looking at on her laptop, that might help things a little bit. "Remind me why I invited you over again?" He asked, annoyed. "You tell me." Was your oh-so-concerned reply. An anime vein popped on Arthur's head and he growled. "Gee, I don't know. Maybe I just wanted to spend time with my girlfriend. You know, without her laptop?" You groaned and rolled your eyes, which didn't leave

           You followed Grell's orders, walking up to the center of the room and placing your hand inside the bright red purse. After feeling around for a moment you come upon something easily recognizable. You lift it out of the handbag and look at it. "A toy spider. Whose is this?" "It's mine of course." Alois scoffed at your question. "You can keep that. I don't want it back. Think of it as a sort of charity." He grinned at you sarcastically. "Why are we still standing out here anyway? I want to get inside the closet, like five minutes ago." He grabbed your hand and quickly dragged you off to the closet. "Okay, let's do this." Grell foll

OKAY. SO. I originally wrote this to be a PluiexClaude, since she gave me the idea that Claude stalks me in the bathroom (it's actually just full of spiders). BUT. I'm changing it to a ClaudexReader. SINCE I CAN DO THAT I'M THE AUTHOR HERE. haha, on with the story. /// "CIEL! I LOVE YOU!" You screamed at the computer monitor, after watching the final episode of Black Butler season 2. It had been two days since you last left your house, only leaving your desk to grab food and use the washroom. And really not even then. You and your older brother had been having a Kuro marathon (not an uncommon sight in the (last name) household,

You sat on your towel nervously looking out at the crowded beach. It was the summer holidays, a few more days until school started and your friends and you have decided to go out to the beach to have some fun. You were never the party-goer or the party pooper but since Hinata had summoned up the courage to got to the beach, why couldn't you? Most of the lunch times, you stayed in the library: you were never the out going girl. Group work in class was the worst. The teacher would often put you in groups where he or she thought you would belong. You always ended up doing the whole project by yourself. That's not entirely true. Not always wer

     “I'm really surprised, I had no idea you could cook.” Taking another bite of what might be the best food you've ever tasted, you almost purred. “This is really delicious, how did you manage to make something like this?” “Well, actually I didn't. You see, I have a hard time pouring cereal without spilling the milk.” Naruto laughed, a sound that sent shivers up and down your spine. His laugh was contagious, causing you to giggle. “B-but anyway, I didn't want to take you out for ramen, again. So I just ordered something fancy. In any case, I'm glad you like it.” “You didn't have to do

ItalyxReader- Truth or Dare I do not own Hetalia. Full credit of Hetalia goes to Hidekaz Himaruya. However I do own this story and I would appreciate your comments on this. Thanks for reading Tips: (e/c) -> eye colour (h/c) -> hair colour             _____ -> enter name here Your eyes were glued to the TV screen in front of you. You were over at Italy's place to watch the first part of Pirates of the Caribbean for it was your favourite film. You were sitting on a comfy chair in a small dark room in his huge house; he was lying on his bed. The previous day he hurt his foot during Germany's training. Noone was there except for you.