Alright, I finally got this stuff done! Sorry if the blurbs aren't high quality, blah blah, yes, I do know that some of my mini paragraphs stray from the original point, blah blah. Either way, I typed this up and made it an even 100.
DISCLAIMER: I don't own Hetalia… yet.
Leaving an unconscious Seychelles in a room with France isn't funny, even if I have cameras
"Well, now that you are defenseless…" France trailed off, looking up and down the slumped over Seychelles. "Get off her!" Britain burst in the room and dragged out the girl, kicking France on the way out.
Germany's flag is not copied off of Belgium's.
Same with Italy and Hungary.
Italy clung onto Hungary, hugging her around her midsection. There were so many new rumors! Hungary in return patted his back, telling him it was alright. Her motherly instinct was taking over, and she wanted to hit someone with a pan really hard. But for now, she could only comfort the way overly sensitive Italian.
"It's okay, don't worry Italy. You won't get in trouble for copying."
I am not allowed to say "Latin is a dead language" around Grandpa Rome.
America and Grandpa Rome were involved in heavy conversation, something they could say didn't happen very often. But this was important, so both held their ground.
"Latin isn't dead, I speak it myself a bunch!" Rome pouted, crossing his arms.
"But dude, you are dead."
Mentioning "Ninjas were way better than pirates" around Britain will be very entertaining, but the results are WW3
Britain unsheathed his sword, getting ready for battle. His feather-topped hat was in place, as was his eye patch. He kept his eyes steadily trained on the figure in front of him clad in all black. A single blink could mean the sudden disappearance of Japan and a slice in his back. Britain smirked, this was a challenge, but not one he would lose.
Meanwhile, America, China, and France sat on the side eating popcorn. This was way better than cable.
Trying to clean the blood off Russia's pipe without permission will only end in more stains.
"You are going to let go of that now, da?" Russia asked, turning around to where Lithuania was standing with a wet wipe circled around the taller nation's pipe. "Y-yes sir. I was only trying to help." Lithuania backed away quickly and out of sight.
I am not allowed to trash Germany's kitchen.
"PRUSSIA! THIS TIME I'M NOT GOING TO SPARE YOU!"
I am not allowed to take up Italy's offer for football.
America arrived at Italy's house in a helmet, pads, guards, and a jersey on top of all that. Meanwhile Italy waited for America in simple shin guards and socks. For a moment, they stood and stared, taking in the others odd get-up. Of course, America and Italy broke it with a laugh.
Simultaneously, "What are you wearing?"
I am not allowed to ask Sealand if he needs his diaper changed.
Sealand stood indignantly, trying (and failing) to stare Sweden down. Naturally, he lost and was forced to walk forward where Sweden was standing with a bag of Pampers. His arms were crossed and his legs were spread horseback style, a universal defense pose. But one more glare from Sweden broke his resolve as he changed tactics.
"I don't need my under things changed!" He cried, giving up the defense for a run, going as far out of sight as he could.
Calling Britain and Romano tsunderes will only confuse them.
"Oi, Japan! Today America called me a tsundere, what does that mean? He told me to ask you!" Britain addressed Japan, causing him to sweat. How to explain this…
I'm not allowed to tell China that he is stealing other countries ideas
"Hey China! I saw one of my Disney characters on an advertisement of yours the other day. What's with that?" America asked, claiming China's (angry) attention.
"She's not yours, she's mine!" China yelled, "So stop accusing me of things!"
If I tell China that Shinatty-chan isn't cute, I should prepare for death by wok and ladle.
"Hey, bastard, that cat looks really dumb. Why'd you make something like that?" Romano pointed over his shoulder with his thumb to where Shinatty-chan was standing. He turned his head around slightly and stuck his tongue out, to indicate disgust.
"What did you say?" China said slowly, beginning to pull a wok out from somewhere behind his back.
Hong Kong's fireworks are not to be taken.
Or sold on the black market, for that matter.
Prussia smirked as someone came up to where he was standing. The dark alleyway made his black trench coat even darker yet the one street light a few yards away made the glint in his red irises gleam. And as his "appointment" slowly brought their wallet out of their jacket, Prussia pulled out his side of the deal.
A mystery person was on the other end of this deal, but by the end of the transaction, the Germanic ex-nation had found out his true identity. He had just sold Hong Kong his explosives back.
Just because Britain responds to 'old man' doesn't mean he likes it.
Same with "Eyebrows"
"Hey! Old man, c'mere!" America called, jerking his hand back and forth in the universal sign for 'get over here'.
"I've told you more than once, don't call me that!" Britain complained, coming over nonetheless.
"Okay, fine Eyebrows."
I am not allowed to impersonate countries by using horrible accents.
"I do say, it is wonderful weather we are having here, pip pip!" America paced in circles with his nose towards the sky. His voice was in a stuffy, British accent. Following him in circles was none other than France, who was walking in a similar fashion.
"I must agree with you, fine sir. Cheerio!" France said in the same horrible accent. Meanwhile, Britain watched from the doorway with a dark aura surrounding him.
"Want to say that to my face?" He mumbled darkly.
If Italy says he doesn't like wurst, he means the food.
However if he says that he likes it, chances are it's not the food.
"Fratello, yesterday I had some German wur-" Italy was cut off by his brother slamming his hand against the desk. "I don't care about how much the wurst sucked, that's what you always tell me! I'm tired of hearing about that bastard's food!" Romano yelled, emphasizing with a thump every so often.
"B-but Romano! This wurst was really good!"
I am not allowed to give America a King sized Hershey's bar then set him loose on the other nations.
France snickered as he turned the hypothetical wheel on America's back. A wheel activated by too much sugar, too little time. And three or four chocolate bars could do the trick anyday.
"Alright, America, go in there and make Papa proud!" With that, he was turned loose and he ran to where Britain was. Ahh, he mused, I can hear the screaming from here!
Releasing a hoard of fangirls on them is wrong.
Especially if I am paid.
"Alright girls, sic em!" Prussia let loose a gaggle of girls, who immediately high-tailed it to where the conference was being held. Earlier, he had gathered the good folks at an Anime Con and told them that if he got beer money, he would bring them to where the real countries were. Naturally, they agreed and now, here they were, getting autographs. All's well that ends well!
Finding a way to raise the price of groceries in Switzerland will only anger him.
Switzerland glared at the offending price tag. Yesterday, he could have sworn it was half this much! Cheese was getting way too expensive, almost to a point that he was going to go somewhere else to buy his groceries. But that would be wasting gas money, which is almost as bad as double-priced cheese. Basically, Switzerland was stuck between a rock and a hard place.
I am not allowed to give Hungary a Cloak of Invisibility or any such spying equipment.
There it was again! The stupid footsteps! Germany knew he heard them, but it could have just been his imagination. But when there are two more sets and the shutter of a camera flash, he knew it had to be real. But nothing was around him! Well, nothing except an Italian hanging from his arm and blubbering some nonsense.
Who was taking pictures of him!?
I am not to fuel an argument between Britain and America over whose dialect of English is better.
Britain huffed, stomping his foot. Another useless argument with America, and they both knew that England was obviously going to win. "I created the bloody language, what makes you think yours is better?"
"Uhh, everything! At least we use the letter z over in the states! Ya'll just replace all of your z's with s' and add a u anywhere possible! Why?!" America yelled, making a somewhat valid point for once. Damn.
I am not to steal Kumajiro.
On a similar note, polar bears are not a proper form of transit.
"America, please. Get off the bear!" Canada whispered as loud as he could. His idiotic brother had donned a cowboy hat and taken to riding Kumajiro. Who was, for some unknown reason (probably treats) complying and moving for America. Honestly, what an idiot.
Any peculiar strands of hair are off limits to touch.
"By the way, Italy, what does this do?" Germany asked, pulling Italy's outstanding hair curl. He heard a small noise from Italy, hardly noticeable. It sounded like pleasure, of some sort, so he kept pulling. The noises became louder the harder he pulled. How odd.
After a while of amusing himself with Italy's curl, he heard another camera flash from seemingly nowhere. Again!?
Allowing a bunch of turtles to take over another restaurant will make Spain happy, but most likely piss Romano off.
"Hey, Spain, I heard you liked turtles! Lately my beaches have been having a really good hatching season, and I figured you might want some!" America shoved a paper bag (that was oddly pulsing) into Spain's hands. The Spaniard's face lit up as he clutched the creatures close. "First, you give tomatoes, and now this? Gracias!"
When Spain brought them home, he set them on the floor for a minute so he could find a tank for them. But while he was gone, Romano happened to stumble upon them also, in the form of finding one on the leg of his pant.
"CH-CHIGII!"
I am not allowed to ask Ukraine if those are real.
Ukraine felt a small tug on the bottom of her shirt, but she looked down she could only see the edge of a slightly familiar sailor hat. But when the micro-nation moved back, she could tell it was Sealand, the little guy who would always sneak into the meetings.
"How did you get them so big?" Sealand asked, whispering the next part, "Did ya cheat?"
No matter how tempting it is, I am not allowed to ribbon dance with Russia's scarf.
With a quick tug, Russia's scarf came off and unraveled into Belarus' waiting hands. Finally, all hers! She could smell him in it, oh beautiful smell! It was so lovely and so easy to move that before she knew it, she was spinning it, bringing it in every so often just to catch a whiff. How wonderful it was to see the gray fabric on the tip of her fingers and fluttering in the wind! Wonderful!
Sweden does not "just need a hug" so I should stop initiating them.
"Su-san! We are all part of a family! We even got Iceland to call us brothers. You should let me hug you!" Finland said, spreading his arms wide so Sweden could come in.
"Fine, but only you, wife." Weakly, he spread his arms so there was about six inches of space from his hip to where his hand was. Finland rushed forward and hugged him, not even minding the name.
If I steal German beer or Russian vodka, I should be prepared for a sudden, painful death.
"West! I think someone stole our beer!" Prussia called in a very noticeably fake distressed voice. In (mock) horror, his hand was over his mouth as he pointed to the empty cooler. Germany rushed down, knowing full and well who stole the beer.
"Very well, I'll buy some more." Germany played along, turning back into the house to get his keys. Sweet, he fell for it! Prussia mused, proud of his little prank.
Meanwhile, a certain German was calling a Hungarian, arranging a "playdate"
Poland may be like a girl sometimes, but he is surprisingly strong. So don't steal his nail polish.
"Like, Liet! Where's the pink?" Poland jumped up. His search through the make-up drawer had been fruitless, the closest color to pink he could find was raspberry, and that totally wouldn't do.
"I umm… I didn't think you needed it… I threw it away…" Lithuania stood awkwardly in the doorway, running his hands through his hair. Slowly, Poland turned around and made eye-contact with him, smiling in a way strikingly similar to Russia's.
"Is that so?"
I am not allowed to paint wings on pigs because Germany said he would only kiss Italy when pigs fly.
"Japan, I have the livestock, do you have the paint?" Hungary opened the door for her new friend, not bothering to say hello. They had other things to deal with. "Yes I do, Hungary-san. I also brought a voice recording of him saying it so he can't get out of it."
"Excellent." Hungary smirked, rubbing her hands together.
I am not allowed to capture Flying Mint Bunny.
France crouched, feeling around for something. Britain was just in here with his friends, playing tag or something. But when Britain left, he said goodbye, which meant the creatures were still in here. So there France was, trying to capture a flying bunny.
Eventually, he felt a force of some sort run into his head, giving away its position. France quickly swung the jar around, feeling satisfied when the jar moved in his hands. Perfect.
I am not to put the volume of my phone's ring tone on loud and have it go off during the meeting.
Especially if it is an offensive song.
"-And the crooked ass teeth of an English dude, and those creepy Italians who, think they're smooth. *mamma mia* And how could anyone hate the French, yeah I know their hairy woman don't shave their p-" At that point, the ringtone cut off leaving the room in dead silence. For two seconds, everyone just stared at the ex-nation culprit, Prussia. Sheepishly, he began to put his phone back in his pocket. Before he could do anything though, France, Britain, and Romano were charging at him, out for blood.
Running up to Canada and yelling "I'm gonna call Ghostbusters on your ass!" will not go over well.
America boldly walked up to Canada, holding his phone in his hand. He didn't stop as he whispered something that not only Canada could hear, and kept on. "I couldn't hear you! Could you repeat yourself?" Canada asked, shout-whispering.
"Fine, spirit." America turned around and made eye-contact with Canada, who had visibly paled. "Today, you are gonna get ghost busted!" America screamed before running out, quickly typing numbers into his phone.
Showing Germany GerIta Fanfictions will not get the reaction that I wanted.
"Wh-what is this stuff?" Germany shrunk back from the computer, turning his bright red cheeks away. "I don't think about him that way!" He screamed, slamming the laptop before leaving.
On the way out, he left Hungary in the dark, who sat there and tsked. "Denial, denial."
I should not give Belarus a ladder because she will use it for evil.
Belarus leaned down, her hair falling to gravity and hanging straight down. Her whole upper body was positioned off the roof, she was hanging by only her feet digging into the shingles. She watched as Big Brother sat and innocently ate his piroshky, not expecting an aerial attack.
But be ready Brother, because today things are changing for the better.
I am not to kick Poland where it counts "just to make sure"
Because it, "Like, totally hurts!"
Sometimes, the other nations really wondered about Poland. Why would a boy nation like wearing skirts? Not even the girl nations were particularly fond of dresses and other such things. Yet for some reason, when Belarus finally gave in and hit Poland where the sun doesn't shine, he actually responded by going into fetal position and called out to Lithuania for ice.
England's friends aren't real, so I shouldn't encourage him.
Denmark snickered at Britain's naivety. For some reason, England and Norway both saw "faeries", and Denmark had made it his personal mission to trick them. And England seemed desperate enough for friends that anyone who came up to him and says, "I see them too." Would get a special place in his heart.
So while Denmark "played with the faeries" Norway watched from a distance, doubtful. If Denmark could see the mythical creatures, he wouldn't be stepping on a leprechaun.
I will not side with America in arguments concerning who drives on the "right" side of the road.
Or participate, for that matter.
"You git, you are the only one who drives on that side of the road, why do you continue to think you are right?" Arthur exclaimed, standing tall. He had all of Europe on his side, there was no chance of America winning this.
"Canada drives on the right side of the road! Wait, where's Canada?"
I am not allowed to sit in Finland's lap and tell him what I want for Christmas
"Okay, I really want another pony. And a skirt, or anything pink at all. Or a pre-paid credit card. Some more pink nail polish," Poland directed a glare at Lithuania, "and a cell phone case! That would be totally awesome!" He climbed off Finland's lap, who then looked out at the long line of nations still in line for presents. It was going to be a busy season.
Giving Prussia Peeps is cruel.
Gilbird landed on the window sill with a small parcel in his mouth and pecked on the window. When Prussia heard his chick pecking, he stood up and opened the window, taking the package from Gilbird's mouth. "From Hungary" he read out loud, tearing the wrapping paper.
"What is this?! Gilbird, don't look!" Prussia immediately dropped the marshmallow treats and scooped up his bird, taking him somewhere safer.
I am not allowed to narrate everything that happens during the meeting through a microphone.
"And we are back, to the live coverage of the nations. I am the one, the only, the America! Hold your applause please!" America stood up; talking into a microphone he seemed to have gotten from nowhere. "Britain, my co-host may have a few things to say, go on Eyebrows."
"Don't call me that! Now sit down and stop your incessant blabber!" Britain said angrily, trying to knock the mic out of America's strong grip fruitlessly.
"That was Britain! Now back to the broadcast! Germany is standing up and walking right towards me, he looks a little angry. Oh, crap he's gonna- ACK!" The microphone clattered to the ground while Germany 'restored order'.
I am not allowed to show Japan's drawings and writings to the Bad Touch Trio.
"Oh hon hon, he draws me so very well! It just captures my pure beauty!" France posed dramatically, sparkles surrounding him. Next, the journal was passed to Prussia. "Ooh, so that's what West wants to do with Italy, huh?" He snickered and passed it next to Spain. "Aww, look at Lovi~! He's so cute, especially posed like that!" For the last part, he got a look that rivaled even France's best rape looks.
They found my books, they found my books, oh crap, they found my books!
Review please:)