How To Marry A Canadian: A Hero’s Guide in Five Easy Steps (3/5)
anonymous
June 1 2009, 16:19:30 UTC
Step 3: Stalk Find Canadian
There is a G8 meeting coming up in a few months, but America doesn't think he can wait that long. There is a secret part of America that wants to walk into that meeting with Canada on his arm, to pull Canada close to him and dote on him and show him off to the other nations who'd spent their time scorning America behind his back. But not in a gay way! This marriage thing is strictly no-homo, dude, even if Canada is hot as fuck and does strange things to America's insides. And besides, the next G8 meeting is in Italy, and what America really needs to do is stake out his new territo--er, observe Canada in his own habitat.
He knows that Canada is one of those nations that's been shit talking him, too, but America's not worried. He's bought himself a French dictionary, and he's going to teach himself to talk dirty to Canada better than that freedom-hating wino ever could. But absolutely not in a gay way! So he books the next flight to Ottawa, and all during the trip he ponders what he and Canada are going to be calling themselves once they're married. Amerada? Camerica? Oh, crap, he's been doodling that all over his customs card, next to little bride and groom stick figures with maple leaves and stars on them. Now he's going to have to ask for another, but maybe he'll save this one in a special place.
Is he bringing any firearms or other weapons into Canada? Only the one in his pants, baby.
He is very anxious when he lands at the airport. He's not really sure what he expects to see there. Ottawa's very pretty, very, um, what's the word? Oh, yeah. Clean. Canada looks like what America would probably look like if he had time to shower more frequently (but he doesn't reek that bad; he's an Old Spice man!). America shoves his hands into his pockets and wanders aimlessly up and down the streets for a while. He feels a bit like he's in a parallel universe. This doesn't look like Canada. This looks like home. Canada looks like... Well, he isn't entirely sure what he thought Canada would look like. Piles of snow and rampant moose? Pharmacies on every corner with blinking signs advertising cheap prescription drugs?
Oh well. All the more reason for them to become one. Hey, there's a McDonald's!
His resolve renewed, he steers himself toward Canada's house and settles behind a row of hedges with a bag of Big Macs and a case of Labatt Blue (OK, Canada, he'll drink your beer, but only because he'd probably get punched in the face if he bought Coors). Well, he can't just knock on the door, now, can he? He's got to wait for the perfect moment so he can sweep his blushing bride-to-be off his feet like the awesome hero he is!
Except that, oh, crap, there's somebody coming.
Holy shit, it's Russia. He can see that creepy smile coming a mile away. Hide, hide. Wait, he's already hiding. He ducks down lower until he's squatting with his chin to his knees, and he tries to make himself invisible. He's in Canada, now, so that shouldn't be too hard.
Wait, what the hell is that in his hand? Are those...sunflowers? America peers from his hiding spot behind the hedges as Russia knocks on Canada's door and is greeted with hesitant laughter from the bespectacled blond as he steps into the doorway.
"Ivan, t-thank you so much," America hears Canada say. "N-no, don't come in."
Wait just a fucking minute. Is that ruskie douche trying to mack on his territory? And with those ugly-ass flowers? Oh, hell no. America feels his face growing hotter, and he sends foliage flying as he springs to his feet, preparing to crack the Russian's skull against the pavement for daring to even think about coming close to his Canada.
Shit, he's turning around. America ducks down again, thinking that it wouldn't be very heroic to start a fight in front of the person whose trust he's trying to gain. Yeah, he'll find Russia later, and they'll have a duel or something. With gloves. And guns. And nuclear arms.
Suddenly, Russia's head peers over the hedge, and America refuses to admit that he shrieks. Russia smiles at him. "Hello, Comrade."
"What the fuck?" America shouts.
"You are here to see Canada, yes?" he asks, and then he waves goodbye. "Good luck."
Re: How To Marry A Canadian: A Hero’s Guide in Five Easy Steps (3/5)
anonymous
June 1 2009, 19:01:42 UTC
O.O alfred. you are a PREDATOR. what do you think you're doing?! you're not out in the woods hunting rabbits! never mind that once upon a time Matthew was New France (and all that entailed).
seriously though. the part about him not showering...eww. add that to old spice... o.O
and just what would a guy fawning over his husband be if not gay? honestly.
but, that he is too afraid to face ivan without nuclear arms is very amusing.
Re: How To Marry A Canadian: A Hero’s Guide in Five Easy Steps (3/5)
anonymous
June 2 2009, 02:57:02 UTC
Is he bringing any firearms or other weapons into Canada? Only the one in his pants, baby.
...I don't know how this Canada!Anon going to survive going to Moscow, Idaho next year and filling out the customs card... A.K.A. Awesome job again anon!
Shhh. My secret is that I write him to Denis Leary's song "Asshole." XD
Seriously, though, thank you everybody for all of the positive feedback. I've been sort of worried that my humor was too blunt, but I'm glad to see that you all are getting as much of kick of of reading this as I am out of writing it. The last two parts are pretty much finished, but I think I'm going to wait until part 5 of the kinkmeme to post them.
There is a G8 meeting coming up in a few months, but America doesn't think he can wait that long. There is a secret part of America that wants to walk into that meeting with Canada on his arm, to pull Canada close to him and dote on him and show him off to the other nations who'd spent their time scorning America behind his back. But not in a gay way! This marriage thing is strictly no-homo, dude, even if Canada is hot as fuck and does strange things to America's insides. And besides, the next G8 meeting is in Italy, and what America really needs to do is stake out his new territo--er, observe Canada in his own habitat.
He knows that Canada is one of those nations that's been shit talking him, too, but America's not worried. He's bought himself a French dictionary, and he's going to teach himself to talk dirty to Canada better than that freedom-hating wino ever could. But absolutely not in a gay way! So he books the next flight to Ottawa, and all during the trip he ponders what he and Canada are going to be calling themselves once they're married. Amerada? Camerica? Oh, crap, he's been doodling that all over his customs card, next to little bride and groom stick figures with maple leaves and stars on them. Now he's going to have to ask for another, but maybe he'll save this one in a special place.
Is he bringing any firearms or other weapons into Canada? Only the one in his pants, baby.
He is very anxious when he lands at the airport. He's not really sure what he expects to see there. Ottawa's very pretty, very, um, what's the word? Oh, yeah. Clean. Canada looks like what America would probably look like if he had time to shower more frequently (but he doesn't reek that bad; he's an Old Spice man!). America shoves his hands into his pockets and wanders aimlessly up and down the streets for a while. He feels a bit like he's in a parallel universe. This doesn't look like Canada. This looks like home. Canada looks like... Well, he isn't entirely sure what he thought Canada would look like. Piles of snow and rampant moose? Pharmacies on every corner with blinking signs advertising cheap prescription drugs?
Oh well. All the more reason for them to become one. Hey, there's a McDonald's!
His resolve renewed, he steers himself toward Canada's house and settles behind a row of hedges with a bag of Big Macs and a case of Labatt Blue (OK, Canada, he'll drink your beer, but only because he'd probably get punched in the face if he bought Coors). Well, he can't just knock on the door, now, can he? He's got to wait for the perfect moment so he can sweep his blushing bride-to-be off his feet like the awesome hero he is!
Except that, oh, crap, there's somebody coming.
Holy shit, it's Russia. He can see that creepy smile coming a mile away. Hide, hide. Wait, he's already hiding. He ducks down lower until he's squatting with his chin to his knees, and he tries to make himself invisible. He's in Canada, now, so that shouldn't be too hard.
Wait, what the hell is that in his hand? Are those...sunflowers? America peers from his hiding spot behind the hedges as Russia knocks on Canada's door and is greeted with hesitant laughter from the bespectacled blond as he steps into the doorway.
"Ivan, t-thank you so much," America hears Canada say. "N-no, don't come in."
Wait just a fucking minute. Is that ruskie douche trying to mack on his territory? And with those ugly-ass flowers? Oh, hell no. America feels his face growing hotter, and he sends foliage flying as he springs to his feet, preparing to crack the Russian's skull against the pavement for daring to even think about coming close to his Canada.
Shit, he's turning around. America ducks down again, thinking that it wouldn't be very heroic to start a fight in front of the person whose trust he's trying to gain. Yeah, he'll find Russia later, and they'll have a duel or something. With gloves. And guns. And nuclear arms.
Suddenly, Russia's head peers over the hedge, and America refuses to admit that he shrieks. Russia smiles at him. "Hello, Comrade."
"What the fuck?" America shouts.
"You are here to see Canada, yes?" he asks, and then he waves goodbye. "Good luck."
Yeah. Duel. Later.
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seriously though. the part about him not showering...eww. add that to old spice... o.O
and just what would a guy fawning over his husband be if not gay? honestly.
but, that he is too afraid to face ivan without nuclear arms is very amusing.
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...I don't know how this Canada!Anon going to survive going to Moscow, Idaho next year and filling out the customs card... A.K.A. Awesome job again anon!
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can't wait for the next bit
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God you're awesome Writer!Anon just brilliant! (and you hinted at Russia/Canada~! ♥♥ *mwa*)
This song's for you writer!Anon!
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Seriously, though, thank you everybody for all of the positive feedback. I've been sort of worried that my humor was too blunt, but I'm glad to see that you all are getting as much of kick of of reading this as I am out of writing it. The last two parts are pretty much finished, but I think I'm going to wait until part 5 of the kinkmeme to post them.
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http://hetalia-kink.livejournal.com/9482.html?thread=11392778#t11392778
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