Fun fact about Russian language - it has 3 genders: masculine, feminine and neuter. And it just so happens that most country names (especially the European ones) are feminine! In fact, out of the 8 “main characters” of Hetalia the only one with a masculine name is China (Китай)
so when i watched Hetalia with Russian subs i couldn’t stop imagining China as a harem anime protagonist %D
N. Italy: slightly above average extra. increases when doing his infamous seizure dance 6/10 2p N. Italy: very extra, somebody stop him 8/10
Germany: not extra at all, a very straightforward boy. unless he’s proposing to feli 1/10 2p Germany: a good soft boy, occasional extra 4/10
Japan: don’t let his calm demeanor fool you, he is an Extra Boy 5/10 2p Japan: so extra, yet…so subtle about it 10/10
S. Italy: smidge more extra than his lil bro 7/10 2p S. Italy: the Queen of Extra himself. the ruler of the extraworld. You will not find another quite as extra as this one 11/10
Prussia: *puts on sunglasses* brace yaself for extra 10/10 2p Prussia: a good Soft Boy™, extra rating nonexistent 0/10
America: tone it down a bit alfred 8/10 2p America: a tame boy, only extra around crushes or his friends 3/10 edit: i have seen the error of my ways: vegans are always so fukin extra and 2p america constantly acts like he’s had 15 red bulls 8/10
France: calm your shit francis 10/10 2p France: haha nope not this lazy fucker 0/10
England: he’s got the magic thing going on which is kinda extra tbh 6/10 2p England: a soft boy, very extra sometimes 7/10
China: this senile old man,,,, so extra 9/10 2p China: 4000 years and still hoeing 9/10
Russia: kinda extra with the whole “i’m going to kill you but with a pipe” like lmfao just use a gun or something 5/10 2p Russia: cease this tomfoolery at once 0/10
How hard is it to make the Hetalia Characters cry?
America: Depends. He’s pretty tough so he could be in a lot of pain but would be fine. But sad stories like a puppy with cancer or abandoned animals will make him cry like a baby.
Canada: He’s an emotional crier. He’ll cry when he’s really happy, sad or mad. He will even cry when he’s really embarrassed!
England: He doesn’t cry much. He especially won’t cry in public unless he’s really drunk. He cries when thinking of his colonies leaving him and also when reading books. (He cried for hours when Hedwig was killed.)
France: He will cry for added dramatics. But it’s hard to make him really cry! He mostly cries when Englands insults step over the line.
Russia: Barely ever cries! Only cries when a tragedy happens or when he drinks way to much vodka and feels lonely.
N. Italy: If you just look at him wrong he’ll cry. He cries about everything and is an emotional crier like Canada but 10x worse.
Germany: Doesn’t cry unless he’s under the perfect combination of stress and lack of sleep. Will cry during movies if the dog dies though.
Japan: Not really a crier unless his favorite character gets killed off in a show/movie/book.
S. Italy: Emotional crier like his brother but more when he’s scared or frustrated. He also cries when he gets really really angry to his mortification.
Spain: Really doesn’t cry. Will tear up a bit when depressed or something bad happens but he’s the type to try and find the positive in the situation and go from there.
Request: Hi ! I love your stories ! Do you think I can request a Bucky x Reader, where she has a 6yo son and he is Bucky’s but he doesn’t know ‘cause of HYDRA capturing him when she found out she was pregnant & they haven’t seen each other since, please?
Grant Barnes ran around the park, squealing alongside all the other children. Their mothers watched them from afar, all smiling and cheering their babies on. Some of them even had fathers watching them proudly, their eyes twinkling happily and their heart full of joy. And then there was (Y/N) who was sitting on one of the benches furthest away from the playground all by herself. She had no ring on her finger, no man to kiss her cheek and call her beautiful, she had no husband and Grant Barnes had no father. Perhaps six or seven years ago he had one but that felt like a century ago, a century ago the war ended, a century ago when every woman stopped at the stations to pick up her man, when every wife presented her child to the recently returned soldier but that hadn’t been (Y/N)’s case. Rather than go and pick her lover up from the station she had sat at home, breast feeding her brand new baby boy.
"Momma!“ Grant yells as he approaches his mother, all smiles and giggles despite the sweltering heat of Brooklyn. "Will you come play with me?” (Y/N) smiles as she reaches out to ruffle Grant’s hair, a small, disbelieving chuckle falling from her lips.
“Baby, don’t you want to play with the other kids?”
“No mommy, I want you to come play with me,” Grant tugged on (Y/N)’s sleeve, persistent in his choice. (Y/N) chuckles as they stand up, much to Gran’ts delight as he squeals happily.
“What do you wanna play baby boy?”
“I wanna play soldiers!” Grant exclaims innocently, his eyes shining with excitement. (Y/N) sighs softly as her heart aches, the memories of Bucky slowly surfacing. She had managed to keep them down, try not to dwell on the thoughts of her long lost lover but it was always inevitable- there was always something that would remind (Y/N) of Bucky. The bitter scent of coffee in the mornings, a poster for a new science convention, the smell of fresh sheets, the warmth that would surround (Y/N) every time she climbed into bed; there was always a bit of Bucky in everything, even if he never really was there.
“Okay, who do you wanna be?”
“I want to be Captain America!” Grant shouted, beaming from ear to ear. Little did Grant know that he was actually named after the man himself, (Y/N) had figured Bucky would have wanted their baby boy to have something to do with Steve and since- well, since he wasn’t around anymore the least (Y/N) could do was name her child after him.
“Okay Cap’n,” (Y/N) salutes their baby boy, smiling when he giggled with excitement. “Where’s our first mission?”
“Over in Germ-Germ-Germ-”
“Germany?” (Y/N) suggest lightly, laughing when her son beamed at her.
“Yes! In Germany,” He slurred the word a bit, making his little facade even cuter.
“Well Cap’n, I don’t see a plane anywhere, how do you suppose we’re gonna get there?” Grant hums, stroking his chin in thought before jumping excitedly at an idea.
“I’m sure you wouldn’t mind carrying Captain America to battle,” Grant suggest, his blue eyes shining up at (Y/N) with child like hope.
“Captain,” (Y/N) placed a hand over her heart, sniffling softly. “It would be my honor to carry you to Germany,” And with that (Y/N) slides her arms around her baby boy, marching him across the playground and to a nearby tree or as Grant called it- Germany. Grant squealed in delight as (Y/N) made airplane noises as she all but charged for the trees, more than delighted to make their sweet baby boy happy. All the other mothers and fathers stared at (Y/N) distastefully but she didn’t care, not when Grant was laughing hysterically and having the time of his life. (Y/N) could only have wished that Bucky was here to see him…
~70 something years later~
Bucky looked down at the file in his hands, about the life he had left behind. There were pictures of (Y/N), looking as beautiful as he remembered her but there was someone else…a little dark haired, blue eyed boy who looked like the perfect combination of Bucky and (Y/N).
“His name was Grant,” Fury mutters from his seat, his eyes glued to Bucky’s hands clutching the folder. “(Y/N) named him after Steve,” Bucky gulps, reaching out with a hand to run his fingers along the photographs of what should have been his wife and baby boy. “She found out she was pregnant the day you fell of the train,” Bucky sighs shakily, throwing the folder to the side as he rubs at his burning eyes. He’d left an entire life behind, he’d left behind (Y/N), the love of his life, he’d left behind his family, he’d even left behind a baby he didn’t even know he had. “It’s not too late y’know,” Fury states as he grabs the folder, tucking all the papers and photographs back into manila folder gently. “We’ve kept tabs on Grant over the years…he’s in a home Bucky,” Bucky looks up at the older man, gulping once again. “He’s losing his memory so I suggest that if you wanna meet your kid you better do it now,”
And that’s how Bucky ended up where he was right now, standing in front of a white haired nurse in some retirement home.
“I’m uh- I’m looking for a Grant Barnes?”
“Oh! He hasn’t had visitors in years…”
“Yeah uh- I’m a distant cousin, thought I’d come see him for a bit,” The nurse smiles, clutching a clipboard to her chest tightly.
“That’s so sweet, he’ll be glad to see you. He’s in room 303 by the way, just down the hall and to the left,’ Bucky gives the nurse a light smile and a polite thank you before he walks down the hall, stuffing his hands in his pockets. All around him the sounds of beeping machines and oxygen tanks filled the air, leaving his heart aching at the thought that his boy- his own damn child- was one of the poor sickly elders here.
Bucky’s feet stop abruptly in front of room 303, the door decorated brightly in pink and red hearts, each one stating something wonderful about Grant- about his son. With a shaky sigh Bucky knocked his knuckles on the door, waiting for a nurse or someone to let him in.
“Come in!” A sweet female voice called. Bucky gently opened the door, poking his head inside the hospital room. There were two people in the room, an elderly looking man who once looked as though he had been beautiful but age had slowly withered away that beauty and a young female, perhaps around the age of twenty, sitting directly across from the man. “Can I help you?” She asks, smiling at Bucky sweetly.
“Uh yeah- um, I’m here to see Grant Barnes?”
“That’s me,” The old man smiles, gibing Bucky a small wave. “What can I do for you sonny?” God- his own child was calling him son and if that didn’t sting Bucky didn’t know what did.
“Um-” Bucky looks down at his hand sheepishly, biting his lip in thought. He hadn’t really thought of what he was going to say when he finally met his own flesh and blood, he thought he’d chicken out and leave before he ever even met his son but now he was here, standing right in front of him. “Was your father James Buchanan Barnes?” The elderly man loses his smile, his face taking on an ugly kind of glare.
“What do you want to know about my father?” Bucky sighs again, raking a hand down his face, one that looked almost like his own sons expect much, much younger.
“I have a little problem you see- I’m James Buchanan Barnes,”
Explaining his situation to his son had been hard, he was almost thrown out of the building until Bucky began to tell Grant things about his mother that no one except himself could know. From there it had been a bit choppy, his son was in shock, as was Bucky, but slowly they opened up to each other and now here they were- talking about (Y/N) as though it were the most normal thing in the world.
“You shoulda seen her,” Grant sighs, his eyes twinkling as he looks at the ceiling. “She was so beautiful, all my friends liked her,” Bucky chuckles, smiling so damn widely he was surprised his face didn’t bust in two.
“She was gorgeous,”
“And strong, so strong,” Grant whispers, breathing out heavily. “She got a job after you- after you died,” Grant hesitates to say the words, almost reluctant to admit that his own mother was dead. “She worked long and hard hours just to provide for me. We were poor but that never stopped her- we may have been low on money but you can bet your bottom dollar that she would find a way to make me and the neighbor kids desert,”
“She always was so generous,”
“She was the best mom anyone could ever ask for,” Grant smiles a little, a small, tender little thing that had Bucky wondering just exactly what Grant was thinking.
“I wish I could have been there-” Bucky sighs, his heart suddenly sinking. “I wish I could’ve seen your first steps, or heard your first words, I wish I could have seen you on your first date or watch you walk down the aisle-”
“That doesn’t matter now,” Grant smiles, reaching over to take Bucky’s metal hand in his own, withered one. “You’re here now and that’s all that matters to me…It’s nice to finally meet you Dad,” Bucky smiles, chuckling a bit even with the tears burning at his eyes.