ItalyxReader - The Waitor and His Waitress Pt. 2
Saturday. It was finally Saturday. You got up at 10am and did your hair and makeup, not that you really needed to put much on. You just put on blush and eyeliner, and you brushed your long, ___ hair. You skipped breakfast and made sure everyone's things were in their gift bags. You suddenly remembered that you needed cards. 'Oh crap!' you muttered, and you ran down stairs and outside.
You jumped on your yellow moped, threw your helmet on, and you tried to get to the nearest gift shop, which was about 5 blocks away. Once you got there, you ran inside to the cards rack. You looked at your watch, it was only 10:40am, and they were going to be there at 12pm. You realized you had a bit more time, but you had to rehearse the songs once you got home.
You picked 5 adorably hilarious cards for them. Romano and Spain's had tomatoes, Grandpa Rome had a thank you card that had pictures of money all over it, Germany's had sausage people talking on it (amazing that you found it), and Italy's had pas
ItalyxReader - The Waitor and His Waitress - Pt. 1
Work. It was what you did all day, every day, 4 days a week. You were about tired with your job as a nurse, so as soon as you got home, you decided you were going to look for a new job. You definitely couldn't wait to graduate and finish school. Studies, work, and an apartment certainly stressed you out more than you expected.
You looked through the newspaper after you did your studies and waited for dinner to finish cooking. You could already smell the boiling rice and the sizzling spam, and you were very hungry. You looked up and down the newspaper, noticing all the crappy jobs that were worse, like the 3 janitor jobs, and the 5 bar tender jobs.
You then noticed 1 waitress job that paid $15 an hour at an Italian restaurant. You did really enjoy Italian food, especially pasta. After all, it was the only Italian food you could actually make. You never thought about being a waitress, but this sounded pretty cool. You'd be able to pay your bills, pay for more books for school, and you'd
LithuaniaxReader - Draugai Amzinai - Part 2
It had been 9 years since the accident, and Lithuania, Latvia, Estonia, Russia, Ukraine, and even Belarus visited you as many times as possible, never forgetting about you. They couldn't wait to see you improve and get healthier, but they especially couldn't wait to see you wake up from this deep sleep. Things certainly weren't the same for them. The Baltics would get into fights about you, their sunflower garden wasn't as healthy and happy, they'd cry every now and then when they were reminded of you. Russia and Ukraine had trouble trying to comfort them, and Belarus sometimes made it worse. Things were hectic, but when it came to you, nothing else mattered to them. They all missed you.
It was the anniversary of the day you'd gotten in the accident, Lithuania's 17th birthday. Everyone came to visit you, but Lithuania wanted to stay much longer. They arrived around 10am, but Lithuania stayed until 12pm, talking to you. He had tears in his eyes, realizing how beautiful you really were.
LithuaniaxReader - Draugai Amzinai - Part 1
"Stop it, Toris! That tickles!"
"No! You're being punished!" Lithuania tickled you until you couldn't breathe, and it was your 'punishment' for tripping him. You were laughing on the floor, trying to get him off of you. You were able to move after a little while, and that's when you tickled him. Now, you were on top of him, 'punishing' him.
"No way! You're just getting what you deserve!" You tickled him harder, and he could barely speak. Russia slowly and quietly walked up and stopped. He just stared at the two of you with a look of disappointment. The both of you were up on your feet within seconds.
"Oh Toris tsk tsk tsk You were supposed to be doing chores, da?" He closed in on Lithuania who was trembling.
"D-d-d-da, Mr. Russia sir!" He saluted, hoping that it would help.
"Well, I guess you won't be having your 8th birthday party anymore " You knew this wasn't his fault, so you decided to take the blame.
"Excuse me, Mr. Russia, it wasn't his fault! I tripp