They say that a blog is an excellent way to express one's feelings. The anonymity of the internet creating a relaxed environment in which you can freely jot down your emotions without worrying about any real backlash. It could be a hobby. It would be an addiction. Some even considered blogging therapeutic for certain cases of mental distress.

Which is why Matthew Williams, the Representation of Canada, allowed his….friend, Gilbert Beilschmidt, Representative of the former nation of Prussia, to spend ungodly hours hogging his bandwidth.

This was also now also the reason he stood in the foyer, head tapping a rhythmic cadence against the wall.

All these years he had put up with it all.

The cats.

The references.

The lulz.

This however was too much.

The Canadian didn't stop his self-cleansing when he heard the door open, feeling a rush of cool winter air.

Nor when a warm body passed quickly behind him.

The constant pounding only stopped when he heard a sharp crack and the shattering of something, more than likely, expensive.

Giving a good hard bang for good measure, Matthew took a step back. Was the world supposed to do that? Shaking his head, he managed to right the room again, sucking in a deep breath in preparation for whatever he was about to suffer.

One foot in front of the other. Left. Right. Le-

He was speechless.

His just tidied living room was now the aftermath of Halifax.

Everything had managed to find a place opposite of where it belonged. There was a blanket waving gently on the ceiling fan. The window was open, letting General Winter intrude upon the Persian rug he had gotten from Turkey.

How did the couch get upside down?

There was a small choking sound as he tried to formulate the proper articulation.

Why

Another crash.

"Chuck Norris checks under his bed for Prussia!" There was a heroic laugh that followed.

"Please! You can never match the greatness that is He!"

Oh yes. That was why.

Many thanks to all of those wonderful bloggers out there who found it necessary to inform his…umm…friend, of the wonders of the Chuck Norris meme.

It was all coming back to him.

First it was a few jokes, in which Matthew had patronizingly laughed along with, figuring it was a phase.

When it didn't stop, Matthew had taken to the 'meditation' he had been performing earlier.

Somewhere along the way, the Prussian had called America, bragging about his 'awesomer that He-ness'.

Which lead to said nation booking it over to prove the man of his country was not to be underestimated.

"Prussia doesn't go swimming! The water comes to surround me!"

Matthew groaned. If he ever found the hoser who started this…

He was literally one joke away from dropping both of them in Northern Alberta alone.

Maybe with some dried jerky to calm his conscience.

Cautiously, the blonde made his way through the maze that was his room towards the kitchen, shutting the window on the way.

Under the bright florescent lights, he found the source of all his trouble, now and forever.

The one who shared his face was had a scowl on his face, arms crossed and blue eyes intently staring forward.

One with shock white hair sported that 'shit eating grin' that made everyone want to strangle him. His hands were on his hips, leaning forward, red eyes taunting the American.

They seemed to be close to starting up again, so Matthew decided to cut in and tell them to fuck off-

"Sorry. Could you guys take this elsewhere, please?"

-the Canadian way.

Both sets of eyes turned toward him. That grin never leaving Gilberts face.

"Elsewhere comes to the Awesome Prussia!"

"AHAHA! That was actually pretty good dude!"

Matthew cracked a grin.

The Canadian enjoyed a wonderful night alone in his king sized bed for the first time in longer than he wanted to remember. He cuddled into his soft blankets, wrapping himself more than usual as a smirk played on his lips until he fell asleep. He didn't feel bad….not at all.

...

They had jerky.

Apologies...

But..whateves.

I don't own Hetalia.