Author's note:

3 stories that have Russia as a focus...Yeah, I really don't think Russians are scary but most people well at least my friends do feel intimidated by Germans and Russians...Anyway that's why I want Russia to have a more softer...calmer...and more understanding in nature.

Also I remember the girl that swam the cold artic (?) ocean (?) between Russia and America and succeeded. She proved that there is no need for the Cold War.

So America and Russia are good friends, it's just there bosses who hate each other. Also, Canada is a bit uncharacteristically snarky in the frist part. Fair warning, he just doesn't like how Russia (I mean Ivan) acts around him.

Anyway I believe that the nations are just obligated to approve or implement whatever the boss wants but that doesn't mean that they don't have their distinct personality that may fluctuate from how they present themselves during meetings. It just makes them more interesting, you know?

THIS IS BEFORE RUSCAN COUPLING... I totally ship them too!

...I hate that his friend's with…Russia

Yes…Why do I hate Russia? It may as a surprise to you but even though my relations with his country are a lot better than my brother's…I don't seem to like him.

I have nothing against Russia. I just don't like…Ivan Braginiski. Call me snarky by all means but it's just because he always seems to do everything that annoys me on purpose. He keeps following me and he constantly reminds me whenever my team loses in hockey, especially if it was against his team. Also he calls my pancakes good…if in all honesty they (sorry if I'm gonna sound like my brother) are awesome! Also he always sounds blunt…I don't if it's just the accent though. He also keeps on bullying Toris and the other Baltics. Do I need to continue, mon ami?

So naturally I'd be even more annoyed since my American brother is usually around him and I'm always with my brother. He'd ask Russia for drinks or to play video games, sometimes just small talk or even conversations that last up to hours…and I'm always there sitting in the corner trying to avoid the lighter shade of violet staring at me. What's wrong with him?

"Quit" a Texan accent could be heard.

"Pulling" then a mid-Atlantic accent.

"On my"…New-Yorker

"Nantucket, dude!"…Surfer dude.

My brother was changing between different accents across his country, all because a curious Russian was pulling on his cowlick vertically. It's funny but…every country has their small quirks and I can't help but feel sorry for my brother and feel incredibly infuriated with the Russian.

IVAN.

"No…It is so funny!" smiled the Russian. "What if I pulled it from side to side?" Russia looked innocently as he did just that.

"NYET!" yelled my brother talking in Russian.

"Oh…so you can talk Russian, Da? I want to know more!" he pulled on it again.

If you're wondering why America hasn't kicked Russia's ass yet, it's because pulling on Nantucket also makes his limbs feel numb.

"dejar de joder"… Spanish

"avec mes"…French

"валасамі(valasami)"…Belarusian

"kommunistischen"…German

"Bastardo"….Italian. Russia smiled absent-mindedly letting go of the straying piece of hair.

"mi van, ha húztam a sál?" Alfred was stuck in Hungarian. The strong American then gripped the Russian's scarf and pulled it away.

The Russian stood for like five seconds…his eyes wide and mouth opened wide. I didn't get it; Alfred was also waiting for something to happen. I crept near my brother and pulled on Nantucket to the North West and shook it a bit.

"Thanks, Mattie"

"No prob, bro!"

Then Ivan burst out laughing, rolling on the floor, his eyes tearing and his feet kicking.

"G-give me back my S-sca-aaahahahah!" he laughed louder. We looked at each other, confused. The weak Russian stood up trying to cover his neck with anything and everything.

"My…*pant* scarf *pant*protects *pant* my neck *pant* from getting tickled… *sigh* bythewind" the Russian scowled shyly. We laughed so hard that it was as if there were like 50 people in the room.

"Sh-shut up!"

"And I thought it's going to be better than that!"

"OUIIII! WHAT A HOSER!"

"N-not cool"

At least at the end I had a good laugh with my brother. But I still don't like him

Alright let me be more general…

I JUST HATE IVAN BRAGINISKI

I was just walking down the snowy streets of Alaska. I was in my brother's state. Mind you…MY BROTHER'S STATE.

"Privet Kanada!" chirped an all too annoying voice. I forced an unconvincing smile.

"What is it…Russia?" I asked trying to keep my hatred in.

"I beat you in hockey last week, Da?" THERE. That was it. He always rubbed it in my face when he one. I hate losing in hockey. I HATE.

"Well it's just because you're a cheating hoser, eh?" I scoffed. I HATE.

"Oh, do not be rash…Prive-

"Do not call me that… I AM NOT YOUR FRIEND. Damn Hoser" I just snapped. I don't know why I did. Usually I just let him annoy me for hours with me answering with witty one-liners.

"Our bosses might be friends. Our countries may be in good terms too. But I…Matthew Williams, am not in good terms with you, Ivan Braginiski." Russia just froze. Maybe I was a bit too much. But before I could even say sorry, he smiled and walked away.

CHIBI DRABBLE: COLD WAR BUDDIES!

The childish America ran up to the equally childish Russian.

"Ivan! I made a new agreement between you and me! I rewrote it like ten times…hopefully this'll finish the cold war!"

"Oh? Let me see…Fredka"

The honey blonde gave him the paper. The Russian gave it a quick glance before smiling and texting something on his cell phone.

"I also agree that we must stop nuclear threats for world peace"

"AWESOME!"

Then Ivan's phone rang. He flipped his phone and took a look. He smiled weakly as if saying 'I'm sorry'

"What is it, Ivan?"

"Oh…um…you see, my boss agrees too"

"So, that's good…"

"But he wants to keep the Nuclear missiles outside to make sure people know…I'm superior" his eyebrows twitched. The cold war was far from over then.

America pinched his nose bridge, taking in calming breaths.

"I need to drink…wanna come?"

"Sure!"

"Dutch treat?"

"Da!"

On the window a fairly clingy Dane was plastered against the clear glass as the two friends walked away. He had his face crunched into a deep scowl. He unglued his face.

"Why can't ALFRED be with me?!"

~AWKWARD STARES~

"What're you looking at? I'm pretty sure ninety percent of you are stalking them too!"

The people looked away, except for the ten percent who really just wanted to drink some coffee.

*DENMARK*=banned by Norway to see America since the NATO fiasco.

Russia's POV: Why must Maple syrup burn like lava?

I just wanted to look away. I didn't want him to see I was hurting; he might hurt me even more. I thought I was already in the friend-zone…just another border crossing to possibly… lovers (?) I don't know why of all people… my 'dead' heart would beat for that Canadian. Alfred doesn't know I like his brother…and I'd keep it that way.

I remember Holland in a wheel chair for three months when he asked for America's blessings for a Dutch-Canadian union.

The Northern Americans are scary…but I don't mind. They're actually very nice to me. Correction, at least one of them is nice to me.

I slumped down on a fairly hard wooden stool in a dusty Alaskan bar. I knew I shouldn't have stalked him all the way here.

"CLING"

I turned around to see a very Drunk American. He stumbled to the stool next to mine.

"Dude… th'stuped…bartend'r ki*hic*cked me out...Said *belch* Iwastoodrunk. Could I *hic* cra*hic*ash 'ere?" asked my friend to the bartender who nodded.

"Oh… *hic* VANY!" he squealed wrapping me in his surprisingly strong arms.

"Stupid…stupid BAGEL BRAIN! *hic* I was just *hic* looking after 'm!" Alfred slurred. I opened my eyes in shock. Was he really talking about privet Denmark?

"I mean *hic* why the F*hic* would I let my *hic* self fall for that Dumbass! Wha-bout you? "

"I hear ya, I have feelings for some guy too, ya know!" America's drunken eyes opened in recognition. "I mean…I try my best, Da? But that stupid Ca- I mean guy just throws it aside!" the drunken American just nodded uncoordinatedly.

"I mean *hic* what's attractive about that old Dane*hic* anyway? Besides…perf'ct ass…or h's abs a-and pecs or how he *hic* gives me free bagels…or lego…or-or his *hic* smile… and how *hic* he always makes m*hic* smile…" America ranted out everything he loved about the older nation. I mean, his even older than me…but he practically looks to be America's age.

"Yeah. Bros before hoes…that is what you say in your country, da?"

"Hell yeah!" he hugged me tightly. I inhaled his intoxicated scent. He smelt heavily of beer but he also smelled like the fresh forest air…Could this be Canada's scent also? My mind wanders to a bed of fresh sunflowers with Canada on top moaning with me…I don't care if I top or not. I just wanted him.

"Vany! Come with me!" said the American slightly sober. He got my pipe and licked the base. His eyes shined in a lustful hot blue. "Let's see if I can stuff this in you?" he smirked evilly. Before I could refuse he cornered me into a melting kiss…the rumors were true.

~TIME SKIP~

America was kicked out of the bar. He started looking for a new one. I was definitely flushed…I just got my ass handled with a pipe…among other things. He was definitely rough…and I thought I was rough. Maybe it's just my heartbreak talking.

"CLING"

"OH! IT'S YOU! IVAN, BUDDY!" I heard a very full voice from behind. I turned around to see, messy-light blonde hair, strong-cut features, and that trademark smirk. It was Denmark. Thank God, I had like a bottle of Vodka in me already.

"Got kicked out?"

"JA! 'M GONNA DRINK HERE INSTEAD!" He skipped happily to his seat. "DAMN IT! I HATE THAT AMERICAN! AT LEAST YOU HATE HIM TO YOUR CORE, RIGHT?"

"Oh…um… d-da?" I lied, this was too interesting too pass up.

"He's like totally careless…what if he gets hurt or *hic* killed. Damn it….I don't what I'm gon*hic*na do if I see even on scratch on his perfect *hic*face. I'd beat the crap out of any*hic*body in a ten kilometer rad*hic*us. Wait…you're his enemy here!" The Dane's eyes were closed like Italy's but miraculously, he could still see me…I think. He lodged his axe on the wooden counter. "IF YOU TRY TO HIT HIM…I'll butcher you!"

"N-no…I am not going to do that!" I smiled softly. So he likes him too.

"So…ah what did you have?" I asked after chugging down on my Vodka, trying to make him recognize my awesome alcohol tolerance.

"Oh… I had like two barrels of beer…then about 3 bottles of whiskey…Oh yeah; I totally stole some Vodka from a Russian specialty store." He explained in a slightly slurred manner.

My confidence plummeted down.

I was obviously shocked. He should be dead by now. The next thing I saw was that my Danish friend was stripping. He cocked his head in confusion.

"What're you looking at?" he moved in closer. I looked at the pale, scarred body…he had a very good one in fact, must've been a lot of work to get it. Almost every inch of him was covered with scars or burns but it still looked relatively clean and intact. How I wonder what hell he has experienced? He placed his hands over my shirt and started ripping my clothes of.

"YOU SEE! WE'RE LIKE SCAR BUDDIES!" he grinded his body with my less scarred body. He suddenly looked at the discarded pipe littered in the floor. "Do you…pleasure yourself with that?"

"n-no!" God, where the hell is the damned bartender?

He smirked.

"IVAN! HAVE YA TRIED FISTING?" he had an XD face. I had no choice plus the more activity; the more I could forget of Canada. He swung me over his shoulder like a rag. I looked at the door, torn between hot sex or leaving with a shred of dignity, my hands patted his perfectly hard ass with his uneven gate leading us to the bathroom.

~TIME SKIP~

Denmark got kicked out too, but not before I got my ass done again…with my pipe…a vodka bottle…the Dane's…ugh…among others.

Most people might've seen me for more of a sadistic top, but I'm actually pretty lenient. Plus…I think it's just because people assume that I'm a cruel bastard or how I like quarrels, which I don't…maybe a little. It is good to let out anger, Da? So I let them fight, they'll make up afterwards. That is how I settle disputes, throw some good punches let them tire out enough to talk then have a good laugh about it. Maybe it's my lack of strength control. Maybe it's because of my accent…it's pretty hard to convey sarcasms or jokes. Don't they know that my aura's just a sign of sarcasm? I sound like a teenage girl in my head. Maybe it was because I'm plain, old, scary, foreboding Russia. Maybe that was what the Canadian saw.

Sigh

Honestly, I really don't have a real superiority complex or a crazy masochist thing…maybe I should improve on my people skills. I might even take lessons from…

Italy?

No.

Germany?

LOLZ.

Prussia?

A waste of time.

Maybe I just have to take time to adjust…re-plan my strategy.

"CLING"

PLEASE DO NOT BE ANOTHER HORNY DRUNK.

"Um…I-Ivan?"

I immediately turned around to see the Canadian hunk with a concerned smile. I wanted to run up to him but my sore…wait destroyed ass only allowed me to crawl.

"Boy, you must be very drunk, mon ami! Let me carry you!" without hesitation he gave me a piggy-back ride. Who knew he was strong enough. I could feel a blush pink creeping on my face. I'd seriously do him now…whatever he wants, I'll make it awesome for him. God, I'm drunk already.

"I-I'm really sorry, Ivan."

"No worries…pri-I mean Canada."

"Call me, Mattie."

"Alright, Matvey!"

"Sounds better actually"