This is not the story I should be writing right now, it's just that that one is giving me trouble, so I'll have to keep my readers waiting unfairly and attempt my first ever – 1 OFF! My stories always last waaayyyy too long, but I'm really gonna try to get this into a one off. It's about one of the crack ships I like that has absolutely NO LOVE, most likely because it's a very cracky crack ship. It was really hard for me to not write this because there is no, and I mean NO LOVE for this ship. I keep finding Vietnam and America instead, a ship I DESPISE, because based on how I was taught about the Vietnam war, Russia and America were EQUALLY destructive and basically using Vietnam as a battle grounds for Communism vs Democracy. It wasn't about helping her or her people, they didn't even need any help! It was that cold war craziness. They split her in half, were the catalyst for the VietKong's arrival, tormented her citizens, and thanks to both of them she was a step away from becoming East and West Vietnam like North and South Korea (considering the shape of Vietnam, it really should've been North and South but whatever). Correct me if I'm wrong, but that's what I recall being taught so I hate Vietnam x America with a fiery passion. No historical or canonical basis to this once so ever. So, here we go.

Everything Vietnam had learned early on about becoming a nation was taught by China. All of Asia seemed to share the trait; instead of making them struggle about to figure things out by themselves like he did, at some point each one was handed the silver platter of China's knowledge.

He taught Japan that humans and nations aren't the same thing, so the human girl he'd had his eye on would die long before him and break his heart. He'd taught Korea that other nations were selfish savages not ever to be loved or trusted, so his deepest secrets must be held in tight to protect himself and the millions of people that would someday depend on him. Lately, Vietnam was pondering his teaching about the spectrum of a nation's feeling.

China had said that everything a nation did or felt fell somewhere on the spectrum of personal and national. When a nation had the sniffles, they had to figure out if it was because of the personal option – they'd stayed out in the cold too long – or the national issue – their economy was lulling. Older nations like Japan that had been through it too many times could simply tell; this seizure I'm having his because of a tsunami on the coast. Some more methodical nations like Ghana and Georgia had taken the approach of study; they'd seen, for example, that the brain represented a nation's government. So, a day being confused and forgetting where one was going or what they were doing was because of a change in the government's structure.

Vietnam liked to just play it by ear and think out her issues. A random and intense pain was probably nation related. A slow buildup of mild inconvenience was probably her human body.

Walking into a nation's meeting one day, and feeling a strong attraction to another female nation, was probably nation related.

She'd concluded that the fluttering in her stomach was because of the recent, worldwide influx of non-closeted LGBT individuals. Her people's mindset was affecting her, but once the fad died down, or a non-straight sexuality started to be considered normal, she would go back to normal. She would go back to biting the end of her pen lightly as she stared hopelessly across the room at Thailand. Thailand with his adorable smile, irresistible love of animals, and untouchability because she was too shy to ever admit anything to him and risk their friendship. Risk their economic ties, and risk her people's happiness; it wasn't worth it.

However, the day she described was not the first day she had this feeling. It wasn't the first time she looked at Thailand, and smiled, because she loved to be with him, as friends, and nothing more. It wasn't the first time that golden hair and beautiful face had captivated her attention without her realizing. It wasn't the first time she forced herself not to stare. And it had gone on so long, she had begun think it wasn't a national issue.

"But then, why have you never been attracted to another female ever before this moment? Especially the other nations," Taiwan questioned. They were in the car, Vietnam driving and explaining all of this to the best of her ability. She sighed and slowed down; she was going 15 over the limit.

A nation personification was crafted to represent the average citizen in their place, yes, but they also met the standard of beauty for their location. While Japan's people thought he was more attractive pale, and America's wanted to see him with a sunbaked tan, beauty was beauty and no one could deny that each and every nation was a gorgeous specimen.

So why had she never been attracted to the adorable, little Taiwan she was always around? Well, they were sisters. Okay, but what about Tai's friend, Hungary. She was astoundingly beautiful, and yet she never felt anything for her. She never even felt anything for this nation in particular, it was just that one day she walked in, and forced Vietnam to forget anyone else was even in the room.

"I don't know. I didn't ever even like girls until her."

"How did you two even get together?"

"She and I," Vietnam started, carefully avoiding her name. She had yet to find the courage it took to tell Taiwan who this girl was. It took enough of her to admit she existed and do this in the first place; her name would remain a secret till she was ready, "we got together at the girl's nights."

Once every single month was the best weekend of Vietnam's life. She grinned, stopped halfway through packing and hugged her t-shirt to herself. It smelled like flowers, which was good, all her clothes needed to. She had to look perfect and smell perfect, because later she was going to see Belarus. Once a month the girls said goodbye to the boys, Belarus finally spent a second away from her brother, and Vietnam got to see her.

Last time, Belarus smiled at her. It wasn't even the other way around! And the time before that, they sat next to each other one night for dinner. They were in a booth, so their legs touched sometimes. This time, Vietnam's plan was to get her to laugh. If she could hear that sultry voice and know she had added some brightness to Belarus' day, even just a little….oh she didn't know what she would do, but it would feel great! She simply couldn't shake her wide smile from the thought of it.

She smiled the entire time she packed, and ceased for a minute, but then grinned widely at a red light while she banged on the steering wheel. She made it to France via nation's transit, constantly moving high speed planes reserved for the nations' plans, and smiled once she stepped off. She smiled in her sleep as the driver took her to the hotel. She almost smiled when she walked in the hotel the girls were staying at, but saved that smile for when she got to her room.

She was going to make Belarus laugh, and it would be the greatest thing she ever did.

And then she spotted her across the hall.

She wasn't wearing her blue dress for once, but instead jeans, a white shirt with the tiniest strip of midriff, and tennis shoes. Good God she was beautiful…

"I don't know what I did," Vietnam explained from the car, "I never did make her laugh that night, but I kind of got something better. You remember that one truth or dare game when Hungary had to seduce Prussia, and we kissed?"

"No, you guys, come on!"

"You said you've never kissed a girl, Vi, well here's your chance. 10 short seconds with..." Hungary reached into a hat of names and dug around mischievously. She pulled out and opened a strip of paper and her smiled widened. "Taiwan!"

Both girls were painted a very interesting shade of red, but Vietnam, being the grown woman she was, crawled across the circle to her sister and kissed her. It was just ten seconds but it was about the longest ten seconds of her entire life and she could've sworn her skin was so hot afterwards she could've burned someone. The next dare was Belgium's, and she had to make an embarrassing call. She ran into the other room to get her phone and everyone jumped up to follow her and make sure she actually did it. Everyone except Vietnam who was still trying to calm her heart down, and Belarus, who was staring at her from across the now destroyed circle of girls.

"Truth or dare?"

Vietnam jumped, and looked up. Her eyes met deep pools of sky blue that were approaching her as Belarus crawled closer. So much for calming her heart down.

"What?"

"Truth," she was now right in front of Vietnam, who was fighting with and losing against the blush on her cheeks, "Or dare?" She changed her position from all fours to on her knees, stooping slightly over the Vietnamese girl who had started to catch her attention three months ago.

"I…what happens if I say," Belarus grabbed her wrist, the wrist to the hand she was trying to cover her ruddy face with. She was fairly certain Belarus could feel her pulse now, as her heart beat at the pace of a rabbits. Belarus was so close - so close. Those beautiful eyes surrounded with long eyelashes all perfectly placed above the apples of her adorable cheeks on perfectly pristine skin – it was all so close. "…dare?"

"Say it, and find out. You'll be picking for me, not you, so what's it matter? Truth or dare?" The Belarusian leaned her face in, so close they could've nearly touched. Vietmam couldn't hear anything but the thud of her heart reverberating all over her body.

"Dare." She barely whispered it, and had just enough time to look back and forth in those pools of blue again before the other girl's eyes closed.

Their lips touched.

Vi was sure she'd never feel her heart beat that fast again; her entire face and torso burned with passion, and nervousness, and hands shook, and her stomach wound itself into a tight coil. It happened, it finally happened. Her feelings were reciprocated, somehow, and now after fourteen of these meetings (she counted) fourteen instances of going to the club and watching Belarus flirt with the boys for a drink, or going out of her way to run into Russia, fourteen months of watching her from afar and trying to still the beehive in her stomach, after all that, they were kissing.

It was just like Belarus to just kiss her. Dare herself to kiss her and then just kiss her like it was nothing. Vietnam couldn't even imagine waving at Belarus without an exact plan of how every moment before and after that wave was going to fan out. Belarus, after this, simply stood up, turned away, and walked towards Belgium's room. They had kissed and now Vietnam was a trembling, blushing mess, and Belarus kept her cool like she always did.

But more importantly, they kissed.

"A little while after that I asked her out. I don't think she knew it was a date at the time, but, it was my first time alone with her. I…was excited, honestly."

Vietnam couldn't understand why she was so ugly. First of all, her hair was doing nothing for her. She tried to curl it but all the curls fell within minutes, so now it was straight and flat and just drooping about her face. Every outfit she tried either made it look like she was trying too hard, or like she'd woken up and put on a trash bag. She wore heels but was sure she looked like a crippled penguin walking in them, and to top it all off, her eyeliner wings went in two slightly different directions. She looked a disaster, but it was less of a disaster than her previous attempts, and she was not about to be late.

They were having lunch, so neither girl was expecting much. Belarus was not expecting to walk in and be hit by the traveling scent of jasmine. She hadn't expected Vietnam to do her makeup, and look 12 times more beautiful than she normally did, if such a thing was possible. She didn't expect to feel this tightening in her stomach. And she did NOT expect to be staring at those slender, sexy legs framed by black heels and a dress, but they, like their beholder, were very pretty…captivating.

Belarus suddenly felt silly in her dressed down attire the same way Vietnam felt silly for having done so much. She thought Belarus was impressive then, because she was still lovely in a natural state. She wore jean shorts and a striped shirt, which was simple enough, but let her date see the curve of her body and spend a quick, embarrassing second lost in cleavage. Her hair, a golden waterfall cascading over her shoulder in a high pony tail. No makeup, but the sun from the window near them shined on her skin anyways. The woman truly was...captivating.

And she was funny.

And Vietnam was embarrassing herself, as usual.

"You snort?" both girls were laughing, but of course, Vietnam snorted, one of the many reasons she preferred not to laugh or smile, and now Belarus probably thought she was disgusting. "That's so cute!"

…Wait…

Cute?

They spent the next few seconds staring at each other, Vietnam pondering the validity and possibility of her cuteness, and Belarus studying the slant of her partner's eyes. She wished she could draw, or that she had a camera; she wanted a way to have that face at that moment to look at whenever she wanted.

"I," Vietnam started, noticing Belarus' hands set on the table, right in reach, "I'm flattered. Thank you." She rested one of her hands atop Belarus'. It was soft, and flinched a little at the sudden touch but didn't pull away. They were close again.

Instantly Vietnam regretted this decision. It was not a date! She couldn't touch her if it wasn't a date and-

Belarus smiled, her rare and glorious smile, and interlocked their fingers.

"You're welcome."

"She confused me at first," Vietnam confessed, "and upset me. Her other love was always a problem for us."

"6pat, I still think you should marry me," Vietnam heard as she turned the corner. It was a world meeting day; she had just left the ASEAN meeting, and was headed to the true world meeting, one that Belarus had clearly intercepted her brother on the way to.

Vietnam knew she still loved him. She knew she still wanted to be with him. She knew all of this and she knew whatever Belarus was doing with her was just her being nice, or pitying her feelings, or maybe it was Belarus' idea of being friends, Vietnam didn't really know what it was, but it wasn't anything she wanted it to be in.

She knew this, so she was just going to walk right past them while they had their conversation, and she wasn't going to say anything or let her heart break. She wasn't going to do it.

"But...we kind of just ignored that issue at first. Not wise, but we did it."

Belarus cried a lot, or so Vietnam was observing when looking at her. All the Russians did; Ukraine sobbed at the drop of a hat, Russia wouldn't hesitate to burst into tears when he was scared (he was just rarely scared), and Belarus cried without care. She wouldn't wipe her tears or hide her face as any normal, pride-having nation would; if anything got to her feelings enough, she would let it all go without shame. Most nations simply didn't know this, because they couldn't be bothered to actually talk to her.

"Why?" Tears dripped from her chin to the papers she had resting on her lap, and Vietnam watched them, mostly just concerned the ink would smear.

"Why do you even want to?"

"Because I like you." It was the first-time Belarus had said that, and it made Vietnam forget what language she was speaking, better yet what she was saying, but her mind slowly put itself back together.

"You may l-like me, but, you love Russia, and I'm not going to-"

"I have no chance with him, anyone can see that!"

"But-"

"And you might deny it, but I know you still have a thing for Thailand."

"I don-"

"So we both like other people," she concluded, "b-but that d-doesn't eliminate our feelings for each oth-her. Y-you feel it, right?" She was losing her ability to speak to sobbing.

"…Yes."

"So then let's be together."

"Bel…" she was sobbing still. Maybe it was strategic, and if it was, it was working. Vietnam didn't want to see her girlfr-…her friend, hurting. She despised each tear that left her eyes and hated the slightest sound of them hitting and ruining that paper. Her notes would be completely illegible by the end of this. That lip had to stop quivering, and the only way Vi could think to do that, was to kiss her. To let their lips touch, and wipe her tears, and give her half-empty promises.

And so from then, they were together, girlfriend and girlfriend.

"We fell in love," Vietnam stated, with a dreamy tone in her voice. She started to describe.

The two were going to be apart for four months. After being an official couple for four years, it was a hard thing to ask them to do, but Belarus had a series conferences to attend, and Vietnam had no business going to Russia, so she couldn't find a reason to go see her. Belarus was simply taking a train from her place to her brother's, but Vietnam's train came first, to take her to the airport. The woman stepped on last of everyone, and stood behind the door frame separating them, smiling at the beauty she'd just kissed goodbye. She shouldn't say it first, she shouldn't, not when Belarus was at risk of leaving her any moment for Russia, but she loved her.

And she wanted her to know.

But she shouldn't say it first. She had realized she loved her at the oddest moment. They'd gone drinking, and Belarus had outdone herself. Vietnam, the heavy weight, held her girlfriend's hair back as she vomited into the toilet; very sexy moment indeed. Belarus finished, wiped her mouth, and let her girlfriend pick her up and carry her to her bed. Upon setting her down, Vietnam got a look at her face, at those slightly reddened cheeks and her eyes slowly shutting as she fell quickly to sleep, and the fluttering of butterflies in her stomach and warmth in her heart told her. She was in love.

It was a dangerous thing for a nation to be in love with another. Love suggested a relationship, and a relationship suggested there was a bond shared between them. At any moment, they could break each other's' hearts, break each other's' fragile trust, earn the other's secrets to use them against them, make their partner truly vulnerable. Their savage, selfishness that China swore every nation had would kick in, and they would rape and pillage and steal and take advantage of their relationship to better their nation. Nations were rarely even friends without some kind of economic or political tie telling them it was safe to be, and there was never FULL trust between nations.

So she couldn't be in love. And if she was, she shouldn't say it first, but as those doors started to close she forgot she was The Socialist Republic of Vietnam, she was Lien Chung, and Lien Chung was happily in love, and Lien Chung insisted she say it.

"I love you."

And then the door closed, and Belarus' horribly shocked face, and the movement of the train away from it sent Lien back into hiding, and Vietnam was scared.

Every call she made to her girlfriend, who she loved, went ignored for four months. All she got at the end of this span was a text telling her to meet her girl. Lien was excited, but Vietnam expected a trap and regretted every second of their relationship from then and back. Every kiss, every touch, every moan into her ear or bite down her neck, every personal detail she shared, every present she bought, everything she felt was a mistake; especially the love.

But, funny thing about Vietnam, she didn't fare well against Natalia Braginsky. The two nations brought out the human in each other, and as soon as Lien saw Natalia running towards her, she threw down her bags and excitedly sprinted towards her love. They embraced each other for at least a full minute before Belarus lifted a hand, and used it to move Vietnam's ponytail out of her way. She set her chin on Vietnam's shoulder, her lips near her ear.

"I love you," Natalia whispered. "I just wanted to say it to your face. I wish you hadn't left like that."

"..."

"Vi?"

"…Say…it again."

"I love you." Both girls smiled. "I love you." They kissed. "Ja ciabie kachaju." Vietnam laughed. "
Anh yêu em." The laugh turned into a snort at her girlfriend's horrible pronunciation of the phrase in her language, but she didn't care. She loved the woman, she loved the effort, she loved that moment, she loved her hair and her walk and her smile and how much she loved her snort. She loved to kiss her, and so Vietnam did again, before she returned the favor.

"I love you too."

Vietnam turned left on the road Taiwan was carefully watching. Where were they? Vietnam said she was taking her to a house that she and her mysterious girlfriend (who she'd only just learned was a girlfriend and not a boyfriend) shared, but she couldn't piece together what country they were in.

Well, there were other clues. Girls with another love: Hungary obviously, she sometimes thought Belgium had a thing for Spain, Monaco probably liked Seborga…but she was so young. Then again age was just a number for nations so that opened up the possibility that it was Liechtenstein. There were really too many options, but if she had to guess, she was going to go with Hungary, though…she couldn't believe Hungary would keep a secret like this from her. First her sister and now her best friend?

"You told her you loved her after just four years?" Just four years. For humans, long enough to have already been married. For nations, a mere blip, a few seconds in the span of then infinite lives, less than 0.3% of Vietnam's 1900 plus yearlong existence. But still plenty of time for feelings to flourish, for barriers to break down, for Lien and Natalia to force their will on the nations often forgetting about them and their desires.

"I did."

"How uhm," Taiwan began, thinking maybe the more she heard the more she could figure out, "how did you two get past being into other people?"

"We broke up."

"What?!"

"It wasn't all rainbows with us, kid."

She shouldn't have been scared, the logical thing to do in that situation would be to rub someone's back and comfort them, but she simply froze and stared at her. In the eight years now that they had been together, Belarus had yet to see her beloved girlfriend cry. Yet, there she sat, not even sobbing, just shedding a few tears at her kitchen table, and Belarus stood frozen.

"Vivi, what's-" A phone was shoved in her face before she could truly ask, hers, and nothing more needed to be said.

Vietnam had just been playing a game on her girlfriend's phone, an innocent act, when Belarus got a text message. It created a popup, one Vietnam honestly tried to close to get back to her game, but it opened her text thread. Her thread with Russia.

Bel: Why are you doing this?

Rus: I just want to know how you feel.

Bel: I've told you brother, I am done chasing you. I'm not going to love you anymore.

Rus: Really?

Bel: Yes.

Rus: What if I told you I wanted you to chase me?

Bel: You don't.

Rus: No, I do. I never saw it before, but, you were always there for me. I think I needed someone to love me and watch over me the way you did. Come back, sister.

Bel: …really?

Rus: If you want.

It had just been one moment. One moment and her heart swelled all over again with feelings she'd let go of to be with Vietnam. That one moment of swelling ruined her relationship, or so she saw on the phone as her girlfriend tried to stop crying before her.

Bel: Of course I will then, 6pat!

Rus: SEE? I knew you still loved me. Your tricks won't work on me sister. I don't know what you're plotting this time but I have no intentions of marrying you.

She lowered the phone from her view and a pang of something hard hit her throat. Immediately, tears started welling. No, it wasn't supposed to be like this. It was a mistake. One moment. This didn't mean that she didn't still love Vietnam. It was one moment! And yet the woman cried.

"Vivi, I-" She was cut off by the sound of Vietnam finally deciding to breathe. When one breathed, and they had been crying, just that sound of choking on pain halted the words in Belarus' throat.

Vietnam opened her mouth, but what could she say? Could she be mad? You still love him after all this time – or something like that? This was her own fault; she brought all this upon herself and she knew it. She was going to ask if Belarus thought she was stupid, but clearly, she was. She loved another nation, she trusted this other nation. She told her her pain and gave her her heart, trusting like a fool that it wouldn't be broken. What was this whole thing? Just Belarus' plan to use her, or maybe hand over evidence for Russia to use her? She trusted her, and now she was crying in front of another nation, humiliating herself. Half of her expected Belarus to pull out a camera, and add these photos to the stack of blackmail she surely now had.

She stood, didn't bother with wiping her tears as she knew more would fall, and decided to leave. She was not going to be tricked and fooled like this anymore. She wasn't going to keep being stupid.

"VIVI!" Belarus grabbed her arm. She cried harder; she'd once called this woman 'Baby-Bel' and 'Mama' at her request, and went so far as to use 'Love' to refer to her. She was such an idiot. And now she was crying, which she was sure Belarus and Russia and the whole world with laugh about later. Vietnam yanked her arm away.

"We're done."

"Vivi, I-"

"DONE!" Vietnam snapped. And it was fear from seeing those tears pool up in redden eyes, fall off wet eyelashes, and drip down the hills of her cheeks that kept Belarus from speaking further. She froze up at the worst moment, and when the door slammed in her face, she sobbed tears of her own.

"L là theo cách bạn nhìn ... với tôi," Belarus sang. She was not a very good singer at all, but her ex-girlfriend was, and the woman loved to serenade her. She'd start to like a song called "L-O-V-E", but it was written in English. Vietnam had gone out of her way to translate it, making a Belarussian version that rhymed and everything. While Belarus wasn't capable of all of that, she had been without her love for three weeks, and it was time she put in an effort.

"O chỉ cho người duy nhất tôi thấy."

"Stop."

"Vietnam, I'm sorry."

"I don't care."

"I just slipped up," Belarus began; she had a script, "I had one moment were I felt a tiny something resurfacing for Russia. It was a mistake to act on it, and I wasn't thinking about you when I did. Had I been I never would have even thought twice about leaving you for him. I meant it every time I said I loved yo-"

"I never would have done something like this."

She'd expected her to say that. "But, I was just in love with Russia for so long, it's hard to let all of that go cold turkey. But now-"

"I loved Thailand for 400 years," oh. "and I let him go without thinking twice to be with you." Oh. She hadn't planned that. Belarus spent a moment rearranging her thoughts, trying to find a spot in the script where she could pick up and handle that.

400 millenniums of loving a man that would never love her back did not compare to even a moment with Belarus. Thailand would never wake up next to her and run his fingers through her hair while she pretended to sleep. Thailand would never give her his peppers, even though he liked peppers, simplt because he knew she wanted them. Thailand would never send her a world map, and write on every country something she wanted to do with her there. Thailand would never be Belarus; but at least he never lied.

"V rất rất, phi thường…"

"Stop it with that song! You don't love me!"

"I do! Oh but I do!" She sat down as close to Vietnam as the other would allow. She wanted to grab her hands, but her ex pulled away. "Vivi, I love you. You know that, more than anything."

"What do I know?"

"Vivi-"

"How can I ever trust you again? I don't even care if I love you. Love means nothing to me. I've wasted it on so many men, I don't want just love anymore! I want to know that I can believe what you say to me. I want to know that I can see you happy with your brother, or any other man or woman for that matter, and trust that you aren't going to turn on me at any moment. I want someone who will ALWAYS be there for me, not just when there aren't other options. You can love me all you want but we don't have anything we need to be in a relationship, so I don't care." Her hands were shaking.

Her hands shook a lot when she got upset. Where a normal person would cry, Vivi would tremble uncontrollably; it was her body's way of letting go of some of the pent up emotion.

"I don't want to lose you."

"You already have."

"She kept trying, and I was convinced I'd never forgive her, but, after about six months it was Russia that convinced me I should. We were just talking, what about I don't' recall, but I got stuck with him. I'd grown to resent him, and I'm sure I was scowling pretty hard, but he didn't notice. The man just kept on talking."

"…and things have been nice at my place too."

"Oh?"

"Yes! Everyone is happy and friendly, and it's been months since my sister has scared me asking to get married. She…doesn't talk much at all. I'm sort of concerned for her."

"…"

"Sometimes I can hear her crying too, but she won't talk to me about it."

After hearing this I just suck into Russia's house. The meeting was in Moscow that time around so I knew she'd be there. I walked into her old bedroom, and she wiped her eyes.

"What are you crying about?"

Belarus didn't answer the question. Maybe her crying was strategic, and if it was, it was working. Vietnam hated to see her Baby-Bel cry. She was still hurt six months later - long enough for feelings to burn out and die - she was still hurting without her love. She didn't want to admit it, but if Belarus was going to be good to her, Vietnam wanted her back more than anything.

"Don't think we're back together yet." Yet? Had she said yet? "You're going to have to prove it to me, Bel. Prove that I can trust you again." She just had to be good to her. And she certainly would be.

Okay, so this is why I can't write 1 offs. It would make sense if I took one moment, like just one translated song, or one morning rising together, and wrote about that, but I can never do that stuff. I always want to go into every INTRICATE DETAIL of their relationship. Here we have my first romance, and, if you guys request that I continue it, my first 2-3 off. I hope I did a little something for the ship. It would've been better to show how they interact if I did that one moment thing I was talking about, and I could've made some readers fall for them the way I have, but I suck at that. So hopefully my…mediocrity, did something for someone.

Review if you want the rest of this story! I promise to make it more mushy!