Ukraine's birthday was coming up, and Russia was at a loss of what to get his big sister. He had called his younger one earlier that day, and what she had said was she was getting Ukraine a new comforter for the "cold nights that she did not get her gas for not paying bill". She sounded as though she was a bit miffed at their older sister for such a thing, but still cared enough to get her a heavy blanket.
Russia sat by the fire, leaning back with a book in his lap, a finger stuck in there marking his place. "What should big sister have?" He murmured. Something useful. Something she would use more than a couple times then just keep it because her little brother gave it to her? It couldn't be too expensive, as she still owed him money.
He called Lithuania.
"Hello?" The country answered, a little shake in his voice, having just checked and saw who he answered. "Mister Russia."
Caller ID now days made it startling to be greeted without even saying hello first, but continued on. "Hello, Lithuania. I have a question…"
"O-oh? What is your question, Mister Russia?"
Russia hummed into the phone. "What sort of gift would be good to give Ukraine, do you think?"
There was a breath of relief on the line. "O-oh. Miss Ukraine? Maybe a letter, with words of encouragement, along with a little trinket to wear."
Russia thought. The first one sounded like a good idea, but he never imagined Ukraine wearing that much. Belarus wore more jewelry, but even then… "Any other ideas?" He asked.
"W-well.." The young man on the other end coughed into his hand. "S-something she could use?"
"Like what?"
While any praise from Russia straight out would have been odd, the lack of any approval in his voice and the sound of disappointment from the large man was making Lithuania nervous. "W-well… I-I—A sickle or a hoe?"
Ivan closed his eyes. Ukraine was using much more advanced farming techniques now… And she kept her old tools for sentimental reasons. "Will not work."
"I-I'm sorry Mister Russia, but that is all I have!"
Ivan sighed. "Okay. Farewell, Lithuania."
Ivan hung up.
Something that he could give her that was cheap enough to not feel indebted, useful, and would use it several times without putting it up…
Would a hot water bottle be good? She had been complaining about her back… "But is too cheap. Even if she would like it." He muttered. But something good for her back… A back massager would be put up after the first few uses until he came over and made her use it again. A new bed would be too much for her to bear.
Then he thought of it. He could get her a bra. He doubted that she had been out to get a new one for years, and weren't they giving better support now days? That way she could use it, it wouldn't be too expensive or too cheap, and it would help her back.
But then he reminded himself of a dilemma. He didn't know how to ask Ukraine for her bra size for two reasons. One was that he didn't want her to know he was going to get her a bra, and the other was that he had no way of asking without become awkward.
How to get it? He wondered.
He knew what he had to do. The first thing that popped into his head. He tried to think of another way, any other way that he would get accurate measurements. He couldn't. He could not figure out another way at the moment. He sighed. Russia got up to get a drink before he made the call.
"Well, zat sounds like something I could do." The voice on the other end mused.
Russia groaned. "I need measurements as soon as I can get them. Birthday is quickly coming up."
There was a laugh. "Ahhh, mon ami, this little favor I can do, but how soon is it needed?"
Since Russia was going to head off to Ukraine's place in five days he needed it soon…
When he told the man, he just heard the same laughing. "Ahh, zat is fine. I can do it in that little time, however, it will cost you."
Russia paused. "How much?" He asked.
"Mmm… How about a little sweeter trade agreement?"
"I can give you an extra case of vodka in next shipment." He offered.
The man scoffed. "You know, I am perfectly happy with ze alcohol that I have."
"It never hurts to have little something different," He retorted.
There was a pause. "Make zat two cases, sil vous plait."
Russia smiled. This wasn't too bad. "That sounds fine. Do we have deal?"
"Ah-ah! Just a moment. I will have to come with you to pick out ze bra in the end as well."
Russia hesitated. "Why would you?"
France mused. "Because every bra fits every woman differently. I would not want you to get the wrong one!"
Russia thought it over. "So… Have to have Ukraine go to bra store and pick one out by herself?" He asked, discouraged.
"Oh no, but once I am done I will know what would be a good fit for ze lovely lady."
Ivan didn't like the sound of that. "France…"
"Oui?"
"How are you planning on finding out my sister's bra size?"
There was a chuckle. "Do not worry about that, mon cherie. I will get to you soon." And then a click and France was off the phone.
Russia had the feeling of dread he was going to really regret this…
Ukraine was working hard with development. They had gotten so far so quick! "Wait until Russia and Belarus come. I cannot wait to show them how far everything has gotten!" She enjoyed the fact she could now look her two siblings in the eye, and with pride instead of worry. So much, so much! She was practically flying. With their arrival less than a week away— She had a huge grin plastered on her face as she worked away on repairing her thresher.
"Ah, bonjour mademoiselle. I see zat you are working 'ard."
Ukraine looked up from her large piece of machinery and saw France standing close by. "Oh, hello !" She wiped her gloves on her oil-stained rag. "What are you doing out here?"
The golden haired man merely smiled, standing his distance as Ukraine waddled up to him. "Well, Ms. Ukraine, I 'eard that your birthday was coming soon, and I was wondering if you would mind me taking you to Dinner? As an early present."
Ukraine felt herself go red a bit. She shook her head. "No thank you, Mr. France. I don't want to be a bother."
The golden haired man just smiled kindly to her. "Ah, but madamoiselle, I came all this way to ask you to dinner. Would you not do me the kindness of humoring me?" He looked to her hand, but didn't reach for it.
Ukraine looked down at her gloved hands, covered in oil stains. She then looked at his attire. He might have just come off of an airplane, but he looked and dressed really well. She shuffled a little awkwardly. "Okay, but I will pay!" She said, meaning it, but at the same time she wasn't sure if she could do such a fancy meal which she was sure that the blond man was expecting—
"Non, Ms. Ukraine, I'm afraid you do not understand." Francis tutted in good humor. "It is your birthday that is coming up, so do not argue." He gave Ukraine a smile.
Ukraine protested, "But—"
"Ah-ah-ah~ Do I have to kiss you to keep you from you saying no?" He teased, putting his hand out and touching her lips gently with the tips of his fingers. Ukraine was confused and embarrassed, but did fall quiet. Frane smiled. "Now, do you have something nice to wear?" He asked, fingers still touching her lips.
Ukraine slowly nodded.
"Good. Go get changed, and I will take you out to a good place I remember from before." Francis let his hand drop from her lips.
Ukraine, blushing red, started, "Mr. France, it is too much, and besides…"
"No, no more talking." Francis smiled. "Or do I have to help the lady chose what to wear?" He teased.
Ukraine shook her head. She showed him in, and excused herself. She didn't have much to give to the man, but he told her it was fine, and that he had brought a book with him.
France waited out in the living room, with his book in his lap. Ivan wanted him to get Ukraine's bra size. Oh, what an opportunity to go out with the well-bodied woman, to romance her a bit. This might be his only chance to do something like this without incurring the wrath of Russia. Well, too much wrath.
"Mr. France, is this okay?" Francis looked up. Ukraine had washed off so there wasn't dirt on her. She wore no make-up, and she had on a skirt-suit.
It looked good on her, professional, however… "Non. This is not business. Go get changed into something sweeter."
When Ukraine hesitated, France stood up. "Would the lovely lady like my help now?"
She nodded. She led France back to her room and to her closet.
France was aghast. "Mademoiselle! This is not the closet a lady such as yourself should have!" It was almost all work clothes, along with a few sleep clothes. There was one other suite in there, this one a pants suit. "Do you not have any fancy clothes?" He huffed, searching through her closet.
"No. I don't wear them."
France popped back out. "Zen we shall go out and find you a proper dress before dinner." He decided.
Ukraine knew where the clothing stores were, but none of them had dresses. They were mostly work clothes. Cheap things that she could get grime or dirt on. France should have guessed this would happen and brought her a dress.
After two stores, France had spotted a higher-end dress store. He pulled her into it, and left her a little to the side. Ukraine was standing there awkwardly as France went through the dress racks. He came back with three dresses. "Come. I want you to try these on."
Ukraine was pulled to the back. Francis handed her a light gray dress. Ukraine put it on. It was floor length, elastic around the tube top. There was a band just below her boobs, which made her look as though she was going to smother herself with her own chest if she fell over. "Um… , I don't think this one will work." She took off the dress.
"I do not get to see?" He teased. "But don't ladies love to show off?"
Ukraine felt embarrassed. "Not all of us do." She muttered.
Francis handed over the next one. This one was ankle length, sleeveless V-neck with gathers just below her bosom. It looked good! But the back was low.
"How is zat one?" He asked, since she was taking a long time.
"Um… It's a maybe." She said.
"Come out, zen."
Ukraine came out of the dressing room. France had her turn around. She did slowly, and stopped when Francis put his hand to her back. "My, ze back is much too low for zat bra."
Ukraine nodded. "Yes. I thought so too."
"Excuse me for saying, but it seems to be very worn. It does not look like it's doing its job."
Ukraine blushed. "N-no! It's fine! It's worked for me for years." As long as it still snapped, she didn't need a new one.
France rolled his eyes. "'Ere. This is the last one."
Ukraine took the last dress and headed back in.
This one was a pale yellow, and matched her head band. It was knee length, with a sweetheart neck line and a bit of a ball gown shape to it. The overlay was a pale shimmery yellow, and it had a white band at her navel. It was pretty. And it didn't make her look big! She was marveling at it.
"Ms. Ukraine?" France called.
Ukraine took a moment, and slowly got out of the dressing room. She smiled at France. "I think this one is nice."
Ukraine came out, and she saw the look of approval in France's eyes. And it covered up her old bra.
France nodded. "I think zat one is the best." He said happily. "Come, I will pay for it." Before Ukraine could really protest, he winked. "Just think of it as part of your birthday gift." He also bought her a shawl to go over it, and a pair of cheap shoes ( After Ukraine insisted France was spending too much money on her for her outfit).
France was admitting to himself that he was enjoying this night. He had a beautiful woman that he could pamper, was about to go get some delicious food, and all the while Russia was actually the one paying for all of this date. He would give Russia the numbers later. And he'd look good in Ukraine's eyes from then on.
France placed his hand on the small of her back. "Just a little while more before we get zere." He mused.
However, when they arrived, France saw that his favorite place to go was replaced! Bu none other than those stupid golden arches that promised nothing but grease. He never thought that would happen!
Ukraine looked from Francis to the McDonalds, and said, "This isn't very fancy." In such a way that made France feel self-conscious. He coughed into his hand and Ukraine looked at him. "…I know a place we can go." She said with a smile.
Ukraine moved away from France. She took his hand in hers, and said, "It's a bit of a walk, but it is a nice place."
France was feeling foolish. He should have checked! "Hmm…" Was all his response was.
After ten minutes of walking, they arrived at a little family restaurant. It had low lighting, and a bit of a wait, but once Francis smelled the food, he was fine with waiting.
Though as soon as they were sat down, he couldn't help but notice how they treated Ukraine sitting across from him. They spoke too quick for him to understand her language, but it seemed in good nature, and quite a few come around, giving her the same greeting, and she would yell back, "Thank you!" in Ukrainian. That was all France could catch.
He smiled, and took a sip of his glass of water as he watched her, waving and acting like good old friends with the family. "Hmm, ze lady is very popular here, non?" He teased her.
She turned a bit red. "Well, I come here every day for my birthday. I have been here for the past three decades." She was smiling however.
France raised his eyebrows. "Is zat so?" He smiled. "If zat is the case, would that not mean you are supposed to come 'ere in a few days again?"
She nodded. "Yes. With my brother and sister." She was smiling happily. "When they are not busy, I've gotten them to come! Is such wonderful occasion." She sighed happily.
There was a lull in their conversation and a waiter came over, and asked what they would like for their drinks. Ukraine hesitated, and Francis said to the waiter, trying to remember the proper Ukrainian to say "Can you come back in a few minutes?"
He realized he butchered the language when he saw the man's face. He looked over towards Ukraine, who had the face of an innocent child staring at him.
Then she smiled and let out a cute little laugh. France felt himself flush a bit, but tried to keep his demeanor cool and collected. She spoke to the waiter instead, and he left. Ukraine looked over to Francis and had the same pleasant smile on her face. "You wanted a little more time to decide your drink, yes?"
France smiled and nodded. "Yes, I did. Thank you."
"But I thought that you would like it right away?" She asked.
France shook his head. "My dear, Miss Ukraine, to get ze proper drink, you must know what sort of food you are going to have. Simple. As. Zat."
Ukraine took a moment to process it. "Ah," She said, with a nod.
There was silence as they both looked over their menus. France kept looking over his to peek towards the large woman. She was a piece. She wasn't someone to turn a man's head for her face alone nor how she dressed, but she did have the nicely shaped body with a kind air about her… She was probably many a man's dream woman to take notice, and really take notice of him.
He was so absorbed in his thoughts about the woman he was supposed to be getting a bra size for (With thoughts connected to said article of clothing and not so much) that he didn't notice Ukraine looking right back at him, menu folded and asked, "Do you need help with menu?"
France was taken aback. "Well, if ze birthday girl would not mind—"
"It's not my birthday yet," She reminded him with a smile, and she got up, taking her chair and moving to sit beside France. She started to go through the items on the menu, translating as best as she could. All the while she was leaning on him, and he could feel her breasts pushing up against his arm. She was probably a triple D without a problem—but he couldn't be sure.
"Do you know what you want, Mr. France?"
Her voice snapped him out of his head. "Ah—Yes, I do." He smiled, keeping his head cool. "I would like this." He set his fingers on an item on the menu. It was some sort of pork dish he had never heard of.
"That?" She asked, a bit surprised. Though she mulled over it, and then pointed to another item. That one was much more recognizable. "I'm choosing this one. Maybe we can share?"
She was smiling. France couldn't help but smile back. Well, she was going to have a lamb dish. A wine or drink that would go well with lamb. Once they had ordered, France went about cajoling Ukraine to speak about what she thought about her birthday coming up.
"I want nothing more than to have Belarus and Russia come for a visit." She said with a smile. "Do not need anything else!" She said simply, smiling.
"Ah, but my good lady, what if they give you gifts?"
Ukraine hesitated. "Every year I tell them not to, yet every year they insist. I would much prefer to spoil them, but it seems like they spoil me instead." She looked a bit down trot.
France, since Ukraine never moved back to the other side of the table, put his arm around her and gently rubbed her shoulder. "Ah, I am sure that they feel the same way." He mused. "Getting spoiled by their loving big sister."
Ukraine's look of embarrassment was adorable. She looked unsure if what he was saying was true, but never tried to move away. "W-well, as the eldest I must!" She protested.
France chuckled at her reaction. She blushed red. Even in the somewhat dim light she clearly changed color. "Ah, but you also are entitled to pick on zem from time to time. Tell me, do you do that?" He asked.
Ukraine slowly shook her head.
France tutted. "Ah, what a shame. You missed out on such a fun part."
Ukraine blinked a few times. "Do you have a brother or a sister, Mr. France?" She asked, bewildered.
France rolled his eyes, and leaned his head on his palm. "Hmm… No. I do not. 'Ow ever, I do 'ave someone that I do think of as a brother." He smiled. "A little man who is nothing but a big bully." He shrugged. "But, we 'ave known each other for a long, long time. Little bit of scuffling from time to time. Just like brother should, non?"
Ukraine was startled by this, but she was smiling by the time he finished. She knew exactly who he was talking about and laughed a bit. "Yes. I do suppose so."
France was rubbing her shoulder gently, about to ask another question when the food arrived. Ukraine took that moment to move back to her other side of the table. France's side was a little cold, and he did miss her right there, but she was still his company. There was no need to fret, he told himself.
France let Ukraine start into her food, and then went into his own after glancing at it. It did look and smell good, however what was that under smell…? He didn't think much about it and took a fork full and took a bite.
France's mouth was on fire. It was burning.
Hell had opened a portal to his mouth.
Dragons were breathing fire in it.
There was no water in the town of Blagnac.
France sniffed. He was keeping himself under control. He was trying to. He took his wine aas calmly as he could and took a drink of it.
That spice had cut open his mouth, or it felt like it. The alcohol seemed to start to burn his mouth even more.
He coughed. "Will you," He coughed, "Excuse me?" He asked, getting up.
Ukraine was looking at him, but he couldn't read her expression. "Your eyes are watering."
Ah, her voice held nothing but concern for him.
"Do not worry," He said, squeezing his cough down. "I will be back soon." And he hurried off to the bathrooms.
It took him ten minutes of his head stuck under the sink to get the spice out of his mouth. He would never, NEVER be able to taste food again! He, one who could be sommelier! Oh his mouth.
When he came back out, trying to keep himself from grumbling, he had come out and there, at the table, was Ukraine with a completely different dish at his spot. She was smiling. "Are you feeling better now?" She asked.
France nodded. "Yes. I am. Thank you."
She smiled. "Good. Let's eat then."
France sat down, and noticed why his plate was different: Ukraine had switched their plates. There, the spicy batch of hell, was sitting in front of the poor woman. And she had taken her fork, and was about to cut into it, hesitating. "No, you took my food. Now, that is not good manners," He tutted.
Ukraine shook her head. "B-but is it fine! It is much too spicy for you." She said. "Is fine for me, see?" She went took a piece, holding it up to her lips, and hesitated.
France took his fork, and stabbed the piece of pork from Ukraine's fork. "Put down ze fork."
"But—"
"Put it down, and give me back my food."
Ukraine shook her head.
France sighed. "Then 'ow about we share?" He asked.
Ukraine looked up at him.
"We share your food." He said, a bit unhappy about offering up her food, though the look of alarm she had made him clarify himself. "The lamb."
Relief spread over her face. "Okay."" She said with a smile.
She once again moved over beside France, and together they went through the dinner, splitting it nearly even.
Even with a bit of arguing, France had gotten the bill, telling her that the evening was entirely for her birthday, even if he took half of her food.
With a pleasant goodbye, and Ukraine's apologizing to the cook for not eating more than half a bite of France's food, they left off down the street.
"So, please tell me," France began as they waited for the taxi. "Did you know how spicy that dish was?"
Ukraine nodded. "Yes. I even told you."
France felt a bit foolish. "Why would zey 'ave something that spicy?" He asked.
Ukraine thought. "I think it's because one of Dimitri's , the owner's, sons likes really spicy foods. He made some spicy dishes that are on the menu because of him. But a lot of customers like to go and try them to see how much they can take." She smiled at France. "I was actually impressed you chose the medium one!"
France took a step back. "Medium?"
Ukraine nodded. "Yes! I can't even take the mild one very well." She hummed. "Once Russia did, and he was red in the face for the rest of the night." She chuckled.
France sighed. "Oh, if zat was mild, I never want to try ze spicy. That 'ould be much too intense for me!"
Ukraine agreed, laughing gently.
France looked over at his companion. He was enjoying this night. Ukraine really was a sweet woman. Soon, their ride had arrived.
The two of them climbed in, and chatted all the way home.
Ukraine was glad to be back home. She had taken off her new shoes and was standing on the rough ground. France had told the taxi driver to wait for him. France had walked Ukraine up to her door way. She turned around to him.
"Are you sure that you do not want to stay the night here?" Ukraine asked.
"No, as I said I 'ave already paid for my hotel." He smiled. "Plus, is it not a little too fast, Ms. Ukraine? It is only the first date." He teased her.
Ukraine practically jumped. "D-date?"
And she was bright red in the face.
France chuckled. "Why yes my dear. A date. One that I had a wonderful time on."
Ukraine was flustered. She tried to speak, and instead was bright red.
France put a hand on her waist and brought her close. "You said you had a wonderful time too, non?" Ukraine nodded. "Would you consider it again?" He asked her. After pausing for a moment, she shyly nodded her head. France was also smiling now. "I will look forward to it next time then." He pulled her close, and gave her a kiss on the lips. It was lingering, and sweet. He then pulled her into a hug. After a few seconds, she hugged back. It was a nice, strong hug, and comforting.
He left her go, his hands trailing from her back around her rib cage and back to her hips. "Good night, lovely Ukraine. Sleep well." He gave her a wink, and the woman stood there at her front door, and watched him walk back to his taxi. He gave her one final wave, and smile, before heading off down the road. He saw the wave returned.
Russia had gone bra shopping with France. Russia was bright red the entire time, however. He could not explain to France enough that this was for HIS sister they were shopping for. He wanted something that Ukraine could wear and use on a regular basis… And France was picking out either frilly, lacy, or some things he did not ever want to imagine his sister ever wearing.
Russia and France were taking a break. Ivan had gotten a bottle of regular water, and France had gotten mineral water. "Mmm… You are extremely picky, Russia. For asking for my help—"
"She knows it is from me. I do not need to give her something that looks like is meant for a man to see." He shook his head. What was he saying? He didn't know. He didn't know how to explain why brothers should not give their sisters sexy lingerie.
France pouted.
"…How do you measure?" He asked France, after a moment's hesitation. He was curious as to what had happened.
France hummed. "Ahh, so you wish to know my secrets?" He asked. When Ivan didn't answer, France clapped his hands. "It is quite simple. You know what your target is wearing first, so you can keep in mind the restrictions that are imposed on a woman's chest." He ran his finger down his own shoulder where a bra strap would sit.
"Next, you look at the shape itself of their rib cage to get the idea of what bra they will need." He moved his hands to show a pear shapped body, a thin torso, and hour glass top.
Russia nodded. This made sense and wasn't… Too bad. Except that France had seen or asked about a bra that Ukraine had been wearing right then… Maybe. He snuck into her room when she was away and checked what kind they were and then went to see her… That made him prickle a bit.
"And zen the true measurments." He hummed. "Please stand up." Russia stood up as per France's command. "Rib cage, you put your hands around on their back," He put his arms around Russia, fingers meeting in his mid-back, "And zen bring them around." He traced around Russia's torso and an unpleasant shiver went up the large man's spine.
"With breasts, zer are many different ways to measure them." France went on. "But ze easiest, most effective way is too grab and play with—"
France stopped half way through demonstrating. He looked up, and there, towering over him, was the god of anger and rage with a hard smile cracking on his lips.
Ukraine's birthday was an amazing one. She had spent the past few nights thinking about what a wonderful night she had had with France. She was overly giddy at dinner.
When they had arrived back at her house, she received her presents. She had taken Belarus's comforter and said she would sleep in it that night.
Russia asked her not to open his until they left, and made her promise that she would use it.
Ukraine made him that promise, and saw both of them off. She went up to her room, watching out of the window as they both left in the same car. The car veered off the road a little bit as it left making her jump, but Ukraine knew things would be fine once it straightened back out again.
Ukraine looked at her present. She unstuffed the top of the bag, and there were a couple bras in it. One was simple white bra with a little blue bow at the bottom of each strap. It was an underwire, and it was made out of soft material. The second one was a plain flesh toned one that had a similar structure to the first. Those two came with a note written in Ivan's handwriting:
Dear Ukraine,
I hope that these will help out your back and do not feel too bad for you. I wish you to have good health and to rest often as well.
Russia
Ukraine felt embarrassed getting such a present from her little brother, but he was thinking of her back health. That was it. She decided to go ahead and try them on. She put on the beige one first. It was comfortable, and it fit perfectly! She reached around, stretching. Yes, it was great! Next she tried on the white and blue one. That one fit just as well as the first, but it was cute. She couldn't wear it in the field, could she? She didn't want to soil it. It was an off-day bra, she decided. One she could wear when she was lounging about.
She took off that bra, and knocked over the bag to the floor. She quickly reached down to grab it—and there was something else left in the bag. She turned the bag upside down in her hand, and out slid a tissue wrapped thing. She opened the tissue wrapping to find a matching bra and pantie set in sapphire blue, with beautiful lace. Ukraine went bright red. She stammered. How—Why did her brother give this to her? She was so flabbergasted she nearly didn't notice the second note that came with it. She opened it up, hands shaking still. She was relieved when she started to read a different hand writing from her brother's.
Mademoiselle Ukraine,
I must say that I had a lovely time with you a few days before. I am sorry for piggy-backing off of your brother's gift, but I must say this giant oaf (All respect due to him, of course) does not know a good piece from a bad one. So, I ask you to please receive these as well as a gift. From me of course. I hope that maybe one day you will model these for me as well.
With much eagerness to our next date,
-France
Ukraine's face went bright red. How confused she was! She didn't know where to start with the questions. About France, about Russia, about the presents.
And all she decided to do was calm down, and breathe easy. Today was her birthday. She would go to sleep and think about this tomorrow morning… But…
Still red in the face, she changed out of her clothes, and changed into the blue lingerie. When she looked at herself in the mirror, she couldn't help but notice that she was white as paste against the deep blue, but… The color had brought out her eyes, the set covered her well, even over her big butt, and it felt amazing- like silk. It was nothing she ever really wore before, and she was smiling. She loved her new underwear. Maybe, just maybe, if things went well, she might model these for Mr. France. Things were looking good for him, but he's still have to answer a few questions.
With a smile on her lips, and her new underwear all folded up and set aside, she curled up under her new comforter, and fell asleep to dream about the wonderful week she had just had.
This is what happens when you write down every idea you get in your sketch books and look through them. I'm glad I wrote this one down. This one is a write and publish without editing again. One day I'll edit these before posting, but today is NOT THE DAY *Super pose* Anyway. I hope you've enjoyed my little story of what would happen if Russia wanted to give Ukraine a birthday present. X3
Thank you for reading!