A few stories that I thought of that's not big enough to have their own oneshot so I stuffed them together :D
Options include: A Russian's Tale of Biting a Bear in the Butt, Russia and America Bonding Moment? In This book?, and "Okay. Language competition, right now, go."
They're all fluff I swear, with a mild splash of crack-
Although the first one brings back Russia's military past
It may be sad but without it we all wouldn't have our big buff rough and tough Russian it's essential to his character in my headcanon
Blatant excuse to give him experience in weapons to be badass as well *wink wink*
Also it's a callback to an incorrect quote I did a long time ago so yes :D
(Additional quip I have from the last two chapters-)
Russia, after the wholabang that is his trauma: Oh emotional support ushanka we're really in it now
Also, would you guys like another oneshot of fluff first, or a oneshot titled Reunion, where Russia and Germany meet again in 1992 ;)
Okay I hope you enjoy reading!!
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A Russian's Tale of Biting a Bear in the Butt
I need to pee. But it's also cold as hell outside. But I really got to to go, but it's cold as hell outside. It's cold as hell outside, but I got to go. Did I drink too much vodka? Not enough definitely, it's still cold as hell outside.
Russia, or teenage RSFSR back then, roughly around the physical age of eighteen or nineteen, yanked off his blanket and wriggled out of his military-supplied heat-insulating sleeping bag, grumpily stomping (But not too grumpily or else he'll wake the other twenty soldiers he was sharing a tent with) out into night-time Siberia, in several inches of heavy snow, shoving his hands into the heavy jacket he had slept in and already missing the warmth of his sleeping bag.
Igor had better not bought the watered down vodka, not after we pooled so much money together to get some. I put nearly 40 rubles into that. This better be the real deal stuff, RSFSR continued to grumble to himself, even though he was quite visibly swaying on his feet and obviously not thinking very clearly, after drinking far more than the recommended amount for a teenager, countryhuman or not.
Siberia was cold as hell and he'll going to have to get used to it for the next 12 weeks because he thought it would be a good idea to sign up for military training a couple of years ago. It was still a pretty good idea, but he was slowly starting to reconsider after nearly getting frostbite twice last week. Either way, he's here now and at the edge of the forest further away from the camp where he wouldn't be disturbed.
It wasn't so much of a forest, more of many sticks of black trunks that maybe might be alive trees. He went about his business and was investigating what he thought was perhaps a pinecone in the dark when the sound of a branch snapping made him look up.
Head foggy from what was definitely Not the vodka, he narrowed his eyes in annoyance and turned towards the direction of the noise, squinting as he tried to see through the darkness of the forest.
"Igor, this better be not one of your stupid tricks." He said loudly in Russian, voice just slightly slurred (See? He wasn't That drunk), and cupped his hands over his eyes to hopefully see better. There wasn't a reply, and in its foggy state his mind started to wander.
Hm, this is a really dark forest. Maybe I should have brought torchlight with me. You have to understand that he's speaking Russian right now, and English is a far distance away from his brain's language speaking department currently. However, he's still speaking with an accent that usually shows up when sober RSFSR is speaking English, so he's thinking in Russian with a Russian accent, if that makes sense.
Commander always say that forest is dangerous, there are wolves, bears, lynx, leopard...many things that want to eat you. But there's also things that You can eat, like fruit, and mushroom. But then there's wolves, lynx...forgetting something. Something with glowing eyes like those in the forest right now.
Bears....no, singular. Bear.
BEAR???
He snapped back to a sense of coherency and focused on those two glowing dots in the forest again, blood running cold(Oh the irony) as he followed the shape of the large shadow behind them, find himself standing only a few feet away from a Siberian brown bear, its breaths huffing out white into the air.
"Oh fuck." RSFSR breathed out, staring wide-eyed at the bear that was probably twice his size and thrice his weight, jumping slightly when it took a step forwards, one gigantic paw with huge claws crunching over the snow. The bear huffed and made a low growl, the fur under its muzzle frozen with tiny icicles.
Boy what would he give to have a rifle right now. Or any form of weapon. He stared right back at the bear and patted his pockets for anything, a knife, or even something he could use as a distraction. Nothing.
So he simply thought of the next best thing, balled up his fists and held them up, shifting into a fighting stance in the snow uncertainly. The bear only looked at him, its eyes glowing in the darkness as it sniffed the air again, white fangs glinting in its mouth.
"I didn't sign up to fight a god damn bear." RSFSR groaned to himself as it took another step forward, starting up his reconsideration for joining military school again. Seriously one teenager versus a full grown bear it was hardly fair. But said teenager was drunk off alcohol. YOLO was his only mindset right now.
"Come on!! Fight me like a MAN!!" He yelled, stumbling slightly on his feet as his vision swam from alcohol. The bear growled again and stepped forward, low on its hunches and claws scrapping on the snow that continued to fall around them.
"You heard me!! Square up, сука!!" RSFSR squawked again, raising his middle finger on his right hand towards the bear while continuing to taunt it, which was a very stupid thing to do especially as the bear rose up onto its back legs, clearing at least 9 feet tall. That meant that it was ridiculously big and if you ever actually meet something like this in the wild you should run fast in the opposite direction.
"The fuck is that supposed to do?? I said fight me, not intimidate me!! DUMBASS!!" He shouted on in Russian, grinning wildly(deliriously) from the freezing cold and his alcohol-induced accelerated heartrate pumping on overdrive to keep him alive.
The bear did not liked to be called a dumbass. It let out a terrifying roar that echoed off into the forest, and then got pelted in the face by a snowball.
"AHHHH. How'd you like that?!!" An equally terrifying drunk Russian screamed right back at it, reaching down to grab another fistful of snow to pack it tight between his hands. The bear grunted as it got hit again, and again, fangs bared and heading straight towards him.
It charged head first at him, and by some miracle (He actually just slipped on some snow) he dodged and rolled away with his arms braced around his head, popping back up on the side. RSFSR tackled the bear, which really didn't do anything, the bear was over 400kg from winter coat and fat.
He did manage to mash the bear face first into the snow, swinging himself over its back and then proceeding to stumble over his own feet and flop into the very snow covered ground. RSFSR does not recall much about this experience. (Or so he claims.)
At that moment however he did blame the bear, and screeched angrily before yanking at its coarse fur with both hands. The bear roared again and shook its body, before managing to get a mouthful of RSFSR's jacket.
So now it was basically a tug of war on who could hang on the longest. RSFSR jabbed the bottom of his boot against the bear's ribs, scrambling for purchase as the bear swung its massive head, basically yanking him off his feet in return and shaking him left and right in mid air like a ragdoll.
By yet another miracle/sheer chance/dumb luck, RSFSR was flung over the bear's back, the wind knocked out of him but otherwise quite unharmed. Animalistic rage and fury(And adrenaline and alcohol) surged through him and he opened his mouth in another angry scream, chomping down hard on the surface underneath him, which just so happened to be a few inches above the bear's stubby tail.
Another ear-piercing roar echoed through the forest as the bear felt teeth sink down into its rump, shaking itself vigorously to get rid of the pest still hanging on for dear life. RSFSR squawked again as one hard fling had him flying several meters back onto the snow-covered ground, a mouthful of bear fur between his teeth as he curled into himself, thick jacket absorbing the impact.
The bear groaned and puffed out a cloud of white mist, briefly licking its wound and pitch black eyes staring at the human warily. RSFSR shook his head and pressed his arms under himself as he pushed upright with a grimace, vision woozy.
"Блядь..." He mumbled, a headache building in his skull. The bear whined and lumbered towards the safety of the forests again, running away in a bounding trot.
RSFSR massaged his temple and forced himself to his feet, spitting onto the ground and wiping away the dribbles from his nose before they could freeze into icicles.
"Yeah, that's what I thought." He muttered again under his breath, shivering hands zipping up his jacket and feeling where the bear's fangs pierced through the fabric, annoyed that he'll have to find time to patch it back up in the morning.
The bear fur was kind of disgusting though. He spat again on the snow for good measure before stumbling his way back to camp, sticking his tongue out of his mouth in disgust, hoping not to freeze it off, and blacking out almost immediately once he flopped onto his sleeping bag.
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Russia and America Bonding Moment? In This book?
"Hey. Hey Russki." America tapped him on the shoulder, making him look up from the punch juice in a red solo cup he was grimacing at. "Yes?"
A card flashed in his face, with a singular word written on it in black ink, in his handwriting. America grinned widely at him. "Got you for Secret Santa."
Russia tried to hold back a groan. Last year, America gave Algeria a jack-in-the-box that scared the living daylights out of everyone when it finally popped up after a way too long suspense, and then the year before, something amongst the lines of a toilet-bowl mug.
Point was, he was slightly suspicious about the large, rectangular shaped box wrapped in colourful wrapping paper and topped with an extravagant red bow America was holding in his arms.
"Go on, open it up!" He pushed it towards him, smiling way too happily. Russia held it in his hands, trying his hardest not to shake it and find out what it was before it either exploded in his face or did something funny. "Right now?"
"Yeah! Everyone is doing it. What'chu waiting for?"
He was, unfortunately, right. Everyone was either finding their partners and tearing open presents, a loud chatter going on everywhere. Germany was somewhere lost in the crowd. America was still looking at him expectantly.
Carefully, he sliced through the tape with his thumb, slowly peeling away the paper instead of brutally tearing it apart. He got even more suspicious when America didn't even say anything about his method of opening presents for once, usually he would be teasing him and poking fun at him, saying that the 70% of the joy of getting a present was ripping the paper apart to get to it, but right now he was awfully quiet.
"This better not be one of your box in a box in a box tricks." Russia mumbled when he finally got to a brown layer of cardboard under the colourful paper. "Of course it's not, come on Russ, I'm trying to be genuine for once." America said, eyes wide and voice sounding absolutely innocent as he pressed a hand to his chest in complete earnestness.
"Here, but you might want to set down this box first though." He added quickly and grabbed the gift away from his hands, going over to a nearby table and setting it down, turning back to stare at him.
Russia walked over slowly, still not quite trusting him, but placed his hands on the carboard box again anyway and continued opening it. It pulled open to reveal a large flash of bright orange that only plastic could create.
"Ta-daa-" America waved his hands in the air and couldn't help bouncing on his feet slightly as he tried to see Russia's reaction, trying not to be too disappointed when all he did was stare fixated on it, still gripping the edge of the cardboard box.
"Look it, it's a N-Strike Elite AccuStrike AlphaHawk Nerf gun!!" He said all in one breath, pointing at it excitedly. "You're like a gun enthusiast as well, so I thought you would like this!"
Russia carefully let go of the box, reaching down to pick up the plastic rifle laying strapped up in zip-ties and more flashy coloured cardboard, still silently looking at it with no readable emotion at all on his face. "... a toy?"
"Psh- A Nerf gun's more than just a Toy." America waved him off, smiling quickly. "You wanna get it out of there now?"
They got a knife to start cutting away at the zip-ties, and Russia slowly held it in his hands, feeling its weight and examining everything on it, eyes wide and standing completely still.
"See? It's about as big as the real thing." He said happily, picking up each of the little dark blue styrofoam darts and showing Russia how to load the gun.
"... thank you." He finally got out, which made America's smile get just a fraction wider.
"Well, you're welcome. It's got some pretty cool features on it too, but I think you'll figure those out yourself, won't you?" He said with a little more enthusiasm, grinning at the taller man. Honestly, he'd never seen him act like that before, it was a little unnerving.
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America
Ger do you think I could change my secret santa gift to something else
Germany
Why would you say that? Plus you already gave it so how would you switch it now?
America
I got your boyfriend. I don't think he likes the gift AT ALL WHAT CAN I DO-
Germany stared as America spammed his textbox, crying about how they were going to fix their already strained relationship. He pulled out one of his earbuds and glanced over at Russia, who he had to admit had been awfully quiet for the whole ride home all the way from America's territory.
The taxi they were riding in pulled up in front of their house, and he quickly got down, thanking the driver and paying while Russia got their luggage, rolling them up to their front door and getting their keys out of his pocket.
"Is everything okay, schatz?" Germany asked curiously just as they walked in. "Yep." A quick, curt answer. He decided not to push it as he tucked his earphones into the pockets of his jacket, pulling his phone out again to text a couple of other people.
Their luggage bags hit the floor with a familiar thump, traveling around all over the world was routine for them anyways. But what he didn't expect was a little noise of excitement and then Russia rapidly unzipping one of his bags, pulling out a cardboard box and taking out what looked like a particularly colourful rifle.
"... what's that?" Germany asked again after a beat of stunned silence, a small smile creeping up on him as he watched his boyfriend. "It's a N-Strike Elite AccuStrike AlphaHawk Nerf Gun!" Russia answered enthusiastically, stumbling over some of the words with his accent steeping back into his voice.
He showed it to him excitedly, letting him hold it for a few seconds before taking it back and starting to load up all the darts.
"Did you get that from the Secret Santa? THAT was your gift?" He grinned right back at him, staring at his suddenly childishly gleeful boyfriend. Russia nodded and was off to enjoy his brand new toy by himself, holding it against his chest.
Germany huffed to himself and went about organizing their stuff, leaving him to his fun. Two hours later though, he was hiding behind their stairway, phone poking out to record the scene in the living room.
Germany
I doubt that he hates the gift.
Russia took aim meticulously and fired the gun from behind the couch with a resounding bang, the tower of paper cups he'd constructed over the table toppling over with a big clatter. He made a pleased noise of joy and hopped back to his feet, going back to rebuild the tower and rushing back a further distance to shoot again.
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Germany
Ame help I need nerf gun recommendations Russia's been tormenting me all week and I am at my limit what has the most firepower
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"Okay. Language competition, right now, go."
"Alright. Challenge accepted." Germany cockily, taking another swing of beer from his bottle.
"Pretty confident for a guy who's going to losee-" Russia slurred over his words slightly, grinning and slumping against the sofa, in a happy drunk mood. "I'll start?"
"Be my guest." His boyfriend hummed while picking up the TV remote to lower the volume.
"Ummm... English."
"Russian."
"Anddd German. Three for three." Russia grinned, raising his bottle for Germany to clink his own against.
"Okay, my turn." He pursed his lips, eyes squinted in concentration as he tapped the rim of his beer bottle against his bottom lip. "French."
"Demonstrate, then." Russia said with an eyebrow raised, chugging the rest of his beer before reaching for another ice-cold bottle from the cooler.
"Bonjour, je m'appelle Allemagne. Uhh- Parlez-vous anglais? Désolé, mon français n'est pas si bon que ça.(Hello, my name is Germany. Do you speak English? Sorry, my French is not that good.)" Germany recited, his natural accent staying clear off the radar even while drunk.
"Nice. I also have French on my list." Russia smiled smugly while high-fiving his boyfriend. "No way, I have never ever heard you speak French before."
"Sure I have. Baguette. Croissant. Ooh la la."
"That don't count!!" Germany exclaimed in a fit of drunken rage, bumping his forehead against his shoulder. "Does to."
"Does not! Okay, ground rules are You must speak at least a full sentence of the language to count."
"Fine. I have Spanish." He said promptly, taking another sip of beer before crossing his arms. "Well then start speaking."
"El clima de hoy es soleado con un toque de nubes. (Today's weather is sunny with a hint of clouds.)" Russia spoke steadily, spinning his beer bottle slowly against the armrest of the couch, before grinning again. "Heh, nubes."
"Shut up." Germany nudged him on the shoulder, giggling himself. "Did you get that from a weather report or something?"
"Yes." He grinned proudly of himself. "Do you know any other Spanish sentences?"
"Nope." He said again with a pop of the 'p' sound, tilting his head back against the couch to drink more beer.
"Then that's not fair. Change of game rules! Two sentences must be spoken!" Germany declared. "Fine. Vas a perder, Ger. (You are going to lose, Ger.)" Russia stared right back at him, ice blue eyes piercing even through the haze of alcohol.
"Rude." He huffed, kicking his legs up onto the table.
"Te amoo~ (I love youu~)" Russia cooed sweetly, pressing his cheek against his hand as he swung his bottle left and right, the beer inside sloshing around.
Germany groaned and dropped his head against his shoulder, curling up to his side. "I can't think of a language."
"We're tied four to four." He hummed nonchalantly, watching the TV program again. "You don't know Spanish?"
"Not good enough to make a good sentence anyways." Germany mumbled, burying his face into the soft fabric of his turtleneck sweater. "Aww, you can always try."
"Can't. Too drunk to think clearly." He sighed, golden eyes bleary and unfocused, stealing his bottle and taking a swing from it. "Oh oh, here's one. Italian."
"...ughh I don't know what to say though!"
"You could always talk about me." Russia said without thinking, a drunk smile spread over his face before he snapped back to coherency. "O-Or your hobbies. Or dogs! Or talk about Italy, there's a lot to say about him."
"Il mio ragazzo si chiama Russia. Era molto alto, ha i capelli bianchi e bellissimi occhi blu. Lo amo così tanto. Farei qualsiasi cosa per lui. Lui a volte è un grande cattivo. Ma va bene, perché lo amo. E in realtà è un cuore tenero. (My boyfriend's name is Russia. He's very tall, has white hair and gorgeous, blue eyes. I love him very much. I would do anything for him. He's sometimes a big meanie. But that's okay, because I love him. And he's actually just a softie.)"
Germany grinned proudly, looking up at him. "You look at me as if you're expecting me to react to something I don't understand." Russia mumbled as he snatched back his bottle of beer, disguising the light blush on his face by taking another sip.
"Just assume that I said I love you very, very much." He purred, leaning closer and kissing his cheek, again and again, smiling and giggling.
"Your turn."
"Hmm... sorry that I'm stealing your thunder, but Italian as well." Russia said after thinking for a second, smirking.
"Seriously?! Alright then let's hear it." Germany crossed his arms again, a soft scowl set on his face as he stared at his boyfriend expectantly.
"Ciao, come va?" He started off, head tilting to one side for a second, drunkenly laughing at something off to the side. "Io invece prendo una Margherita con pomodorini, per favor. Con Mozzerella extra, meno olio d'oliva. Sì, grazie, a posto così. Ok, bye-bye! (Hello, how are you? I will have a Margherita with extra cherry tomatoes, please. With extra Mozzarella, less olive oil. Yes, thanks, that's all. Okay Bye!)"
He ended with the sound of a phone call hanging up and went back to grinning cheekily at a flabbergasted Germany.
"God damn it Russ You're Cheating!" He exclaimed loudly, pulling away from his side and pointing accusingly at his cackling boyfriend. "You're cheating, you little shit- That was Italy's pizza order! Two weeks ago when we were hanging out!!"
"Nu-uh, 'm not cheating." Russia slurred with another loopy grin, struggling to keep a solid grip on his bottle. "You said as long as two sentences are spoken. I did say two sentences."
"YEAH BUT-" Germany threw his hands in the air and groaned in frustration. "No fair! That shouldn't even count as you knowing the language! You're just repeating what Italy said word for word!"
"Am not. I do in fact know the language. Now I know how to order a pizza!" He countered, still smiling.
"Ugghh you're the worst." Germany rolled his eyes and reached over with both hands to grab his cheeks, squishing and pulling at them playfully.
"And yet you let me win." He grinned, struggling slightly as his boyfriend smushed his face again, golden eyes set with a vengeance. "For that I demand that I get one free go. No speaking the sentences, you just trust that I do know the language."
Russia thought about it for a second before shrugging, sipping more beer. "Sure, why not."
"Okay. Hmmm... oh- Japanese!" Germany said with a brilliant grin, snapping his fingers. "And you can't debate that either, Japan's one of my best friends." He continued with a smug expression on his face.
Ice blue irises sharpened considerably, dangerously so after that last sentence. "Going towards the Asian languages, huh?" He hummed with a sharp grin, setting down the bottle of beer on the table. "You know, in terms of country I'm Eurasian, so I sort of have a field advantage here. Do you really wanna proceed?"
"Is that a threat, Russ?" Germany growled. "Possibly."
"Pshh- bullshit. You don't scare me." He waved him off, squishing his cheeks again for the fun of it and because it made his boyfriend look positively adorable.
"Really now? Chinese. Slash Mandarin." Russia batted his hands away, a confident smile over his lips.
"... you're kidding. I don't believe you." Germany crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back against the couch.
"Well you should. Cuz I do- know the language." He grinned again, booping his nose in the middle of his sentence cheerfully.
"Prove it." Germany snarled, much like an angry hissing kitten. "Wait wait- no that's not fair either. No reciting off some paper, no mimicking anyone's phone call or stuff- no... I don't know just None of your creepy copy and paste language speaking skills." He listed off, getting progressively more and more drunk.
"... also it's not fair because I don't think I know a single lick of Chinese. How do I know you're not just speaking gibberish to bluff me?!"
"Fine. I'll call China." Russia said promptly with a mildly offended huff, digging his phone out of his pocket and struggling to swipe through his contacts.
Meanwhile Germany's beside him like 'Oh damn he's really going for it' while swirling his bottle of beer as they waited for the call to be picked up.
"喂? (Hello?)"
"Hiii-" Russia said cheerfully, still in a drunken haze before clearing his throat and sitting up straight, ready to take this seriously. "早安, 吃了早餐吗? (Good morning, have you eaten breakfast?)"
"吃了, 你打电话干嘛? 有事吗?(Yeah, what are you calling for?)" China's voice crackled muffledly through the phone pressed against Russia's ear. "没事没事- 只是看看你做什么吧了.(Nothing important, I just wanted to see how're you doing.)"
China huffed on the other side of the call, and Russia could already imagine her rolling her eyes, pressing the tips of her fingers against her temple with a soft smile. "我好啦, Russ. 你那边现在不是晚上吗?(I'm fine, Russ. Isn't it night time where you are now?)"
"是啊. 我现在和 Germany 一起. (Yes it is. I'm with Germany right now.)" Russia said happily, turning his head over to his boyfriend sitting beside him with his head in his hands and elbows against his knees in a position of despair. Wide golden eyes flickered over to stare at him, as one does when they recognize their name being said.
"Say hi, Ger-" He whispered, pulling the phone away from his ear to hold it out to him with a wide grin. Germany glared at him dangerously, tilting his bottle of beer back to chug its contents.
"现在几点了? (What time is it?)" China said in a serious tone of voice.
"Uhh... 刚过半夜. (Uhh... just pass midnight.)" Russia chirped in reply after a glance at the clock.
"你真是. 还不去睡觉干嘛? 为什么打电话来? (Then why aren't you going to sleep? Why'd you call me for?)"
"都说啦, 看你好不好不可以吗? (Can't I just see how you were doing out of sheer curiosity?)" He exclaimed innocently, pouting with his bottom lip poking out. China laughed through the phone call, shaking her head good-naturally.
"晚安, Russ. (Good night, Russ.)" She said, ending the call after a brief second.
"晚安." Russia answered to himself with a huff, pulling his phone away and turning it off. He suddenly did remember the reason for him calling China and turned back to look at Germany with a smug grin.
"Shall I say I told you so now~?"
"No. Don't you dare." Germany groaned, face buried in his palms.
"I think I deserve to say it though." Russia said tauntingly, tapping a finger against his chin.
"How do you know Chinese??" His boyfriend exclaimed, running a frenzied hand through his hair. "It's one of the hardest languages to learn globally! HOw do you know how to speak Chinese????"
"First off, I'm not a native English speaker. Second off, China and my father, history lesson, in conclusion she is now my friend. Third off, I don't know, I was bored one day." He listed off his fingers, the effects of being drunk slowly coming back after a while.
Germany slumped heavily off the couch, pretty much admitting to his defeat to their language competition. "We've been dating for literal decades. WHEN did you learn it. That's what I'm most annoyed about, cause you apparently never bothered to tell me."
"Hm... I don't know. Recently."
"Recently?? Recently, like last week? Last year? Before the turn of the millennial??" Germany squawked, raising his hands to the air, flailing around in attempt to get back onto his feet. Russia shrugged nonchalantly again and reached his hand into the bowl of mini pretzels on the table to snack on one.
"Unbelievable!" Germany shouted.
"You literally just heard me carry out a conversation, I'm pretty sure that's kinda believable."
"I think I know just about everything about you and Then you pull out this bullshit!!"
"Do you still love me?" Russia asked as his boyfriend stalked off in the direction of the kitchen.
"YES I STILL LOVE YOU, YOU INTELLIGENT DUMBASS." Germany screeched, stomping back out and slamming two more bottles of beer onto the table.
"I also know Arabic!" Russia said helpfully.
Germany threw his hands in the air in sheer frustration and walked back to the kitchen while swearing in German some more.
"عيرة فيك. (Basically 'Fuck' in English.)" Russia muttered to himself, a drunk smile still plastered over his face. It wasn't really a sentence but at this point Germany probably didn't care anymore. Saudi taught him that during a particularly boring conference.
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Russia can have a Nerf gun. As a treat. For all that he's been through.
And yes he knows Chinese! Why well because Chinese is my second language and Russia is closer to Asia between the two of them.
(Sorry if I have other translation errors for the other languages :'D)
Look at this little smarty pants :DD Germany may be book smart with his PhDs and stuff, but Russia is smart in his own way and I think that's something to be very proud of too.
Effortlessly funny when they're drunk together-
These minishots aren't very Germany centric I know lmao idk what to write about him
Thank you for reading!! And I hope you have a nice day/night!