COUNTRYHUMANS ONESHOTS (COMPLETED)

France gosh dang it

New York was bustling as always, people wearing black walked around and tourists bought food from the street stalls. France felt in her element. She relished in the active atmosphere and would try to hit as many landmarks as she could before going to the UN meeting. Said country was sitting in her favorite bakery, sipping her coffee and eating a scone. France swiped through her phone, checking through her presentation again to confirm everything was correct.

Her phone vibrated on the table and played "Balance ton Quoi" loudly. France quickly answered. "Hello?"

"Hey France, " Northern Ireland chirped from the other end. France beamed and her posture relaxed.

"Hello darling, what can I do for you?" France cooed. She blushed when she realized her use of darling, but shrugged it off since she called everyone that. It just meant more with Northern.

Northern giggled, making France's heart well up with butterflies. "Can you come to the meeting a bit earlier? Something real exciting happened." France cocked an eyebrow,

"I'm on my way. Goodbye love!" France said, hanging up. She blushed even more. Ughhhh. Focus. France got up with her coffee and poured it into a to-go cup. She left the bakery and walked a few blocks down. The UN building was huge, but France stopped marveling at it years ago. She walked into the busy lobby and handed a certain man her keycard. The man nodded and led her to an old elevator. Once they were inside they struck up a conversation.

"Fancy seeing you here," the state said in his obnoxious accent. Despite France having a strong accent of her own, she hated New York's accent with a passion.

"You too," France responded curtly. The elevator pinged and stopped at her floor.

"I would lead you out, but I don't want to catch whatever they got," New York said slyly, closing the door. Before it closed he said, "You're gay, right?"

France was about to yell at him when she felt someone grab her from behind. Just from her grip and quiet giggling France knew it was Northern.

"Hey sweetheart," France purred, spinning out of the embrace. She moved down until her head was rested on Northern's shoulder. She looked to the flustered country. "What's so special about today?"

"Uhhhhh," Northern blushes hard, her freckles barely showing through her blush. France chuckled and stood up, and held Northern's hands. "Well, all the guys are-"

"Oi, North! S'that France?" a woman with a similar accent to Northerns stood behind them. France turned around to greet them when

Woah.

Wait, is that Ireland?

The proud, usually male country stood with her hands on her hips. She was clearly female but had the same flag as the usually drunk Ireland. The female country also wore a white shirt and the gray pants of her look-alike.

"Is this your cousin?" France asked Northern. Northern shook her head. What.

A female wearing a constraining button-up shirt matched with a short pencil skirt and black see-through tights. She noticed France and ran up to her. "Gott sei Dank," Germany mumbled. Germany, like Ireland, shouldn't have had more curves than France but apparently, he did. "I messed up."

"No shit!" another Female voice yelled from the meeting room. Germany sighed audibly.

"I, uh... messed around a bit with some chemicals and now the guys are... girls?" Germany progressively became quieter the farther her statement went along. France stared off into the distance, her mind already running from the though of 195 female countries, plus more independent territories and states being in the same room as her.

France felt a small tap on her shoulder. "France, help." Oh no. Oh shit. Britain is a girl.