#Hetalia refrence

[obamerzslop]

Caine's attempt to be Kingers wife no. 2 Daily slop comic

[chickenlittlefan]

hi chicken little 🐔

is that a refrence to the movie?

also your post about how it's hard to not mischaracterized Prussia and Canada due to projection is so true!! 🔥 The urge to project everything onto Canada is soooo strong for me!

Anyways, how are you? When did you get into hetalia? Hope you have a good day! 🪽

Hai, Yes it is a reference to the movie😭 !!

Also yeah the projection post is a huge sorta “issue” for me since the characterization would cater to me but nobody else. So it’d bother me knowing that. It’s hard to characterize Canada for some reason, like I have characters to base him off of but are they really “true to his character”? Although, I guess mischaracterization doesn’t hurt anyone once in a while (guilty). Projection is hard to avoid, characterization is important to me personally. So in a way I’d like it if it was accurate. I say that but I don’t think most of my posts are “Canada accurate”, sorry Canada fans…

Also I’ve been well for the most part😖 ty for asking! I got into hetalia around January and it was all very sudden LOL! I am not a #OG fan (embarrassed). I was a CH fan before I was blessed by hetalia 🙏

[maryvioletique7708]

Incorrect quotes 3 (rip)

Harry Osborn: *literally does anything in his passion*

Norman Osborn:"Useless."

Harry Osborn: *tries to do anything for Norman's liking*

Norman Osborn: "Useless."

Harry Osborn: *Tries committing Suicide*

Norman Osborn: "Committing Suicide is for the Useless."

____________________________________

*Peter 1 being held Captive by venom (Pt. 1)*

Peter 1 panicking:"HELP, HELP ME!!!"

The others Reaction:

His Friends mainly: *Tries finding solution*

Tasm 2 Peter Shock: "Oh sh*t."

Tasm 2 Harry Oblivious: "How did that dumb little sh*t got himself in that situation."

Raimi Harry: "I'll die again with Dignity."

Raimi Peter with a portable Microphone and speaker:

*Inhales*

*Exhales*

"DON'T TOUCH HIM-"

________________________________________

*Context: Msm Harry 'attempt' Tssm Norman to 'Apologies' *

TSSM Norman: "Tch, Why would I Apologies? I'd Never."

Msm Harry having the guts:"What if you're company was down graded because of your Employees, Are you going to Apologies to them for being this way?"

Other Harry's: *Surprised, Shock, and Stunned*

TSSM Harry: *Is Terrified*

Msm Harry:"......" *sweats*

Tssm Norman: "..................... >:("

Also Msm Harry: *Starts Running*

Also TSSM Norman: *Chases Him*

___________________________________________

Peter Parker: "Siri, how to say Seal in French?"

Siri: "Phoque."

Peter Parker Nodding: "Phoque...."

Also Peter Parker Pointing to Harry: "Zis is a Cute Baby Phoque."

Also Peter Parker Pointing to Norman:"Vith his Ugly Mother Phoquer-"

_______________________________________

Tasm2 Harry in da verge of emo-tions : "I'm going to Jump!"

Raimi Harry with a Megaphone: "Do a Flip!"

_______________________________________

Raimi Norman to Harry: "If You can sold your Soul."

Raimi Norman: "I did and look at me,"

Green Goblin: "I'm Fine. :)"

_______________________________________

Tasm Harry trying to be mean to Peter 1

Peter 1 oblivious and comforting him: "Ur my Fren now, let's eat soft Taco's Together. :3"

Tasm Harry:

<:'3

______________________________________

Peter 1 friending some of the people he just met in the Multiverse with touching

MCU Harry: "Pete, you can't just go around here and touch people just to friend everyone."

Peter 1 touches Harry

MCU Harry being confused

Peter 1: *Inhales*

"Boyfren :3"

MCU Harry: :///U?????

____________________________________________

Peter 1 looking determined: "So what if the person who possessed a sparkling charm was a Man? So What?!"

MCU Harry grinning: "So you're telling me that you found out your bi after giving me a quick kiss in the cheek?"

Peter 1:".....

✨Yes."✨

______________________________________________

Msm Peter: "Do you roast your own dad besides that Norman?"

Msm Harry: "What?, Noooo, I totally don't."

Also Msm Harry:

______________________________________________

MCU Flash in his Emo Phase: "Welcome to Downtown Coolsville."

_____________________________________________

(SFW)

Raimi Harry: "Your eyes are like the Ocean."

Tasm2 Harry: "Because I'm deep and Mysterious?"

Raimi Harry: "No because you're Salty and people are afraid of you."

___________________________________________

(???)

Peter 3: "Your Eyes remind me of the Ocean."

Tasm2 Harry: "Because I'm deep and Mysterious?"

Peter 3: "Yes, and I would like to take a dip on you-"

[fiore-rosewood9]

This is Arthur Kirkland's inner monologue but Francis just shuts him up and tells him he is beautiful and cooks him soup or some crap.

Don’t forget we have an INSTAGRAM

[digital999placebo]

so since summer is coming i felt inspired to write a short densu summer fic (below cut if u r interested <3<3). thanks to @wickedfairfolk 4 feedback n proofreading. 

lyrics in the drawing is from Mother’s of Inventions cover of “Any Way the Wind Blows.”

— Stockholm,1973

The evening is chilly but not unpleasantly cold, yet the flat cliffs are still hot beneath their bare bodies; another summer afternoon spent skinny dipping by Berwald’s summer house. Berwald adjusts his snus with his thumb, and Mathias stubs out a hand-rolled cigarette in a, now mostly empty, bag of cherries.

“I’m hungry,” he complains and sits up.

Berwald hums, a slight acknowledgement of his hunger, and lifts his hand to brush away a cherry pit stuck between Mathias's sunburned shoulder blades. The sun hangs low on the sky, nearly dipping into the water on the archipelago's horizon, and its redness glows in contrast to the darkness of the woods on the islands, it stains the sky, water and sparse clouds orange and pink. Nearby, someone is grilling, and Berwald can smell the burning coals.

“Ten minutes,” he says, and Mathias looks back at him.

“Five.”

He nods, yielding to Mathias's request.

Mathias scoots a bit closer before he resumes his lying position. He rests his head near the crook of Berwald’s neck, and Berwald curls his arm around his shoulders to comb his thumb through the hair on his chest. Mathias begins to roll another cigarette.

They bike home in their underwear because the sun is too far away and the temperature too mild to evaporate the water on their skin; their clothes are left messily folded and secured at the back of their bikes. Despite Mathias's hunger, he still wants to take the long route home and justifies it by explaining how it’s more scenic to bike along the edge of the island, on the path between the trees and the cliffs that dive into the water, than it is to just bike through the sparse woods. Mathias bikes with his arms at his side, steering the bike by leaning his body in the direction he wishes to go, and Berwald half hopes that he’ll crash if only to learn a lesson. The beaten dirt path is dry beneath their wheels, dust rises from the ground as they paddle, and it catches on their bare feet. The lights are on in the houses on the island opposite them.

“Do you love me?” Mathias asks, purely for greedy reasons, when they’re halfway home.

Berwald looks over his shoulder to catch his eyes. The distant sun bounces off the water’s surface and catches on the side of Mathias's tan face, his wet hair glows gold in the light, and before Berwald ponders the man’s question, he thinks to himself that if he’d ever have to remember Mathias by a moment, he’d like to remember him like this, warm and happy and glorious in the late June’s setting sun.

Berwald looks back at the path ahead, squints his eyes as though he’s thinking and deliberately hesitates before he answers. A tidbit of insecurity wouldn’t harm– it’d be beneficial, even, Berwald thinks, to humble Mathias a bit.

“I don’t believe in your question,” Berwald finally responds, and with the strained expression Mathias gives him, he continues by explaining: “I don’t believe you can ask a question like that. The phrase ‘I love you’ lacks any truth value, it’s merely emotive. Think of the nihilistic take on moralistic statements. As a performative utterance, maybe, but as an assertion, no. You can’t apply propositional logic to it, such as there’s a deduction in PS of A from G. As I said, you can express it to release some inner pressure by exclaiming ‘I love you' when you don’t know what to do with yourself, but to ask for it? Then it's meaningless.”

By the time Berwald finishes, Mathias has put his elbows on the handlebar, and all he does is snort in response, half in genuine amusement and half in agony.

“If you’re going to be talking like this, I will burn all of your Hägerström."

Berwald feels his mouth twitch upward in giddiness at the fact that he has managed to irritate Mathias, not that it's some grand feat, but it's a feat nonetheless, no matter how easy it is to rile him up.

“I’ll burn your Kirkegaard,” Berwald counters.

“Please do. I can’t stand his moaning.”

—

“Do you love me?” Mathias asks again after dinner, and this time it’s only partly for greedy reasons; he’s mostly just trying to win now.

They both agreed to leave the responsibility of the dishes to their future selves, and so the sink remains full of pots, glasses, ceramic plates, and cutlery.

It’s dark outside, and Berwald can see his reflection in the window. He’s sitting in an old armchair, a red thing that he bought in Amsterdam some twenty years ago, and reads whatever book Lukas has brought and then forgotten during his last visit, something dystopian about cats, bunkers, and intercourse machines. Mathias sits in front of an oak desk on the opposite side of the room. He answers letters from his bosses, Willem (who no doubt wonders when the next poker evening will take place and who’s turn it is to host), and a hysterical Rudy (the nickname Mathias, Berwald, and Lukas has settled on for Ludwig).

Berwald stops reading but doesn’t lift his eyes from the pages of his book, “‘Already answered that.”

Mathias sulks, “No, you didn’t. You talked some shit about truth and value and how love isn’t real. That's all."

Berwald looks up. Mathias is hunched over the desk as though he’s the plagued main character in a medieval tragedy, pen held loosely between his fingers, dripping ink black as the night outside on blank sheets of paper and his head resting dejectedly atop the back of his hand. The sigh that he lets out is so dramatic it nearly convinces Berwald that he really is the plagued main character in a medieval tragedy. A moment or two passes in silence, with Berwald, again, feeling his lips twitch upward at the display.

Mathias sighs once more before returning to his letters with a heavy hand, and Berwald resumes reading about a dystopian future with cats, bunkers, and intercourse machines.

—

“You know what I meant,” Mathias says once they’ve settled into bed.

Berwald squints in the dim lights and tries to make out Mathias’ face in the darkness. They're sleeping in two different beds, pushed into opposite sides of the room because Swedish summers are sticky and smothering, it’s deadly to share a bed with someone under conditions like these. Berwald would like to see the statistics for couples that share a bed in the summer and the divorce rate in the country. Yet the distance between the beds is not so great that they can’t hold each other’s hands comfortably. Berwald’s knuckles brush against the wooden floor, and the coldness that seeps along it stands in contrast to the heat of Mathias's calloused fingers.

“I know that you did,” Mathias continues, “you’re teasing me, and I don't think it’s funny anymore.”

Mathias lays on his stomach and Berwald on his side, both with their heads turned to face the other. Mathias has the bed under the window, and despite the dark and the fact that his glasses are on the nightstand Berwald can still see Mathias' silhouette beneath the empty duvet cover, accentuated by the moonlight. He drops Mathias's hand, and Mathias falters for a second until he sees Berwald kicking off his own empty duvet cover. Three steps, and then Berwald is sitting on the edge of Matias's bed, his hair nearly blondish white in the pale light and contrast to the tan on his face.

“Don’t come here when you’re sweaty,” Mathias complains, nonetheless slipping his arms around Berwald’s shoulders and allowing the swede to settle into his bed. It’s almost too small to fit the two of them comfortably; they both have to lay on their side, chests pressed flush against each other, and Mathias sneaks a foot between Berwald’s knees, and proceeds to wrap every limb he has around him, not unlike a rattlesnake.

“You irritate me to the point of rashes,” Mathias tells him and buries his face in the crook of Berwald’s neck.

“Sorry, I did understand,” Berwald begins and when Mathias remains quiet he goes on, “But you should know by now that I love you… You do know that I’m in love with you?”

“I know, but it’s nice to hear it occasionally. It’s not like Lukas will ever say it no matter how much I cry, so I’m really counting on you here.”

“I’m sorry. I love you.”

Mathias pulls back and presses a quick kiss to Berwald’s upper lip.

“What did you say the nihilists called that? Relief for an inner urge?” Mathias asks cheekily, and Berwald reckons he deserves it.

If Berwald had to explain to his younger self that he and Mathias would in the future not fall into explosive altercations over every little misunderstanding or wounded ego, his younger self would’ve no doubt shot him in his knee for slander; he’d always been quieter than Mathias, but possessed the same streak for savagery and self-importance. That mindset is so far away from him now, the one of aggression and pride, when everything had been about conquering, conquering, conquering, he thinks as he brushes away strands of hair that stick to Mathias's face with sweat and kisses him.

“A release for an inner pressure,” Berwald corrects him kindly.

“You can release my inner pressure.”

Berwald smiles at that, softly, and Mathias leans forward to pepper him with kisses, saying (exclaiming), “I love you” between each press.

Berwald's Hägerström books remain intact and unburned for another day.

[mygayrats]

My only cling to hope that we're getting a Spain nendoroid is that they didn't give Romano a tomato as an accessory for his figure.

And the fact that they even chose sunglasses over a *tomato*!? I can only think that they're saving the tomato for a possible Spain figure,,,,

[closed-third-eye]

I think not giving england his rich boy old money style is such a crime. Like this man wouldn't bankrupt his country to be able to wear sleek cut suits and costumes, like he doesn't have different sets of outfits for work, leisure, to go on casual outing and doing black magic. He has a cloak to match each occasion as a covering too, and sets of Cape clasps with custom designs. He would absolutely have 7 different kinds of black turtleneck, each just slightly darker than the other.

[kiwisbocetos]

Finally drew punk England! I just had to use London Calling - The Clash for this!

[koolkat9]

"Tally Ho to the Martyr"? ^^

Okay this went...somewhere. I mean it isn’t bad, but it does take place in WWI and discusses how soldiers often felt in the trenches mixed with how I think nations would have viewed it. I took a little inspiration from “All’s Quiet on the Western Front”

cw: death (nothing graphic but it is mentioned), war, historical references

- historical piece

- Taking place during a war or something (probably WWI)

- Kind of inspired by All Quiet on the Western Front-> focus on the effect and toll on soldiers

- Open with Francis and Arthur in the trenches, wet, cold and miserable

- The only sound is the sound of gunfire in the distance and the shaky breaths of soldiers

- Arthur goes to grab a cigarette, but finds it empty so Francis offers him one

- They hear a soldier crying quietly nearby

“Poor lad. They’re getting younger every day.”

Francis remained quiet, though his face contorted into a scowl. He took a long drag on his cigarette before muttering, “It's stupid.”

“Hmm?”

“It's stupid. The war. The ones who want this. The ones that benefit from this are tucked away safely in their big houses with their good food, clean clothes, and money. All the while these men...these boys are dying each day. For what? Defending their nations against enemies who barely know or believe in their own goal? Hollow glory? You saw them on Christmas...I-Its…They’re”

“I know… I haven’t forgotten that night.”

- They lapse into silence once more

- A shot rings out and there is a scream, then another shot

- Francis flinches and closes his eyes, not daring to look around at where the sounds came from, and Arthur tenses up

“It won’t last forever. You and I both know it.”

“Usually I would agree wholeheartedly, but this is not war. Not the way we know it. This is hell on earth.   

I always feel nervous posting historical pieces because of the lasting effects of the events. I try to handle it delicately and respectfully, but even with good intentions there is still the risk. I’ve just always found history so interesting especially the world wars and the perspectives of people living during that time (especially soldiers and their views in wwI which also inspired this fic). And I’m rambling...hope you liked it!

[thehetaliaaufiles]

Au idea

The newest transfer to World Academy, Alfred F. Jones, just found out his school doesn’t have football. (Because the school is in Europe and American football is well, only really in the U.S.) So he decides, fuck you societal norms, and becomes a cheerleader. But with a worry wart of a half brother, a mother hen of a cousin, a mischievous group of friends, and his scary new roommate, these are gonna be a long few years.

[hetaliatxtpostz]

Germany: Good morning, Vargas.

Italy: You're calling me "Vargas" after we just slept together?

Germany: Yes. Because I respect you as a colleague.

[mattiesnotaghost]

We all know you're a winter kind of guy, but what do you like to do during summer?

“ Hockey is a year round sport of course, I also play lacrosse. But summer is more of a time I get out and just enjoy myself! 

I like to go hiking, and camping. I like to go to the lake and fish to! But

[wafflecat2]

It's me, back again designing Genshintalia designs!

Here's China!

He deserves his own post since he's a cool guy. Also, this is my first time drawing him, so ye...

Anyway;

China is a 5-star Geo character! He uses a polearm but he can use a bow too. He's an Adeptus; known as the "god of storytelling."

Don't know what kind of role he plays, but being a sub-dps might fit the best.

Even tho China is 4000+ years old in Hetalia, In this AU China is a bit younger than Zhongli (about 6000 years old) But it would be funnier if he's older.

Here's the mini refrence photo of the design.

From this on, I'm writing a bit of China's lore. It might come close to canon lore, but I'm gonna ignore that.

China is an Adeptus known as the "god of storytelling." He told many stories to other Adepti and those who he seek worthy. However, many were charmed by it and wanted to know the arts of Adepti.

He refused many times. He didn't see humans worthy enough.

Before the Archon war, he used to take the form of a crane. He didn't have a human form, but he could turn himself to other birds as a disguise. He could talk to birds and they were loyal followers of his.

He was the one who invented the "Liyue Opera." It was different compared to present-day opera, but some resemblance remains.*

During the Archon war, He died to severe wounds. Before his death, his final wish was to continue his legacy by letting people tell stories and let birds sing.

People got the gift of storytelling and birds singing.

many years later, he reincarnated as a human. He still remembers the stories and the knowledge he gained before he died. However, he isn't as powerful as he used to be.

Not many know his existence as a god or human. Only historians know him (+ Adepti.)

Nowadays he roams around Liyue Harbor. He also travels around Liyue too. He complains about how slow humans can be since he cannot fly anymore.

To peoples eyes, he's the type of god you either hate or love. He has the balls to tell people (and Morax (aka. Zhongli)) what he doesn't like.

He sometimes stops to listen to peoples stories. He might tell people his stories and use his vision/Adepti powers to visualize them. Kids love him but storytellers dislike him. Some might even challenge him, but you probably can guess who wins.

He can also be seen watching Yun Jin's performance. Once, Yun Jin tried to ask China, if he knows something she doesn't about opera. He quickly avoided her, but she always tries to ask him the same questions, if she sees him.

END OF LORE PART.

This might change, but I doubt it. Hope you liked my lore writing part!

Next might be Russia or France since they also have lore parts.

*Note: I don't know much about Peking opera (or Beijing opera) nor its history. From what I've seen, it kinda looks like there imitating birds or smth? Especially this type of costume;

Idk it kinda looks like it.

Also, birds seemed not to exist back then 🤣

[koolkat9]

How about " auf wiedersehen, until we meet again " for the made up title? I'm thinking about writing a fanfic with the title and I thought that it would be interesting to see how different ( or similar ) the fanfics would be :)

I have two ideas for this actually:

Human Au:

- Ludwig ends up going to London England as a transfers student 

- There he ends up meeting Arthur who reluctantly begins helping him improve his English

- Through their sessions they become closer and decide to become regular study buddies 

- After Arthur invites Ludwig out to dinner after a long study session where he gets to know Arthur more personally, he begins falling for him

- They continue their study sessions, but Arthur is noticing Ludwig is becoming more and more awkward, but feels its best not to mention it

- Eventually it becomes too much and Ludwig suggests they discontinue their meetups

- Arthur is upset, though he can’t explain why-> there is a bit of argument leading them to end things on a sour note

- While apart, Arthur finally realizes why he was so keen on their regular meetups, he loved Ludwig

- Now realizing his feelings and noticing Ludwig will be returning to Germany soon, he goes to find him and confess

- Unfortunately, he has realized last minute and Ludwig leaves that day, so Arthur makes his way to the airport

- He catches Ludwig just in time, but as soon as he meets up with him all his confidence fades

Instead of a confession, Arthur apologizes for escalating things into an argument and leaving things so badly

- Ludwig apologizes too, saying he didn’t give a real reason which must have confused and maybe even hurt Arthur-> “Its...I just...I-Its personal and I’m not quite ready to tell you.”

- Arthur respects that, but makes Ludwig promise to come back so they can try this again

“Okay…”

Over the speaker, a lady’s voice announced Ludwig’s flight’s departure. Ludwig’s gaze lingered on Arthur before saying, “I guess this is it. Auf wiedersehen.”

“Yes...until we meet again.” 

Nation Verse

Cw: looks like I’m in a historical mood with another piece related to it. So warning historical references but nothing too specific. It focuses on the threat of another war looming and how Lud and Arthur feel about that.

- Takes place between ww1 and ww2

- Historically speaking, both their nations had a lot of interaction leading up to ww2 as Chamberlain attempted to prevent another war from breaking out 

- I like to think that Arthur and Ludwig would accompany their leaders to this meeting

- Ludwig knows they are only inches away from another war breaking out and it terrifies him, what is going on in his country terrifies him

- Arthur, who is holding onto the fleeting/false hope conflict can be avoided tries to comfort Ludwig saying he and his people won’t let that happen

- Ludwig knows better and he knows Arthur knows it too

- There is a tense silences until Ludwig realizes the time and says he has to go

- There is a lingering feeling between both that it may be a long while before they’ll see each other again, like this

“I don’t want another war.”

“I know...neither do I. I’ll do everything in my power to stop it.”

“I want to trust you but...it's already too late Arthur.”

Again, posting historical based things is nerve wracking, so I hope I didn’t handle it too poorly...Anyway thanks for the prompt and I hope you enjoyed both outlines.  

[aph-yippie-ki-yay]

"We are men. We must be swift as a coursing river."

[fiore-rosewood9]

Dante Vargas, also known as the homewrecker.

Things Italians did in just a couple of months:

-make the French cry by winning the Eurovision song contest;

-make the English cry because it was home but they decided it would look prettier in Rome.