First Art In This Year Just Dropped 🌟

(I was supposed to draw a comic on this topic, but you know, I'd rather get ahead of Matthew from this sketch than finish it)

I have a hedcanon that countries are immortal and they just need a little time to recover. And one day Alfred seriously wanted to use this to win the Darwin Prize (The most ridiculous death or the most ridiculous attempt to deprive himself of the possibility of fertilization. In short, to bring evolution to a dead end, because you're stupid. It suits him perfectly).

But he couldn't do it alone. Therefore, Matthew helped him, despite the fact that the Canadian constantly said that Alfred needed not a prize, but a psychotherapist. And according to all the laws of their family, Matthew, not Alfred, was killed in the process.

And this is the reason why America really took offense at him, because he really won the prize. The prize of Alfred (!) is only because an American was thrown into it with a chainsaw. It's not fair 😤. Therefore, Arthur and Francis had to calm America and treat Matthew, because these two idiots can't sit still and not injure each other for five minutes. By the way, Matthew threw away the prize.

"Uncle Styopa Militiaman" – a Soviet children's poem about a huge brave policeman named Stepa. But it seems that this role suits Ivan even more.

YES. God, I wrote a post in the likeness of this below, and I would like to develop this idea. In fact, maybe the reason why Arthur's brothers hate him is that their most ridiculous death happened because of him? that would be fun.

Do you think Hetalia characters talk about their most bizarre deaths like the those "weirdest ways hamsters have died" posts

Hi! I'm finally going back to the usual drawing and brought you Peter and Arthur from the Soviet au. And a silly video from my tik tok :3

He made it 🥪

A page with France based on the song "Chance - Give us the tank (!)"

1."The farther the city - the better the landscape. And the sky is not in a haze, but in cotton candy."

2. "Here even trees grow somehow strange, and birds sing in a foreign language. While the plates with borscht cool down at the petrol station, we stick pins in the old atlas - and find out "There’s something else in the world!"

🤩and 🤲?

Thanks for the questions!

🤩 Who is your favorite character to write?

Hmm, it's probably Russia and Sealand. Russia is pleasant to me because it is a familiar region for me, and I do not need additional information to complement the picture. You can always use your memories, the people around you, and personal experience. Moreover, everything I write with him turns out to be very warm and homely. I hope the "Taste of happiness" (wip) will turn out exactly like this. Sealand, for me, is like a child who has experienced a lot and there is a deep and strong Story behind his childish image. I hope that it will turn out that way!

🤲 Would you please share a snippet of a wip?

"... The officer threw the boy into his cabin and dispersed the soldiers to firing positions, they scattered like cockroaches, and Rafs remained on the cabin floor. He's so small, the uniform comes off his narrow shoulders, and he looks at the man with fear while he walks like a barrel out the door and squints beady eyes at him. He combs his mustache and takes the soldier by the scruff of the neck again with a thick hand, sits him down at his desk and straightens his uniform, even somehow with care.

— You're a fool, Rafs. Smart people tell you - stay in the barracks and don't flout. And you? Oh, God be with you — waved his hand again, and spread out some papers in front of him

— I'm sorry, sir, I didn't mean to. But you understand - so many people are in danger, and I'm sitting in the barracks. But that's not the case! — The voice broke again and cracked so loudly, the boy wanted to go to war. To a real war with your soldiers!

— Set aside. It's not up to you to decide what they do, you're too small. And who will you protect with your discipline? You can't sit still for two minutes. Hold. — A calloused hand handed the boy an automatic pen and a sheet of paper — Can you write?

— No sir. Not able.

— Well, then you'll learn. Hold it and write it down — The boy had cards with the names of soldiers on his hands, there was a photo of a soldier on every corner, his age, parameters and occupation before the war. Were they all his people? How many! The boy was fascinated by the paper with incomprehensible symbols. And Rajuel himself was already considering the boy's attempts in an attempt to master writing.

The officer himself took a piece of cloth and lifted the soldier's pant leg, bent down, tied his ankle to the leg of a chair and sat the child back down. He checked for strength, and smiled smugly.

— Now you can't run away. You'll learn to write until we figure out what to do with you. And if we don't come up with it, we'll throw it into the sea. — The officer laughed and patted the child's head. He didn't seem to appreciate the joke.

— What does it mean to write? — Rafs turned the pen in his hands and poked it on the sheet, there was nothing. Poked again, still nothing. What is this strange device? I pulled my leg, and that one is tied tight. — And what will you do with me? I want to defend England!

— If you will, you will defend your England. In the meantime, sit and wait for orders — The man leaned out of the cabin and yelled at the whole deck — John! John! Come here, you brat!

Jonathan came running as if by magic, saluted and started staring at the child again, who was dejectedly wagging his free leg at the table.

— John, how are you spelling? – the soldier frowned and was taken aback by such a question..."

Thanks! 🤍

steal your brother’s clothes

Psssst! New chapter "Call me Peter Kirkland" dropped! 🌟