I recently learned that, in order to talk to one another in space, astronauts will press their helmets together. This is because sound travels through the glass, making it easier to hear one another.
Now imagine America and Russia doing this in space.
Or better yet, imagine they're at a world meeting, and one of them casually presses their forehead against the other's to tell them something, having completely forgotten they're not in space anymore.
And everyone else looks on in confusion, trying to figure out what's going on.
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My favorite thing about the Hetalia fandom is that, even though we genuinely love it here and are having fun, we're also collectively in agreement that, we are, in fact, in Hell.
Never forget how when Italy first introduced Romano to Germany in the English dub, he did so by saying, "Since we've always been governed separately, he had to spend more time with our big brother Spain, so he's become kind of a dick!"
Italy, in canon, insulted his older brother to his face while introducing him to someone. And with a smile, I might add.
I feel like a majority of the Hetalia fans now are just adults sitting around a fire, passing around a bottle of alcohol, and wondering where we all went wrong (even though we all know).
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What Your Favorite Hetalia Ship Says About You (Part 6)
feat. TeuTemp, CanLiet, Germano, PruIta, RusLiet, and LietPru.
Please understand that these are jokes and are not meant to be taken seriously. We're all just here for a goof and a laugh.
TeuTemp: So, how's that religious trauma going? Regardless of what kind of Abrahamic animosity you've encountered, I'm sure it (possibly) has something to do with why you ship these two. You love the "childhood friends" trope with a healthy dose of tragedy and "forbidden romance" mixed in for good measure. So, the second you saw this ship, that was it. You were gone. Since then, you've become deeply interested in medieval and religious history, as well as acquiring a newfound appreciation for true Christian values that many self-proclaimed "Christians" claim to emulate. That, or you just love to see Prussia suffer as much as humanly possible. Chances are you're also lowkey a conspiracy theorist.
CanLiet: You guys are some of the most chill people here. And given today's world, I look on in awe and wonder at how you do it. The only thing I can figure out is that you either have your life completely together, OR your entire life is currently a dumpster fire, and you're currently ignoring it, or at the very least have learned to live with the chaos. You're polite to a fault and apologize for everything. Chances are a guy can punch you in the face, and you'd say sorry for getting blood on his hand. But that doesn't matter, as you are now plotting to exact anonymous revenge at a later date. Or at least you're thinking about it. But you swear you'll do it! Eventually. Maybe. Possibly.
Germano: You either are or were a Gerita fan at one point, but you felt like there wasn't enough "bickering married couple" vibes in it. You don't exactly like the drama of "enemies-to-lovers", but you do love the angst and tension it provides. Therefore, it seemed fitting to ship one of them with someone who hates their guts, whereas the other person seems to be relatively indifferent. Others ship a pairing because they think the characters work well together. You said, "Screw compatibility!" and went off to the races. And correct me if I'm wrong, but you've definitely entertained the idea of having them be a polycule with either Prussia or Italy at some point.
PruIta: Like the Germano shippers, you also have some kind of history with Gerita. However, unlike the Germano shippers, you feel that the ship needed less tension. To you, shipping is supposed to be fun, and you can't have fun if everyone's upset, can you? (Don't answer that). There's also a chance you came across The CD of the Awesome Me recording and the Cleaning Mr. Prussia minigame at one point, and the PruIta interactions have lived in your head rent-free ever since. Oh, and you've also considered making them a polycule with either Germany or Romano.
RusLiet: In your mind, a pairing isn't worth its salt if you can't squeeze out a solid 100,000 words of toxic, extra angsty fanfic from it. Others may strive to be as "unproblematic" as possible, but you've long since waved those guys goodbye from the rearview mirror. What others call terrible, you call intriguing. You're a self-proclaimed artist with a few unfinished projects. You also can't understand why people these days are so quick to be offended. And you possess a dark sense of humor that prompts some to gasp in horror and others to call the police. Regardless, you're a lot of fun to have at parties.
LietPru: This is sort of the same case as the RusLiet shippers, but with some notable differences. Those mainly being that you are an aspiring writer who sees fictional ships and real-world history as some tremendous writing material. Creating incredibly complex characters and dynamics is a goal for you in your craft, as well as finding out how many questionable Google searches you can get away with until the FBI comes knocking on your door. You've also had a fairly troubled personal life that's given you a lot of baggage to carry around, and I want you to know you can let it rest now. Your demons may be strong, but you are stronger. Take care of yourself, hun.
One of the most surreal experiences since returning to the fandom as an adult is realizing that all the other OG fans from the fandom's heyday are now adults themselves. Adults with college degrees, jobs, families, etc.
Like... Excuse me? Since when did we all grow up?
I understand it's just the natural progression of life. But when I think of how much my fellow fans and I have grown... As well as seeing my first few, true wrinkles develop around my eyes... The reality just hits me like a brick.
I'm no longer a fourteen-year-old girl sitting in her room, reading fanfic and squealing over her favorite ships as Mein Gott plays in the background.
I've grown up. And I will keep growing. I'll continue aging. I turn twenty-five two weeks from tomorrow. And none of it feels real.
