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AnasAbdin

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DEAR READER
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YOU ARE THE REASON

ā
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@nenepapasworld
lord grant me the strength to accept the plot lines i cannot change
courage to continue to watch the show
and wisdom to remember i am not a member of the psychotic part Ā of the fandom
amen
#as i blog through the valley of the shadow of death
I will fear no canon. For Thou art with me. Thy fanfic and thy meta, they comfort me
Forever and ever AO3
Thisā¦
'i said I'm wearing black' š¤
'Why are you gay?' This is long and angry, I warned you.
OP is my fandom for over 10 years, but till opla I was simply chilling on new manga chapters and sometimes fics/memes. After opla I needed to see all the new content. So, I'm fresh into the new wave of OP, because of liveaction, and I'm already exhausted from 'gay labels' fans seem to place eVeRyWHere. Because to most people 'not being obsessed with finding a girlfriend/boyfriend '='being gay' apparently. And here goes my rant about Zoro(mostly) and Nami. Like, both Zoro and Nami are simply more mature in that aspect, but most perceive them as gay (not even bi, wtf). So they can have a cOnVeRsATion like two people and tease each other without nosebleed and/or hormonal crysis. Wow, maybe cause they survived alone from the childhood and learned early not to show their emotions and attraction?? I wonder. Then goes this 'Sanji and Zoro fight over gay reasons'. Please, all human emotions are suddenly gay now? Give me a break! Like, they bickered over Nami's internal motives oBVioSly, not because they necessarily wanted to get her as a girlfriend. Then they bickered because of Luffy's trust and devotion. They're both a bit insecure in this aspect, big surprise. Doesn't make you gay either.
All that said, I read and enjoy homoeroticism and m/m content. It is just the exact same problem now as with 'youre a woman I'm a man' trope. Why think, why explore character, just call him gay and your job is done! I love gay dinamics, but that's exactly it - a dynamic. If person A likes person B, it should be more than their orientation and gender.
Main reason why I cannot love Sanji wholeheartedly is exactly because he is 'gender first person second' guy. Like wow, there are SO MANY different people, but he focuses on that. Zoro on the other hand, showed me (a young girl at the time) empowerment before I knew the word. He had a friend, he supported her, he didn't belittle or humiliate her in the moment of weakness and despair and he kept their promise, even if nobody else knew about it, and it only actually mattered to her at the moment he said that. He treated Nami and Robin as people, but he always watched out for them as he acknowledged their gender, not letting it be their main characteristic. He is a really mature man, and I never perceived him as openly gay or straight, as he values personal traits far more than boobs. I like dynamics where he values Sanji as a fighter and a friend, not those where he ignores Nami's or Robin's bosom in favour of Sanji's ass. That's such a neanderthal approach I feel degradation vibes from the community. Try perceiving men/women as people, it is 21 century, FFS.
misunderstanding
- Good boy, hereās mum. APH 1hr drawing challenge Theme: With an animal friend Character: Cameroon
Nyaaaaaa
I bet the colonies just grew further in despair, as their dear parents bickered over who had it worst. "I was shot four times, I clearly deserve the last of the cigarettes!"
This is an old ask pertaining to WW1, but it prompted some interesting thoughts about the imperial dimensions of the First World War and the British Empireās colonial soldiers. So; hereās a snapshot in time between two of them. Content warning for injuries and mentions of death. Historical notes are under the cut.
The Somme, France. 1916.
Experimentally, he digs his spoon into the strange, darkly coloured chunk ofĀ something. Grimaces. The mud-stained label on the battered can proclaimed it to beĀ Fray Bentos Corned Beef. Personally, Matthew was disinclined to trust that description, given the unappetisingly greyish tone the canās contents had taken on.Ā Probably spoiled.Ā It looked slimy and smelled dubious.Ā
Not that the stink of the surrounding trench was much better. Nor the huge fucking swarms ofĀ rats.
Being rotated out of the frontline trenches to the support trenches normally meant a reduced risk of having your goddamned head shot off, marginally better living conditions and not having to break out the rations because you were trapped and pinned down by enemy artillery. But of course, a German offensive elsewhere had, infuriatingly, disrupted the supply linesāor so he heard. It was also entirely possible that someone somewhere, in the convoluted hierarchy of the British command, had simply fucked up. Again.
So, his surroundings are lively with the chatter of soldiers attempting to barter their rations for something rather more edible or otherwise appealing. His fathers are for one, doing so particularly noisily at the nearby medical station.Ā
āRosbif,ā Francisā voice is sharp and irritated. āFor the last time, I am notĀ trading my cigarettes for thoseĀ ābiscuitsāĀ of yours. Those things are far better at taking out oneās teeth than serving as sustenance. They are not fit even for stray dogs.āĀ
Matthewās not even really paying attention to them, but he canĀ feelĀ the dramatic eye-roll Lord Father must be giving his other parent. From his peripheral vision, he can see that Arthur is sporting several bloodied bandages.Ā
āTheyāreĀ perfectly edible and nutritiousĀ once you dunk them in some tea, you complete pillock,ā Arthur hisses. āIf you recall, I bloody well gave youĀ allĀ of my remaining cigarettes last week, when you begged for them! Because I felt sorry for your sodden, lice-ridden arseāā
āAs you should have been! I tookĀ four bulletsĀ thanks to your carelessness!ā Francis snaps. His eyes are fierce with a frantic blue fire. āGo and bother some poor private instead, will you! Perhaps you can scare those new enlistees from Birmingham into giving up their mothersā care packages by pulling rankāā
āāI am absolutely not going to do that andĀ you know it!ā Arthur is outraged. āWhat kind of man do you think I am? IĀ canĀ feelĀ the very terror those poor devils are going throughā"
Thereās a dark chuckle as someone sits down next to Matthew. āFine words, but wonder if he ever spares a thought for dragging us out here too.āĀ
His turban clearly hadnāt escaped yesterdayās brutal offensive unscathedāitās marred by several bloodstainsābut the tall Indian officer who addresses Matthew has evidently done his best to arrange it neatly. A regulation Lee-Enfield rifle is slung across his back, and thereās some kind of vegetable-looking stew in the mug cradled in his hands.Ā
Matthew snorts. Stabs his corned beef viciously. Thinks longingly of a hot roast and pancakes drizzled with maple syrup. āOf course not, Sir. That would be quite unlike Father.āĀ
He thinks of warming himself by a fireplace. Of the lush forests turning red and gold at this time of the year back home. Instead of crawling past the blackened, grotesque skeletons of trees ringed by debris and barbed wire, rocked by the fury of the shells bursting overhead. Past the frozen, unseeing gazes of not men but boys strewn across no-manās landāand all of that, for what? A grinding, bloody stalemateā
āHavenāt I told you to just call me Aditya, Matthew?ā The officer says calmly, stirring his soup. Which Matthew realises isĀ hotĀ and smellsĀ delicious.Ā Ā
āWell, youāre older than me,ā he offers awkwardly, trying not to stare too covetously at the vegetable stew. Older than Francis. Older than Lord Father. Matthewās eyes alight briefly on the insignia that adorns the older nationās uniform. āBe a tad strange if a captain was heard addressing a senior officer ratherā¦uh, familiarly.āĀ
āLetās be honest, a number of fellows hereāyour father included, wouldnāt find it strange in my case, would they?ā The dark-skinned man shrugs. The British imperial crown on the shoulder board of his uniform catches the light. Not for the first time, Matthew wonders, discomfited, just whether Arthur even comprehends the elder nation he so casually lords over.Ā
For his part, Aditya eyes Matthewās dinner with pity. āIn any case, Iām not sure anyone should be subject to that. Want some of this instead?ā
āNeed you ask?ā Matthew finds himself chuckling. In the past two years, heās had more conversations with Aditya than the previous two centuries combined.Ā (Weltkrieg, alright.) So, he knows not to let the spoon heād dug into his corned beef come into contact with the other nationās soup.Ā
Instead, he holds his own mug out for the other man to pour some of his stew into. āShit, where did you get this stuff from?ā
āMy regiment got priority for a fresh delivery, because we used up all the remaining mutton and vegetablesāincluding the mouldy onesātwo days ago. Apparently, they sent some scouts out to barter what they could from the villages behind the lines.ā
In response to Matthewās disbelieving gaze at this display of competenceāhadnāt Arthur once forgotten both their winter uniforms, evenāAditya smiles sardonically.Ā
āWell, Arthur, fool that he is in many ways, has enoughā¦self-interestĀ to recognise that he certainly cannot feed us corned beef rationsāor pork, in the case of several of my men, for that matterāif he expects us to continue bleeding for King and Country in these wretched conditions. And to not instead take a bayonet to his buttocks.ā
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how i imagine them looking back then, visually
Now listen, you rich people, weep and wail because of the misery that is coming on you. Your wealth has rotted, and moths have eaten your clothes. Your gold and silver are corroded. Their corrosion will testify against you and eat your flesh like fire. You have hoarded wealth in the last days. Look! The wages you failed to pay the workers who mowed your fields are crying out against you. The cries of the harvesters have reached the ears of the Lord Almighty. You have lived on earth in luxury and self-indulgence. You have fattened yourselves in the day of slaughter. You have condemned and murdered the innocent one, who was not opposing you.ā James 5:1-6
At first I thought this was an angry Tumblr post but then it turned out to be the Literal Bible and it got 1000x better
FrUk headcanon
Despite what everyone thinks, Arthur is romantic in his relationship with Francis. Very romantic. In his own way.
He is the one who stares at France thinking how damn pretty his face and body shape are and how his long hair waves with every little move he makes.
He is the one that stays awake all night long because France appears in every word he puts in paper and he canāt write anything else that is not Francis and the way Francis kisses him and touches him and all the love which Francis looks at him.Ā And thatās how he ended up writing a lot of poems and love letters instead of the fantasy book he, in the beginning, pretended to do.
Every time they have sex, he passes his fingers through Francisā skin the more soft and careful way possible. He takes his time to appreciates how Francisā body tenses up with each touch and how his breath turns irregular. England blushes and sights dead of love every time France moans his name and whispers that he loves him.
Arthur does not frequently shows how fucking cheesy he is and thatās why no one realizes. But Francis already knows it. He says nothing about it because he doesnāt want England to get embarrassed.
By the way, is when they both argued when Arthur shows his romantic side. He gets drunk and appears at Franceās house.Ā
No matter how many times this happens, Francis is still surprised when a drunk Arthur says āIām really sorry. Iām an complete idiot, but Iām an idiot who is so fucking in love with you. Please, please, forgive meā.Ā And Francis forgives him no matter what the reason behind the argument was.
Each time, Francis hugs him softly and makes him come into the house. He brings Arthur to the bed, cuddles him and kisses his forehead.
And then Arthur starts reciting every poem he has written to him. Every single one. And yup, Francis listens carefully to all of them till they both fall asleep.
Someone has to keep him from looking a mess..
āoh child, you still have so much to learn.ā
further fleshing out how i personally see their dynamics during the 18th century. i think arthur would have been pissed (āthe nerve of that boy!ā), but at other times itās the calm condescension of a father, who as he sees it, is watching his teenage son making the most foolish and amateurish mistakes.Ā
quite honestly, all I want for halloween this year is a good hetalia fan comic about the ghost of a famous french silent film star who haunts the movie theatre that was built over the theatre he died in when it burned down in the 20ā²s. he doesnāt talk, he just sits in the back and smokes cigarettes during all the films. but when the lights come on after the movie, heās disappearedā¦.Ā
enemies to lovers: not the kind of shit where A has power over and is constantly bullying B who canāt give it back, but rivals who are evenly matched and equals who are fiercely connected by how the other tests them like no one else falling into a routine of familiarity and eventually falling in love? sign me the fuck up!!!!
Imagine if one day Arthur plucks/waxes his eyebrows when heās drunk because Francis or Alfred dared him and due to the amount of alcohol he drank he just does it. So heās gotta go to a meeting and everyoneās just like WHAT THE FU- because Arthur has a massive forehead and his eyebrows have been hiding it the entire time
sorry itās not a world meeting but i love garbagedad and trashson interactions:
āWhat the fuck.ā Alfred is very eloquent when heās in shock.Ā
Arthur continues munching his scones serenely, as though he hadnāt just upset the underlying order of the universe.Ā āDo you have something to say, lad?ā Heās eating with his uninjured arm, comfortably tucked into a floral chintz armchair.Ā Ā
Alfred only stares, his blue eyes as wide as the first time heād seen Arthur regenerate his face after taking a shot to his jaw.Ā Heās staring at the wrongness of it all. The vast, boundless expanse between his fatherās eyebrows and his hairline. The utter nothingness in between.Ā
Alfred finally recovers, his voice accusing.Ā āWhat the hell brought this on, old man? Iām pretty sure they didnāt get singed off by a German bomb!āĀ
His father raises a thin brow at himāand the sight is so unnatural that it takes all of Alfredās willpower not to waver at the surreal visionāand stares at him as though Alfred is being particularly slow for not understanding the obvious. Then he has the audacity to chuckle.Ā
āAnd to think you were always boasting how much better you could hold your drink than everyone else. You donāt remember?āĀ
Alfred rolls his eyes dramatically as though he cannot believe the ordeal his father is putting him through, just as he always did as a teenager.Ā āNo, so care to finally enlighten me about what brought this on?ā
Arthur is amused. Alfred may be considerably taller and broader, no longer clad in blue but brown, the golden oak leaf of a major pinned to his lapel instead of the bars of a lieutenant, but some things never change.Ā
āIf you recall, we went drinking last night. Because you thought thatāin your wordsāāmy old man needs some cheering up after the past few monthsā. You drank enough to knock out an elephant, flirted with everyone there including the bartender and a lieutenant-colonel, gave out cartons of chocolate you filched from the supply depotāand dared me toĀ āprune those caterpillars.āāĀ
āFuck.ā Alfred is aghast. Then his eyes narrow.Ā āYouāre bullshitting me. Since when do you ever do anything I suggest?ā His father never does that. Ever. Except when it comes to Lend-Lease.Ā
Arthur stares at him drily.Ā āLike you, I exercised exceedingly poor judgment due to my inebriation. The only difference being that I remember it all.ā
āOh my god.ā This revelation appears too much for Alfred.Ā āI got you to do that and I donāt even remember it? Fucking hell! Whereās the fun in that?ā Heās sulking now.Ā
āIf itās any consolation, you wereā¦very popular last night,ā Arthur notes with amusement.Ā āThe chocolate especially helped.āĀ
the adventures of dad and son in the 1940s.Ā
just you compare omg