“ All I Know, All I Know Loving You Is A Losing Game “  - Duncan Laurence - Arcade

一人のための特別なムードボード !!! <3 @komaewda

I need more of this family

Whoops

Soooo… I’ve wanted to do this ever since my very very first APH art history dumbness. A parody, of course, off of Velasquez’s Las Meninas. I don’t want to say too much, but even with the changes I made, hopefully the atmosphere is at least similar to the original! Everyone was super encouraging to me through it, and I appreciate that so much. <3

I totally missed my 200th post today, but here’s 201 with the hope that you guys might stick with me through another 200!! <3 <3 XOXO

Home Bound.

(Aldo Raine x Female!Reader)

For the lovely @strudelcreme really hope you enjoy ❤️❤️

I'm so sorry if it's bad, I am literally buried in tests and projects 😭

Everything seemed to remind (Y/N) of home.

Every single thing.

From the flow of the river, to the way the towns would quiet down when night came. All such bitter reminders of what she left behind. Of what she might never see again. Such fear and homesickness had seemed to grip her these past few days, it was almost as if she were dying, and her mind was showing her the last good memories she had. At first, (Y/n) was hesitant to join the Basterds as their field nurse. The war absolutely terrified her but she was the only one who actually knew what she was talking about.

Through much deliberation and Aldo's persistence, (Y/n) agreed to join.

Now here she was, in the middle of nowhere France and trying to not cry. The tears blurred her eyes but she did not allow them to shed. She needed to get away from them. Once she was sure that everything of hers was in order, (Y/n) took off from the camp, not going to far as to avoid getting lost. Once she was sure that she was away enough, she finally let herself go.

With a hand over her mouth, (Y/n) felt her body shake, as each suppressed sob finally passed her lips. Her eyes were shut and in that darkness, the faces of her mother, father and friends flashed like lights into her memory. The thought of never seeing them again made her weak at the knees, making her kneel down. It hurt to be this hurt and terrified. With every sniffle and sob, (Y/n) prayed and wished that she was at least sent away, or taken away from all of this.

She could go back home to her ma and never talk about this. The girl was too busy crying to notice the figure that had arrived. Aldo waited for her to at least calm a little, so that he could make his move. It hurt to see the woman he had grown to love in such a state. Her heaving breaths came to a slow, and Aldo moved quickly to take her into his arms. (Y/n) let out a quiet gasp, feeling her face be collide with a broad chest. "S-sir! Um I-!"

"Shhhh, let it out "

His words stunned her, and (Y/n) couldn't stop the new flood of tears coming from her eyes. Aldo buried her face in his chest, listing to he'd breathing and waiting for her to finally be alright enough to speak. "I know, I know, shhhh." Aldo cooed. (Y/n) let out a brief chuckle through her tears. "You shouldn't have to see me like this…"

"I don't mind a bit, darlin'...what's the matter?" Aldo asked through a small grin. To be frank, (Y/n) dreaded the question. How on earth was she supposed to explain why she was crying? She was afraid of how she would be viewed after this, especially by Aldo. She backed up from him, and Aldo could feel his heart break a little when he saw her red, (e/c) eyes. "I...I miss home. I miss my parents...I miss my friends...I hate this…" She confessed, the previous worry disappearing for that moment. Aldo said nothing. "I want to go home...and I'm just so scared that one of you is going to die and I won't be able to save you." She expressed, sighing at the weight being lifted from her shoulders.

"I know how you feel kid...I find ma self missing home too and trust me when I tell ya', we're all terrified." Aldo breathed. "Ya' don't gotta feel sorry for wanting to go home...it's natural to feel that way. Hell, I can't wait to leave this shithole behind." Aldo joked, trying his best to being some levity to the situation. (Y/n) downcasted her eyes, drifting to her filthy pants. Aldo noticed her still sad look, and sighed. "Kid...I can't guarantee that all of us will make it back home... but I sure as hell will try." Aldo stated, confidence dripping from every word. (Y/n) smiled, wiping her eyes. "You really know how to cheer people up, huh Aldo?" She said.

Aldo smiled, and placed his hand on her shoulder. "That's what I'm here for sweetheart. Listen, how about we write up a letter to your folks, I got a guy in Paris thats willing to send letters to England. Will that make you feel a little better?" Aldo quizzed and (Y/n) could swear her heart leapt. She nodded her head vigorously. The girl looked like she was going to leap out of her own skin. "That's ma girl. Now come on, I think Wicki has some spare paper." Aldo said.

The two returned to the camp, where Aldo stayed at (Y/n)'s side for longer than usual. And he was right, the letter did make her feel a bit better. The fear and the yearning for home might never go away, but at least (Y/n) had somebody to combat it with.

She slept well that night.

@empress-writes @jiejie-eonni-onee-sama @jokersqueenofchaos @struggling-bee @strudelcreme @fandoms-are-my-friends-1321 @aurelie34-43

“And who are you?,” the proud Lord said “That I must bow so low”

Only a cat of a different coat That’s all the truth I know

In a coat of gold or a coat of red A lion still has claws And mine are long and sharp, my lord As long and sharp as yours

____________________________

Belgium had never seen her brother in such a state before. He was pale and determined as he tore the letter from Spain to pieces. She knew what it had said. It had said that he must pacify William of Orange, or Spain would do it for him.

Spain’s fury was familiar, the look of abject anger on the Netherlands’ face was new. Though he was an imposing man with a stern demeanor, he was rarely angry. A stranger might read his quiet or his blunt nature as anger, she knew him well enough to know that it was not. This deathly silent man, white as porcelain, with a vein pounding in his temple, was truly angry.

She had wanted to say something to him since he had gotten the letter, but it was hard to imagine what could be said. She cleared her throat and tried, “You should speak to him. Surely he will understand if you go to Madrid.”

He exhaled sharply through his nose, and it made her jump. It was the first sound he had made since he received the letter. It only confirmed his deep anger.

Then, he spoke, “I have already told him that his taxes are too high. I have told him that his lack of tolerance for protestants is unreasonable. I have told him so many times that he must respect my nobility. I have said everything to him before, and he still sends me this. No, I am done talking to him.”

He held up the pieces of the letter, like she could not already guess what he was talking about.

She folded her anxious hands together so that they would not shake. His tone was worrying her deeply. She said, “But, what else is there to do? He is our lord whether you like it or not.”

He fixed his eyes on her, and they were deep and unyielding. Silently, he took the pieces of the letter and threw them into the fire. Then, he took every letter and order that he had piled in front of him, and placed them into the fire.

Belgium gasped and put a hand to her chest. He couldn’t mean what she imagined he meant by this.

The Netherlands watched the letters burn for a moment, and then said, “I do not accept his right to rule. I think it is time that we drove him out.”

She repeated, shock seizing her vocal cords, “‘We?‘ This is madness! He owns half of the world, and you think you can fight him.”

The Netherlands scoffed again, and said, “I know I am small, as David was to Goliath. I will win, because God favors me, and I will slay this giant.”

He took the rosary from his neck, the one that Spain insisted he wear, and tossed it into the fire as well.

Seeing the look of shock and horror on his sister’s face, he explained, “Antonio is corrupt, and his church in Rome is rotten to the core. I will have no more of either of them.”

She put her hand to her own cross, scared that he might take that next. Tears, from fear for him, welled up in her eyes. Her older brother, who had been her companion for as long as she could remember, felt like a stranger to her.

He was past her kind words or soothing touch, and it scared her. Nothing she knew would bring him back to reason. She felt tears coming in earnest now.

He stopped in his fit of destruction, and took her free hand in his own. He said, in the soft voice he had always used when she was upset, “Emma, don’t cry. Come with me, and we will make a new Republic for ourselves away from this cruel tyrant with tolerance and beauty.”

She felt like she could not swallow past the thick feeling in her throat. Looking at him hurt. She said, tears slipping down her cheeks as she spoke, “I cannot go with you, and I cannot bear the thought of Antonio hurting you. You know what he did in the New World-”

Her voice broke as she thought of the tales of cruelty that they had both heard. She couldn’t even imagine that happening to her brother.

Her vision swam with tears as she said, “Please don’t do this. Find some other way.”

He shook his head resolutely, “There is no other way for me except this.”

_____________________________

Dutch Revolt (1568–1648), APH Spain, Belgium, and the Netherlands

Weirdly tedious to draw and messy visualization of a thought I’ve been having and posted about on another blog:

Friedrich the Gay Great should just have the hots for no other than Francois Bonnefoy, the most beautiful man who ever lived. Gilbert as Friedrich’s kingdom and friend/watchdog is just done with him. Anyone else who can take the crown? Literally anyone else? Please?

do you see this shit my liege

70s au atty n his wife

And what was up with that hella depressing little clip of Flash’s mom not showing up to pick him up at the airport?!

“A beautiful face, a vile soul”

Mikhail Kuznetsov as Fyodor Basmanov in Ivan the Terrible Part 2