2021 Vento Aureo Calendar By Ensky.

Denmark ! , What is like having a Dutch boyfriend ( ＾∀＾)

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The Brush of Oblivion.

(Aldo Raine x Female!Reader)

For the lovely @tsukkimochi, really hope you enjoy ❤️❤️ sorry if this sucks, u wrote it pretty late. 💕💕

War wasn't a place where love could grow. It was ugly, filthy and whatever other synonym you could think of. Having to look over your shoulder all time, stress nawing at your stomach every time a police officer so much as looks at you. Love wasn't destined for a time like this.

Then why was it happening to Aldo? She was just another recruit, another set of hands to help with the war effort. She didn't even seem to notice him all that much really. (Y/n) (L/n) was a rather quiet person, almost as quiet as Stiglitz, though she spoke more than that killing machine ever did. Aldo, once he was aware of his own affections, he began to be a bit more...forward with (Y/n). She would in turn smile and just think he was being nice. The Lieutenant knew that there were oblivious people in this world, but my God, did (Y/n) take the cake.

"Lieutenant, with all do respect, I don't think she is really takin' the hint." Donny stated. He was seated next to Aldo, carefully cleaning his gun. Aldo sent him a death-like glare, making Donny avert his eyes with a laugh. "Ya don't say Donowitz. Ya don't say." Aldo grumbled, making Donny pat him on the back. He knew that Aldo was feeling down about the whole thing, but for some reason, seeing a man like Aldo sulking was hilarious. Donny would even joke about it to Omar, who was too afraid to say anything near the Lieutenant.

"I really don't get why you don't just tell her." Donny expressed. "You like her, she doesn't notice all the googly eyes your making at her, you have to tell (Y/n)." Donny stated. "Tell (Y/n) what?" Asked (Y/n), making both Donny and Aldo jump. Aldo cursed under his breath, glaring at Donny one more. Donny smirked and motioned him forward. "Yeah uh...listen, could we speak in private please?" Aldo requested. (Y/n) nodded. She pointed a finger to a farther part of the camp. "Is everything alright, Lieutenant?" (Y/n) inquired. "Yeah...it's just um…" Aldo stammered, something that literally never happens. "The Lieutenant likes you!" Donny yelled from the other end of the camp. (Y/n) gasped and Aldo noted to murder Donny when he has the chance. A bright blush appeared on her face, her (e/c) eyes never leaving Aldo. "I'm sorry bout' that but..what Donowitz said is true...I been in love with you for a while now." Aldo confessed. It felt good to get that off his chest.

"I...I don't know what to say...I thought you were just being nice, you know...with the compliments and all…"(Y/n) confessed. She wasn't naive, the dangers of pursuing something like love during this time...it was dangerous. "Well, I get it if ya don't feel the same." Aldo reasoned, even though it killed him to admit it. (Y/n) smiled. "I...love you too." She confessed. " I was just too scared to say it…"

Aldo Raine didn't believe in true happiness, to him, you only got what was given to you. But hearing her saw those words, he just might change his mind. A new reason for life was birthed that night, a reason that Aldo was ready to give his life for. One way, or the other.

@struggling-bee @jokersqueenofchaos @sergeant-donny-donowitz @aurelie34-43 @empress-writes @jiejie-eonni-onee-sama @fandoms-are-my-friends-1321 @tsukkimochi

in 1497 Philips the handsome married Joan of Castille, meaning that in 1519 their son, Charles V inherited both Spain and his territories in the new world and Austria and the low lands… What consequence does this have for the nations?

Antonio and Roderich wonder during the night of their ‘union’ what kind of game it is they are playing… one of kings and queens, or one of pawns. 

Read the full story by @katemarley Here:

AO3: X Tumblr: X

Made as a commissioned companion piece to her story ‘Fugue’.  Interested in commissioning me? Check my rates:

X 

Speaking her language

For the charming @empress-writes​ 💙💛🧡💖

Hope you’ll like the story!

The South of France is a safer place for the Basterds, as they took a break after their last mission.

They were currently hidden in a remote cottage near the small village of Gassin. Its inhabitants were kind and helpful, which was a blessing for Aldo Raine and his men.

“No news from the superiors, Lieutenant?”

“Na yet, Donny. But ya can be sure that we’re gonna heard about them, one way or another!”

“So, let’s enjoy our free time!" happily exclaimed Hirschberg as he ate a piece of cake.

"Can you sometimes stop eating, you glutton?" admonished Andy.

"But Mrs. Dupin’s pies are so delicious!”

As the others were gently chatting, Wicki was gazing at (Y/N) (L/N), the only woman in the group. He could not help but smile while looking at her as she read a book. 

If you ask him, he would probably answer that everything she did was perfection. To sum up, he fell heels over head in love with the woman.

Of course, the other Basterds were aware of it and never missed an opportunity to tease him about his crush. Even Hugo loved taunting him!

Wilhelm’s daydreaming was interrupted by Utivitch, who shyly asked:

“Hey, (Y/N)?”

“Yes, Smithson?” answered the woman with a gentle smile.

“What are you reading?”

“Oh, I was reading Les lettres de mon moulin by Alphonse Daudet. It is a French collection of short stories about Provence!”

“Okay… Wait, you understand French?”

She laughed.

“Uti, can you remind us what is my job here?”

“She is the translator, you dummy!" growled Hugo.

"Don’t be so harsh, Stiglitz!" scolded Hicox.

"Indeed, I am the translator of the group.”

“Of course!”

“By the way, how many languages do you speak?" inquired Omar.

A sly grin appeared on her face.

"What if we played a little game?”

Keep reading

Long Odds (OmarUlmerxFem!Reader)

Requested by @mylovelyreblogs​

@owba-chan​ @war-obsessed​ @inglourious-imagines​ @tealaquinn​ @struggling-bee​ @frozenhuntress67​

Let me know if you wanna be added to the taglist! :)

Donny set his beer down on the pub counter, and smirked, “Five hundred francs.” Hirschberg rolled his eyes, “What is that? Like ten bucks?” “Yeah, but we’re in France…so five hundred francs. Take it or leave it.” Hirschberg snickered, “Aint'cha got somethin’…luckier than that?” Donny sneered as he muttered under his breath, “Fucken lucky, I’ll show you lucky.” He set his lucky baseball card on the counter. Rare, 1939 Teddy Williams baseball card. Autographed. Omar raised his eyebrow, and grinned, “Goin’ all in, huh?” Donny smirked, “Might as well. I’m the one that needs the least luck here.” They all grumbled as the betting went on. They were betting on something…well…odd, to say the least. You were a basterd, and a friendly one, too. Friendly with all of them.  As a matter of fact, you’d gotten a laugh or two out of Hugo, which wasn’t an easy thing to do. As much as they hated to admit, each of the boys had a thing for you at some point or other.

They looked back to the other side of the pub, where you were dancing with anyone and everyone that so much as looked  in your direction…. Boy was it a sight that would never fade away from anyone’s memory. You were one of a kind basterd…but a basterd no less. Still, you were more than anyone of them could have ever bargained for. Especially Omar. To him, you were more than he could ever say. You were what they’d all dreamed of having by their side once they got home… But goddamn was it a perk having you there by their side in the war, where it mattered most. Where it was rough having friends, but…none of them would have it any other way. Now…they were all betting who you’d be “friendliest” with in the end… And looked down the counter, “Aldo?” He rolled his eyes, set his whiskey down with a clunk, and crossed his arms, and muttered, “I’m gettin’ too old for this shit…” He cleared his throat, “And I respect Y/n too much to just bet on th-” Donny smirked, “You’re scared, huh?” Smitty snickered,  "You scared you’ll lose, lieutenant?“ Aldo narrowed his eyes as he looked at his men, ”Lose?“

Hirschberg nodded, "You don’t got it, old man.” “Old man?! Old man?! Wicki’s the oldest.” Smitty nodded in agreement, “Oh yeah…Wicki’s older.” “Shaddap Uti.” Donny raised an eyebrow….If he was in danger of losing his Teddy fucking Williams baseball card, he wasn’t letting anyone get away with less than that. All or nothing. “Neat stash of tobaacco there, sir… Y/n’s always sayin’ that stuff aint no good for you. ‘Specially if you’re gettin’ up there in your years-” Aldo rolled his eyes, “Alright, alright. I’m in.” He slammed his tin of snuff on the table, next to the card, the francs, and the mementos everyone was willing to bet.

“Omar.” The last one to enter the bet. And frankly, not the one most of the boys were worried about. With him, it was a long shot. …Even if they wouldn’t advise him (or Smitty, or even Wicki) to join in on the bet, he had something they all wanted. One impressive hoarde of chocolate. He knew that was what they wanted from him. And he was confident… He wasn’t very good at holding  a poker face, but frankly most of the boys were pretty dense as to why he was smirking, “Alright. Hersheys. I’m in." 

"Everyone quiet!” Hirschberg spotted you coming toward them, and they all scrambled to hide their wagers. “Hey, why’s everyone so quiet?” You stood at the end of the counter, after dancing for what seemed like an eternity, but not quite done for the night. The tavern’s band was taking a short break. And you just needed to cool off a little. Aldo knew that, and held up a glass of whiskey on the rocks. The most refreshing thing he could think of. “Y/n?” You smiled a little as you caught your breath, “Ya know that brunette back there keeps eyeing you, sir?” “What?” You smiled, and gestured back to the dancing youth, “There.” “O…oh..well…” You smiled, “Maybe save that drink, huh?” “I-” A little way down the counter, Omar lifted a different glass. Cognac. Which is all you liked to drink. Which he knew. Hugo, thinking you had to be at least a  little tired out, and noting the band had been playing some slower songs earlier, he figured, he might as well give it a shot. “Y/n….” You looked to him, with a naive, sincere smile, “Yeah?” All he had to say was “Dance?” And you nodded, “You got it!” You smiled at him, and turned to get to Omar. So…the basterds watched as you passed Aldo by, and somehow Omar and Hugo seemed to gain favor… Minutes later, after finishing that cognac from Omar, you were back on the dance floor…and Aldo withdrew from the bet, seeing that the brunette on the dance floor had a thing for the Tennessee man. He swung by the bar with her, and passed by the basterds. She was clinging to him, and looking up at him dreamily, passing a lit cigar to him. He held it up, eyed his tin of snuff, and sighed. “Men.” They all stood waiting, as if he’d give an order. He smirked a little, knowing he’d get snuff some way or another, “I fold.” And he was off, with his new acquaintance. With one less basterd in the race, the stakes were raised higher. “Five hundred and fifty francs!” Donny held his poker face…he had to. Frankly, that was all the francs he had to offer. Smitty looked on as you danced the night away, “Y/n likes music, right?” Omar chuckled, “Oh she does, Einstein?” “Look.” Smitty narrowed his eyes, and Omar rolled his, and smiled “Y/n don’t care what music plays, Smitty. She’ll dance to anything.” Donny laughed as he crossed his arms and leaned against the counter. It made him happy to see you happy. Frankly, he didn’t really care who won the bet, as long as you were happy. He only bet to begin with because…well he’s Donny Donowitz. He’s just competitive. And impulsive…and regretted betting his lucky card. Still, he smiled with a sigh, “Ain’t that the truth.” He took a drink and looked back at the counter. His competitive instinct kicked in. He grinned, as he nudged Hugo, and looked on to the dance floor, “Y'know what Y/n really likes dancin’ to, Hugo?” Hugo raised his eyebrow as the band came back. Hearing the blaring, wild trumpet beginning to play, as you looked back at them from the edge of the dancing crowd, waiting for your dance partner, His eyes widened as you gestured to him… Hirschberg taunted him too, leaning over the bar, and snickering “That’s right. Ragin’ wild swing.” He looked back at Wicki, as if asking for help for the first time in his life. Wicki shrugged as he sipped some bourbon. “You aready asked her to dance. Might not be the best time to disappoint her, kumpel.” Utivich laughed, “Her? Don’t dissapoint us!” He pushed Hugo off his stool, and toward the dance floor. He grimaced, and looked as if he was about ready to snarl at them like a rabid animal… 

Just then, you walked out from the dancefloor, and took his hands, and pulled him toward the crowd, your laugh like a beacon in a stormy night, pulling a smile from him.

“Damn can she do the goddamn charleston!” Donny chuckled, looking on. Omar narrowed his eyes, trying to figure out where Hugo had gone.  "L-Is that Hugo?!“ "Y-Yeah….” “Damn look at him go!”

The basterds laughed and started cheering for him, until he stumbled a little, and fell. “Look at him go!” Wicki smiled, as you came back to them, your laugh was like a song to him. Laugh! That was it! He tried to capture that light in your gleaming eyes in the milisecond before your laugh rang like a mermaid’s song. A joke or two would do it… Except he stumbled on the punchline. There was a lot on the line, after all. And the boys laughed at him and his mistakes. Omar chuckled, “Careful boys, you’ll break an old man’s heart.” Wicki rolled his eyes, and the jeering went on, Hirschberg smirked, “Might be having a stroke.” You rolled your eyes, though you could hardly contain your guity smile as you punched Hirschberg’s shoulder, “Oh, you’re so mean!” He looked up at you, and caught sight of that hidden grin, and felt at ease with himself for a moment. He’d made you smile…that was a start. But it wasn’t much. Omar knew that, as he smirked and took a sip of his beer. 

You could read a room. Better yet, you knew each of the basterds inside out, and knew something was up. You weren’t blind either, so you had a pretty good idea at what was happening. You were killer at war, but a heartbreaker at nature. All it took to throw Hirschberg off his game, and blow everyone else’s egos to bits was to wink at him. One little wink.| Omar hid his smirk again as he raised his beer to his lips, and raised his head back, dousing his retained laugh with the rich, bitter, cool beer as he shot you a knowing, loving glance.

************ “Y'know…I think…I thinkn y/n’s on to us…” Hirschberg sighed as  he loked down at the crumpled, orange and red leaves as he marched with Donny, Omar, and Smitty to a rendezvous point. You had gone with the rest of the basterds to a somewhat distant town for supplies, and they were meeting you at  a hideout that was roughly the halfway point. The rest of the boys were discussing their progress in the wager, and Hirschberg was a little unsettled. Donny sighed as he stretched out his arms, “Oh yeah? What makes ya say that?” Hirschberg grumbled a little then admitted, “Made my move…and she wasn’t havin’ none of it. Got far enough to try and sneak in a little kiss.” Omar, who had been splashing some water from a creek onto his face, stopped. He looked up, still facing away from them to hide his cheeky grin, “Yeah? How’d that go?” He knew you. He knew you’d always be true. You’d told him so, once, long ago. And he believed you. Still, he couldn’t help but sigh a little, remembering the soft, secret touch of your lips. Sure enough, your lips were often cracked by the carelessness of war and winter, but still the best kiss a soldier like him could ever ask for.

Hirschberg wouldn’t know. And that’s what made Omar smirk. “She slap you?” Smitty couldn’t help but laugh a little, and Donny suggested, “Punch ya?…Can’t blame her. Wouldn’t want a face like yours near me either.” Hirschberg rolled his eyes, “No! She….she put her fingers…on my lips, goddamn it!” Omar smirked as he walked by him, patting him on the back, “Well, looks like you’re losin’ you’re luger.” “Yeah, yeah…” He sighed, wondering in defeat if he’d really lose his luger, “Then she said. She looks at me with those eyes, y'know…those fucken eyes…” Omar nodded with a sigh, looking up at the sky, as if he could see them, “Yeah…I know those eyes…” The boys didn’t quite catch that air of sincerity in his voice. That trace of love, that hint of reminiscence Omar’s dreamy daze was interrupted by Hirschberg’s brash voice, “And ya know what she says? She pushed me back, see. And she says to me, 'Hirsch, you gon’ tell me what this is all about or not?’ ”

Donny gasped, almost in disbeleif, like he was hearing gossip in a salon, “No!”

Hirschberg replied in the near same tone, “Yes!” Smitty shook his head, “Well what’d you say?!” “I said no, that’s what I fucken said!” Smitty rolled his eyes in exasperation, “So you admitted there was something going on!?” “No, didn’t you hear, I said no?!” Smitty sighed, “No. You said no, you wouldn’t tell her what was happening, not no there was nothing happening.” Hirschberg frowned, and opened his mouth to respond… Then quickly realized Smitty’s point, shrugged, took a puff from his cigarette, and sighed, “Guess I did…” As the boys marched on, Donny spotted something poking through Smitty’s jacket. “Whatcha got there, kid?” “A book.” “Aw, yeah? What kinda book?” Donny smirked at Omar and Hirschberg, and nudged Smitty. Smitty pulled it out of his jacket. The cover read “Le Petit Prince.” A story born and banned in France. Nevertheless, there it was, in his hands, wishing to find yours. “Ya know Y/n can’t read French, right?” And in that moment, his heart broke into a million pieces. He wasn’t in it for the wager, or even to win your heart. To him, you’d always be like a shining star, across the universe. He’d always hope to see you, but he’d never be close enough. He loved you like a friend could, from the moment he figured that out. He knew love was much like war, not something to be toyed with or bet on. It was far beyond his hands. He loved you, but not in the way you deserved, so he stepped down… He’d confided that to Omar, still not knowing the truth. And Omar had listened with a sigh, knowing you loved Smitty, like you loved all the other basterds. As brothers. But Smitty was, well, the youngest, and so you thought of him as a sort of baby brother. So Omar helped Smitty find that book. Did it nearly cost them an arm and a leg (literally)? Yes. Would either of them ever tell you? No. So Omar’s heart sank when he caught that defeated look in Smitty’s eyes, and stepped up. “She’s got a French dictionairy, y'know she’s learnin’. And…it’s the thought that counts, kid. Chin up.” Smitty smiled a little, and stopped for a moment, as Omar turned back around and kept marching with the others.  Smitty looked up ahead, knowing you were somewhere out there, and he was more excited than evere to give you that book. After a few moments of silence, something started picking at Donny. “Omar.” “Yeah, sarge?” “How the hell are you still so confident about this?” Hirschberg, Smitty, and Donny then stopped in ther tracks to look at Omar, and wait for an answer. Omar was the only basterd that had never had a steady relationship before. Hell, Smitty might’ve been the youngest, but even he had a high school sweetheart at some point. Hirschberg nodded, “Yeah you ain’t even made your first move yet!” Donny sighed, having made more moves than he’d ever had to before, “Yeah you should do sometin’ quick, Ulmer. You ain’t got any idea what you’re getting yourself into with that girl. It’s fucking impossible.” Omar shrugged, “Well…we did go through boot camp together.” As a matter of fact, that was where it all started. Sneaking out of your bunks in the middle of the night, and roaming around under the stars, jsut talking. “And we spent our fair share of time together.” This was the first time you’d been split up… And he failed to define 'together’. He shrugged, “I know a little more about her than you think.”

Hirschberg crossed his arms and remarked, “That right?” “Yeah… She likes a good show. Action pictures, that sort of thing.” Donny raised his eyebrow with a grin,“Action pictures, huh?” A few hours later, after ambushing a nazi outfit nearby, Donny was swinging with his bat, “Y/n likes action movies, right?” Omar smirked a little, “Give her a real show, Donny. Knock 'em dead.” Donny smirked a little, and walked into the tunnel, already riled up.

And, after some intimidation and interrogation, Aldo called Donny out. And Donny did put his all into it… He really was the closest thing the basterds had to seeing a movie. 

And at the end of it, as Werner lay dead, and his private gave Aldo all the information he needed, Donny looked across the fort to you, with smouldering, smirking eyes, and a sly grin. His eyes fell on you, your basterd grin, and laughing eyes, and moved down, and saw your hand. Your hand, resting on a stone. With Omar’s hand resting on yours. “No…” His eyes grew wide. His mouth dropped open. The other basterds’ eyes followed his, because if something left the Bear Jew speechless, it was something worth looking at. And indeed, it was. Because they all saw what he did. Omar smirking, his raised eyebrow, pulling his arm around your shoulders, and kissing you. What’s more…they’d all just lost a bet. In fact, they’d lost the moment they even put their wagers on the table. Then, a million questions went back and forth. “WHAT?!” being the most common. Followed by “WHEN?!?!?!” and, of course, “HOW!?!?!?!” To which Omar responded, “Learned a lot more than you think in basic training. Y/n’s been by my side since then. Made it official just before we left England.” You laughed a little, “We didn’t know we’d be leaving together.” You didn’t know you were both being sent to the basterds. Hirschberg smirked. “So ya can do somethin’ right, huh Omar” Aldo chuckled a little,  "Say, y/n that how  ya get him to shut his mouth every once in a while? Ya learn that trick in basic training too?“ You blushed a little, "More or less, Aldo.” Omar smiled as he looked at you, the basterds saving their grumbling about their gambling for later, for your sake. Still…Hirschberg slipped up and said “Some fucken bet…” Then, it all made sense to you. A bet…. The other basterds never had a chance to start with. They were betting blind. Omar though, he took a gamble of long odds when he met you. He bet it all on you again that night in the pub. It wasn’t just his chocolate stash, it was his love, his pride, his heart. That was clear to everyone from that moment. But you didn’t understand why. You spoke softly, a way only Omar ever heard you speak before, and you asked him, “Why?” He smiled. “Because I trusted you. I knew my odds, they were always on my side. Like you.” You shut your eyes, feeling like a fool, and giving a small, amused smile. Loving someone during war was always a wager with death, with odds that weren’t in your favor. But loving a basterd… Loving Omar Ulmer… Now that was a chance you were willing to take, from the moment you first laid eyes on him. He didn’t know that. He’d played a game of fortune and heartbreak, once, and won. And he’d be willing to bet it all again, for you, and only you.

Run to you...

For the sweet @strudelcreme​ 🎁

Hope you’ll enjoy the story!

I wanna run to you. I wanna run to you. Won’t you hold me in your arms, And keep me safe from harm? I want to run to you.  But if I come to you, Tell me, will you stay or will you run away?

Whitney Houston - Run to you

Donny was driving towards Maynardville, Tennessee. It was a long way from Boston but well worth the trip. After all, it had been a while since he had seen his comrades since the end of the war.

Lieutenant Raine’s birthday was the perfect occasion to get together. Sergeant Donowitz found himself smiling as he imagined the whole gang having a good meal together, laughing and reminiscing about memorable times in France…

They were all going to have a good time… Well, almost all of them.

At this thought, Donny felt his eyes start to sting. One person was going to be missing. And that person would never come back, taking Donny’s heart with them. And yet, God knows if he didn’t love her more than his own life…

Flashback:

For the Basterds, this day was starting out strong. No sooner had they started their journey to Orleans than they came face to face with a German patrol. Even if they get caught in the crossfire, Aldo Raine’s commando has returned fire quickly. Hiding behind a tree, Donny aimed at the German soldiers’ heads, trying to shoot the enemy down with each shot. But he was not alone in this battle!

“Осторожно, гризли!” (Watch out, grizzly)

Hearing the female voice utter this nickname, Sergeant Donowitz grinned in amusement. (Y/N) was the only one who called him that, and he liked it.

“I’ve got it under control, little stoat!”

The young woman laughed and put a bullet through the eye of a German soldier who was holding Omar at gunpoint.

Of all the Basterds, (Y/N) (L/N) was undoubtedly the best shot. She was a member of the Russian snipers, one of the best units in the world. 

So when she paired up with Whillem, Hitler’s soldiers had no chance of getting away.

What’s more, she was the only woman in the group, which earned her the special attention of the men, especially Donny.

The chemistry between the Boston giant and the Moscow soldier was immediate. As soon as one went somewhere, the other followed immediately. This did not escape the attention of the other members of the group who compared them to a married couple.

Of course, both denied being in love… although Donny was flattered by the idea of being (Y/N’s) “husband”.

After several minutes of shooting, the Basterds won another victory and went off to scalp the corpses of their enemies.

As (Y/N) counted the scalps collected, Donny went to her:

“I see ya still have a keen eye.”

“It’s not for nothing that I’m the best!” joked the young Russian.

“I can see that…”

“Have you finished cooing?" said Hirschberg, making the others laugh.

"Shut up, midget!”

“Take it easy, boys!”

Donny had a mad urge to slap Gerold, but (Y/N’s) hand on his shoulder calmed him down at once.

“Let it go. We’ll mess with Geri later!”

“Any ideas by any chance, doll?”

The young woman’s broad smile spoke volumes.

“Trust me. You won’t regret it!”

Keep reading

US GP in a nutshell

Because I’m on a roll, America and Germany in the 1950s. Sometimes both sides of the conflict are assholes. Sort of a continuation of this comic.

Addition, because I had fun drawing this:

YES

All I want is to see Geoffrey from The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air, Niles from The Nanny, and Alfred from Batman in a room together roasting people and possibly each other

“But I should take that as a compliment, I suppose,”