me staring at my calculator app for 45 seconds before i remember i was trying to open my clock app to set an alarm
Agincourt: The English beating the crap out of the French with longbows. Castillon: The French beating the crap out of the English with guns. Hundred Years’ War: One unholy mess. Check out Francis’ handgonne in action here.
So, commissions are open and there’s a special offer for June and July with commissions featuring France, Canada, America, and others. For the price list and samples, go here.
diane forever
For the lovely @strudelcreme , hope you enjoy 💛💛 and I am sorry if it sucks. ❤️ There are no gifs for this boy 🤣
"You have got to be kidding me."
"Right back at ya, shortie."
Gerold looked over to (Y/n), with the deadliest glare he could muster. His relationship with the Basterds poison master was…strained to say the least. They rarely saw eye to eye, which made the current situation quiet an inconvenience for them. The situation in question was that, there was only one sleeping bag left. (Y/n) groaned aloud. Why was it that it was always here stuck in these situations? Was this some sort of godly practical joke? A hand clapped on both of their backs.
"So, you two got stuck with the last one. You gonna share?" Donny asked with a grin. Gerold cursed himself for sharing some information with the Staff Sergeant, and by the shit eating grin on his face, he knew what Donny was trying to say. "Nah, I'd rather sleep on the ground." Gerold immediately answered, earning a chuckle from Donny and an offended look from (Y/n). "Oh come on, Hirschberg. It's only one night, maybe then you'll finally get some-" Donny began, before Hirschberg hit him in the gut with the back of his gun. (Y/n) shot him a confused look. "What the hell was he on about?"
"Nothin', just the whole Donny nonsense."
Gerold walked over to the sleeping bag. It looked good, for being a used one. Comfortable, too. Gerold, however, laid next to it. "You can have it." He said simply. Hirschberg wasn't the type to let anything go, so this surprised (Y/n). Taking small strides, she got into the bag and motioned him to come over. "It's going to be cold tonight, and you need something to cover up." (Y/n) reasoned. Gerold stood silently for a moment. He could already feel the brush of cold against his exposed skin. But the thought of being so close to her was far more terrifying. Nevertheless, he moved into the bag with her, muttering a small thanks in the process. " You really didn't have to." Gerold said. (Y/n) chuckled softly, "Like I hate you too, shortie but I am not gonna let you freeze to death."
Gerold smiled, suppressing a laugh. "You ain't half bad, (L/n)." He commented. "You ain't bad yourself, Hirschberg." A comfortable silence came over. It was then that both (Y/n) and Gerold heard the whoops and the yeahs! of the others. Gerold groaned loudly. "The hell are they hollering about?" (Y/n) asked. Gerold didn't know how to answer her. He wanted to confess and get all the shit off of his chest, but...he was afraid. He heard (Y/n) yawn next to him.
"Whatever, I'm beat. Goodnight, shortie."
"Goodnight, (L/n)"
Once he was sure that (Y/n) was asleep, Gerold pulled a little away, and whispered toward the others. "You trying to get me in trouble?" He seethed. Smithson laughed, along with the others. "We're just trying to help." He answered. Gerold scoffed and turned back. His eyes fell on (Y/n). She looked so peaceful like this.
Maybe one day...one day he will have the guts to confess but...not tonight.
@fandoms-are-my-friends-1321 @jiejie-eonni-onee-sama @empress-writes @jokersqueenofchaos @aurelie34-43 @strudelcreme @struggling-bee @sergeant-donny-donowitz
𝐀𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐂 !!
Brad Pitt for GQ, 2019
the wretched abomination known as the minotaur has discovered some chalk
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
Hey mr musty white ass you look mean.and would bully me .. but I love you sweetie you look sweet 💕
It's only natural for someone of your level to be enamoured with a superior life form.
I need more of this family