De los europeos nunca espere nada, pero que se la coman doblada los latinos sin patria alguna, apoyando países que los colonizaron, Y QUE LOS COLONIZARIAN si se les chifla el moño, que lastima ese complejo de inferioridad y manera de chuparle las medias que tienen, ojala algún día puedan tener orgullo de su país y su pueblo, levantarse todos los días para izar la bandera mas linda del mundo, sabiendo que uno de los tuyos ayudo e hizo posible la independencia de tres países que nunca le dieron nada, eso es ser grande, eso es ser Argentino.
Bueno, este es mi primer post y no quería perder la oportunidad de aprovechar tan especial ocasión para desearle al presidente de la República Argentina una muerte dolorosa y prematura.
Okay, but some Argentines here trying to say, "Oh, but we're actually really nice or kind, etc.," whenever someone complains or wants to insult us. Well, I’m not nice, kind, and I have no interest in being that way toward anyone who talks shit about my country while being incapable of reading a history book about it yet still wants to criticize. They can all go fuck themselves.
when in 1995 pasarella (argentina nt coach) said that he would "never call up a homosexual player to the national team" and as a form of protest maradona and caniggia started to celebrate their goals in boca juniors like this
@inlovewithhugostiglitz asked: omg first off i love ur hugo fics sm and i just reblogged a load of them, so i was wondering (if u have time) could u write a fic thats hugo x gn!reader and he's being soft w the reader around the basterds (a very rare occurrence) like he's hugging them and like giving them like kisses on the forehead and stuff like that😭 if u do write a fic like this tysm istg
summary: Hugo has a soft spot for one person, and one person only.
tws: swearing, mentions of war/death/etc
support your fanfic writers by reblogging what you read & enjoy
Never straying far from your side, the Basterds did not need to be told that you and Hugo were a couple; the way that he laid his head on your lap when he slept, the way you always covered his body with yours when travelling beneath collapsing bridges as tanks went over, the way that he would scrape some of his rations onto whatever you were using just to make sure that you were fed, how you would pour some of your water into his bottle.
You were indeed a lot closer than anyone else.
But closeness afforded you both a wealth that, when fighting murderous fascists, was not often accessible; closeness afforded you both a comfort, and a fear, that could not be truly appreciated outside of the military.
If the fascists were to catch you, the things that they would do would be worse than death; Hugo knew that all too well, he wasn't stupid, and he feared it every fucking day. He had feared it every day since you had first met him in nineteen twenty three, in Göttingen.
An RAF pilot having just earned your wings, you had charmed Hugo all those years ago, even moving in with him for a little while; but when the bugle sounded, and the drums of war we're beginning to pound, you were dragged away from him.
It was only when he had joined the Basterds that he had found you again; a Nazi had shot your hawker hurricane down, and it had been the Basterds who had found you, who had taken you under their wing. Hugo hadn't let you out of his sight since, and promised to never let you leave his side again; it seemed that you had a similar thought process, too.
At least, you would always have your brief moment in Göttingen.
It was daytime, the Basterds had stopped in an abandoned village in order to scavenge whatever they could; it felt like it had been weeks since you had last eaten anything, and with ammo running low and the temperatures getting colder and colder, you could not be blamed for taking what you could from those who had left it behind.
You would starve, if you didn't.
You would fall under the fire, if you didn't.
You would freeze in foxholes, if you didn't.
You needed to take things, needed to grab what you could and run for the hills. But as always, Hugo was right there with you, never leaving your side.
Every time he passed you something, a kiss on the forehead followed. Every time you paused to talk to one of the men, he would wrap his arms around you tightly, and press his forehead to the back of your shoulder. Every time you went anywhere, his hand was holding yours.
Scared to let you drift away, not wanting you to be lost amongst the chaos of war once again; he had so little precious time with you as it was, he didn't need it to be cut even shorter.
Hugo was not a soft man, not normally; he was cold and quiet, wearing a permanent scowl and death glare, he was abrasive and coarse... but he melted when he was near you. He was always warm, somewhat talkative, rarely scowled and glared, he was soft and gentle - but everyone knew that that behaviour was only ever for you; he was only ever like that because of you, he was never the same with anyone else.
Still, when it was time to take account of what had been taken, you and Hugo managed to find some time to sit together while everyone else was talking; you didn't mind that they could see as you sat between his legs, your back pressed to his chest as you laughed softly when he started to pepper your neck with soft kisses.
"Bist du gut?"
"Ja," you nodded. "Nicht kaputt... du?"
"Bin gut," he agreed softly, letting his hands slowly dip under your shirt. The feeling of your skin on his own was enough to make him grumble as he relaxed. "Ich liebe dich."
"Ich liebe dich auch," you mused with a smile, leaning back into him as you dropped a hand to his knee and gently tapped it. "I could fall asleep right here, won't lie."
Hugo pulled you in a little bit closer, letting you sink down enough so that you could rest the back of your head against his shoulder, letting him lay his arm around you as he kissed your forehead so softly. "You can sleep, Glücksbringer, I'll be here."
"Y'sure?"
"Ja, natürlich - ist kein Problem," he shook his head, adjusting himself so that you would be a little bit more comfortable against him.
You nodded, turning onto your side as you always did, pressing your face against his neck; your breathing was gentle against him, your hand coming to rest on his chest. Dipping between buttons that he soon unfastened, so that you could feel him against your fingertips. Bringing your legs up a little as he kept his arm firmly and steadily around you; his infamous glare and scowl on his face when the others looked over.
They would be more than wise to not even attempt to disturb you. Very, very wise. As although Hugo did love the Basterds, although he did look upon them as his family, he would never hesitate to bark and growl if they got too close to you; if they tried to take you away from him. Never again, Hugo vowed it to himself, he would never allow you to be taken away from him again.
if you enjoyed this fic, REBLOG IT; if you don't wanna reblog, then you'll get blocked; reblogging is the BARE MINIMUM level of support. do not interact if you won't reblog.
