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Hi 🌟,

I hope you’re doing well. We’ve raised very little so far to support me and my family during these challenging times due to the conflict in Gaza. We’re still working to reach our goal and would greatly appreciate your help. 🙏

If you can’t donate, could you please share or reblog my pinned post? Your support in spreading the word would mean a lot to us. 💪

Pinned post: https://www.tumblr.com/ahmedharara/757031731268386816/weve-been-able-to-raise-only-120-so-far?source=share

Donation link: https://gofund.me/f751a38a

Thank you so much for your kindness and support! ❤️

!!

Soft, Warm and Snug | Donny Donowitz x gn!reader

Anonymous asked: This is kind of stupid, but can you write something where the reader knits a blanket for Donny Donowitz and he likes it? I need fluff in my life right now lol. Also, I’ve always been made fun of for knitting and I just want someone to appreciate it 😭 -💜

summary: you've always liked knitting, but it's only when the war ends that you're able to actually sit down and knit something for your boyfriend that isn't all patchwork and mismatched colours.

tws: swearing

Finding wool was a pain in the ass if you were honest, now that the war was won and everyone had gone home, you were left looking for scraps of wool with what you could use to get any; little scraps of money, leftover ration stamps, pieces of fabric or material that you no longer needed. But you did manage to get enough, roughly sizing up how big your boyfriend was before you set to work; he didn't question it a lot, Donny knew you liked to knit and back when you were serving as Basterds, he would sometimes pick a little up here and there. Aldo still wore the scarf you made for him. Wicki still wore the gloves you had knitted. Hugo still had the hat that had taken you much longer than it would have before the war. Of course, all of them were mismatched and patchwork, Donny could never find the same colours reliably; but you were grateful for that, as while Hugo would sharpen knives and Donny would chop wood, you always sat near the fire and knitted with broken needles. It kept morale up, and it kept you busy; it kept your mind away from the horrors you would eventually see and had already seen.

Even now, if you had a sleepless night, tortured by the things you had seen and had witnessed others do, you would sit down and you would knit to keep your mind off of it; you got bored with making socks and hats, though, and you decided that you would knit Donny a blanket. Sure, it was still summer and the days were hot and humid and the nights were much the same, it was too hot to use blankets, but you wanted to do something nice for him; it took you ages to gather up enough wool of the same colour, and it took you a good while to knit it, but when you had it finished, you could not have been prouder. It was green, the type of green that reminded you of the stems of daffodils, of the bushes and trees that surrounded the houses near the water and the bridge, of the grass amongst the mountains and the fields where the adders basked in afternoons. You hoped he would like it.

For days, you kept the blanket folded up in the spare bedroom, hidden away amongst yours and Donny's uniforms and the medals and the diaries and just about everything else you had brought back; you kept it beneath his uniform, waiting for the end of the week. When it rolled around, though, you were more than nervous; sitting on the sofa with it on your lap, bouncing your leg and smoking too many cigarettes until he came home, running a hand through his hair and smiling tiredly at you. The only work he could get was at his father's barbershop, and the days were long, but he always managed to smile when he came home to see you.

"Hey, baby," you smiled, waiting for him to sit down before you shifted in your seat and cleared your throat, putting the blanket in his lap. "I, uh... I know it's summer and it's a bit hot for it, but uhm, I made you a blanket."

Unfolding it, Donny laughed as he looked over it, running his hands down the soft and warm wool before turning to you with a grin. "It's fuckin' amazin'!"

You raised your brows, hopeful and optimistic. "Yeah?"

"Yeah!" He chuckled, dropping it in his lap and cradling your face in his hands so that he could kiss you, all excitement and eagerness so obvious that it couldn't be missed.

He loved it. He loved that it reminded him of winter baseball fields, and that it felt like the blanket his father used to put around his shoulders when it was cold, he loved that it was warm as the kitchen on days when his mother cooked, he loved that it was big enough to snuggle into, he loved it. The colour was his favourite thing about it, though; calling his mind back to messing around with his friends in the middle of the night, sneaking out to sit in the park where the green metal bench was, where he had carved his and his friends' initials into it when they were teenagers. He loved it, and he was going to make it known, determined to make it known.

"It's so fuckin' perfect," Donny breathed out, admiring it yet again when he looked down at it on his lap, running his fingers across it time and time again, grinning like he had been given the best news of his life, so gentle when he touched it as if it meant everything in the world to him. "So fuckin' perfect..."

"I'm glad," you laughed softly, daring to rest your hand on his shoulder. "You like the colour, though, right? It took me ages to find and-"

"The colour is fuckin' brilliant," he admitted, daring to steal another kiss. "Really, (y/n), it's amazing."

"I can make you another, if I can get my hands on some more wool," you shrugged.

"Would you, uh..." he scratched the back of his neck as he blushed a little. "Would you be able to make me some socks?"

You nodded, all too eager. "Yeah! Of course!"

You were sick and tired of knitting socks, if you were honest, but the look in those big brown eyes made you fall for it, grinning and stealing another kiss.

if you liked this fic, REBLOG IT - you SHOULD reblog it; spam likers WILL be blocked. as will blogs that refuse to reblog or to give feedback. if you don't wanna reblog, then you'll get blocked; reblogging is the BARE MINIMUM. don't just "like", REBLOG

y'all this is my first post but if i see another fem reader i may cry i fear