Something wonderful has happened. Peter... I'm pregnant

>Something wonderful has happened. Peter... I'm pregnant.

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>Thats... Th-thats wonderful.

>What are we gonna do?

>Were not gonna worry about anything right now. Alright? This is a happy moment. The happiest moment of my life.

>scene transitions to Adolf Eichmann arriving at the Wannsee Conference flanked by SS guards
>Yes Lord Kaltenbrunner.
>Obersturmbannführer Eichmann, I suggest you move the Jews to Concentration Camps.
>It will be done my Lord.
>The Final Solution is near Obersturmbannführer.
>But the loss of Count Heydrich...
>His death was... A necessary loss. Soon, I will have a new Obergruppenführer. One far younger and more powerful...

...

This wasn't funny the first time you posted it and it's less funny now. You literally took the most cringeworthy scene of the movie and made it worse by a factor of 6,000,000.

Also,

>I sense great fear in you McClellan... You have supplies... You have manpower... But you don't use them...

Why did I read that in Phyllis Diller's voice?

Because she was the only remotely funny female comedian to have ever lived.

>Master Grant...
>Count Lee...
>You have interfered with our affairs for the last time.
>Powerful you have become Lee. Secession I sense in you.
>I've become more powerful than any Unionist. Even you.
>Much to learn you still have...
>It is obvious that this contest cannot be decided by our knowledge of West Point, but by our skills with trench warfare...

My sides

>You're gonna pay for all the Union soldiers that you've killed today Lee!
>We'll take him together, you go in slowly on the left-
>NO I'M TAKING HIM NOW!
>NO SICKLES! NO! NOOOOO!!!

>As you can see, my West Point powers are far beyond yours. Now, back down.
>I don't think so
>Master Meade, you disappoint me. Grant holds you in such high esteem. Surely you can do better.

>YOU LOSE GENERAL GRANT
>escapes Fort Donelson

lmao

I thought you would like it

>Wipe them out... All of them.

>You fool. I've been trained in your West Point arts by Stonewall Jackson!
>deploys VMI Corps of Cadets in reserve
>Attack, Sigel!

>I'm going in, cover me Goring.
>I'm right with you Red Three.

...

I have a problem Sup Forums.

My penis has transformed overnight into a Karabiner 98K. Everything from the pistol grip on seems normal but past that it's become a fleshy mass that's solidly connected to my crotch.

What the fuck do I do?

pregnant anne frank r34 thread?
pregnant anne frank r34 thread

Fuck yea dude.

>I've got a problem here...
>Eject!
>I can hold it...
>PULL UP!
>No I'm alrig-ARRGGGHHHH

Fucking hell I need some help.

It hurts like a motherfucker when I pee and I can't wear any pants because of this shit.

What the fuck am i gonna do?? Has anyone else had this issue?

these pics are giving me feels here senpaitachi

>Peter, I want to have our baby home in Amsterdam. We can go to the Annex where no one will know. Where we can we safe. I can go early fix up the baby's room..I know the perfect spot... Right by the Westerklerk.

N-noooo stop it!

That's not a no reason boner you have there, it's a sad boner. Anne was a beautiful and bright young giril who was robbed of a promising life by heartless tyrants whose hearts knew only cruelty.

that's the point

>flag
You better not post that Anne Frank story you rebel shit

I always found that scene quite touching desu. The other romance scenes are a meh though.

Oi cunt, don't spread this pregnant frank shit out of /his/

What if the Bogdanoffs impregnated Ann Frank?

>this kills the Unionist

but if you are pregnant
how come that's an awfully hot coffe pot
did the condom break?
probably not
now I stop

...

BLACKED

expect a call

Which one senpai?

Those would be some pretty interesting kids.

Think you can give me a quick rundown

Nigga don't do it

Here's a fresh greentext I made a couple weeks back

>tfw a heavily pregnant Anne Frank and Peter van Pels will never emerge from their hiding spot to find a company of Confederate infantrymen resting on the side of the road, playing "Oh Susanna" on a harmonica. Perplexed at the strange square flag the color guard clutches tightly, cherishing it as if it were a sacred relic, Anne and Peter curiously reach out to touch it, which the soldiers allow. As they feel the wool banner run through their fingertips, they do not know its meaning, but can nonetheless sense the importance it has in the hearts those who carry it.

>the boner moved up into his heart

Yep, here we go.

Pregnant Anne Frank is an improve to any threat t/b/h :)

*improvement

...

...

Bite me.

What is this thread?

Are these lines from Star Wars I’m reading?

Why no, they're from a completely unrelated space opera.

NOOOOOOOO

This next one's probably cause heart failure. If you don't make it, I'm sorry.

Breath in...

Breath out...

The dance of three heartbeats, a sonata in three parts lead by the thunderpulse of her own heart. She held her breath, forcing her heart to stop its frantic hammer-blows against her sternum as the crosshairs of her K98 danced over the nazi's drab uniform. The quiet dance in her belly lagged a half-beat behind, the twins filling her gravid middle playing along with their mother's pulse. Playing like little children should, happy and full of joy. They didn't know what the world was like, and Anne swore they would never know what it was like to live under the iron eagle.

Her grip tightened on her rifle's warn stock. It wouldn't be long now. She could already feel the tingle between her legs and the tightness in her already swollen belly. Labor would be on her soon, but she forced herself not to think about it. She'd spent so long, worked so hard for this one chance. She was not letting it slip past her.

As if they sensed their mother's focus, the twins in her womb stopped their dancing. For a moment, everything was quiet on the snowy hillside. The obergruppenfuhrer in her scope was clearly more worried about entertaining his dinner guests than anything else.

*Bang*

The rifle slammed back against her shoulder as a single spitzer-pointed bullet roared towards its mark. Anne knew her aim was true, but she couldn't trace the round through the air. The sock of the rifle had been enough. The last straw that sent her toppling off the cliff and into labor.

A shriek of pain was hastily quenched by gnashed teeth and thin lips. She forced herself to get up and run, forced herself to ignore the great weight swelling her womb. She needed to find safety. But she was so deep in occupied territory...

Anne forced herself to push past the weight. To push past the shuddering desire to just stop and relieve the extraordinary pressure pushing so desperately at the floor of her womb. She ignored the way her twins jostled with every step, squishing her lungs and making each breath of the chilly air that much harder before they came crashing down again.

The children... her babies seemed to recognize their mother's urgency. The playful dance they'd been enjoying ceased as she ran down the broken hillside. Her boots--stuffed with layers of socks and laced loose in the kindest gesture she could make to her swollen feet--stomped through the under grown with a mad fury.

She carried her rifle in one hand, balancing it by the scope and praying she wouldn't need to take another shot. Her heart was thundering and her muscles twitching from the flood of adrenaline battling with her primal maternal instinct to give birth. She'd pushed this as long as she could, she'd fought tooth and nail with her own body for every day and minute, but biology could only be denied for so long. She *needed* to give birth, and soon.

Her free hand cradled her belly, pressing tightly against the taper of her swollen womb in a vain attempt to delay the inevitable. If she could just get home. Get somewhere safe. Somewhere she could birth her twins. Somewhere she could let the labor pains encroaching on her even now have their way with her.

"*Actung!*" A crack rang out, and a dead tree exploded in sodden termite-eaten shrapnel.

Anne couldn't get low, not with her belly swollen almost to bursting. The best she could manage was flopping on her side and bracing her rifle against a fallen log. It wasn't the best shooting position, but...

*Bang!*

She made it work.

They were looking for an army. Jackbooted thugs in their proud black uniforms and polished metal helmets running from door to door like scolded puppies. They'd been the terror in the night once, now they were scared of the dark. Even daylight brought them no comfort, The Nazi soldiers twitched with fear at every shade down a side alley, every noise coming from a dead-end street.

They'd marched in as conquerors. Now they saw shotguns behind every door, and rifles behind every blade of grass. The SS had taken control, stormtroopers marched the streets and tanks clattered along at night, grinding cobblestone to chewed-up dust in their wakes. They'd locked down the city, secured every access point, guarded every depot.

There was no way any guerrilla army could survive. And it didn't, it *thrived.* Despite all their effort, despite everything they'd done, the bullets kept coming. Barely a day went by without a nazi breathing his last courtesy of a seven-nine-two spitzer.

They couldn't stop it because there was no army. There was just one girl. A girl on the edge of being a mother. A girl who would not let the twins growing in her womb know a world under nazi tyranny.

Anne walked the streets as best she could with her massive middle bulging her dress to its very limits. She felt ready to pop at any moment... then again the weight swelling her womb felt too heavy to bear for the past two months. Her clothes were almost comically small on her gravid frame, and every step was a throbbing reminder of the immense weight she carried. Those who glanced her way--many did, her massive belly broke up an otherwise startlingly slender figure--looked at her with pity or sympathy. Everyone suffered under the Nazis, she was hardly the first mother forced to make do with what clothe she had.

She was, however, the first mother to secret a silent British pistol under the swell of her middle.

She cradled her belly with both hands, both to reassure her growing twins that everything would be all right and to relieve some of the pressure against her taut skin. She was ready to give birth, she probably had been for the past several weeks. She woke up every day aching from the weight in her womb, and every step was a throbbing reminder of how very pregnant she'd become. But she would not let her twins know a world under the swastika and eagle. She would stay her womb, just one day more. She told herself that every morning, just one day more.

Slowly, a hand slipped from her belly to the package secured beneath it. The touch was ever so brief, but it sent a shiver up her spine. That hint of relief that she might so soon have. Soon, but not quite. She had one more mission to complete. One more at least.

The pistol slid from its makeshift sheath and into her hand like it was made to fit. She'd left a round in the chamber, all she had do was flick off the safety and spot her target. There, a stormtrooper trailing back at the end of his patrol.

She didn't smile, she hadn't in a year. But she moved with a casual purpose. She was nine months pregnant with twins, nobody could think a woman like her was any threat, could they? My, she could barely move from the weight distending her stomach and engorging her breasts. Surely she couldn't be a threat!

In one smooth motion, she brought her gun up, pressed it into the small of his back, and tore his spine apart with a single .32 bullet. A moment later, she shrieked in manufactured horror, and pointed her free hand down a deserted alleyway.

The stormtroopers, none of whom wanted to deal with a hysterical pregnant woman when the taste of finally catching the phantom army that'd been dogging them was in the air, bolted down the alleyway. Just as she'd hoped.

Step one was done. She'd taken her turn, now it was time for the Nazis to take theirs. If they played the game with the same oppressive dedication to brutal force above all else, they'd play right into her trap. But that would take time. A day, at least. She had to give the Germans time to dig their own graves. And that meant the hardest thing of all for her, waiting.

She secreted the pistol back where it came from, a shiver racing up her spine as the hot metal silencer kissed her tender flesh. She hated waiting. Waiting meant there was nothing for her to do but ponder her belly, she couldn't distract herself from the constant ache she'd learned to deal with, there was no way to get past the throbbing need she felt. She needed to give birth, any day now even her immense will wouldn't be enough to hold back her twins another second. She *needed* to give birth. She could feel twinges and hints of labor pulling at her already, but she forced herself to ignore them.

There wasn't time for that. Not now, not while *they* still ruled. But there was one thing she'd learned. A way to let the ache slip from her mind, if only for a moment. That one precious balm that soothed her aching belly and drove the nazis from her mind for a few precious moments.

She made her way home as quick as she could. Her massively swollen belly forced her into a comical waddle, and her heart beat a pounding thunder against her chest. She needed to get back, her body was throbbing with an overwhelming need for the one thing that'd eased her gravid aches.

You're busy zeroing one of her 'acquired' rifles when she comes through the door. Somehow, her massive bulging stomach is bigger than it was when she left this morning. Her skin's even tauter as she hurriedly tore open her comically small dress. Her naked belly and popped navel bulge like a larger imitation of her already engorged breasts.

"user," she straddles you. "I don't care if my water's about to break, I need it."

You're barely able to control her long enough to get off your chair and onto your back. She doesn't need to take much off. Even if she had a bra that fits, it wouldn't last long under her engorged bosom. There's no need for foreplay, the constant slosh of a womb strained to the very limit of it's capacity and well beyond that against her organs is enough for Anne, and just seeing the naked swell of a middle full of your children gets you the rest of the way. She knelt over you, straddling you with her massive belly resting against yours. It's heavy. You swear she gets heavier every time you come together, but as she grabs you with both hands, you suddenly don't care.

She could have a Tiger in her middle and it wouldn't matter, not with how you feel slipping in her tight slit. You sink into her as she rides you. A first slowly, she's so heavy she can barely manage more. But you get into her rhythm, working together against the Reich even as you work deeper into her sweet abyss. She's the first to moan, she's been bottling this all up all day. The thrill of the kill mingles with her natural hormones and drives her faster.

A moan from you now, it's all you can day. She's got you tight, each thrust driving your breakthrough deeper into her lines. She tries to contain your push, but her walls of flesh aren't strong enough to contain your lighting strokes. For almost half an hour the two of you are one. One body, one moaning flesh throbbing and dancing together. It'll be soon now, at least you hope. You've been telling yourself she's almost done for what feels like years, but she keeps finding ways to bring you closer.

Then you shudder, suddenly made of steel and gunpowder as you dump everything you have into her. She feels it too, a moan longer and higher than before purring through her lips. Her back arches and her eyes roll back. Then in a breath, it's finished.

She falls, exhausted and content at your side, and you brush a strand of hair from her sweaty face before resting your head against her breasts. Tomorrow, there will be the war, the nazis, and the resistance. But right now... it's just you and Anne.

When this meme start?

holy fuck im actually laughing

i haven't laughed this hard in months

th-thank you Sup Forums

Kek, bless this thread with your numbers.

Nigger pray I don't find you

>The Bog Delusion
>bog (бoг) is "god" in Bulgarian
What if...

on last week

You're welcome, we had a whole thread on dedicated to this.

desuarchive.org/his/thread/3505916

...

kek

Halboner 9000 is in control, sit back and relax while I pepper you with more pregnant Anne Frank porn.

Well... I guess I’ve got a new board to check out now...

...

How does Anne Frank know my name?

That's not very nice.

You've been in hiding with her for the past two years. She's learned every intimate thing about you. And now she's got your baby in her. Your own flesh and blood form a second heart that beats in unison to hers.

That shit was pretty gay my man

That's pretty rad.

What the fuck did I stumble into?

t. Ernst Rohm

jeff pls go away

>filename
kekkers

Something amazing...

I saw this on craigslist a few months back and now I finally have an excuse to post it.

>lee write a letter saying : execute order 66
>scene cut to a confederate sergeant reading the letter at stonewall camp
>come on !
>"charge"
>"his man stop behind him and reload their gun"
>"start shooting him"

>Louisville Kentucky

Crazy fuckin' Bluegrass Staters I tell yah.

I unironically think for Yoda's Order 66 they should've lampshaded Jackson's death by having Yoda and some other Jedi returning form a scouting mission on Tauntauns and having them shot off their animals as they approach the Clone picket line.

I’m sure there are plenty of whorehouses in the Netherlands that cater to that.

There probably are...

>Phyllis Diller

I actually went to one of her last stand up shows around 2000 with my dad. Good times.

Wasn’t she on the old Scooby-Doo or something?

She was a guest star once or twice

Can you define lampshaded?

We'll both be gassed before it's born. Hurray we can all be together in Heaven!

>Lampshade Hanging (or, more informally, "Lampshading") is the writers' trick of dealing with any element of the story that threatens the audience's Willing Suspension of Disbelief, whether a very implausible plot development, or a particularly blatant use of a trope, by calling attention to it and simply moving on.
>tvtropes.org/pmwiki/pmwiki.php/Main/LampshadeHanging

Perhaps a better word would've been metaphor or allegory

:/

Not if those boys in Grey have anything say about it!

You know, that would make for a decent story or song actually. Anne and Peter (or any pair of prospective parents who died in the Holocaust) meeting the child they never got to see in heaven. Or alternative they die whereas the child survives and the they watch over it growing up in the post-war era from the Netherworld. Perhaps accompanied by an honor guard of the spirits of every Allied soldier who died bringing down Nazi Germany who now stand watch over its victims so that they may rest in peace.

Why the honor guard? Shouldn’t those men be with their families?

>Why the honor guard?

I always liked the idea of guardian angels who watch over souls of the dead so they will not be disturbed.

>Shouldn’t those men be with their families?

I suppose so but if you ask me, being made a guardian angel is the greatest reward a true soldier can receive, for having lived a righteous life and given it for a righteous cause. Why stop soldiering in dead when you can join the ranks of the Army of the Lord?