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powerfultenderness · 11 months

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You were never a good sleeper, one of those rotisserie chicken types of sleeper. That is, until König. You would fuck, eat, leave.

Then he was forced to take some time off...

((Rated Mature 18+ below cut. Gn!Reader))

"Stay," he pulled you from behind, engulfing you on his giant embrace, before you could reach your shoes.

Though you relax in his arms, you shake your head. "Can't. Work, have to get up early." You say and pat his arm, silently telling him to release you.

His arms tighten around you instead and a growl vibrates through his chest. "Don't lie to me, little one." His voice is low and dark, warm breath fanning across the side of your face and neck.

You shudder at his words, he only ever called you "little one" when he was feeling particularly dominant. Not how the night had been just a few hours ago.

One of his large hands travels from where it was splayed over your stomach just a bit lower, not so subtly fidding with your belt buckle. "I don't work tomorrow. You don't work tomorrow. You stay here, we fuck some more and fuck again in the morning."

He's already undid your belt but you stop him before he can unbutton your pants. You turn around in his arms, and ignore how his hand roughly gropes your ass. "How do you know I don't work tomorrow?" You look up at him (because of course you have to) and narrow your eyes suspiciously at him. "Are you stalking me?"

He has the audacity to mutter a small "no" (in German no less! He knows you have a soft spot for him when he slips into his native language!) He averts his eyes, and probably wishes he was wearing his mask right about now, as you continue to glare at him. His grip on your ass falls and he takes half a step back, letting go of you, and mumbles something else in German. You don't quite catch it, but you don't care.

"Give me one good reason to stay."

His eyes light up and he grins at you. "Sex."

...

Well damn. That's a pretty good reason.

"Fine. But we're talking about how you know my schedule later!"

Though you are quite physically exhausted, it doesn't stop you from tossing and turning in your sleep. It's always worse if you're not in your own bed too. Which is why you are surprised when early morning sunlight softly hitting your face wakes you from an apparently restful slumber. It's only a second later you realize how you didn't move around all night.

König's giant frame is holding you in place, one of his legs tossed over yours and one arm clutching you tightly to his chest. You try to wiggle out of his hold but his weight and grasp on you is too strong.

"No." He grunts in a hoarse morning voice. "Go back to sleep. You finally stopped moving."

You let out a quiet scoffed laugh. "I thought you wanted morning sex?"

You suddenly found yourself on your back, legs spread apart to accommodate the large man hovering over you with an already wild look in his eyes. "Yes."

Well, the revelation that your partner was keeping tabs on you without your consent was a little troubling, but good sex and a good night's sleep was a pretty comparable trade.

#könig x reader #konig x reader #blurb #not edited

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hugs2doie · 23 days

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hi !!! could u do a haech scenario based off round&round? i luv ur stuff sm !!!!!

round&round. — l.d.h

PAIRING. haechan x gn!reader

GENRE. idk cutesy, js haechan being whipped ngl

WC. 491

NINI’S NOTE. haechan??? my ult?? with round&round??? one of my fave nct dongs rver??? u want me so bad anon.. AND I LOVE U TOOO. fid this at 3 am and i dont yhink its proofread… not v proud kf this but i jope u liekk it 💞💞 (turn on light mode for the banner to look prettier 😓)

“smile a bit!” you had told haechan with a big smile of your own, as you were holding his phone up, ready to take a picture with him.

but if only it was so easy for haechan to stand close to you without feeling his heart beating faster than the speed of light.

his pretty brown eyes bore into yours in nervousness after you scolded him, but he nevertheless stood closer to you, and slowly threw up a peace sign and a small smile.

“say cheese!”

and just like that, the picture that he was looking at with the goofiest and biggest grin ever on his hand, was taken.

he wasn’t even looking at himself in the picture, he was looking at you.

you and your stupid smile that got him feeling like he’s a little boy who just got his first ever crush. you who made him feel like he was so close but so far away from you. you who made him scared to make the first move, because you’re just friends, what if you reject him? but also you, who makes him the happiest man with just throwing a glance on his way.

he wasted his time today again. and before he knows it, it’s 2:30 am.

2:30 am.

he’s been tossing and turning under his bed sheets for a while trying to sleep, yet both his heard and brain won’t let him. what is wrong with him? he simply wanted to have a nice night sleep, and not think about his stupid teenage-y boy crush on his friend, those were for kids anyways.

but no matter how hard he tried, thoughts of you just won’t leave him alone.

did he seriously have to be so pathetically in love with you? his friends have called him a loser multiple times ‘cause of this but he just can’t see why. i mean, it’s not like he’ll confess and then boom you’re dating! it’s more complicated than that, a lot more.

he just didn’t want to lose you. a simple confession between friends can ruin the whole friendship.

his overthinking was really eating him up this late at night.

you really were his everything. you were his sun and he was just the earth orbiting, and always wandering around you. he’d seek for you everywhere, but sometimes he’d think if you’d feel the same. i mean you have said a couple of “i love you”s, but those were just in the friendship way, right?

he needs you deeply. it’s like he’s a drug addict and you’re the drug.

at this point he’s surprised you haven’t figured out he likes you. the poor boy stutters and avoids eye contact with you all the time.

but he can’t help but be obvious when it comes to you.

he wasted his time yet again today,

but who knows,

maybe tomorrow he won’t.

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sashi-ya · 7 months

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𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟑 DAY 8: SEX MACHINE Vinsmoke Brothers 𝘹 𝘍! 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Requested by: @shogunfura ➡ Hi hi Sashi 😊 I saw your kinktober Event and you know how much I love the vinsmokes, soooo I neeeed to request something. I was thinking about day 8 sex machine if it's not already taken. So as an extra kink I would say foursome, cause I would like all three of them 🤤 Gender should be female with she/her pronouns please 😊 I hope you feel better these days. I know that you had a hard time and I just want to let you know that I'm rooting for you, even though I'm not that active. I always appreciate the time and effort you put into your fics. Keep up the good work, I love to read your entrys 🙈😊 ➡ thank u so much sweetheart, please enjoy! 💖💖 tw: mdni. usage of a "sex machine". tubes, inflation, suction and filling with liquids (heavily inspired on those echhi comics with tubes and tentacles :P). oral. vag. nipple play. depravity. could be considered dark content, so read it under your own risk. 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

“Prince Ichiji… what- what is this?” “Our new invention, do you like it (Name)?” “I- yes… ngh…”

You were used to have fun with the Germa princes. They don’t treat you like a slave like they do to other women; you could say are one of them. Being the princess of another reign aligned to the Germa 66 one, you are free to visit them as they are to visit you. And those visits include rough, savage, violent sexual encounters. Sometimes together, sometimes with one of the sibling. But all of them based in pure lust and depravity that fill your hollow hearts.

That Sunday afternoon, after getting tea with the guys, they invited to meet their new “toy”.

You should have at least suspected. It should have been clear to you that what were you gonna fid inside that sterile lab looking room was machinery for… pleasure.

A table, similar to a hospital bed, lies in the middle of the room. Around several computers with a variety of tentacle like tubes.

“Would you like to be the first one to try, Princess (Name)?” Vinsmoke Niji asks, placing his hands on your shoulders.

You don’t think much, you have no choice but to cooperate. The one asking is the least comprehensive than the three of them.

“Mh… yes” you murmur, as your royal attire gets already untied by those irreverent hands.

And soon, completely nude, you are invited to sit on the cold surface of that “bed”.

Ichiji Vinsmoke comes closer to you, as he is the one entitled to operate the main computer.

“There… get comfortable for me, ok?” he says, pushing the button ON on a wide keyboard on what looks like the main console of the machine.

You wait in silence, smiling uncomfortably to the two brothers looking at you with their pants already tenting. If they were animals, they be frothing at the mouth. The reflex of your nudity over the metallic bed gives them a beautiful, mirrored image of your already wetting sex.

A few sounds catch your attention, and soon you notice Ichiji holding the first tube in his hands.

“So, the first one should be connected to… your right nipple” he murmurs, as if he was a doctor ready to perform surgery on a patient. Except that you are able to listen, and completely awake for that matter.

The tube instantly attaches to your nipple with negative pressure, imitating the sucking motions of their lips.

Then, with no words but a side smirk, Ichiji connects yet another tube to your other nipple.

You are already trying to stop yourself from squirming, as the sucking intensifies, and it feels absolutely amazing.

“You are liking it already, (Name). Aren’t you?” Yonji asks, coming closer to you by the other side of the bed.

You nod, biting your lips but never taking all of the attention away from Ichiji. He is the one controlling the mysterious sex machine, and you wonder what else will be attached to -or inserted in- your body at any moment.

And indeed, in his hand he takes yet another tube but this time with no attachment by the end of it.

He shows it to you with that smirking that never fades away from his lips. Your already desperate façade reflects on his cherry red glasses.

“Now, we have already played with vibrators. But I believe never with a suction toy, right?” he asks you, pondering something.

“I- no- no. we ne-ngh-ver” you barely answer as the sucking in your nipples become stronger every second it passes, with different patterns that you are mostly sure will be imitated in your sex.

“Good, suction it is then. Don’t worry, though. There will be vibration either way” he says, laughing at Niji who apparently enjoys that last part most than the rest.

An attachment, that reminds you of an oxygen mask, gets fixed into the tube and such tube gets directed towards your sex.

Immediately after, the suction begins. Pumping air can be felt, and your clit feels like exploding in a matter of seconds. This time it is almost impossible for you to rest still.

As you squirm, receiving a pleasure ever taken by your body, you notice Yonji’s desperate erection coming closer to your lips.

You wonder if that’s all, but you are surely wrong. And even if you wish to be sucking his dick right now, your squirming motions aren’t making it easy.

“Ichiji, she won’t stop moving” Yonji grunts, protesting as your lips can’t surround his shaft comfortably as he wishes.

“That’s why you should wait, but if you can’t let me hold her still for you” he says, typing a couple of unknown words on the computer.

You widen your eyes, not knowing exactly what’s about to happen but soon you learn cold metallic straps have trapped you against the bed.

“There, beast. Fuck her mouth” Ichiji says, while your mouth receives the impertinent sex of the youngest of them all.

You aren’t mad as the salty flavour of his precum fills your tongue, but you aren’t definitely comfortable either. The shackles are hurting your wrists and ankles, but pleasure is stronger to notice such pain.

As you gag and tear up from the deep rams of Yonji’s dick against your throat, you feel an explosive climax reaching you. You let it happen, you don’t need to hold back, you really needed relief.

But a single orgasm won’t be enough, and nor you are having a time off after it. In fact, Niji, who is standing by your feet is ready to play with your body too.

“Ichiji, let go one of her feet” he asks, in between your muffled moaning and the sound of your skin slapping against the bed.

The red-haired brother surely turns his eyes white but allows your right leg to be freed. Niji, traps it and takes your toe into his mouth. Who knew the blue demon liked feet that much.

He gets your toe completely dampened and then continues with the rest of the feet, only to take it to his freed sex.

“Move it up and down, bitch” he moans, while you feel the wetness of his sprouting precum on his tip, mixing with his saliva.

And to his grunts, Yonji add his. Filling, with no shame, your mouth of his cum. You choke with it, giving them the imagery of white sticky product running through the commissure of your lips.

“That’s good, bitch” Yonji celebrates, cleaning -smearing- your face off his own cum.

You blink repeatedly, with your head in the clouds and probably unaware of what’s coming for you next.

And it is, indeed, the second brother who’s already crawling on top of the bed. He is not willing to wait, and apparently your foot against his shaft isn’t satisfying him no more.

Ichiji laughs at your reaction when seeing Niji topping you all of a sudden. He pulls the suction cup on your sex, making you mewl. It didn’t hurt, indeed, it felt amazing.

“Look at how inflamed you are… so pretty” Niji laughs, playing with your swollen labia and squirting liquids.

You swallow the left overs of Yonji’s cum, it is hard to do so as it sticks down the walls of your throats. But you don’t mind, you will drink plenty of water after -that if, you survive this-.

The sudden intrusion makes you whine, but it does not surprise you. Niji’s dick has been several times inside you, and this is yet another one of those. However, as you are swollen, a lot more sensitive and needy, the ramming motions of his hips are better than ever.

Ichiji has release your other foot so that your legs are now resting on Niji’s shoulder. But still, you wonder what is his gonna do next.

By the side of your eye, you take a swift look at what he holds in his hands, and it is yet another tube he seems to be preparing.

Several are the minutes of uncontrollable and merciless fucking Niji blesses you with, and several are also the times you come with him and the sucking cups on your nipples still attached to you.

And right after he finishes filling you up, it’s time for the first born to have fun. Him whose king qualities always shine the brightest, moves his brother to the side before kissing your lips with a soft peck.

But don’t let it fool you. He might be more delicate, and maybe even more put together… but the red haired one, is the cruellest of them all.

“See this, (Name)? Do you know what this is?” he asks, showing the tube in his hand. It is different from the rest, it looks to be dripping with some kind of lubrication liquid.

“N- no… wha- what is it?” you ask, this time for real scared.

He smirks, taking off his glasses and flashing his blue irises to you. “Ah… this is my special one. My creation” he scoffs, walking slowly to your feet.

“See… you have just experienced suction and penetration separately. But, now I want you to experience everything and more at the same time”

A couple of shackles are now holding your legs spread apart to almost feeling like breaking your body in half. You understand that in case pleasure gets too high, you won’t be able to even close them as a natural response.

“Now, allow me to insert this… you will feel your womb a little… full” Ichiji says, sticking that cold tube into you.

A soon warm and cold mix of some liquid begins to fill you up; you feel a bulge forming in your lower belly.

“Wh- what is it?” you ask, with widen eyes but still squirming because it feels unexpectedly good.

“It’s a bio liquid I developed, it will enhance your sensations” he informs you, violently pressing down your belly. “Try to hold it…” he jokes, knowing too well it would be almost impossible to do so.

Yet, your walls work hard not to let a single drop scape your womb. And it makes you tremble, as the pressure plays against your G spot like nothing before.

“Ichi-Ichiji… this- is amazing…” you huff. No amount of air is enough.

“I know, right… but what if I add a little bit of this? will you be able to hold it in?” he murmurs, while the tube inside of you begins to vibrate.

You close your eyes. Painfully trying to stop the contents inside of you to come out… this time, losing the battle, dripping down the liquids all over the bed, having yet another orgasm…

“Honey… you are ready for me now” “Fuck her rough, brother!”

taglist: @stephisokay @henrioo @shuzuiikoii @bullbonez @fengxinwifutobecalled @i-started-reading-fanfics-at12 @crimsonlikeshellsing @weebare808 @thestarwasborn @bookandyarndragon @cyberdazetragedy @uzxotic and @kwnblack because come on, vinsmokes are our guilty pleasure 💖🤭

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noforkingclue · 5 months

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The Body in the Library (Sherlock Holmes x reader)

Summary: when you fid a body in the library there's only one person you know to call. Such a shame that the two of you cannot get on.

Author's note: well, why not? A returning hyperfixation is still a hyperfixation.

It was when the mobile rang for the fifth time that John finally lost it. He slammed down his paper and marched over to Sherlock’s mobile. On the first ring, Sherlock had glanced at it and practically threw it across the room. It was only by chance that it happened to land on the spare chair and Sherlock had abruptly left soon after. That hadn’t stopped the mystery caller though.

“Hell-“

“Holmes,” a voice barked down the line, “why the fuck did it take you so long to answer your phone. There’s a body in my flat and I’d thought you’d like to see it before I call the police.”

“Err… a body.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line. Then the person said.

“Who are you?”

“I think I should be asking you that.”

“You picked up a phone that doesn’t belong to you. Did you steal it?”

“Of course not!”

It was at this moment that the front door slammed shut and John heard familiar footsteps running up the stairs. He was going to hang up but the person on the other end of line was describing a very brutal murder and he found himself unable to. When Sherlock flung open the door the two of them stared awkwardly at each other.

“Hello?” the person said again, “are you still there? I mean, there is a dead body in my flat and it’s hard to get blood out of hardwood floors. Well, at least from what I understand.”

“So,” you glanced over at John, “How do you know Sherlock.”

You grinned at him as you filled up the kettle and put it on the boil. You hopped onto your countertop and said,

“Cuppa?”

“You also seemed to be very calm about this.”

You paused for a moment before saying slowly,

“Where is Holmes?”

“Still in your living room.”

“Then he can’t hear us,” you said, “the truth is I’m freaking the fuck out about this. I mean, there’s a body in my flat. How often does that happen?”

“You’ll be surprised.”

“I’m just keeping up appearances in front of Sheer Luck. You know him. You can imagine how insufferably smug he’d be to see me that unsettled.”

John’s lips twitched at the nickname. He folded his arms and you swung your legs back and forth as the two of you waited in agonising silence for the kettle to boil. Eventually you shattered it by saying,

“So, was it Afghanistan or Iraq?”

John looked up at you sharply and you couldn’t help but laugh. You hopped off the counter and put some tea in the strainer and continued,

“Don’t worry, I already know. I not like them.”

“How you know?” John asked, exasperated

The kettle boiled and you poured the water into the two waiting mugs.

“If I was pretentious I would say that it’s the way you stand,” you said, “how you remained standing despite me offering you a seat. Your clothes, old but good quality. Clearly you value practicality over style. Blah, blah, blah. However, I am not like that. You want to know the truth?”

“Yes!”

“I googled you.”

You handed John his mug and at that moment Sherlock burst into your kitchen. You rolled your eyes at him and he took John’s mug from him.

“That’s not for you.” You snapped

Sherlock ignored you and took a sip. You clicked your tongue and handed John your mug. He tried to offer it back but you shook your head.

“So, what do you think of my little problem.” You asked

“Is that what you call it.” Said John

You shrugged and turned your attention back to Sherlock. He remain silent, taking a sip of tea, before saying,

“It’s… curious.”

“High praise,” you said with a smile, “I’m glad you said that. Although it shouldn’t be too hard to solve.”

You grinned at John’s shocked reaction and Sherlock’s raised eyebrow. You turned your back on them as you filled your own mug with water.

“Although if I didn’t know who already done it, it would be a lot harder to solve.” You said

It was at that moment that you heard banging on your front door.

“And that would be the police.”

Sherlock gave you an affronted look and said,

“You called them? Then what was the point of wasting my time with this.”

“I gave you the heads up,” you said with a shrug, “not my fault you chose to ignore my calls. Maybe you could answer the door? I’m sure Anderson will be there and I’m also sure that he’ll be so pleased to see you.”

At your smug look Sherlock turned on his heel and marched towards your front door. Whether it was to get away from you or to rub it in the faces of Scotland Yard that he was here first, you didn’t know. Still, now he was out of your space you could finally relax.

“You two really don’t get on.” Said John

“Does he get on with anyone?”

“I do.”

“You seem to be the exception.”

“And what did you mean, you already knew who did it.”

“Ah that,” you laughed and sat down, “well you see John, I recognise this murder.”

“You… recognise it?”

“Yeah.”

You leant across your table and shifted some books. When you found the one you were looking for you tossed it over to him.

“I’m an author,” you said, “mystery which is part of the reason why we don’t get on.”

“Death is on the Cards,” said John, “yeah, I’ve heard of this.”

“Body found in the library of a mystery author’s home,” you said, “head smashed in with a candlestick. If I’ve seen the similarities then so has Holmes.”

“Still doesn’t explain how you know who did it.”

“Oh that’s easy. The person who committed the murder was the detective who inspected the crime scene.”

#fanfiction #bbc sherlock #reader insert #sherlock holmes #sherlock x reader #sherlock holmes x reader

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petermorwood · 1 year

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I'm curious about the eating pick, how would you compare using it to using a fork?

It's a lot more fiddly - stab not scoop - and having used both a pick and a two-tine fork it surprises me that the three-tine fork with less space for things to fall through (or maybe even something like a modern spork) wasn't an immediate next step, rather than taking more than a century to arrive and then, AFAIK, only for fruit.

Medieval food was mostly eaten with knife-spoon-fingers, and the pick (again AFAIK) was used more like a carving-fork, to hold large pieces in place so they could be cut to spoon- or finger-size, than to convey those pieces to the mouth.

The well-researched "Wolf Hall" series shows Tudor table etiquette, eating with a spoon and with right-hand fingers kept clean by using the napkin worn on left shoulder or forearm.

Earlier table manners were similar; there's plenty of reference to hand-washing, napkins and so on.

IMO “The Private Life of Henry VIII” (1933) is probably to blame for the pop-history notion of “historical” dining involving whole chickens pulled apart with both hands and bones thrown over shoulders or onto the floor.

This link is to the full scene on YouTube, where the dialogue proves that it’s being done partly for comedy, and partly to show how nervous Henry made his court.

People in the Middle Ages didn't cut their food with daggers; yes, they'd have worn baselards or rondels or ballock knives because those were part of everyday costume (including women, there's pictorial evidence for it), but they wouldn't have used them at the dinner-table any more than they'd have used a sword.

I wonder sometimes if those who claim daggers were table cutlery know how big a medieval / Renaissance dagger could be, or how out-of-place it would look at a dinner table.

There's plenty of evidence for picks and small eating-knives as personal possessions. Here’s a 14th-century painting and a modern reconstruction of the thing on the belt.

...and another painting, “The Peasant Dance” by Breughel, showing both a big fighting-knife (Messer) and - worn by the red-hosed dancer in the middle - an eating-knife and maybe pick.

The armed man is also showing off (look at his hat!) that he owns a pewter or maybe even silver spoon...

Eating-knife and pick, collectively called "by-tools", could also be slotted into the scabbard of something bigger, such as that Messer in the Breughel painting as recreated by Tod Cutler...

...or a dagger like these Swiss ones...

...whose scabbard ornamentation with human figures proves how they were worn...

- horizontally (usually across the small of the back) so their decoration was right-way-up for proper admiration.

By-tools could be part of even larger weapons, a sword or Kriegsmesser (war-knife) like this one, which belonged to Holy Roman Emperor Maximilian I:

Besides holding down or picking up food, a pick had other functions for which a knife with edges wouldn’t work as well such as an auger to drill holes in leather, or a fid or marlinspike for splicing rope or laces.

By the mid-1500s, people on the cutting edge (hah!) of fashion started to carry the ornate version of that little eating-knife-and-pick sheath; they had a “dining trousse”, personal table cutlery with its own separate case or scabbard, and a REALLY stylish trousse might even include the latest toy, a fork.

But that was often regarded as a pointless (hah!) affectation, because after all, everyone had fingers...

#arms and armour #food and drink #historical food #historical cutlery

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allzelemonz · 10 months

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Awakening Again: Bill Williamson X Male Reader

Pronouns: None Mentioned, implied masculinity, Reader referred to as ‘man’ in the summary Physical Sex: AMAB implied Rating: G/Fluff Warnings: Incredibly gay and closeted Bill, friends to lovers, kissing, confessions, childhood crush, Bill is a simp Summary: When his childhood crush joins the gang, Bill can’t help but fawn over the man just like he did when they were kids.

He first sees you when you’re talking to Dutch. Your hands are on your gunbelt, a smile is on your face, and you shake Dutch’s hand. Bill is frozen where he stands, the beer bottle in his hand falling when you take your hat off and say something that makes Dutch laugh. You’re here. Of all the places you could be, you’re just a few feet in front of him. And you look so different. He hasn’t seen you since you were teenagers, daydreaming about the army and a million other things. Things Bill would never admit, especially not to you.

He can’t handle the feeling of his heart twisting, so he turns and hurries to the other side of camp where he won’t be able to see you. But you invade his mind again, just like when you were younger. Your eyes look like they have that same twinkle, your hair is that same cut that he always liked, your smile still hits him harder than any bullet, and the new addition of a gun on your hips makes everything worse. He feels like a dumb teenage boy again. The same teenage boy that fell for his oldest friend, that stammered over his words when he was too close or shivered when hands lingered on shoulders or arms.

He fell hard and he thought it was over when he joined the army and you went off on your own, but every last feeling shoots through his heart, mind, and body as Dutch introduces you to the gang. Bill has no idea how this will go. He doesn’t know if he should avoid you or let things go back to how they used to be. But when he catches the look on your face he knows he can’t just run away. You’re staring at him, your lips slightly parted in disbelief, and your blinking a bit erratic. Maybe you’re as nervous as he is.

The gang retreats as Dutch gives you a pat on the shoulder before returning to his tent. Bill remains, watching as your eyes look over him. He knows he’s changed. He’s bigger than the last time you saw each other, hairyer too. Suddenly he feels a little self conscious. He might be ugly to you now, with his extra weight and receding hairline. Now he regrets not wearing his hat today, not wearing that shirt that makes him look buff, not fixing his beard up these past few weeks. You look like heaven compared to him. Everything he imagined when he used to stare at you.

Your hug doesn’t help his senses. Your arms wrap around him and his head spins, arms acting on their own to return your hug. The warmth you bring fills him and his face burns red. You’re holding him, arms strong and comforting. He wants to stay here forever, but all you give him is a minute of bliss before you pull away and smile at him in disbelief.

“Marion Williamson.” You mutter, shaking your head. “You, uh, you look good.”

His heart skips at the sound of his name, his real name, coming from you. He hasn’t heard it in so long, especially not accompanied with your pleasant voice. He registers what you said slowly. You complimented him, you think he looks good. His heart skips.

“Y-Ya look good too.” He hesitates before he says your name and it feels so nice to say again.

Your smile, the bashful way you glance down, makes it hard for him to breathe. You are just what he remembers yet immensely better.

“Didn’t know you were in a gang.” You say, shrugging. “What happened to the army?”

His heart sinks a little. He could never tell you what happened, the men he hurt and the respect he lost. “Didn’t suit me much.”

“That’s a shame.” You sigh. “I remember how excited you were to join up.”

“What, uh, what brought ya here?”

“Oh, I just needed work. Dutch seemed nice, good ideas and all.”

Bill nods, his hands nervously fidgeting at his sides. “Y-ya wanna sit down, have a drink?”

“I’ll leave the drinking to you, but sure, Marion.” You smile. “I’d love to.”

Bill smiles and leads you over to the scout fire where you won’t be bothered with the other members of the gang, grabbing a beer from one of the crates along the way. Sitting with you brings back a lot of memories. In particular, sitting by a fire with his other dumb teenage friends talking about nothing. Sometimes you’d elbow him or pat his back while you talked to the others. Little touches he cherished as his cheeks would heat up behind pubescent stubble.

He tries to think of something to say that isn’t stupid. “I, uh, I been goin’ by Bill these days.”

“Bill?” You test. “I like it, suits you.”

“Ya think so?”

“Sure.” You nod. “Most of the boys called you Williamson anyways.”

Bill chuckles. “When they was bein’ nice.”

You sigh, your eyes flicking over him. “Ya really do look good, Bill.”

His face turns pink beneath his beard and he looks down at the ground to hide it. His finger taps nervously against his bottle at a quarter the speed of his heart.

“Never thought I’d see you again.” You mumble. “But you’re so…”

Bill looks up at you and you look just as lost in your own head as he is. There’s another bottle wasted as he moves closer to you, it falls to the ground completely forgotten. It’s a surge of confidence, an overflow of need, as he holds your face and presses his lips to yours. His heart feels like it might burst when you move against him, returning the kiss. One of your hands holds his against your cheek and the other rests on his knee as you scoot closer.

He’s imagined this a thousand times. Granted, not in a long time. But he remembers all of those assumptions, all of those hopes. Your lips are rougher than he thought they’d be, probably chapped from travel. Your hands hold him with a certain gentleness he’s never felt, a feeling he wants on him all of the time. You taste like something savory, a lingering meal that Bill is happy to experience hours later. But he needs to breathe, he needs to let his brain function for once today, so he breaks the kiss and rests his forehead against yours.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted that, Bill.”

He laughs lightly, a smile stuck on his face as he presses a quick kiss to your lips. “Ya couldn’t a’ done somethin’?”

You hum, your hand squeezing his softly. “I didn’t wanna scare you off.”

“I don’t scare so easy.”

“We both know you do, Bill.” You chuckle.

He turns a little red at that. “Shut up.”

You lean in and kiss him again. Bill sighs into it, letting a hand move into your hair. He thinks he could kiss you forever, until his lips wear away.

#red dead redemption 2 #rdr2 #red dead redemption x reader #bill williamson #bill williamson x reader #bill williamson x male reader #red dead redemption x male reader #x reader #x male reader

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benjhawkins · 7 months

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History asks 10 and 16? 👀

10. Pieces of art ( paintings, sculptures, lithographies, ect.) related to history you like most ( post an image of them)

I already answered this one but I'll throw in another!

I've been following the story of Bélizaire for a while now and I'm very glad to see his portrait has been loaned to The Met.

16. Do you own some historical item? ( coin, clothing, weapons, books, ect) If yes which one is your favourite?

I own quite a bit of historical items! I have a handful of nautical antiques-- a couple nice fids, a belaying pin, and two sea chests and Pentecost is devoted to historical chairs. Our house is like Henry Davis Sleeper was Ballin on a Budget. My favorite are two, our 16thc. aumbrey and this wee bit of WWI trench art Pentecost got me for Valentines Day!

history asks!

#thanks for the ask!#literally 90% of our historical items come from goodwill

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hopeymchope · 6 months

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There is a theory about Yakou Furio being Shuichi’s uncle. Do you think it’s possible?

That's really interesting... I've seen multiple thoeries about "Master Detective Archives" taking place in the future of the Hope's Peak timeline, either decades or a century after DR3. But if we were to instead link Rain Code to V3 — which takes place either FAR later after DR3 orrrrrr — in the the far more likely/plausible scenario IMO — in its own separate universe, then does that line up?

The most basic details about Shuichi's uncle as stated in V3 could fit, sure. We only know that his uncle A) ran his own detective agency and B) usually took on pretty small cases like accusations of infidelity or lost items. That certainly aligns with our boy Yakou.

The larger universe of V3 aligning with the universe of MDA is... a bit trickier. Even knowing that Tsumugi is very likely full of shit about a great many things, it's hard to dodge the whole "Danganronpa is a broadcasted show using real (abducted) people" issue. But hey, maybe that's why we can fid a pic of Monokuma and a display of his famous "evil eye" in Rain Code; those could be references to the show, maybe some leftover advertising. But I have to assume there isn't currently a murderous TV program running in the world of MDA. We also have to assume that Tsumugi was lying that this world embraced Danganronpa because crime and murder are exceedingly rare, etc etc. Crime clearly ISN'T rare in a world where Master Detectives are a big damn deal. Furthermore: Given how young Yakou Furio still is, if he was Shuichi's uncle, then "Danganronpa" couldn't have ended until pretty recently. And if there ever was such a program, it probably wasn't successful with the MASS MARKET crowd, because that seems like something that would definitely be a major pall hanging over ALL OF SOCIETY. Maybe it was underground/dark web shit, but still had a surprisingly large audience or something? Or we could argue that we don't see THAT much of the world outside of Kanai Ward, and Kanai Ward was isolated away from Danganronpa's reach... ?

Yeeeaaah, you can see how this gets trickier the more we try to mesh the worlds together. It's not impossible! But it takes some finessing of the information we have. We have to start assuming Tsumugi was lying about certain things we can neither prove or disprove in any fashion based on V3's available evidence. Which, based on her track record, is definitely believable. But... it gets tougher the more you think about it.

I'd rate this theory as "Not impossible, but... "

#danganronpa #master detective archives: rain code #rain code #mda #master detective archives #drv3 ending #drv3 spoilers #asks #anon #yakou furio #shuichi saihara

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lalaloveschelsea · 9 months

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Carlos you are childish. Learn a few things from Charles about handling pr cause you clearly can’t. Here is what I’m gonna say about this. The accident was in fact a racing accident and both drivers didn’t think it through well enough.

No one was really in the wrong during the race until Carlos started talking shit. No it’s not Oscar’s fault because he is a rookie, you got a lock up, squeezed Oscar and pushed him into a wall all by accident cause of lack of space.

Oscar a rookie, handles the question better than an almost 30 year old man that blames everyone but himself. It’s okay to say you fid wrong cause you got a lock up and it ruined the race for both. Stop blaming a rookie and throwing him under the buss when you did the absolutely most rookie mistake ever. “Too optimistic” is hilarious to me, what do you expect him to do? Back off and let you drive freely or what? It’s called racing and it also mean you own up to your mistakes like the big guy you are.

I’m literally so disappointed with his reply to the accident because it really wasn’t caused by Oscar driving.

Also Carlos babe you were acting like Pierre was so childish by doing what he did to you and now you are doing the exact same to A ROOKIE?!??? Cmon now

#carlos sainz #formula 1 #embarrassing #ew #grown ass man acting like a literal child #wtffffff

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brandwhorestarscream · 1 year

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tfp x tf earthspark au: when the 'cons fid him, while they knew that he was an alternative starscream, they still go caught by surprise with how much diferent physically he is. Plus, there's two seekerlings with him, and the older seeker have his hands,feets and mouth covered with organic blood(i forgot the cybertronian terms),smelling like rusty copper and more than ready to throw hands at megatron.

Megatron's a filthy traitor in his home dimension, but this one is still ruling the decepticons with an iron fist, still dedicated to crushing the autobots into the dirt, and is actually a respectable, competent leader with vast military knowledge and a knack for strategy. He's nothing like the Megatron back home. Starscream isn't exactly eager to ally himself with any Megatron, but this one actually seems to know what he's doing. If he can get energon and a room inside a heavily defended warship where his bitties can be safe, he's gonna take it. Anything he can use to his advantage, he will.

He doesn't trust Megatron on account of his being Megatron, but he hasn't allied himself with the skinbags, and is currently missing his own Starscream. He needs an air commander and Starscream needs protection. It's a mutually beneficial arrangement but they're both prepared with contingencies for if/when it is no longer a favorable relationship for them.

On a lighter note, the twins are exceptionally popular with the vehicons, Breakdown (shut up. Breakdown is not dead ok he is FINE), and even Soundwave. Their presence is good for morale and general performance improves by about 7% 😊

#cross dimensional shenanigans

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boltvolta · 4 months

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The War Rectangle.

It's completely troubling to me that people talk about how phones and the rest of the small, handheld, general-purpose computers we have now are such damaging acids to society's fabric. "They're raising a generation of iPad kids." "Liveleak damaged my innocence as a kid." "We don't know the full extent of the societal damage on-" It goes on and on and all the complaints are valid and need to be discussed, but they miss another, much more pertinant issue that these devices have in them; Your Phone is a dual-use technology, a weapon in every aspect in your life.

What does that term even mean? It's Military Jargon-ese for: 'This item, or thing, is used for civilian purposes, but can also easily be used in, for, or as a weapon of war at the drop of a hat.' Your phone can do this, it can do it so easily you don't even think about the dilemma that way. It's absurd and the absurdity crawled into your life while you were enthralled with being able to take the internet on the go.

You can kill a man with your phone and an FPV drone. Your choice in how he dies, from a dropped grenade or an RPG warhead duct taped to the front, or a million other ways to plant a payload into his body. You can even record a video of his death as your own little trophy to display. You can spot for artillery, interface with GPS-based navigation software and push out corrections to your entire teams tactical map, turn manhunts into trivial pursuits, upload intellegence of almost any kind to wherever it needs to go. They don't even need special phones to do this, they've been using 'Commercial-Off-The-Shelf' hardware since the early 2010's. You already knew that, though.

You can drain a persons life savings from their bank account, all from the park bench they passed you by. There's a million little holes in the systems that let you "manage" the money under your name that isn't even yours, and it only takes serendipity for someone fidding around to find a lucrative crack in the armor. Contactless payment, NFC and payment processors are just as big a vunerability as they are a convience. They don't even have to inconvience you to steal from you. But, You already knew that.

You can track people from their phones, with yours. It's not even hard, you probably haven't even thought about searching for the software to do it. Current Wifi and cellular chipsets can be used to sniff networks and track other end-user devices on them. You can war drive with a flagship smartphone if you need to, and modern laptops are more than capable of doing it now. You can hand off your entire life, digitally recorded, to a stranger without even knowing it, just likeyour money. Apple had to add additional software safeguards to Airtags because people used them to stalk other people by putting them in cars or other objects that people take with them. It's a service that uses regular peoples iPhones to make a gigantic network to ping that Airtags location to a central server somewhere in the bowels of Apple, and them beams it to you, keeping all that data in the meanwhile. You didn't pause to think about it, but you already knew that.

The algorithms people are concerned about, that they're still letting raise their kids, are more than just the content reccomendation they do. You can pattern an entire persons IQ quotient, disposition, disabilites, mental faculties, and politics just off their engagement with a service. Researchers could predict when people with BPD and gambling disorder would relapse or go on a gambling spree with a near 99% efficiency. Facebook openly admitted to experimenting on people to boost engagement with the site, negative content greatly encouraging extended interaction. Countless other sites with countless other controversies and manipulations and yet it still became normal under tired, doomscrolling eyes. Any government with enough arm-twisting, money, or subterfuge can buy, obtain, steal, and then scrutinize your digital identity, and then nudge you in the ways governments want to. It's still basic, baby steps now. Imagine how it'll be in a decades time when you can spool up an AI and feed it information about the algorithms your children use, in real time, feed the information it predicts about them back into those algorithms, all the time, to give them the right ideas, at the right moment, in the right tone, and they'll feel like those positions were just something they developed themselves, even if it was their clone who nudged them into an artificial headspace at the behest of a meeting in a government building somewhere. Again, you already knew that, it was just the quiet bit no one wanted to spit out lest they get odd looks.

We'll still use them though. Our progeny will still use them. In a sea of endless information, you have to stay plugged in, lest everything and everyone else pass you in the blink of an eye, like an F1 driver making a bad move, and getting thrown to back of the pack. No time to think. There's a weapon raised against you by leviathan hands in your pocket. You bought it and paid for it, your tax payed for the rest of it as well, and its aimed at your loved ones too. And you're running out of time in the epoch before its indispensable in your world, and your kids.

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madamairlock · 1 year

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Shandy + (14) "I dream of you. All I do, is dream of you."

Bonus points if it's Sharon who says this to Andy.

Please & thank you!

As per usual, this turned out a little longer than expected (and angsty). Enjoy!

If he had to choose someone to have a gun aimed at his head, he would’ve refused to answer. Following that, he would’ve chosen Sharon or Provenza with his glasses. He never expected to actually be confronted with his thoughts and the added bonus of a second gun, his own somewhere under a pallet, out of his reach and absolutely useless. He swallowed, his gaze focused entirely on the woman a few yards away. Her legs were spread, shoulder width apart, her hands completely steady on her weapon. He couldn’t clearly make out her eyes from this distance, but he could see the harsh focus on her face.

He tried not to think of any regrets, everything he wanted to tell her. He trusted her with his life and more and it allowed him to focus despite the two guns aimed at him, knowing more were on their way. He let out a slow breath, causing the gun to dig into his head harder. A wince crossed his face before he could stop it and he could’ve sworn he saw her hand briefly tremble.

And yet it was over before he knew it. Their suspect—murderer—was dead on the ground behind him, his gun scattered somewhere, useless too. It took him a moment to realize there had been two gun shots. He refocused on Sharon, but she was lowering her gun and seemed unharmed. His hands moved over his own sides and chest, finding no sign of injury. He started toward her, but stopped with effort and knelt down beside the body, his fingers searching for a pulse.

“He’s gone,” he sighed, groaning softly as he stood back up and rubbed his knee. “Paramedics can call it.” He lingered for a moment and then hurried toward her, crossing the distance in only a few long strides. She had only moved far enough to remove the clip from her gun, carefully holding the separate pieces in her hands. “Are you okay?” He rested the side of his index finger under her chin and gently tilted her face up to meet her eyes.

“Andy.” His name was a quiet exhale, her lips barely moving as she finally looked at him. Unshed tears shined in her eyes and she didn’t bother trying to blink them away.

“Hey, hey…” He started to wrap his arms around her but she stepped back with a slight wave of her hand. “Sharon…”

“No, we need to… to…” She forcefully cleared her throat and wiped at a tear that dared to fall. “We have to finish this, talk to FID.”

As he watched, her mask settled into place. It took her another few moments for the tears to disappear and by the time backup and FID arrived, few would’ve been able to tell something was wrong with her. He reluctantly allowed himself to be pulled from her side, only after Provenza was there with her. He gave his statement and found himself riding back to the PAB with Tao, neither speaking the entire ride or after they settled at their desk to wait for the rest of the team.

He had nearly dozed off when he finally heard her heels. He nearly jumped up and followed right behind her as she headed into her office, pausing to shut the door behind him. He expected her to sit down, but she instead perched on the edge of her desk. He saw her shoulders sag and her hands fold in her lap. He watched from a distance, not wanting to invade despite everything in him telling him to take her into his arms and protect her.

“I dream of you.” Her voice caught him off guard and it took another moment to process what she said. “All I do, is dream of you.” Her head shook slightly and her hands clenched together, knuckles white.

“Sharon?” He took a few quiet steps closer and she didn’t look up.

“Nightmares, I suppose,” she continued. “Something happening to you, but I always wake up and I see you here and you’re okay.” She took a deep breath and he saw her shoulders move with the effort. “But today… today those dreams almost came true.” Her voice grew softer as she spoke, until he had to move even closer just to hear her.

He moved without thinking, kneeling between her legs and covering her trembling hands with his. He squeezed them gently, his arms resting on her thighs. He looked up, surprised to see her already watching him.

“And it seems so silly, so ridiculous.” She shook her head again and he slid a hand up her arm, his thumb rubbing circles along her shoulder. She winced and pulled back with a soft gasp. “Oh.”

“Sharon?” He leaned up to inspect her blazer and found a small section missing to reveal a clotted wound. “Shit, Sharon, why didn’t you say anything?” He quickly stood up and walked around her desk, searching for the first aid kit he knew she kept in a drawer.

“I didn’t notice,” she admitted. She carefully shrugged out of her blazer and was inspecting the hole when he returned, her fingers tracing the edge. “It’s ruined…”

He gently grabbed her elbow and guided her to the chair before he knelt down again, ignoring how much his knees protested. “It’s replaceable,” he murmured, “you’re not. You’ll have to take your shirt off.” She shot him a surprisingly firm look that he ignored. “Unless you’d like me to call the paramedics.”

She sighed and started unbuttoning her shirt, just enough that she could slide it off her shoulder and reveal the full area where the bullet had grazed her. “The shirt’s ruined too…”

He grabbed an alcohol wipe and cleaned his hands before he grabbed a fresh one and focused on her shoulder. “This is gonna hurt,” he warned.

She hissed softly as he started cleaning the wound, relieved it was shallower than it looked. Her hand found its way to his shoulder as he worked, finishing off with a bandaid and a light kiss to her bare shoulder. She watched him silently, a slight hitch to her breathing that he worried was from pain.

“How’s it feel?” He asked as he sat back on his heels to fully look at her.

“I’m fine,” she answered immediately, but her posture and eyes said everything opposite.

“Look at me, Sharon.” He reached for her, one hand settling on her good shoulder and the other gently cupping her face. She obeyed after a moment and he found tears in her eyes again. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? I will be here, by your side. You’re stuck with me, I’m afraid.”

He watched her eyes move back and forth behind her glasses, pupils wide but a thin ring of bright green still visible. “I want to be stuck with you,” she murmured, her hand reaching out to mirror his and rest against his cheek. “That’s why it hurts. Because I’m terrified of something happening to you and losing… you.”

He couldn’t stop the surprise from showing on his face, but it quickly faded into a small smile. “Really?” he managed.

“You’ll notice I haven’t been joining Provenza at the movies or dinner.” A slight smile settled on her face and she leaned forward to lightly press their lips together.

He returned the kiss, just as gentle as she was. “Why don’t I drive you home?” he asked softly when she pulled back, their foreheads still resting together. “We’ll get some ibuprofen and tea in you.”

“You don’t have to do that.” She started to pull back, but he grabbed her hand and laced their fingers together.

“I want to.” He offered her a small grin, relieved to see some of the lines of her face disappear as she relaxed a bit.

She considered him for a few seconds and then nodded. It took him a moment to stand up and then he helped her up, her hand staying in his. She let go only to button her shirt back up. She started to reach for her blazer but sighed and instead draped it over her arm as she took his head agin. He grabbed her purse and resisted the urge to wrap his arm around her waist as they walked out of her office. Her confession rolled around in his head as they walked and he found himself wondering if this was a dream of his own. Only her occasional wince kept him grounded and it held his focus, still driven by a need to keep her safe.

#mcrimes #Kaitlin writes #Major crimes #shandy #Drabble #holy ships x red lips

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