#locked wine cellar

[trixiegalaxy]

#detective conan #detective conan anime #detective conan series #case closed #Ep 235 - The Locked Wine Cellar #The Locked Wine Cellar #locked wine cellar #episode 235 #anime #anime series #anime tv show #mystery series #japanese tv show

[dtccompendium]

Episode 235: The Locked Wine Cellar

Mouri, for no reason, is at a wine tasting with a guy who is obsessed with himself, and three other losers: Glasses, Pinch-Face, and Long Hair Sommelier. Their host leaves for forty minutes to find his special wine bottle, but then he’s found dead in the wine cellar. His wife faints, but Conan doesn’t care. He’s more concerned about the position of the body. Conan almost kills Takagi by dropping him down a clothesline into a wine rack. This was apparently the method used by the culprit to move the body to the wine cellar. Glasses did it. He did it because the interest rate was too high on money he owed.

Best Quotes:

(Conan’s concern upon finding the body) “Why is he in such an abnormal position?”

#dcmk #detco #detective conan #mouri kogoro #conan edogawa #ran mouri #detective conan episodes #detective conan funny #dtccompendium #episode 235 #Locked Wine Cellar #Wine tasting #Why is the body in such an abnormal position? #Well #Conan #He's DEAD #anime #manga #gosho aoyama #case closed

[katakaluptastrophy]

Once again thinking about how nightmarish the River bubble was...

It lasts for nine months. The ghosts stuck inside it can't quite keep track of time passing, but think it's been around eight weeks.

And of those perceived eight weeks, they don't fully work out what's going on until a 'week' or so before Harrow awakes in the bubble.

These people spent what they perceived as two months of moments of horrible realisation and forgetfulness as Harrow's unconscious mind tried to construct a simulacrum of Canaan House and "enforced certain rules to keep [her] cast on-script".

We know about the "wrong" and "confused parody" NPC versions of the living scions of Canaan House, but what did Harrow's storytelling mean for everyone else? Were they always in control? Did they ever find themselves in places or doing things they didn't remember deciding to do, or distinctly remembered doing before? Imagine having flashbacks of your own awful death while your companions look on incomprehending. Imagine being the only one in the room not claiming to recall that this all happened differently before. That conversation a 'week' before Harrow's arrival must have been so validating and so utterly devastating.

And they still all chose to stay.

#the locked tomb #tlt #tlt meta #abigail pent #harrowhark nonagesimus #I have a mental image of Ortus and the Fifth working out that they're all dead and stuck in the River and just sitting there grimly. #And then Abigail starts taking very excited notes with input from Ortus and Magnus goes and raids the Canaan House wine cellar. #By the time he comes back with drinks Abigail has written at least four pages of equations and has Ortus sticking diagrams up on the wall.

[hofftrans]

ok actually building more on the idea of jigsaw apprentice grocery shopping trips and the various reasons they all suck at it (John doesn't go out bc he's too ill and also way too recognisable)

Amanda - It's not really Amanda's fault that she sucks at getting the groceries, she struggles with chronic nausea as a side effect of her sobriety so she ends up buying lots of small, bland snack foods and forgets to get actual ingredients for big meals. She does eventually start buying more fruit to make smoothies for John as his cancer gets worse and she flips her shit when she catches hoffman stealing it for himself later

Lawrence - Lawrence should be the best at getting the groceries but he forgets that basically only hoffman and himself can cook (and hoffman sticks to simple staple meals.) He buys a lot of fancy preserved foods and fresh ingredients assuming the other apprentices will cook with them only to find Adam eating feta out of the jar with a fork.

Mark - Hoffman is usually the one to actually get the groceries as he does buy a decent amount of food and he's an okay cook (he used to have regular family dinners with angelina where he'd cook her comfort foods.) He cooks a lot of pasta bakes and roasts, tends to stick to stodgy, hearty meals. The rest of the stuff he buys is usually microwave ready meals and those big chunky meat soup cans for big boys. One year Amanda buys him one of those super cheap kiss the cook aprons as a joke and he now unironically wears it every time he cooks.

Adam - They let Adam buy the groceries one single time and he ended up bringing home seven bags of frozen potato gems, four litres of mountain dew and a pack of darts. John doesn't talk to him for two weeks.

#look i know this is probably one of the more fandom meme-y things ive posted but things have been Tuff and playing with saw characters like #theyre little ken and barbie dolls is my happy place #john kramer #mark hoffman #amanda young #adam faulkner #laurence gordon #i realise i left the other two later jigsaw apprentices out but thats bc i play favourites im sorry #sawposting #they have a little beer fridge and wine cellar but they keep it locked up in its own room to help out amanda #lawrence has a lovely collection of red wine #mark has some nice whiskeys and then a case of cheap beer #adam has one half drunken vodka cruiser thats been sitting in the back of the mini fridge for weeks #strahm learns about the apron and almost bites through his own fist

[bitbrumal]

CARING FOR SICK MUSES ¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨¨ █ ▌▌▌@aalberich​​.         accepting

‘ i’m here because i care about you. ’ [ for his big brudder ;~; ]

DILUC  something twitches- well, it’s a mass of twitch what happens inside. warbles & warps through the meat of him / slinks through marrow because whatever it is- nameless disgust -has come to call it home. “yeah..?” the rough of his thumb swipes over the mouth of a bottle of wine. it’s sour, as always. they speak of sweet wines, well. that’s not how diluc tells them apart.                  he remembers who he is,        jams the cork back in &             tries not to look like he’s hiding a dirty secret behind the bar. gotta disinfect it or take it home, now- ( oh, no. dreadful. )

“okay.”

thoughtless.

there is only a hollow empty in the concept of kaeya & 'luc. a vacuous core that has consumed the earth that used to keep his feet steady. the notion spiderwebs out in every direction; puppeteers & puppeteered all the many aspects of this horror that is the new truth. nothing can shake it.      nothing can be believed well enough to shake it.               can’t trust he knows what’s what, so.

rather powerful lesson the gods saw fit to teach: trust no-one. not the gods, who forsook his father yet saved the traitorous brother / not the virtue of the virtuous, not the loyalty of the loyal, not the sanctity of good & importance of a light in especially the darkest places. the world diluc strode into that night utterly unmakes the value of all the good fled back to. sunlight is awfully watery in the wake of... no world lead by right over wrong could envelop such monstrous acts- the only way to hold faith in any peace is to be its creator. even if it must come at the cost of someone’s suffering still; does he not forge into the night to kill in the name of safety, then he does not rest at all.

                please don’t teach me again. please don’t teach me again, i have learned. please, please don’t-

    it’s been that way for years now. it’s, ah. hrm. getting kind of exhausting, really. ( a few feet down & one to the right sits that bottle. ) but there’s no changing it.

change requires an introduction to something new, no? something that could counter what has become the known. & what is known is that ... is not kaeya. & that hurts worse than anything. kaeya himself is the only one to speak to of that night; the only shoulder worth crying on, worth being rejected from -- but kaeya can introduce nothing without paranoia branding him a liar,              & enough trust has been shattered between them. unfairly, unduly. marks that have been left on the wrong body & the wrong heart. the wrong self-image, by the look of it.

telling anyone else that kaeya said he’s not one of ours is simply out of the question. & without that lock to inspect, how could anyone help forge a key-?

                       diluc ruined what was kaeya’s life.

       he’ll not ruin what has been rebuilt in the wake of his mistakes, no matter what kaeya may & may not intend to be.

#aalberich #i put this in the before!reconciliation for pain reasons. c: lmao. #ic #rp ✦ diluc #with: aalberich #i have a massive post to make abt WHY & HOW diluc can't move on & for so long.......... but i can't be fucked to use up my hands on it #u: alcoholic kaeya #me: diluc who becomes an alcoholic roughly 8 yrs after that night bc that's how long it takes for him to be whittled down & stop /caring/ #i just realised how unlikely it is for him not to reach for comfort eventually sdjf no matter how tightly wound into maintaining composure #he usually is. #anyway . #inb4 the local vintner is found fitfully asleep in his own puke which happens to also be in his own wine cellar #jfjf lmao good luck with that adelinde. #HE LOCKED HIMSELF IN. BET. #ok ok i'll stop

[rachelcharlenel]

Medium Wine Cellar Los Angeles A mid-sized traditional wine cellar with storage racks and a travertine floor is an example.

#modern wine cabinets #wine coolers locks #home wine cellar #built in wine cooler #glass door wine cellar #built in wine rack

[oveliagirlhaditright]

Angel saving Kate from a hostage situation in one of the Angel tie-in books (before she knew he was a vampire) was a great moment. I enjoyed when these two were friends (and when they eventually became friends again post-Kate finding out he was a vampire, even though that really only lasted five seconds because the actress then left the show). They had a nice relationship.

#though i also get/appreciate a lot of the writing with kate. of course #on one hand she's supposed to be a mirror to angel. thank you passion of the nerd for making me realize that #on the other we needed some drama. and people who aren't in his corner #and actually he needs people to call him out on his bullshit sometimes. like when he locked the wolfram & hart employees in the wine cellar #with darla and dru and let them have them #at first angel's friends are rightly upset with him for this. saying he crossed a line. but then they/the plot forget to be angry about #him for this #and kate's. like. the only hero calling him out on it #back to my comment about angel and kate becoming friends again post-her realizing him being a vampire only lasting five seconds: #at least in the comics in angel after the fall (which is essentially angel season 6) we see kate again and we get that nice moment where #she rescues connor #one of the actual good moments of the comics

[cosmic-walkers]

Writing a fic (in my new valinor series) where Maglor tries to counsel Elwing and Earendil on how to approach Elrond in Valinor, given he does not wish to see any of them (nor maglor), and in the middle of Maglor's counsel session Elwing and Earendil get into a nasty verbal argument and bring up dirt on each other from the past. "You're a bad mother and wife! your father nor great grandfather could even rule you're all soo greedy!" "You're a bad ruler and an awful husband and father you abandoned us! your parents didn't even care about you enough to stay with you."

and maglor knows he should step in but he blinks and it's like suddenly he sees elros and elrond arguing with one another and it's so nostalgic for him so he lets them curse one another out just to feel like the twins are with him again. then things start breaking and they start saying some inappropriate stuff about him, that's when he steps in.

maglor doesn't believe what any of them are saying about one another is true, but sometimes he has to let people argue things out.

#then maglor is like #elwing and earendil arent together but they are both friends with maglor #earendil is actually with maglor #and they wanna make a trio to see elrond again #he doens't hate any of them he's just truamatized tm #and elwing herself is dealing with alcoholism and depression and that worries maglor--she doesn't talk to dior because she hates him #so it's just a mess all around #this is the same fic where maglor is a hermit in the woods and where earnedil is depressed #they are all going thru it #elwing is elros to the core #earnedil is elrond #and like elwing is an elf so the alcohol isn't gonna do shit #but she's also part human so it makes her very tired and slow all the time #when she goes over she goes straight to the wine cellar so maglor locks them #earnedil runs away from his problems #maglor is like before we go to elrond we need to fix our unit #expeditiously #he is also running from his issues too tho all his brothers have it out for him #they star saying inappropriate stuff about maglor like #elwings like 'he probably fakes pleasure when you fuck him because god knows you can't do that rightokay that's enough" #before earendil can respond

[natalievoncatte]

The palm-print panel was cool under Lena’s touch. She pressed her hand to the rectangular plate next to her front door and waited for the brief moment it needed to scan her skin. The door unlocked with a meaty thump and she pushed it open with her other hand, absently checking her phone as she stepped inside. As the system scanned her biometrics, it detected stress and dimmed the lights, automatically turned on the television to an abstract screen saver with cool tones, and began to play an arrangement for a violins to soothe her nerves.

She kicked off her heels and walked barefoot into the kitchen, where she skipped the countertop wine cellar and pulled out the half-empty box of Trader Joe’s vintage that she’d taken a liking to thanks to Kara. She pours herself half a tumbler full as a silent fuck you to her mother and took a swig, then walked out into her living room to sit down in the gloom for a few minutes and think.

Supergirl was sitting on her couch, head flopped back over the back so that her hair fanned out across the white leather. She sat splayed with her knees apart and legs out, arms resting on her thighs. Lena wasn’t sure if she was awake.

As she drew closer, she caught a small gasp. Supergirl had a black eye, and there were scrapes on her cheeks and the backs of her hands, the blood barely crusted. Both her hands and her face were bruised and she had a tiny split in her lip.

Lena placed the wine on the table, nerves jangling when the bottom rattled against the pale marble from the shaking of her hand. Her heart raced as she drew closer. Supergirl had taken off her cape and draped it over the couch. It was none the worse for wear but was covered in scorch marks.

Suoergirl’s broad chest heaved once and she let out a long, pained sigh.

“Hi.”

“Hello, Supergirl.”

She let out a little laugh, wincing. “Do we need be so formal?”

“I don’t have anything else to call you,” Lena said, coolly. “Mind if I ask why you’re in my apartment?”

“You don’t lock the balcony doors. You should.”

Lena sighed and folded her arms. “I said why, not how.”

Supergirl didn’t look at her.

“I just got the snot beaten out of me. Everything hurts.”

“I didn’t think that was possible.”

How was it possible? Curiosity tugged at her, but concern shot through it, making her fidget with her hands. Lena hated fidgeting. It made her look weak, and she could still remember the pain when Lillian cracked the ruler across her knuckles to break the habit.

“Can I have some wine?”

Lena swallowed hard.

“Sure,” she said.

She went to the kitchen and poured. When she returned to the living room, Supergirl was sitting up, hunched forward and leaning on he knees. Lena started a little at the sight. Sitting that way displayed the wide, muscular set of her shoulders and arms, especially her meaty biceps. Her back was a rare sight -she wore a cape, after all- and just as exquisitely muscled.

She was looking at her hands, at the damage to her muscles. Lena offered the glass and she took it. Her fingers were warm when they brushed against Lena’s, strangely soft.

Supergirl took a long pull of wine and smacked her lips, then winced.

“It’s times like this I wish I could get drunk.”

“You can’t?”

“Not on wine and not for very long.”

“Interesting.”

“So I have a problem,” Supergirl said. She was still looking at her hands.

“And that is?”

“I have to call off work tomorrow. These will heal, and I’ll look exactly the same. I don’t get scars anymore. But they’ll be visible for a day or so.”

“I see.”

“But I have to get brunch with someone, and they’ll be able to tell. Concealer won’t do much for this.” She touched her eye, wincing.

“Wait here,” said Lena.

She came back a moment later with some wash clothes soaked in cold water on a tray. Hands still shaking a little as she placed it on the table. Tenderly, she took one of the washcloths and dabbed the back of Supergirl’s hands, cleaning away the grime and dried blood from the abrasions.

Supergirl sighed. “That feels good. Thank you.”

“May I?” said Lena.

Supergirl hesitated, doubt flashing deep within the endless depths of her blue eyes, but she turned to Lena and tilted up her chin. With shaking fingers, Lena cupped Supergirl’s face gently and used a fresh cloth to clean and cool the cut on her lip. Supergirl closed her eyes and sighed.

Lena’s eyes wandered up, to the small mark above her eye.

“You don’t scar. Did you get that on Krypton?”

“Yes. I slipped and fell when I was a little girl. You should have seen me. I bled all over.”

“Must be nice, not getting hurt anymore. Not feeling pain.”

“I still feel it.”

Lena paused.

“I feel every bullet and blow and bomb blast just like anyone would,” said Supergirl. Just because it doesn’t harm me doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt me.”

“I’m sorry. I had no idea.”

“It’s okay,” said Supergirl.

She opened her eyes -eye- and looked at Lena reverently, one pretty blue eye glittering while the other remained bruised shut. She smiled a lopsided, honest smile, looked at Lena in a dreamy, almost adoring way that-

Wait.

“Oh my God,” Lena breathed.

“Hi,” said Kara.

“Oh my God. Oh my God,” Lena whispered. “Oh my God, what happened, how did this happen to you? You’re hurt!”

“I had a tough time with a very determined alien and had to worry about civilians,” said Kara. “It happens.”

Lena’s pulse raced and her breath quickened. Her gaze darted, searching and noticing every detail. She was so beautiful, and she was so Kara.

“Why now?” said Lena. “Why this time?”

“I don’t know.”

Lena bit her lip, and the tiny gesture had a noticeable impact on Kara. Her eyes widened and her gaze fell to Lena’s bottom lip, then flicked back up.

“So your brunch,” said Lena. “That was with me.”

“Yeah. I thought about cancelling but I can’t. I needed to see you now.”

Lena shifted closer on the couch, until they were hip to hip.

“Why?”

“Because I just got punched in the head by an alien with big stupid bone spurs coming out of his fist and I need to see you. I won, by the way. It was really cool. I ripped a fire hydrant out of the ground and hit him with it.”

Lena looked her up and down. Her jaw began to quiver.

“Oh God. Is it worse than it looks? Are you hurt worse than you look, Kara? Are you…”

Kara shook her head, then winced. “No. Not that bad, promise. I just…” she sighed. “I’m tired of going to lay on a sunbed and going back to my empty apartment and spend a sick day napping on the couch.”

Lena let out a slow breath. “So you came to see me.”

“Yuuup,” Kara said, slowly.

Lena shifted awkwardly in her seat. Kara slowly reached over with her now clean hand and curled her fingers around Lena’s chin.

“Lena?” she whispered. “Is this okay?”

“Yes.”

Kara turned and leaned into her, pressing the slightest, lightest kiss to Lena’s lips, not a quick peck but something slow and soft, warm and inviting.

“Ow,” Kara muttered.

“Kara,” Lena whispered.

“I have any idea. Since I can’t make brunch… how about breakfast?”

Lena leaned against her, gently draping her arms around her as they fell back into the soft cushions together.

“Okay.”

#supercorp #supergirl fanfiction #supergirl #supercorp fanfic #lena luthor #kara danvers #kara x lena #karlena #supergirl fanfic #supercorp fluff #tooth rotting fluff #so much fluff #total fluff #fluffalicious #here at Natalie’s fluff depot we have all the fluff you could ever want

[hometoursandotherstuff]

Why didn't this castle I posted so long ago sell? It's basically one of the only homes I've posted that actually looks like a castle inside. 1990 build in Rochester, MI, 5bds, 7ba, $2.2M.

Simulated drawbridge entrance.

It's absolutely fit for royalty, isn't it?

Isn't it stunning?

Beautiful sitting/dining room.

The home office could also be a library. It has a beautiful fireplace and a loft. And, look at the coffered ceiling.

It has a great room with a fireplace.

Lovely kitchen off the great room. You could really put a dining table in there.

Such an opulent mezzanine.

Very large primary with a terrace.

Incredible en-suite.

Check out the trap door in this bedroom.

It leads down to this room. This large bedroom also has a terrace and a fireplace.

Down the castle stairs to the mead hall.

Beautiful bar, stained glass, and fireplace.

There's also a pool room down here.

And, a pretty powder room.

The cars are housed in a garage that has a little village street and starlit sky.

Stairs to the wine cellar.

Has locked cabinets and a tasting table.

This home is done right- it's a very well-designed build.

It's on 6.25 acres and really looks like a European castle.

https://www.zillow.com/homedetails/2009-Victoria-Hl-Rochester-MI-48306/24364811_zpid/

#castles #castle homes #mansions #estates #houses #house tours #home tour

[blueparadis]

╰┈➤ ATLAS✦ DILUC RAGNVINDR.

⟣ ──┈ · · · + synopsis ➢  Wearing a bunny outfit was indeed a good idea to attract customers but little did you know, it would attract the attention of the owner of Dawn Winery.

+

⟣ ──┈ · · · + cw ➣ bar tender!fem!reader x diluc rangnvindr, explicit smut, piv sex, semi-public, unprotected, cunnilingus, s/d dynamics, soft-dom!diluc, mentioned aftercare. 1,4k word count. | blog navigation + koct’23 masterlist. |

“What a pleasant surprise is this” The familiar deep voice puts a cease to your merry humming. You turn around facing none other than the owner of Dawn Winery, Diluc Raghvinder, your master. Has he been waiting here? Alone?  In the dark? 

You try to brush him off by stacking the bottles from the crate one by one, carefully and slowly so as not to break any of them. “I had to get more customers somehow,” your tart reply makes him walk towards the door and press the knob to close it. He is standing right beside the door. If you were to go out of the wine cellar, you have to solely depend on your luck and so far it has not been shining on you lately. 

“I’m not done talking,” He scoops you against his body as his voice echoes in the room. 

“Well, it can wait, can't it, master Diluc? The bar is overflowing with customers by Archon’s grace and I need to be on my way to serve them.”You struggle in his grasp as you speak, trying to get out of his arms that caged you the more you tried to retaliate against his touches. This is not the first time he has been sneaky, actually, he has a history. You have gotten used to it somehow. You would have let him turn the wheel like he usually does but not right now.

“Wait. Wait.” With a low husky voice, a huff in between he speaks again. This time softer, “I— I’m sorry, alright? I shouldn't have snapped at you the other day, when I said you weren't doing your job right enough.” His breath fanned against your ears as he slid his nose all over your upper chest, at the exposed area, and having his arms locked around your stomach was not helping either. 

“Let me go—I've got work to do.” You still protect, try to deflect his soft, slow, and steady touches. It always starts like this but ends up with him sinking his teeth onto your skin, marking you his, reminding you of him wherever you try to go, however far you try to run.

“Don’t,” Diluc muttered, undoing the strings of the first hook. You could feel your boobs relax, chest muscles free of tension and pressure. “You have done enough,” Turning you towards him to face his body, he slipped his fingers along your inner thigh at the lining of your dress playing with it. He must add that the stockings added a great flavor to your dress, not to mention to your alluring aura and how you carried yourself around the elites, guests, regulars, and normal customers but it is a hindrance now. “You have done enough my sweet bunny.” He repeated with a honey-dewed tone before tearing the stockings, running and sliding his hands up and down your thighs. His touches are not gentle anymore. It is rough and intense. 

“Wait— Sir Diluc,” You moan as his tongue travels along the column of your throat followed by his soft lips placing open-mouthed kisses. Diluc does not provide you another chance to talk, to resist rather you are lost in his crimson gaze as he pulls the string at your back undoing most of it, at least to have a good look on your nipples.

“Your nipples are hard.” He exclaims looking at them, insatiably making you push his chest but he is bigger than you, stronger than you. Even if your hands are mobile and free, there is nothing much you can do. It is adorable that you are still resisting. “Tell me bunny, did it turn you on walking around like this among those customers?” He leans towards your face whispering, “Or does the thought of making me hard during work turn you on?” 

Holding both of your palms in one fistful grab he arches his hips against your waist letting you feel his boner. If his hungry gaze did not make you wet while you were serving drinks at the bar, feeling his hard-on sure did. Diluc actually gave you time to answer yet it led to nothing but another disappointment. His patience was running out of time. You were like a rabbit in his trap and he could not just wait to devour you, have his way with you.

“Ya’know it is rude not to answer, especially your master.” He says with a brooding look on his face. His voice is steady, nothing mere of annoyance can be pointed in his way of talking either but the way he keeps his eyes on you tells everything. 

“nei—neither.”

“Sorry. What was that?” Now he is just playing with his food. “Couldn't hear you properly. Come again?” He paused, looking at your hands that rested perfectly on his chest. “Or I should just check it by myself,” Before those words could register in your brain, he swiftly turned you around, pushing you onto the table. 

“Wai-wai-wait-wait” you blabber but it is too late. You could feel his hands over your ass cheeks, caressing roughly and now your red bunny outfit was in tatters. Your face laid hot against the glass of the wooden table as your master crouched down. Taking a good look he exclaimed, “what a pretty little liar.” 

His fingers are now teasing your wet clit, exploring and rubbing them. “What a fat pussy you have,” he says before lapping his tongue from the base to up your buttocks. An elongated groan escaped his mouth along the strain in his trousers growing more and harder to bear. 

“Ahh! Sir Diluc, please . . . more.” A stifling moan finally escaped your lips. Diluc spread apart your pussy lips apart and started to suck and lick alternatively with so much zeal, as if he was given the an opportunity to taste the finest wine in Mondsndat. 

The squelching and sucking noises were getting louder and louder while your body was slowly giving in, submitting to his urges. Your mind might be heavy on how unethical it is to have a physical relationship with your boss, but there is no way your body can deny him now. He has become your need, your saviour.

“Sir Diluc . . . Sir . . .Diluc. . . Diluc.” 

There was no response other than the wet noises that Diluc elucidated with his mouth at service. But seeing you all fidgeting and restless, your arms stretching to reach your clit, legs quivering and growing apart further he finally stood up. Unzipping his pants, springing free his cock out his trousers he grabbed your hips. 

“I’m putting it in,” He said but rather delayed it by smearing the cockhead with your juices. A jolt full of shivers ran through your nerves, skin coating with goosebumps before he pushed his cock to the tip in one full strong stroke. He was not joking when he warned you. Another prolonged groan before Diluc started to snap his hips against yours — deep and rough, calculated and hard; each stroke hit your sweet spot with so much precision that you had to cover your mouth from moaning loudly.

With your shame coagulated at the core of your throat, Diluc rasped, “This is my house. My property.”He hovered above you, kissing your shoulders, and said, “Tell me, darling, who exactly do you fear ?” And a harsh slap landed on your ass eliciting a shrill moan from you. His strokes are getting more erratic now. “Keep those pretty moans coming. Think you can do that for me?” he coaxed as he pulled you up holding you against his body, close to his chest.

“Yes. ’course. Sir Diluc.” You reply with vision blurred, the red bunny outfit layered at your belly button and the bottom part was in ruins. Diluc could not help but be impressed at your obedience. “Good Girl.” he praises “My good girl.” As he grabs your tits before hammering his cock into your hole again, panting and moaning; singing along with you in the same melody. 

Your nostrils could no longer smell the sweet aroma of the wines, rather the smell of sweat mixed with expensive cologne hit your nostrils. With a few longer and broad strokes he cums, and finishes inside you. His hands let go of the harsh hold on to your body but clasp around you with his cock still inside you, as both of you come down from high.

You finally reciprocate his touches as you hold his palms, and interlace your fingers with his. As you kiss his hand, he murmurs, “Didn't know scolding you would make you wear a bunny outfit.”

You tilted your face to see him. With a smirk you reply,“didn’t know wearing red would do the trick.” with a wink.

#genshin smut #diluc smut #diluc ragnvindr smut #diluc x reader #diluc x you #diluc x y/n #diluc x fem!reader #diluc ragnvindr x reader #diluc ragnvindr x you #genshin oneshots #genshin impact smut #gi smut #gi x reader #gi x you #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin x y/n #genshin x female reader #genshin x f!reader #smut fanfiction #smut fic #cw exhibitionism #fanfictions #fanfics #genshin impact fanfics #gi fanfiction #genshin fanfic #smut #smut drabble #drabbles

[trixiegalaxy]

#detective conan #detective conan anime #detective conan series #case closed #Ep 235 - The Locked Wine Cellar #The Locked Wine Cellar #locked wine cellar #episode 235 #anime #anime series #anime tv show #mystery series #japanese tv show

[inky-duchess]

Fantasy Guide to A Great House (19th-20th Century) - Anatomy of the House

When we think of the Victorians, the grand old Gilded Age or the Edwardians, we all think of those big mansions and manors where some of our favourite stories take place. But what did a great house look like?

Layout

All great houses are different and some, being built in different eras, may adhere to different styles. But the layout of certain rooms usually stayed somewhat the same.

The highest floors including the attic were reserved the children's rooms/nursery and the servants quarters.

The next floor would be reserved for bedrooms. On the first/ground floor, there will be the dining room, drawing room, library etc.

The basement/cellar would be where the kitchens and other food related rooms would be. Servants halls and boot rooms may also be down here too along scullery, where sometimes a maid would clean.

Rooms used by Servants

Boot Room: The Boot Room is where the valets, ladies maids, hallboys and sometimes footmen clean off shoes and certain items of clothing.

Kitchen: The Kitchen was usually either in the basement or the first floor of the house, connected to a garden where the house's vegetables were grown.

Butler's Pantry: A butler's pantry was where the serving items are stored. This is where the silver is cleaned, stored and counted. The butler would keep the wine log and other account books here. The butler and footmen would use this room.

Pantry: The Pantry would be connected to the kitchen. It is a room where the kitchens stock (food and beverages) would be kept.

Larder: The larder was cool area in the kitchen or a room connected to it where food is stored. Raw meat was often left here before cooking but pastry, milk, cooked meat, bread and butter can also be stored here.

Servants Hall: The Servant's Hall was where the staff ate their meals and spent their down time. They would write letters, take tea, sew and darn clothes. The servants Hall would usually have a fireplace, a large table for meals, be where the servant's cutlery and plates would be kept and where the bell board hung. (these bells were the way servants where summoned)

Wine Cellar: The wine cellar was where the wine was melt, usually in the basement. Only the butler would be permitted down there and everything would be catalogued by him too.

Butler's/Housekeeper's sitting rooms: In some houses, both the butler and the housekeeper had sitting rooms/offices downstairs. This was were they held meetings with staff, took their tea and dealt with accounts.

Scullery: The scullery was were the cleaning equipment was cleaned and stored. The scullery may even also double as a bedroom for the scullery maid.

Servery: The Servery connected to the dinning room. It was where the wine was left before the butler carried it out to be served. Some of the food would be delivered here to be carried out as well.

Servant's Sleeping Quarters: All servants excepting perhaps the kitchen maid and outside staff slept in the attics. Men and unmarried women would be kept at seperate sides of the house with the interconnecting doors locked and bolted every night by the butler and housekeeper. If the quarters were small, some servants may have to share rooms. Servants' bathrooms and washrooms would also be up there, supplied with hot water from the kitchens.

Rooms used by the Family

Dining room: The dining room was where the family ate their breakfast, lunch and dinner. It was also where the gentlemen took their after dinner drink before joking the ladies in the drawing room.

Drawing room: The Drawing Room was sort of a living/sitting room. It was mainly used in the evenings after dinner where the ladies would take their tea and coffee before being joined by the men. It could also be used for tea by the ladies during the day. The drawing room was seen as more of a women's room but any of the family could use it. The drawing room was a formal room but could also be used for more casual activities.

Library: The library is of course where the books are kept. The family would use this room for writing letters, reading, doing business with tenants and taking tea in the afternoons.

Bedrooms: The bedrooms would take up most of the upper floors. The unmarried women would sleep in one wing with bachelors at the furthest wing away. Married couples often had adjoining rooms with their own bedrooms in each and equipped with a boudoir or a sitting room.

Nursery: Was where the children slept, usually all together until old enough to move into bedrooms. They would be attended to be nannies and nursemaids round the clock.

Study: The study was a sort of home office where family could do paperwork, chill and write letters.

Dressing room: Dressing Rooms where usually attached to bedrooms where the family would be dressed and their clothes would be stored. The valets and ladies maids would have control of the room.

Hall: The hall was where large parties would gather for dancing or music or to be greeted before parties.

Furnishings and Decor

Most of these Great Houses were inherited which means, they came with a lot of other people's crap. Ornaments from anniversaries, paintings bought on holiday, furniture picked out by newly weds, all of it comes with the house. So most of the time everything seems rather cluttered.

As for Servant's Quarters, most of the furnishings may have been donated by the family as gifts. Most servants' halls would have a portrait of the sovereign or sometimes a religious figure to install a sense of morality into them.

#Fantasy Guide to A Great House #19th-20th Century #Anatomy of a great house #writeblr #writing reference #writing advice #writers on tumblr #writing advice writing reference #writing advice writing resources #writing resources writing advice #writing reference writing advice #Writing reference writing resources #Fantasy Guide #nobility #Servants #writing help

[the-modern-typewriter]

if you like, would you do a snippet about the daughter of a vampire hunter who frees a captive vampire from her father?

The vampire looked only a little older than her. Seventeen, maybe. Eighteen. Myna knew that didn't count for much - you couldn't tell a vampire's age just by looking at them, but still.

She was beautiful too, of course, in the way that all vampires in some way were. Her bloody eyes were striking, ethereal things that tracked Myna's every movement into the room. They paused on the keys clutched tightly in Myna's hand and then flicked to her face. The vampire's head tilted.

Myna stopped in front of her, just out of reach.

"Will you attack me if I release you?" Myna asked.

"Would you believe me if I said no?"

It was a good question. Myna wet her lips, nervously, and the vampire's gaze darted to those next.

"No," the vampire said. "I have no desire to linger here, not even to hurt him."

But the vampire did want to hurt her father. That much was obvious, but also understandable. Maybe Myna was making a mistake. Maybe she was under a thrall that was simply masquerading itself as morality, because though desire was more insidious it was easier to resist. Maybe she would only know when the vampire was gone, and she could think clearly, or maybe she would always wonder.

Myna hesitated, shifting her grip on the keys.

"He hurts you."

"He does not like my kind."

"Your kind are monsters."

"And your father's behaviour is monstrous." The vampire shrugged, light and almost careless. Almost. She raised a delicate eyebrow. "But you know that or you wouldn't be thinking about doing what you're doing."

Myna gulped.

She'd been raised to believe that vampires were pure predator, unnatural and evil, but the more she had actually seen of them the less she could possibly believe that true. The less she saw of...her the less Myna could believe it.

Her father said that was how vampires operated. They mimicked passion, love, the human things to ensure their own safety.

Myna usually felt like she was faking it too, though.

Most of the other girls at school thought hunting was archaic, barbaric. It also felt an entirely different thing to kill a vampire and to keep one one captive for weeks on end in a converted wine cellar.

Most girls always seemed to know what to say, while Myna felt like her script had got lost somewhere and so she kept reading her cues all wrong.

If faking was the standard for being inhuman, for being evil, then what did that make her?

"How old are you?" It was a silly question, in the grand scheme of absolutely everything.

The vampire blinked. "Twenty three."

It felt ancient. It felt a world away. Twenty three meant life away from her father's house and no more school and the freedom to do whatever she wanted. She knew, though, that it wasn't very long at all. She knew what a human lifespan was supposed to be. She knew how old vampires could get.

"How old are you?" The vampire's tone was strangely soft.

"Sixteen."

"Sixteen," the vampire echoed. A wistful sort of smile curled her lips. "Sweet sixteen girl."

"I'm not sweet."

"No." The vampire said it almost musingly. "You're something much more enticing. More interesting."

Enticing. Interesting.

Myna cleared her throat. She felt heat rise, ridiculous and unbidden to her cheeks, and stepped closer. She was glad she didn't fumble the locks, but her heartbeat still picked up the second the metal hit the floor.

She scurried back swiftly, even as she was aware her swiftness was a snail compared to what the vampire was.

The vampire stood, slowly, even to Myna's human eyes, like she was trying not to scare her.

"Thank you." The vampire seemed a little unsure. She wet her lips in turn, and Myna's gaze darted treacherously to them. "It gets better," she said. "I promise."

Myna looked down, because the words weren't what she'd expected and she didn't know what exactly she'd wanted. "You should go."

When she glanced up again, the vampire stood right in front of her, barely a breath away. Myna's breath caught.

"You could come with me," the vampire said. "Your father will be angry with you for freeing me."

Myna's stomach churned, but she squared her shoulders. "He won't hurt me."

"Tell him I thralled you," the vampire said. She reached her hand up, pressing the pad of her thumb over Myna's bottom lip. "He'll believe it."

"Uhuh."

The vampire smiled; wicked and feral and everything that Myna thought she might be too, if she was only brave enough. The vampire pressed the sweetest of kisses to Myna's lips.

"All a vampire is," the vampire whispered, "is everything human with the volume turned up. Your father doesn't like what is reflected back when he thinks of us. Humans can be awful."

"And me?" Myna managed.

"You," the vampire said, "will be feral when you finally get around to unlocking your own cage. I look forward to it, sweet sixteen."

Then, she was gone.

And Myna could taste power on her tongue.

#vampires #vampire #idk #a thing #writing #story #short story #story snippet #vampire hunter

[writingoddess1125]

It's Done pt. 2

Asshole Mihawk x Femreader

Angst and Saddness

Support me on Ko-Fi ☕️

"She hasn't returned...."

Mihawk grumbled as he sat at his desk- anger radiating off of him like a cloak as he stared down at the paperwork he had been pushing off, instead staring at the manilla folder you had given him the month prior.

Truthfully Mihawk believed you would return, figuring that your senses would return and you'd come back home. Your sensitive heart always weak to him anyway, however the first week he had figured you were just playing hard- the second week he started to drink to help steady his nerves in waiting for you to return.. the third week he had started to drink harder and go into fits of rage demolishing the East wing of his manor.

Now in the fourth week he had emptied his cellar, having laid there in a drunken depression as he waited for you.

The reality that you had truly left setting in his bones....

On the other end, It had been a rather healing month for you. You traveled to a island closer to the East Blue rather then staying in the Grand Line- an island for yourself years ago before you married Mihawk and having a vacation home built that was never used- truth be told you were a wreck the first week.. or two.. thinking you should just go back to Mihawk and deal with his bullshit- However after many nights crying, drinking and belittling yourself you at the third and fourth week you started to clean up the vacation home. Traveling to villages near by to get supplies to decorate the way you wanted and cook meals for yourself again, meeting people along the way who had been kind to you.

It was refreshing.

You'd slowly been putting yourself back together again, sure you still cried at night- yes you did burn every god damn portrait you had of you and Mihawk in that house- including your wedding dress.

But now mentally you were in a better place, a feeling of peace finally settling in your bones-

Tonight was like that. You had made yourself a nice dinner, some tea and was reading a book by the fireplace. The peace being disturbed however by a hard knock on the door- you knew it was him...

Getting up you walk to the front door as HE knocked again. Opening the door you saw Mihawk.

Your face hardened as you saw Mihawk standing there- He looked like shit.. His shirt was dirty with wine stains, his hair a utter mess and his beard far too grown in for his normal looks.

"...Sir Dracule why are you at my door" You said sharply, seeing his eyes flash with a deepened sadness at you referring to him like this.

"(Y/N) I want you to return home- I was wrong for how I've treated you" He said sincerely clutching the divorce papers in his hand.

"I want you back" He said, admitting some level of defeat at wanting you to return- His pride getting pushed aside mildly at this, tossing the manilla envelope to the ground infront of him.

You rolled your eyes at this, finding his words foolish as you glared at him.

"Mihawk you haven't had me in years... how can you miss something you haven't had in such a long time- if ever" You say, trying to be as harsh as possible- His eyes locking onto yours.

"You loved- No love me (Y/N) don't act like that.. You got what you wanted, I'm begging for you back" He said, You feeling anger bubble in your chest.

"You still think this is some sort of power struggle don't you? No this is 20 years of you disrespecting me- of treating me like total shit! There was a time I did love you Mihawk, but everytime I look at you I feel hate- Not just for you but myself!" You yelled angrily.

"How because I loved you I wasn't smart enough to leave you sooner- I gave my youth to you and my heart and you pissed in it- I hate myself for allowing that.. and I'll never allow it again"

His eyes were of that of shock, you could tell he was most likely drunk anyway- Otherwise this level of emotion wouldn't be on his face.

"I'm sorry I treated you badly- I was ignorant and I want to make it up to you-" scoffing at his words you reached next to you angrily and grabbed the one weapon you kept in this house- A revolver.

"Get the hell off my property-" You hissed, you aiming at him as you cocked the gun. Mihawk stared hard at you, seeing the hatred in your eyes as you locked eyes with him.

"I'm not leaving till you come back home with me"

"Never.." You growled, not letting his stubbornness win. However you would be lying if you said you werent shocked by what he did next- Mihawk got on his knees before you, his hands on his knees as he looked up at you.

"I'd rather die as your husband (Y/N)- Please return home... "

He said, staring at your face of shock as you clutched the revolver tightly in your grasp.

He heard the click of what he assumed was you putting the safety back on- as he closed his eyes, relieved youd finally see his sincerity and-

BANG!

Mihawks eyes snap up in shock as he stared at you- You had tears running down your cheeks as you stared down at him. The breath in his lungs frozen as he looked before him- there was a bullet hole in the soft soil at him, he could tell that from your angle it was less then an inch from were his head was bowed.

"Damn you- I damn you Dracule Mihawk! I want nothing to ever do with you again and after today!... after this moment of what little love I had left for you I will not hesitate to cash in that Bounty on your head-"

You hissed, lowering the gun you quickly emptied the chamber before you could change your mind and tossed the bullets before him onto the dirty manilla folder.

"May the Goddess have mercy on you if you ever dare darken my door again with this bullshit!"

Turning back into your home you slammed the door hard and locked it- The former Warlord feeling the wash of adrenaline leave his body as air returned to his lungs and for the first time in years felt his hands shake-

Mihawk head slacked as he sat there- shame washing over his form... he had taken a gamble and lost- worse of all he lost with his life...

This was something he was going to be forced to live with- which was worse then any death.

Tag List-

@hungrhay @boredperson120 @foggyturtleknightangel @phantom-phantom @scaryinkdemon

#x reader #one peice x reader #one piece #one peice live action #mihawk x reader #hawkeye mihawk #one piece mihawk #dracule mihawk #op mihawk #mihawk angst

[growingstories]

Gladiator

Once upon a time in the grand city of Rome, there lived a legendary gladiator by the name of Lucius Maximus. Ren for his unmatched strength, chiseled features, and impeccable fighting skills, Lucius became a celebrated figure in the gladiatorial arena.

Match after match, Lucius emerged victorious, defeating each opponent with a grace and finesse that made the audience gasp in awe. His handsome face anded body captivated the hearts and minds of all witnessed his triumphs. After each match he would be offered a young roman male of female slave to spend the night to take off his edge. Many slaves would line up to be chosen. However, his consistent success began to rile the senators of Rome, as his popularity soared, overshadowing their own illustrious status.

With each passing day, Lucius' popularity grew exponentially, and the stadiums were soon filled to the brim with enthusiastic spectators eager to catch a glimpse of the handsome gladiator. Even his training sessions were visited by spectators. Almost every night he would have spectators sneak into the dungeons to give him food in order to spend the night with him. Word had it that Lucius was really well hung. The senators, consumed by envy, decided they would no longer allow Lucius to revel in his glory.

Under the influence of the jealously fueled senators, the owners of the gladiatorial games devised a treacherous plan to eliminate Lucius. Rather than slaying him publicly, they decided to take him into the house of the owner. Their intentions were sinister, as they planned to subject the gladiator to a life of degradation and humiliation.

Once within the confines of the owner's opulent residence, Lucius' life took an unexpected turn. He was rude to his owner and the respected guests that came to see him. He was also fighting his guards to escape the villa’s cellar. They locked him to chains on the wall and he was enticed with an endless flow of wine, which lulled him into a state of constant inebriation and sleepiness. This relaxed state meant that he was able to give sexual pleasure to the guests in return for money for his owner.

Unfortunately, his once admirably sculpted physique began to suffer, as his defined muscles and renowned six-pack started to hide beneath a layer fat.

One evening, as Lucius languished in his drunken stupor, a compassionate woman and man managed to sneak into the basement where he was held captive. They brought him food, in an attempt to alleviate his suffering and help him regain his strength in return for some secret sexual pleasure. However, as time went on, Lucius only grew fatter under the oppressive regime of the owner.

The owner saw that his price pig was not the gladiator it used to be, still eager to exploit Lucius for his own amusement and financial gain, devised a new plan. He began hosting private sessions with his esteemed guests, where they would feast upon extravagant banquets while Lucius, now little more than a bloated shell of his former self, served as the centerpiece. His once-honed combat skills were replaced by the owner's desire to see just how far his gluttony could be pushed.

Days turned into weeks, as Lucius endured a life of laziness, ceaseless indulgence, and constant overfeeding. The owner reveled in watching the gladiator's gradual deterioration, ensuring an endless flow of wine and piles upon piles of food were constantly brought to his side. Lucius had become a mere plaything for the owner's sadistic pleasure.

To add further misery to Lucius' existence, the owner assigned his private companion, a skilled fighter himself, to undertake the arduous task of teaching the once-great gladiator to fight in his weakened state. This companion reveled in showing off his dominance over Lucius, pushing him further into obesity and degradation. When drunk, the owner even allowed children to fight the gladiator, exploiting his weakened state for the amusement of the guests.

As the years passed, Lucius grew unimaginably fat, barely able to breathe under the tremendous weight that burdened his once-mighty body. Yet, the owner, deriving unending pleasure from his captive's suffering, continued to force-feed him, reveling in the grotesque spectacle Lucius had become.

And so, the tale of Lucius Maximus, the once-handsome gladiator, took a tragic turn as he became a mere pawn in the ulterior motives of the senators and the owner. With each passing day, his spirit grew weaker, his body withered, and his existence became nothing more than a pitiful shadow of his glorious past.

#fictionalweightgain #maleweightgain #maleweightgainstories #weightgain #weightgainstories #fictionalstories #wg fantasy #wg fiction #exjock #aiweightgain