#officer killick

[cillianmesoftlyyy]

What I Want... Pt. 2 | William Killick x fem!reader

summary: Getting caught by your father was not exactly how you thought your night would end... you can think of a better way but fate has its way of interfering whenever it wants.

warnings: smut, age gap, taboo, war, death, losing one's virginity, body image, insecurity, dub con, penetration, unprotected, semi-public.

*I rewrote this fan fiction to be in the 2nd person because I've been so inspired by @queenshelby's style of writing. Let me know if you like this way better or if you prefer the old narration style ("I" or "she").

word count: 3740k

Just Wait Till Next Year- John Maus 🎵

Moon River- Frank Ocean 🎶

A light in your father’s bedroom switched on, illuminating the lace curtains in the window. Officer Killick looked up and cursed beneath his breath, loudly enough to alert you as you rested beside him. 

“Oh no,” you gasped and grabbed your romper from the ground. 

“It’s ok. Put on your clothes and do as I say,” William told you softly and buckled his pants. He found his dinner jacket and draped it over his arm, first removing a cigarette from the breast pocket and lighting up. You scrambled into your romper and combed through your hair with your fingers, trying to settle the messy bird’s nest that your hair had become. William puffed on his cigarette briefly and once satisfied that it looked as if it had been smoked for longer than it actually had, gestured to the fountain behind them. 

“Sit on the edge and put your feet in the water.” You did as you were told, swinging your legs over the side of the fountain and letting them sit in the deep water. The wetness between your legs became cold as you arranged herself on the cool stone.

“You came out here to apologize, we’ve been talking, I’ve been smoking. You’be been in the water this whole time, far away from me. Understand?” William spoke calmly and leaned against one of the trees near the fountain. Not so much as a second later, your father stepped through the screen door. 

“Officer Killick, I hope-” your father stopped, having seen his daughter beside the fountain, “Y/N? I was expecting to find Officer Killick out here, not you. What are you doing in the fountain? Come out of there at once!” 

You could almost see the movement of your father’s mustache flick from side to side as he reprimanded you. 

“Yes, sir.” You swung your legs out of the fountain and stood, trying to hide how shaky they were when you stood still. The cover of darkness hid the muscle spasms that rippled across your body just beneath your skin. 

“What were you doing out here?” Your father questioned you, beckoning with his large, doctorly hands. 

“I was apologizing to Officer Killick. I was… rude at the dinner table and I wanted him to know that I was sorry for speaking to him in that way.” You glanced over your shoulder at the young officer, now standing alert, pretending as if the doctor’s presence had surprised him. William’s blue eyes penetrated the darkness, finding yours in the light and smiled. Everything was going to be ok, they said.

“It’s alright,” he looked at your father and nodded curtly, “no hard feelings. I apologize that I haven’t been the most polite to your daughter, sir. I’m afraid the air force has made me impartial to formalities.” His voice sounded easy and dignified, strong against the anxiety you both felt at their predicament. 

“Not at all, Killick. I’m glad my daughter got an opportunity to speak with you. God knows the war’s been hard on all of us. At least you’ve made up.” 

You were too unnerved to snort or laugh at all. All you could manage to do was smile and nod at your father, validating his oblivious perspective. 

“I’ll go to bed now, goodnight Officer Killick, goodnight Papa.” You kissed your father briskly on the cheek and walked as normally as you could to the screen door. Only when you were inside did your legs give out their strength and you had to sit on the bench beside the door. When you were out of sight, your father spoke to the young man. 

“I apologize for my daughter, Killick. She can get over-excited from time to time. Moving out of London seemed to change her in that regard. I hope she didn’t bother you too much out here.”

“Not at all, sir. I just needed a moment alone and the garden was irresistible. I had just finished a cigarette when she found me out here. No harm done.”  

“Good, good.” You heard your father respond and imagined him nodding as William held his second cigarette between two fingers. 

“I came to speak to you about something important,” your father started to break an uncomfortable silence. 

“Yes, sir?” William cleared his throat and stubbed out his cigarette. More silence fell between the two men, you tried to steady your hands on your knees as you listened. 

“After our discussion at dinner, it is hard to approach this topic again but I received a letter this afternoon. I was going to tell you at dinner but the moment seemed inappropriate. I decided I was going to tell you tomorrow or perhaps the day after, but I found that I could not sleep without informing you.” 

You strained your neck towards the door to hear more clearly. Your father cleared his throat and aligned his weight between his feet. William furrowed his stoic brow and braced himself for bad news. All he could think about was the lingering smell of your skin in his nose as he watched the doctor struggle to convey his news. 

“It is my duty to inform you that you have been awarded the George Cross for your bravery and courage in combat.” 

William was silent as he processed what the doctor was saying. He fought against his instinct to spit and reject the award, a phony piece of medal to distract him from what he had done and witnessed in the war. You stopped yourself from gasping as you heard the news through the door. 

“What about my men who died during those days on the Greek islands? Will they be rewarded for their sacrifice?” William tried not to sneer as he asked. He wished he had a cigarette again. 

“The British men who were with you after you crash landed and gave their lives to the crown will receive this award as well, posthumously. You are the only survivor, as you know, so you are the only one who will receive this award in your lifetime. Will you accept it?” Your father sighed as he finished. William looked down at his feet and bit his lip. What kind of Officer would he be if he accepted an award that celebrated his life, his survival when he couldn’t keep his own men alive? 

“I need to think about it,” William responded, suddenly tired and sore, as he remembered the brunt weight of his survivor’s guilt. 

You took your opportunity to climb the stairs and find your bedroom in the dark hallway. Once inside, you stared at yourself in the mirror of your boudoir. Your right hand traced invisible lines around your body as you looked to see if anything had changed. You’d just lost your virginity to a war hero, the thought sounded preposterous, unreal. You looked the same in all ways physically, but you felt like a heavy weight had been taken off your shoulders, as if your own virginity was a chore of its own. What about you had turned him on? Why had he given into your seduction? If one could even call it seduction… You unzipped the romper for a second time that evening and held it between your forefingers and thumbs. 

A part of you never wanted to wash it, just like a part of you never wanted to see the Officer again. How did adults do this? How were you supposed to act like nothing had happened between you? It would be easier if you never had to see him again in your father’s house. His eyes held every memory and image of your body, something no one had ever seen but him. Even you hadn’t seen the entirety of your own naked body, only he had. However, there was an overwhelming part of you that wanted to run to him and feel as close to him as you had minutes before. Not just to be taken once again by him but to be had and held by him. You wanted to be his. 

Don’t be stupid, you scolded yourself. Tearing your eyes from the mirror, you dressed for bed and felt discomforted by the normalcy of the activity. You’d just experienced something incredible, how could you just put on your pajamas and crawl into bed as if nothing had happened. You felt totally different, mature and ready to be a person with confidence and power like any man. Officer Killick had made you feel powerful, he’d shown you that you weren't a child, limited to discussions of table manners and tea sets. You were on your way to university to be your own person, even a sexual person if you so liked. 

Footsteps on the stairs quieted your thoughts. You tried to sit still beneath your obnoxiously large pink comforter but as the minutes dragged on, you found it harder and harder to ignore your proximity to the man you’d just lost your virginity to. Officer Killick climbed the stairs behind the doctor and nodded his head goodnight as he turned into his room down the hallway. The doctor’s door clicked closed and William could hear the lock slip into place before he closed his own door. William leaned his forehead against his bedroom door and sighed hallowly into the grain. The doctor’s news had overshadowed the preceding events of the night, events that had triggered feelings he thought he was no longer capable of. He knew it was wrong of him to have done what he did. He was nearly seven years older than you and he was your first sexual experience. It was only fair that he was met with memories of war, memories of his failure, a failure everyone else refused to acknowledge. He’d led his men into death, he was the reason they were all dead. He was a bad man. He didn’t deserve the award nor that sweet, spoiled brat of a girl who’d come to him in the garden to apologize. He should be apologizing. He should apologize. 

A soft knock on the other side of his bathroom door startled him. William made no rush to open it, already knowing that you would be in the doorway with your bright, beautiful eyes, ready to seduce him for a second time that night. When he opened the door, however, you were on the other side dressed for bed in your red and white striped pajamas. Your hair was brushed and bore no resemblance to the state it had been in before. 

“Y/N,” William whispered your name like an exhale, relieved in some strange way, to see you standing before him. It was an image of normalcy that he craved, a distraction from the memories that clouded his head to the point that he felt he was trapped in a glass prism, seeing everything through a pane of glass. One look at the young Officer was all you needed to know that he was negatively affected by the news your father had told him. What you thought was great news wasn’t so for William. You balanced on the balls of your feet and swung your arms around William’s neck, nestling your face between his neck and collarbone. At first he was stunned. He leaned back in surprise, taking you with him as he did. Your stomach crushed against his as he regained his balance and realized what you were doing. 

You were hugging him. 

Slowly he returned your embrace, running his hands over your back to hug around your waist. His eyes closed as he ducked his head into the shelf of your shoulder and inhaled deeply. William smelled like the backyard and the sultry musk of English cigarettes. 

“What’s this for?” He whispered against your neck, making the hair there prickle as if you had been struck by lightning. 

“Thank you, Killick,” you mumbled without adding any further explanations. William blinked and furrowed his eyebrows, taking a second to understand what you meant. When he did, he pulled away and set you back down gently. You looked up at the Officer, confused and hurt that he’d broken the embrace so soon. William pinched the bridge of his nose and put one hand on his hip, shifting his dinner jacket to the side. 

“Y/N, what we did was a mistake,” he started, his hand still covering his eyes, “that shouldn’t have been how it happened for you.” 

“What do you mean?” You crossed your arms across your chest, hiding the bareness of your breasts beneath the thin cotton shirt. 

William opened his eyes and shook his head. When he finally met your eyes, his voice sounded distracted and unorganized as if we didn’t know what he was saying himself. 

“I’m not a good man, Y/N.” William cut you off as you started to negate his claim. “No, no you need to listen to me. You only know who I am now. You didn’t see who I was in the war. I- I’ve done things, Y/N. Things you should never know about even if you wanted to know. Your first time shouldn’t have been with me because you deserve better. You deserve a good man. A man that, well, a man that killed others with the hands he touches you with now…” William’s blue eyes looked as if they were glowing as a cat’s does in the dark. You shivered despite the heat and bit your lip. When you could tell that he was done, you pressed a hand against his chest. He looked down dumbly at it as you slid it up his lapel to his cheek, no stubble and scars. As you cupped his cheek he closed his eyes and leaned into it, defenseless. 

“I don’t want to say,” you started, “but would it be enough to tell you that I am truly grateful to have met you and done what we did together?” Your voice was soft and childish as you comforted the man who’d grown to mean so much more to you in so little time. William kept his eyes closed, hiding the swell of tears that pooled behind his eyelids. When he didn’t say anything, you continued. 

“A good man cannot be blamed for what he did when the unspeakable was asked and required of him. Would a bad man have taken me so gently and so tenderly as you did? Would a bad man still be recognized for his bravery after losing his entire squadron in a catastrophe?” You asked genuinely and slowly he opened his eyes, and looked deep into your eyes. 

“You don’t know what a bad man can be,” he responded quietly and your heart broke for the man. You two stared at each other in silence for what felt like forever until you wrapped your arms around his neck again and William instinctively picked you up. Still without saying anything, William set you down on his bed, a uniquely shaped bed that was slightly wider than a twin-sized bed. He sat down beside you and you watched calmly as he removed his jacket and folded it over the arm of the chair near the bed. Next he removed his cufflinks and put them inside a small dish on his nightstand. William caught you staring at them and showed one to you. 

“They were from my father. He gave them to me before I shipped out to the continent,” he twirled the small golden knot between his fingers. “There’s a tiny compass in the middle of the knot, do you see?” He gave it to you so you could look closer at the intricate design. 

“It’s beautiful,” you whispered honestly and he nodded thoughtfully.

“They were my father’s in the Great War. He served in the Royal Air Force. I followed in his footsteps and as far as he was concerned, I lived up to his expectations.” 

“Why didn’t you go back home after the war?” You returned the cufflink and William studied it distractedly. 

“He died,” that was all he offered and you resisted the urge to hold him once again. 

“I’m sorry,” you said instead and looked down at your hands. William reached for one of your hands and intertwined his fingers with yours. He stared out the window, directly opposite of him and breathed deeply. You studied his profile in the light, noticing the freckles that dotted his cheekbones. You fought a primal urge to kiss him again, to devour him completely. Finally, he turned his face to meet your gaze and looked down briefly at your lips. To took that as an invitation and kissed him with a short but slow kiss. When you pulled back, William slid his hand into your hair at the back of your head and curled his fingers towards your scalp. You raised up on your knees and moved him further back against the headboard. Then straddling his stomach as he propped himself up against the headboard, you kissed him again. You took your time and you could feel the Officer relax beneath you as you savored the taste of his mouth, the size and softness of his lips, and the intimacy of his tongue as it slipped into your mouth every once in a while. 

His hands settled on your waist beneath your pajama shirt. Your hands sought out the muscles in his arms beneath his dress shirt, tracing the taught ridges with the pads of your fingers. William leaned you back where you rested on his legs as he unbuttoned his shirt and tossed it to the side. His white undershirt further exposed his muscles and you hid a gasp of admiration when you saw them. William saw your reaction and raised a playful eyebrow. 

“My muscles? That’s what you like? Really? Women.” He rolled his eyes in a jovial manner and pulled you back to his chest. Smiling, you stood on his bed, your feet planted on either side of his legs. He looked up at you with a smirk and leaned back against the headboard. Looking down at him, you slowly unbuttoned your top, starting from the bottom. As your shirt opened, William’s pupils grew in size. The soft flesh of your stomach in the light turned him on, the way your hands handled the pearly white buttons…

“What are you doing?” William whispered with a disbelieving smirk. You didn’t answer as you opened the shirt, exposing your breasts to him in the light. The soft pink buds puckered above him and William ran a hand over his mouth, his eyes fixed on your chest. Seeing his reaction, you ran a hand down your chest to the waistband of your bottoms. William gasped softly when your hands disappeared beneath the striped fabric and played with the soft mound of your cunt. 

“Y/N…” William’s voice was harsh and broken as he watched, unable to look away. You slipped a finger into your own cunt, seeing if you could replicate the feeling that he had made you experience before. Adding a second finger, you started to feel it, and moaned softly. Your head fell back and in your moment of weakness, William caught your other wrist and pulled you back down. Removing your fingers quickly, you held him so you wouldn’t fall off the bed as he laid you down beneath him. He’d abandoned any and all reason as he pulled your hands harshly and fumbled with the latch of his trousers. 

You squirmed beneath him as he clamped a hand over your mouth and withdrew his erection with his other hand. Barely spreading your legs for him, he thrusted his cock inside your cunt without any prep. His pants weren’t even off as he started fucking you deeply with the feverish passion of a teenage boy. His face was inches from yours as he panted, glancing down every so often to see how his cock slid inside you. 

“Get a good look, sweetheart. This is what a bad man looks like,” he whispered darkly against your ear and bashed his hips harshly against your pelvis. You moaned behind his large hand. Your own hands gripped the material of his undershirt, your nails penetrating the fabric and pinching his skin. The pain made him fuck you harder and tousling his hair. The hand that wasn’t clamped on your mouth grabbed the top of the headboard. You stared at each other, your eyes connected with some invisible bond, pulling you closer and closer together. 

“Fuck…” William whispered under his unstable breath. When you moaned loudly, he hushed you with a small smirk, “inside voice, sweetheart.” 

You could feel him inside you, hitting the back of something, but you didn’t know what. Each time he did, you wanted to cry out in pleasure. You moaned his name behind his hand but he could still hear you and smiled in response. 

“I’m almost there,” he whispered, holding his mouth open in a silent moan. The bed creaked quietly around you and you wondered if your father would hear it from his room down the hall. You finished twice before he even finished once, your eyes rolling back into your head. You whimpered from the raw and newfound pleasure, more powerful than any sensation you’d ever felt before, even when you finished earlier in the backyard. His ragged breaths grew slightly louder and somehow his cock felt larger as it felt like you were both about to explode. 

“Fuck, I can’t cum inside you,” he realized suddenly and grunted in frustration. Before he could pull out, you wrapped your arms around his back and shifted his hand from your mouth. 

“Do it,’ you pleased as quietly as you could as you panted. William looked into your eyes. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yes,” you nodded what felt like seconds later, he came inside you. It felt warm and sticky inside, satisfying. When he was done, William wiped your hair from your sweaty forehead and kissed you. You had single-handedly saved him, fixed him, recreated him. He felt like a man again. He felt like a human again. 

Keeping himself inside you, William kissed your neck admired your face with visible pleasure etched into the glimmer of his pale blue eyes. 

“Maybe you’re not such a spoiled brat after all,” William smiled down at you. 

“We’ll see about that…” you whispered breathlessly and pulled him in for a kiss.

[pinguwrites]

Kinktober 2023 — Masterlist

A/N — With October coming up, it's time for filth, so here's a masterlist of Cillian Murphy goodness. The list will be updated as the days of the month pass. I hope you guys enjoy!

Read the warnings before continuing. I do not condone, defend, support, romanticize, or encourage the illegal actions of any of the characters throughout the story, these stories are purely written for entertainment purposes. 18+ only.

WEEK ONE

Day 1. William Killick + dub-con

Day 2. Cillian Murphy + spanking, authority kink

Day 3. Raymond Leon + car sex

Day 4. Neil Lewis + grinding, semi-public

Day 5. Thomas Shelby + overstimulation, bondage

Day 6. Jonathan Crane + impact play

Day 7. Robert Oppenheimer + praise kink, dd/lg

WEEK TWO

Day 8. Thomas Shelby + omegaverse, omega!tommy

Day 9. Robert Fischer + facefucking, office sex

Day 10. William Killick + uniform kink, dirty talk

Day 11. Tom Buckley + body worship, overstimulation

Day 12. Neil Lewis + cockwarming

Day 13. Cillian Murphy + somnophilia, dd/lg

Day 14. Jackson Rippner + CNC, roleplay

WEEK THREE

Day 15. Jonathan Crane + sex pollen

Day 16. William Killick + face riding

Day 17. Jonathan Breech + making a video

Day 18. Raymond Leon + forced proximity, outercourse

Day 19. Thomas Shelby + fingering, hold the moan

Day 20. Darren/Pig + vanilla, riding

Day 21. Robert Fischer + mirror sex, toys

WEEK FOUR

Day 22. Jackson Rippner + choking, anal sex

Day 23. Tom Buckley + vanilla, creampie

Day 24. Jonathan Crane + humiliation, pegging

Day 25. Robert Fischer + wet dream, sleepy sex

Day 26. Neil Lewis + shower sex

Day 27. Raymond Leon + anal sex, brat taming

Day 28. Jonathan Breech + fluffy, semi-public

WEEK FIVE

Day 29. Cillian Murphy + overstimulation, f!receiving oral sex

Day 30. Darren/Pig + mutual masturbation

Day 31. Jackson Rippner + ghostface!reader

[darlingsfandom]

Masterlist: Cillian Murphy part 2

updated: 09/14/24

Key code ;💋 = smut , 🦋 = fluff, ⚠️=dark theme, 🌙=angst, ✨= suggestive !

AU: Cillian!

•AU: Wedding Day 🦋🌙

•AU: Yandare Cillian-ex boyfriends dad

•AU: Mean Daddy Dom!💋

•AU: long day 🦋💋

•AU: Sub Cillian 💋

•AU: Boob obsessed ✨

•AU: He needed you✨🌙

•AU: Boobs part 2 ✨

•AU: Naked Insecurity 🦋🌙

•AU: Mommy kink with boobs 💋

•AU: Ass kink ✨

•AU: Ass…💋

•AU: young co-Star 🦋

•AU: you’re obsessed 💋

Patricia Kitten Braden

• First Time after surgery🦋💋

•Having Her Baby 🦋✨

•She’s your rock 🌙🦋

• Shower Sex 🦋💋

•Mommy 🦋💋

•Happy Birthday 🦋✨

•Having a baby🦋

Thomas Shelby

•Good Service 💋

•Assassin Wife 🦋⚠️

•Hate Fuck 🌙💋

•Head Cannon: Girl Dad! 🦋

•Office Fuck🦋💋

•Pegging Him💋

•Sleepy Sex🦋💋

•Office voyeurism💋

•More than one thing to ride 💋

Lenny Miller

• He’s your Stalker ⚠️

Emmett

• Pussy worship 💋

•Beard Care🦋

•Your savior ⚠️🦋

Robert Fischer

•Coquette Girlfriend 🦋

William Killick

•Family voyeurism 💋🌙

Neil Lewis

• Threesome with Violet 💋

Dr. Crane

•newest power couple 💋⚠️

[italianlegolas]

"For once Killick had no bad news of any kind to report, which probably accounted for his more than usually surly mutter in reply to Jack's greeting; though on reflection he did recall that the Doctor had fallen out of his cot at some time in the middle watch and had been lashed in so tight by Mr. Wantage that he would certainly be late for breakfast.

Breakfast, whose delectable scents were wafting into the great cabin as Jack shaved in the quarter-gallery just at hand, was a good hearty meal to which he often invited one of the officers who had stood the morning watch: but today, in view of the very rough night they had had, and in view of Stephen's cursed snappishness at having been so bitterly constrained - seven double turns and scarcely a breath a minute - he thought they should eat alone."

Blue at The Mizzen, Patrick O'Brian

ok wife

[incorrect-aubreyad-quotes]

Killick: I’m not superstitious, but I am a little 'stitious.

[madame-wilsonn]

🎩I love all of them (a genuinely very good template, omg) but I'm going to go with A, I, O, P, Q for Alfie, please!

🥂FMK: Henry Wilson, William Killick, Tommy Shelby (I think this is the best question to ask Henry lovers, sorry not sorry.)

🎻Alfie Solomons

🎻Henry Wilson

🏰Tell me the vibe of where you live (you don't have to specify where where). Romanticise it as if it were a book.

Merci, chérie!! I hope you like it!! ❤️✨

Affection: How affectionate are they? What do they do to show you they love you? What’s their love language?

He. Is. So. Affectionate. Like I really think he has the whole scary gangster facade but he’s the biggest softie for his girl. He’s not scared to show you he loves you, he’ll never turn down any kind of kisses, hugs or cuddles and I want to believe that he’s the kind to be « absentmindedly affectionate » (I’ll explain lol). By that, I mean that he touches you all the time, not even realizing it sometimes, he’ll always have a hand on the small of your back or around your shoulders, if you come by his office or when he’s reading, he will naturally take your hand and let you sit on his lap, this sort of thing.

Apart from the physical affection, he’ll show how much he loves you by any way he can. He’ll drown you in piles of gifts, jewelry, dresses, whatever your heart desires. He will also participate in any activity with you if you ask. Let’s say you enjoy gardening, he’ll help you put them in the ground or water them if you’re not around. The man is just so in love with you that it’s like…flowing all around him and he kind of showers you with it because it’s too much to handle for one person, he might explode if he doesn’t do that.

In terms of love language, I think I’ve made that pretty clear but I’d say his is physical touch! And if I ranked them, it would go: physical touch, gifts, quality time, acts of service and words of affirmation.

Insecurity: What are they insecure about? What can you do to help? How do they comfort you when you’re insecure?

In the beginning, not much. The only thing he might be insecure of is his lifestyle which he doesn’t think is very suited for you, he doesn’t want you to get hurt or be unhappy because of it so I believe he’ll get slightly insecure at times. However, if it’s later on, when he learns about his cancer and Tommy screws up half of his face, he’d get much more insecure. Primarily because of his illness, he feels like he’s holding you down. You’re healthy and young and he is far from that, there are days where he’s too tired to even get out of bed, days where he can’t find the energy to talk or participate in activities you usually do. To that, you can add the fact that he finds himself hideous and this as well as the cancer makes him feel like you’re staying because you might feel bad about giving up on him, letting him die alone. He wants what’s best for you and he just doesn’t think he’s it.

The thing to do in those moments is to make it clear you don’t stay because you think you have to, you don’t stay for some obligation he might be imposing. The reason you’re staying is because you love him, because you want to, because you’ll always be by his side, for better or worse and it doesn’t matter how he looks or how tired he is. And as I mentioned before, he values words a lot so hearing it coming from you will help him feel better.

He hates to think you could be insecure about anything because you’re absolutely perfect to him but he understands. Everyone feels a bit blue at some point, even him. So what he does is pretty simple: he grabs your hand, makes you sit on his lap and just shushes down the bad thoughts by reminding you how phenomenal you are and yes, it won’t make everything all unicorns and rainbows but it does work pretty well!

Open: How hard is it for them to voice their feelings? How and when do they tell you they love you? Do they let you in easily?

I think that even if he’s great at showing how much he loves you, it’s much harder for him to say it. In my head, I picture him as the kind to be a bit clumsy with his words around you. For example, if he complimented you by saying « you look pretty today », i just see him realize that you may take it the wrong way because « wait…it means you weren’t pretty yesterday…but you were… » and start rambling. But it’s not hard for him because he doesn’t want to or because he doesn’t know how, he’s just much better at showing you than repeat it all day long. Although in important moments or if you need to hear it, he’ll tell you. So really, I think what’s hard for him is that for the first time in a very long time he feels all ridiculous and blushy and all that, it’s just very different from the whole gangster persona he had.

As I said, I think he tells you he loves you when there is a reason because I don’t see him say it all the time, just like that. He values words a lot and he doesn’t want to « overuse » it, he wants you to feel how much meaning it has whenever he says it, even if it’s not every single day. So when he says it, ughhh!! He just looks straight in your eyes, his hands on your cheeks and with his gruff voice: « I love you » and you just melt right on the spot…

I think he doesn’t really you in at the beginning because he’s a smart man so he’s not going to tell you everything about him within the first week you know him. However, once you’re in an established relationship, he lets most of his guards fall, he trusts you with his life and he’s not ashamed of it.

Protective: How protective are they? How do they react when you have/want to protect them?

The answer is so obvious but Alfie is extremely protective of you. You’re literally untouchable and anyone who dares to even upset you will regret it. It’s not really developed in the show but he probably lost everyone (since they don’t mention anyone close to him) so the last thing he wants is to lose you as well and he’ll do whatever he has to do to prevent that from happening. So be ready to never be out of Alfie’s sight some way or another because that man is not letting anything happen to you.

Now when it comes to protect him, he’s going to find it endearing and slightly funny because in his mind you can’t protect him from anything, you shouldn’t have to. He’s the one who makes you safe, not the other way around but he’ll love the way you get whenever you want to protect him from something.

Quarrels: What is it like to have a fight with them? How are they when they’re angry?

Here ♡

Now the FMK:

So funnily enough, I’ve never watched The edge of love. I know the story more or less, I know it’s very sad but I don’t know much else so sorry I’m going to have to kill him because I have less…affection for him? It feels really mean to say that. But that’s great because if I kill him, I don’t have gifs for my Henry fics 😫

Then there’s Tommy, I won’t marry him for sure because 1) he’s already married to my friend and I don’t do that and 2) he would probably drive me so mad I would end up depressed or worse. Especially if I’m like…he’s second wife after Grace. So sorry honey, as much as I love you, I won’t marry you. And i’m not really interested in fucking so what about a nice hug? Or a gentle kiss on the forehead?

And finally my dear sweet little Henry, I love you so much and even if we have like 👌🏼 this much info about you, I know you’ll be the most suited to be my husband 😌

So in conclusion:

Fuck Kiss/Hug: Thomas Shelby

Marry: Henry Wilson

Kill: William Killick

🎻 for Alfie: okay so ever since Alfie moved to Margate and takes Cyril on walks, he has discovered a new passion: picking up seashells. He has a beautiful jewelry box he got…in some very questionable ways and keeps them there. He even trained Cyril to find them so whenever they’re on the beach he’ll tell him to go fetch the seashells and he’ll look for some on his side. It’s a simple activity he enjoys, it passes time and he finds some real gems sometimes!

🎻 for Henry: he bakes a delicious apple cake. It was something he used to do with his mother, every Wednesday afternoon as a little boy. He would sit with her in the kitchen and she would show him how to cut the apples, break the eggs using only one hand or whip the batter the right way so the cake is all nice and fluffy. I can see him bake this cake for his wife’s birthday or with his kids later as some sort of tradition. They’d go to the backyard to pick up fresh apples from the apple trees then spend the whole afternoon in the kitchen, making their granny’s famous cake together.

Where I live, there are mountains surrounding the place everywhere. No matter where you look, you’ll see mountains. At sunrise and sunset, the mountains turn a warm pink, offering us the most beautiful view. I live in a small apartment, in an old house with a tiny garden to host tea parties and birthdays.

When I go out in the morning, I enjoy the fresh breeze on my face, instantly waking me up. I pass by a small bakery, right across the corner behind my place and it smells like freshly baked bread in the morning, sometimes I just take a second to enjoy it.

The tramway ride to school is always the best place to relax, especially when it’s empty. With some nice music in my ear, I can write, study or just get lost in my own daydreams. It gives me enough strength before I have to face the day. It’s probably one of my favorite moments in the day.

We stop right in front of a small market and I always tell myself that, when I’ll have time, I’ll go there. It may sound funny but it’s one of the things I want to do next year: go more to the farmer’s market.

We also pass the great river of my city. It’s a very calming place, I’d like to walk there more often. The sound of the flowing water, the cold biting my cheeks, wrapped in my coat and my big scarf, blowing steam out of my mouth, always marveling over the snowy mountains.

My school is right behind the hospital which means I get to stop in front of it every day, it gives me motivation. I see all the doctors and nurses leaving the tramway, walking the stairs to reach the gigantic building and just for a second, I like to imagine myself doing the same thing.

The city I live in now is far from being the prettiest or better than the one I grew up in but I slowly get to see all of its potential and…let’s say I like it a little bit more every day

[ltwilliammowett]

5 books into the Aubrey/Maturin series (on The Fortunes of War). I can't tell who I like more: Killick, Pullings, or Bonden. Who do you prefer, aside from the obvious?

Hi, oh that's easy, it was always Pullings. Back when I started here, this was a roleplaying blog and the characters Aubrey and Pullings were already taken, so I thought I'd use Mowett to fill out the trio of officers. In the meantime, I've grown very fond of this caterpillar (that's from the first book ;) ), as well as Pullings, Aubrey and Maturin.

[companionnpc]

Small randomized pairing game!

Write down six characters without looking at the questions, do your best to answer all six questions, and tag a few people.

Tagged by @ilthit, thank you!

So, my six characters: 

1. Orsino (Dragon Age2) 2. John Bridgens (The Terror) 3. Preserved Killick (Aubreyad)  4. Papageno (The Magic Flute) 5. Piranesi (Piranesi) 6. Samuel Beechworth (Dishonored) 

Tagging (no pressure of course) @urtica-dioica-22, @doumekiss, @invaderlynx

1. #4 and #2 are on their honeymoon and run into a friend staying in the same place. Do they spend time with the friend or ignore them in favour of romance?

Ignore them. Bridgens might want to be polite and agree to have, say, breakfast or lunch with the friend, but it would very soon become clear that they are a third wheel.

2. Which is cuddlier, #1 or #5?  

Unclear. Orsino might be cuddly enough, but he’d be too hesitant to initiate it; Piranesi on the other hand is a complete cuddlemonster, but would not want to impose on someone so dignified and scholarly as Kirkwall’s First Enchanter.

3. What is #3 and #6’s favourite makeout spot?

Wherever is out of an officer’s clear line of sight. Not the galley though. Not anywhere near the Captain’s toasted cheese, that would be gross indecency. 

4. Which is the big spoon and which is the little spoon, out of #5 and #4?

Depends. Piranesi goes wherever he’s needed. Papageno likes to assert that he’s the manly man in the relationship (the cock as it were) but he’s also a complete coward and in need of constant reassuring.

5. Who is the better cook, #3 or #2?

Killick. It must be Killick. He’s the captain’s steward, after all, Bridgens only the subordinate officers’.

6. Who asks who out first, #6 or #1?

No one really, but Orsino, technically. He kept calling Samuel to the Circle on “urgent business” until Samuel docking at Kirkwall and not visiting became unthinkable. 

[cinemaocd]

Victorian undergarments: a guide for Terror fans

AKA the truth about men’s corsets, leather gear, garters, over the knee stockings, drop front versus front fly trousers and More Terror Shit Shirt Posting

My hot mess of a shirt post continues to get notes. I continue to get lovely asks and pms, so I’m going to bring you more shirt information as well as more info about other articles of historic clothing worn in the Terror. My hope is that this will be useful for fic writers and artists as well as giving fans a deep dive into one of my favorite obsessions: historical dress.

The style of shirt that Francis wears was an all purpose undergarment. It was almost always white, or unbleached linen (though cotton was used for shirts at that point in the 19th century). It was cut with a very full sleeve (up to twenty inches) to allow ease of movement and long tails which were tucked under the groin to form a protective layer between the body and trousers. The shirt was not a button down as we know it, but had a pullover V-neck with two buttons at the throat as on this extant example:

One of the things that interesting about this shirt was how little it changed over the years. This cut of shirt had a 150+ year reign. It was a practical design that provided a washable layer next to the body. The generous sleeve allowed for a variety of clothing to be worn with it. It had the downside of requiring a lot of fabric (more than 3 yards of linen for each shirt) and as such patterns could be a complex patchwork of sewn together squares that helped avoid waste.

By the 1840s men’s shirts were changing. The front was often decorated with pintucking, the fabric was lighter weight cotton, rather than linen, but the full sleeves and long tails were still in evidence.

Those would gradually be lost over the next decades as the popularity of knitted drawers, union suits and other types of underwear came into being and as sewing machines made mass production of shirts possible.

But obviously our Francis cares nothing for these modern shirts and wears his old favorite that he has owned forever, possibly made by a family member, as was common in the period especially for officers in the military. Mind you, it doesn’t really matter most of the time that his shirt is very old as it was never meant to be seen. One of the worst costume fantasies that has been perpetrated in so many period films is the gentleman walking around in his shirt. At least Andrew Davies Mr. Darcy had the good sense to be embarrassed to be caught in his shirt. Joe Wright’s Darcy actually goes a courtin half dressed...but I digress. We only see Crozier in his shirt sleeves after they’ve left the ship, have been hauling for a few days and during the mutiny. I like to think that Crozier realizes that wearing his old shirt will help the men identify with him more. 

If you were an officer in the military you would be provided with a steward or valet to assist in your dressing. This man would also help to keep your uniform clean and and in good repair. (Honestly one of the best relationships in all of fiction is the one between Captain Jack Aubrey and his steward, Killick, who lives in a state of constant paranoia about Aubrey’s uniforms.) An officer would have several shirts so that they could have a clean one at all times and they would probably keep a best one for dress. (Maybe Francis has a cotton shirt with pintucking, folded away in a trunk somewhere, guarded feverishly by Jopson) The sailors who had no access to regular laundry would have a few as well, though they might be made of cheaper, rougher cloth, with ticking or striped patterns on them, like the one Hickey wears during his trail.

Again, Francis appearing hauling alongside the men in his shirt is his way of signaling to them that he is one of them. Mr. Goodsir, also appears in his shirtsleeves after the mutiny, a sign that his civilized veneer is scraped away along with his outer uniform.

Drops and drawers

Well into the 19th century both men and women had no such thing as drawers, pants, underpants, knickers etc. as a rule. For men, the long shirt tails were tucked under the groin, front and back and created a little, er..nest for their equipage. For women, the shift, just a long shirt really, provided a layer of protection between menstrual blood and valuable gowns and stays, as well as protecting less washable layers from sweat and grime.

But for the men of the Terror, there was layer of knitted wool underwear, that may have been either two pieces or one suit, with buttons running the length of the body. There are very few examples of these garments, but we do know they existed thanks to the Maritime Museum saving Lord Nelson’s stuff.:

Interesting that this shirt has the long tails for tucking. But by the time of Franklin expedition, knitted long drawers would have been available as well. The full long underwear suit wasn’t patented until the 1860s in America (where it’s use by soldiers in the Civil War earned it the moniker “union suit.”) However that doesn’t mean some kind of full suit of long underwear wasn’t available in England at the time of the expedition. My guess is that Francis has a separate shirt, the top of which is visible during the crisis over Mr. Morfin, and woolen or cotton “drawers” which he mentions to Jopson on the morning after Morfin’s death like these from 1840s made by John Smedley:

Hickey is shown in his underwear after Irving’s murder and then after the mutiny he adopts it as a sort of uniform (complete with stolen boots and great coat) of the new regime. It’s such a wonderful little detail that this BASE creature is wearing only a BASE layer.

Garters, Stockings, Corsets and other Kinkwear from Military history

Men’s and women’s stocking differed very little in the 19th century. Over the knee stockings of embroidered silk would have been kept for dress, but every day socks of cotton and wool with embroidery near the top or “clocking” (because the pattern was often of a clock) were worn by all.

Lord Nelson’s stockings had a crown insignia instead of a clock, which I just think is neat. (His undershirt has the same insignia at the neck...whether it was Emma Hamilton or Lady Nelson doing this embroidery, we’ll leave to Terrence Rattigan to decide...)

Officers would have had dress socks that were held up by sock garters (elastic garters for men and women were patented in the 1820s.) Given that their shirt tails were cut to mid thigh and their socks were over the knee, it’s fairly plausible that they used a double ended garter which clipped at one end to the shirt tail and the other to the top of the stocking. If all of this is sounding like some of the racier James Fitzjames fanart that is not my fault. Blame history!

Speaking of which, did you know that men sometimes wore corsets to make their uniforms fit better?  This 1830s Royal Marines uniform at the Maritime Museum is specified to have required a corset for proper fit. Sadly the corset didn’t survive! (If anyone wants to draw Tozier, Pilkington or Hedges in a corset, I would very much like to see that.)

As if all of that weren’t kinky enough, there is this leather and rope jock strap, which was attached to a corset, also from the very naughty nautical museum in slutty, slutty Greenwich. The less said about the white crust on the jock strap the better.

Waistcoat Discourse

Well this will probably be a bit pedestrian after that section, but I think it’s worth talking about waistcoats as well. In the flashback scenes Francis wears a fancy silk waistcoat that has the same cut as the other wool one he wears.

Again this is Francis’ practical nature. Navy uniform patterns were sent out in 1843 with changes to the uniform, including a different waistcoat, so he’s having his man make the waistcoat off the same pattern, saving him money. An interesting footnote was that the Lieutenants uniform in 1843 had a bunch of additional gold braiding and there were many complaints to the admiralty about the cost of these additions. There was also a thriving second hand market in used uniform jackets.

Fitzjames has a white waistcoat cut from the same pattern.

Which is based off of the portrait of real life Fitzjames.

Wool flannel would have been the fabric of choice for arctic explorers. It’s a nice little detail, that The Real Mr. Hickey had a plaid flannel waistcoat in the flashback scene:

That striped shirt looks familiar! I wonder if the imposter Hickey took his clothes after he dabbed him?!

And finally: STOCKS

In the 18th and 19th centuries men went so far as to cover the collar of the shirt with a stock (think of it as a cumberbund for the neck) so that their collar wasn’t peaking out from their tie. It also helped to make for the appearance of a long, graceful neck. I mean scroll back up and check out the giraffe neck on historical JFJ. Stocks have generally fallen into the vast pit of forgotten fashion and it’s the rare historical costume nerd that even knows what they are, yet for almost 200 years they were considered essential kit for men. Officers in the military HAD to wear a stock as part of their uniform, and it was often uncomfortable (the base of the stock was made of leather, horsehair or WOOD) and covered with fabric. It buckled in the back, requiring a servant to help put it on. Here is a 1845 silk and leather stock from the Maritime Museum:

Though it isn’t exactly undergear, trouser fronts were in flux during this period. Here is the 1843 uniform with the fall front trouser opening. But in the world outside the navy, fly front trousers are starting to pop up around 1840ish.You are welcome to my JFJ has newfangled fly front trousers head canon...

[cillianmesoftlyyy]

What I Want... | William Killick x fem!reader

summary: Elise is the daughter of an army surgeon who must learn to live with her father's new boarder, Officer William Killick. What begins as a childish crush quickly becomes deep-rooted resentment for the haughty young officer, but one night at dinner when Elise forces the men to listen to what she has to say, that resentment becomes something more once again.

warnings: Smut, misogyny, age-gap (19 & 26), unprotected sex, degrading talk, angst, fingering, oral (f receiving), semi-public.

word count: 5,061k

*edited 5/25/24- switched to 2nd person pronouns.

Say Yes To Heaven- Lana Del Ray 🎶

Mystery- Jesse Jo Stark 🎵

I'm back! Did you miss me? 💋

To start the story, you must imagine a country courtyard, a quaint country home outside of London. The house is small and built on the edge of the city, before the suburbs became a fairy tale destination for starter families. That house is home to a widower and his daughter, recovering from the shock of the Blitz. Even in the English countryside, the war could still be felt like vibrations through the ground. You could feel them too. The daughter of an army doctor, you grew up in a strict household reeking of repressed emotion. Your father was a widower and an emotionally unavailable army doctor, so you followed the typical protocol. You acted out in your teenage years, trying to make up for the hole your mother’s absence left in your home. By eighteen you were your own person, stronger and more independent. You tried to be completely normal, just like everyone else, because you didn’t want to be different. You rode your bike, borrowed books from the library, and painted your nails with red lacquer. You were just a girl, preparing to study away at university, when William Killick joined your household in the summer of ‘46. 

He was a boarder and a prestigious one at that. He was a decorated officer, brave, mature…handsome. 26 never looked so good on a man. At the beginning of the summer, William ignored your stares, your darting eyes, and nervous smiles. You were the last thing on his mind and who can blame him? Surviving the war took a toll on the man and manifested physically in his nightmares and tight jaw. The day he arrived, William had just a few belongings with him. One of which was a typewriter because he was set on writing about the war. Your father had invited him to stay for the summer, offering whatever assistance he needed to get back onto his feet. William took it cautiously, embarrassed to receive such enormous help from a man who had already saved his life once before. You, the doctor’s daughter, had been mentioned only once before, subtext in a telegram, barely important. After arriving two weeks before, it had become clear to William that you were to be his housemate and awkward teenage neighbor. 

William was not good with girls but he was great with women. Anyone below the age of twenty became alien. He didn’t know how to talk to them, so he didn’t. William would watch you from his bedroom window as you lounged in the backyard, dipping your feet into the deep fountain by the garden wall. You tossed and turned on the fountain’s surface, sunning yourself like a lizard. William would lick his lips and looked away, turning his attention to the keys of his typewriter. 

When you would come inside, your feet still wet from the fountain, you could hear the irritatingly familiar sound of typewriter keys. William’s fingers struck each tab fiercely with a precision that sounded like vengeance. You had hated it at first, fumming in your bedroom with a pillow pressed around your ears, but you found the sound comforting now. At night it reminded you that he was awake, watching, aware. You felt safe and found yourself falling asleep faster. You never told him this, however, you rarely talked to him at all. His stern-looking face and quiet demeanor was off putting and cautionary to a young woman. William had been there for only three weeks and you’d barely said one word to him at all. You watched him more and more, feeling a kernel of desire hardening in your chest. It was a girlish crush, something that entertained you when the long hours of summer bored you. 

You couldn’t help, however, to wonder if William ever looked out his window as you swung your shapely legs back and forth on the swing in your backyard. You hoped it would draw him out of his room one day, but your lax attitude and childish behavior still irked the older Officer. Even if his eyes lingered on your freckled shoulders during dinner, you were little more than an annoying child to him. Your breakfasts together were awkward and spent in silence while the doctor was making house calls. William took his coffee in silence, no longer able to stay awake after just one cup of tea. His nightly nightmares made it impossible to do much sleeping. 

One month into William’s stay, you ventured to finally speak to the man. Creeping quietly into the breakfast room and wearing a pretty girl’s play uniform and ribbons in your hair, you pulled his attention away from his newspaper. 

“Are you going to the victory parade, Captain?” 

Your voice broke the silence in William’s mind. He glanced up and noticed you standing beside your chair, your blush colored hand gripping the back of your chair. Your quiet voice shocked the thoughts from his head. 

“Pardon?” He asked as he cleared his throat. The newspaper collapsed over his fists. You blinked nervously and licked your lips. 

“Are you going to the victory parade? It’s on the front page,” you pointed to the front page of the newspaper he held between his hands. William tore his eyes from your face and checked the paper, annoyance rising in his throat. He took a moment to read the headline and groaned internally. 

“No, I won’t.” He answered evenly and flicked the paper back into place. You disappeared behind the wall of words and bit your lip in embarrassment. He kept his eyes focused on the page, though not reading, while you slipped out of the room. Your sandals clicked obnoxiously as you rushed up the stairs into your room. 

Your face burned from embarrassment and anger, so you cupped your hands against your cheeks. You cursed beneath your breath and resisted the urge to scream and kick your feet in the air. Your conversation had lasted for less than a minute and you learned exactly how rude the Officer could be. Were all men of higher rank like that? What gave Officer Killick the right to treat you in that way, so disinterested and unbothered? He was technically YOUR guest! You fummed in the privacy of your bedroom as William chewed his toast calmly and swallowed. 

…

  William remained frustratingly unbothered as he dressed for dinner, fixing his hair and straightening his dinner jacket. He cleared the dark hair from his forehead and sighed through his nose, his jaw set painfully as if he were suppressing a yawn. His door remained ajar and the movement of you passing in the hallway caught his eyes in the mirror. Your small waist was wrapped in a red romper and your brown mary janes squeaked quietly against the floorboards’ grain. You’d left your hair ribbons behind and your hair fell messily behind your shoulders. 

You tried to breathe evenly as you descended the stairs. The sounds of your father emerging from his study for dinner comforted your nervous attitude. You dreaded the arrival of the man upstairs, dreading having to listen politely as the men discussed their days, opinions, thoughts. It made you dislike the man more but it also made your crush that much more unbearable. You picked at the skin on your palms when you all met at the dining room table in silence. You listened as the men discussed politics as they usually did, the boredom boring into your temples like screws. You studied the smug profile of the young officer and pinched the skin on your thigh. Call you immature but you wanted to cause trouble, raise a little hell for the man, just enough to make him finally acknowledge your existence. 

“Officer Killick told me that he isn’t participating in the victory parade,” you casually announced, cutting your meat and licking the juice from your fork. Her father raised his eyebrows inquisitively. 

“Oh?” He asked as he chewed. William looked at the girl, his brows furrowed. What were you doing? 

“Ah no,” William cleared his throat and wiped his mouth with his cloth napkin. 

“It’s a pity,” you interjected, your eyes trained on your plate. 

“Why’s that?” William retorted, cautious of your tainted tone. 

“The parade is celebrating your victory, our victory. Surly Churchill would want you to be there.” 

William swallowed sharply, his blue eyes now trained on you at the table, sitting adjacent to him. 

“I owe Mr. Churchill nothing.” His voice was cold, his shoulders stiff, and his eyes narrowed, “and as long as you aren’t in cahoots with the man, I doubt he would ever know I wasn’t there to celebrate such a phony victory.” 

“Are you not pleased with the outcome, Officer Killick?” You asked calmly. Your father looked between the two of you with nervous glances. 

“That’s an unfair question.”

“How so?” 

“We may have won but the loss of human lives in the process barely justifies the minimal victory we claim to have earned.” 

“Are you such a pessimist?” You leaned closer and watched as the man lost more of his patience. 

“I’m a realist. I know what the war did and I know the effect it will continue to have because of what we did. No victory is worth what I’ve seen.” His eyes betrayed his erratic state. Images of war flashed in his eyes. 

He was breathing heavily as your eyes locked over the dinner table. You watched him, your eyes softening at the sight of the man cracking beneath the pressure of your conversation. His hair had been displaced and strands stuck to his perspiring forehead. His adam’s apple bobbled in his throat as he swallowed. 

“You still don’t want to celebrate what you’ve accomplished, what we have now because of what you and other men had to do? War is about sacrifices and even sacrifices should be celebrated.” You offered evenly and looked down at your plate shyly. William took a deep breath and sighed, picking up his fork to resume eating.  

“I shouldn’t be celebrated. Nothing I did was worth praise.” He said quietly and looked at the doctor. “In fact, doctor, you should know that the man you’ve allowed to stay in your home is just as bad as the men he was forced to slaughter. I’ve done things…” he faltered and sniffed loudly. William stood and dropped his napkin on the table beside his plate. He looked once again at you, his eyes soft once more. 

“I’ve done things no young woman should ever have to know about.” His eyes lingered on your face as he spoke and when he was finished he turned and left the room. His footsteps echoed emptily in the dark house as he left out through the back door. The doctor paused before looking at you.

“Elise,” he sighed, “we’ve all made sacrifices that we’d prefer not to remember. Parades tend to make us remember.” He sipped slowly from his wine glass and cleared his throat. 

…

You finished your dinner quickly and excused yourself. When your father was safely removed to his bedroom, you snuck down the stairs in your bare feet, hoping to avoid making any noise that would wake your father. In the cover of warm darkness, William stood beside the fountain, his hands shoved into his pockets. He stared wordlessly into the glimmering water until he heard your approach and whipped his head around. His wide eyes relaxed once he recognized your silhouette and soft voice. 

“Sorry, sir,” you whispered into the summer air. William looked back at the fountain and bit his tongue slightly. 

“You’re something else, aren’t you?” He muttered. 

“Sir?”

“How did your father allow you to grow up into such a brat?” He spun around, his voice harsh with a snarl. The ridge of his nose was crinkled as he spoke. You quivered beneath his tone and bit the inside of your cheek. 

“You don’t know me well enough to say that.”

“Then what was that at dinner? How dare you talk to me like that!” He turned around, his voice dark and angry. You sucked in a breath, watching as his hands rose in the air and froze. 

“I was angry and I overreacted,” you whispered weakly. William’s shoulders relaxed slightly in the dark. 

“Why?” He asked with a tired sigh and fished around in his pocket for a cigarette. 

“We’ve barely had even one conversation since you got here. This morning I was trying to make polite conversation and you were quite rude about it.” You spoke with your hands waving about your body and your breath tight as you searched for words. 

“Maybe I don’t like polite conversation,” William grumbled as he struck a match and tried to light his cigarette, “damn it.” He cursed when his hands shook, making it impossible to light his cigarette. 

“Maybe you have no manners,” you countered and took the small matchbook from the man. William watched you cautiously as you struck a new match and offered him the flame. William bent over and puffed out smoke until the cigarette’s end was properly lit. He pulled it from his lips and exhaled. 

“I stopped caring about manners during the war. In a world where there are so many problems, manners just seem ridiculous to waste my energy on. So, as to my point, I don’t like making polite conversation. If I wanted to talk to you about something, I would.”

“Well why haven’t you?” You crossed your arms across your chest and dug your toe into the soft bed of the lawn, avoiding his eyes like a shy schoolgirl. 

“Sometimes I don’t have anything to say,” William shrugged. 

“To women you mean,” you finished for him and his eyes shot back to your’s. He looked you up and down before he shook his head with a smirk you’d never seen before. 

“I don’t know if I would call you that. You’re a little young.” 

“And what? Does that make you an old man?” You smiled and glanced back at the house behind you, most of the windows devoid of light. 

“In some sense, yes,” William looked down at his cigarette and furrowed his eyebrows. 

“Well, I’m not a little girl, Officer Killick.” You smiled, “and I’m certainly not a brat.” 

“We’ll see about that,” William smiled back and twirled his cigarette between his fingers. As he looked down at the cigarette in his hand, a pair of soft lips kissed him quickly. You held his top lip carefully in your mouth before stepping back, watching his eyes for a reaction. William swallowed and opened his mouth to speak but no words came. You stared at each other in the darkness until William kissed you again, bending his shoulders down to meet your lips. It had been forever since he had kissed a woman and the rush of your breath fanning against his lips made him shiver. You wrapped your arms briefly around his shoulders and rose to your tiptoes. You held their lips still against one another for a moment and William felt himself sigh into you. Your smaller body radiated warmth into his, making him aware of the sweat collecting at the small of his back. With his free hand, William snaked his hand up your neck to your hair and clasped it in his hand. You smelled so nice and strands of your silky hair slipped from his fingers. 

“Y/N…” he whispered as he broke their kiss. Your bright eyes fluttered open and looked up at him. Suddenly, the scene became all too real to him. William took a step back, dropping his hand from your hair. He dragged a hand through his own hair and furrowed his brow. The dim light from the dining room leaked into the yard, casting a jaundice light on the young woman before him. From your perspective, the officer’s form was backlit, illuminating the width of his shoulders and the curve of his neck as he tilted his head to the side. He sighed heavily and took a long drag of his cigarette. Smoke filtered from his nose as he dropped the cigarette and stubbed it out with his heel. 

“Do you always get what you want?” He said calmly. You caught your breath, the sound of the fountain behind you becoming deafening. His blue eyes glimmered like dying stars in the dark. Your chest rose and fell as time felt as if it was standing still. That moment before a bomb exploded, before the ground gave out and the windows shattered around you. His hand waited at his side, flexing and relaxing as he watched you. 

“Yes,” you whispered finally. William drew in a shaky breath and nodded softly, risking a step towards you. 

“Then…” he started “who am I to resist you now?” He asked seriously, getting closer. Your eyes followed his hand as it found your hip in the dark. 

“But Y/N…” he started again and looked you up and down, “someone ought to tell you no.” He smirked haughtily and tilted your head back by your chin. He leaned his mouth in beside your ear and growled, “no one likes a fucking brat.” 

His words tickled the peach fuzz down your neck and you shivered, frightened by the tone of his deep voice. William dropped his hand from your waist and turned away. You watched his back as he walked away from you in the dark, towards the light of the house. Not ready to give up yet, you rushed to him and grabbed his forearm, urging him to stop. 

“Killick,” you whispered in a small voice. He looked over his shoulder at you, your red romper creased from dinner. He could just make out the light colored hair on your upper thighs in the offcast-light. Something in your facial expression changed him, the doe-like look in your eyes or your cupid bow lips, puckered in desire. He turned back around and kissed you, your hand still wrapped tightly around his arm. His hands reached for your waist and grabbed tightly at the flesh there. You dropped his hand when he picked you up by your waist, holding you up painfully on your tip-toes. Now you looked down slightly at him, his eyes dark and mature, scary and different in the nighttime. 

“What do you want from me, Y/N?” He grunted up at you, his voice heavy. You swallowed nervously and whined quietly from the painful way his fingers bore into your waist, the fabric of your romper giving your an uncomfortable wedgie

“I-,” you took a breath, “want you.”

“Oh, do you now?” William smirked, rubbing his thumbs across the fabric around your sides. “And you always get what you want, so what makes me special to you? Why should I let you have me?” 

You tried to catch your breath in your uncomfortable position.  

“I’ve never wanted anyone like this before,” you whispered, breathless. It was an honest response that embarrassed you and your face flushed a deep unflattering pink. William laughed briefly and lowered your back to the ground. 

“You’re just a naive little girl,” William stated, “you don’t know what you want.” 

“No, you’re right. I don’t.” You answered, frustration showing in your tone, “It’s not enough that I’m making a fool of myself saying these things to you, you have to make me feel stupid as well. My father does enough of that.” 

“You’re not stupid,” William observed quietly, but you were already mad, your voice gaining a harsher edge as you spoke.

“No, I’m not. I know I’m not. But to you and every other man that has ever been inside this house, I’m just a foolish little girl who knows nothing about the real world. And you may be right, Officer Killick, I may know nothing of war but it's only because you men have made it so that I can’t. I know nothing about how it feels for men and women to be together but I know something of how I feel, I know what want  is. I know what desire is. I desire so many things, sir. I want an education, I want to be taken seriously, I want to get out of this house, and right now, I want you. 

Your voice was no louder than a whisper but you felt as though you had been shouting. William watched you as you spoke, his jaw loosening as he listened. When you finished, he raised his eyebrow. Saying nothing, he stepped closer and swept the hair off your shoulders to your back. 

“You speak of desire,” William said softly as his hands cradled your neck, “I didn’t think I could desire anything after I came back.” 

You looked up at William and breathed out shakily when he began stroking your throat. 

“Why do I desire such an aggravating young woman? How could I want you so desperately when you make me so fucking angry?” 

“I could say the same sir,” you whispered, your hands hesitantly finding his chest beneath his jacket. William looked down at your sweet face and kissed you softly. You gripped the slack in his shirt, pulling him closer. William began to kiss you harder, shifting his head to the other side, and breathing deeply against your skin. You moaned softly as his hands slid down the front of your romper, lingering over your breasts. Your nipples hardened beneath his light touch as his thumbs passed over them. His hands traveled down to your bare thighs and then back up, slipping up your shorts. 

His right hand shifted over to your crotch, pulling and prodding at the material there. You moaned and rose up on the balls of your feet. You pushed the dinner jacket from his shoulders, watching as it fell to the grass behind him in a pile. Stumbling backwards, William held your waist against his stomach, bending your back away from him as he kissed you. You pulled at his hair, taking handfuls in your palms and tugging lightly. The Officer felt blood rush to his cock as he lowered you onto the grass beside the fountain. Your kisses became more erratic, sloppy with nerves and fear. Your heart seemed to beat so fast and hard that the ground quivered beneath you. William reached around your back, finding the small zipper at the nape of your neck and unzipped the romper slowly. 

“Wait,” you whispered and drew away from the man, “I don’t know how to do this.” 

William nodded, his breath shallow from lust, “It's alright sweetheart.” His voice was deep and contrasted strangely with the lightness of his blue eyes. The tree adjacent to your bodies covered you with a blanket of additional darkness, but even still, you could trace the outline of the officer’s face with your eyes. 

“You don’t have to do anything,” he whispered against your ear as he moved the straps from your shoulders, exposing the flesh below your collarbones and above your breasts. “But because you’re such a spoiled brat who gets whatever you wants…” his eyes flicked up to hers as he pulled the romper down your chest. “It's my turn to do what I want.” 

William tugged the romper down your waist and maneuvered it off your legs, setting it neatly to the side. Below your romper, you wore only underwear. William’s hands shook as he traced the hemming of the pretty panties, trailing a finger from the point of your pelvis to the inside of your thigh. You panted nervously, your chest rising and falling in quick succession. You resisted the urge to cover your breasts with your arms, embarrassed that you were so exposed when he was still almost fully dressed. With one last quick glance up at the house, William kissed your navel and then again on the soft pouch of flesh above the top of your underwear. 

When he pulled your underwear down to your knees, you gasped and covered your mouth quickly, shocked by the reality of your situation. At any moment, your father could awake and find the two other rooms empty. At any moment, your father could come outside to see the young officer lower his mouth to your thighs and kiss them gently. The house, however, stayed quiet and dark as William spread your legs as far as you could with the underwear still around your knees, and rubbed his pointer finger between the folds of your cunt. 

“I want to feel you around my fingers,” William said hoarsely, holding himself over you, still kneeling between your crooked legs. “I want to see how much you can take.” He added with a soft smirk before slowly inserting one finger inside you. You arched your back slightly, scared by the intrusion that wasn’t necessarily pleasurable. 

“It’s in,” he encouraged you quietly and moved his finger back and forth, coating it with your natural lubricant. “You’re doing so well, sweetheart.” William watched your face. Your eyes widened as his finger went deeper, making you feel full with just one finger inside. It didn’t really feel like anything, though you enjoyed the closeness it awarded you as William’s face got closer and closer to your own. His breath mingled with your’s, your eyes locked. 

“Just one more finger and you’ll start to feel it. It’ll feel good.” William told you as he slowly inserted a second finger. You quickly muffled your moan as William worked the two fingers inside. The Officer was right, that’s when you started to feel it. William curled his fingers up and worked them in and out, prodding at the small button-like organ inside your cunt. You squirmed beneath him, your hips thrusting up as you tried to work through the sensations. 

“Good…” William praised you, licking his lips quickly, and looked down at your wet cunt. Then he slowly lowered his face between your thighs and watched up close as his fingers worked inside you, eliciting dampened whimpers and sighs. Watching your changing facial expressions, William applied his mouth to your clit and began to suck gently. Immediately, your hips jutted forward, Your free hand pulled up handfuls of grass and you bit down on your palm. You whimpered loudly through your teeth and William smiled against your cunt, licking your folds in quick, cat-like laps. 

“Sir,” you moaned, your eyes rolling into the back of your head, “s-something's happening. Mmmmmm oh god!” You cried as William sucked harder on your clit, his fingers fucking you with more violence. 

“You’re cuming. Good, good girl.” William smirked and helped your ride through your violent first orgasm. Your hips fell back against the grass as cloudy juice coated his tired fingers. Licking them clean, William sat back on his knees and admired your beautiful body. You looked up at him with your wide, doe-like eyes. Your hair was wild and sweat glistened across your collarbones. William had not been able to get an erection since he left the airforce, but now, he felt the old-familiar feeling of his cock being crushed against his pants. His crotch tented out toward you. You were panting as you tried to catch your breath. 

“We’re not quite done yet,” William ran a hand up your thigh to your cheek. The muscles in your stomach contracted as his hand passed over them. With his free hand, William undid the front of his trousers and pulled his erection from his underwear. His pants fell slightly below his pale butt as he supported himself over you again. “Put your hand on it,” William ordered kindly and waited patiently as you reached for his cock in the dark. He sighed loudly as you held his cock and began to rub your hand up and down. 

“Good, keep doing that and go a little faster…. Just like that, yes.” 

“It’s so big…” You whispered, biting your lip. 

“Well what’d you expect, sweetheart?” William tried to smile before breaking into a moan. “Ok, I’ll take over again from here. I’m going to fuck you now, ok?” He waited for you to nod before he raised one of your legs and lined himself up with your entrance. “This will hurt a little. Try to be quiet, ok?” He pushed inside and felt the immediate contraction of your cunt around him as he did. 

“So fucking wet, bloody hell.” William watched as his cock slid inside, your cum glistening around his length. You covered your mouth once again and gasped each time he pulled back and reentered you. “Oh I’m going to fuck your sweet little cunt,” William groaned, holding himself back from fucking you as hard as he wanted to. 

“It feels so good,” You gasped behind your hand and William nodded. 

He started to move deeper, slightly shifting the girl’s body across the grass as his hips met hers. His butt flexed as he went as far as he could inside her, whimpering when you squeezed around him. As he started to gain more momentum, William grunted each time he thrusted into you and you bit down on your thumb to stop yourself from yelling out in pleasure. He held one of your thighs up to your chest, helping his cock find the button of pleasure inside your cunt. When he did, you moaned around your thumb. You grabbed at the Officer’s shirt, pulling him closer to your chest. William supported himself just above your face and kissed your splotchy pink neck as he went slower. 

“I’m going to cum again,” you whimpered beside his ear. 

William smirked and bit down gently on your shoulder, his hips rutting deeply into you. 

“Cum for me, sweetheart.” William urged you as he worked up to his own climax. Your whimpers peaked as you came around him for a second time, your hands grabbing onto the back of his shirt. Fucking you a little faster as you whinned beneath him, William came to a blinding climax. Pulling out just in time, he spilled his hot seed onto the ground beside you. You stared at each other as you panted, both of your grotesquely pale skin glowing in the dark. Finally, William kissed you again, sucking on your bottom lip as you sighed softly. 

And just as you pulled apart, a soft yellow light came on upstairs.

....

Should there be a part 2?

[janamelie]

LGBT+ Characters

What This Isn’t

A claim of “proof” of the sexuality and / or gender identity of any of these characters.  We don’t need that or anything else to “justify” shipping.

What This Is

A reference post to collate instances in canon which could indicate LGBT+ characters.  In the case of regulars, I won’t include every instance as it would simply take too long.

Rimmer

As I was saying… :p

Honestly, Rimmer is so obviously LGBT+ to me that I don’t know where to start.  How about his reaction to Ace in “Dimension Jump”?

RIMMER: "Commander Rimmer!" I ask you.  "Ace!" Barf city.  I bet you anything he wears women's underwear.  They're all the same, this type, you know, Hurly-burly, rough-n-tumble macho marines in public, and behind closed doors he'll be parading up and down in taffeta ballgowns, drinking mint juleps, whipping the houseboy.

KRYTEN: Sir, he's you!  It's just that your lives diverged at a certain point in time.

RIMMER: Yes, I went into the gents and he went the other way.

KRYTEN: I assume, sir, you are making fatuous references to his sexuality.  If I may point out, if --

Or how about Low Rimmer?  Surely Rob and Doug could have got their point across a little less graphically?

Or if you prefer something less rapey, this passage from “IWCD”.  Unlike the show, Rob and Doug had more time and leeway to explore the characters and this is what they chose to include for Rimmer:

“Rimmer began to regret his outburst. He didn’t like to see his other self upset, and he even contemplated briefly going up to him and giving him a manly embrace. But in a brief moment of homosexual panic, he thought his double might get the wrong idea. Not that he would, of course, because he was him and he knew for a fact he wasn’t that way sexually tilted; so obviously his double wasn’t and obviously his double would know that he wasn’t either, and it was simply a manly embrace meant in a sort of mano a mano kind of way…Perhaps he was tired…Two or three days in bed and he’d be his old self again…Who cared if his copy saw it as a sign of weakness? He’d suggest it anyway.” Infinity Welcomes Careful Drivers, Grant/Naylor, pg 233.

And this from the end of the “Better Than Life” novel, when Holly - whose IQ has been restored - comes up with a way to bring Lister back from the dead (no, not as a hologram):

“Rimmer stood in the hatchway and his face yielded to a grin, which in turn gave way to laughter.  Not his normal hollow braying empty laughter, this was an altogether different noise.  This was a noise his vocal cords had never been called on to make before.

It was the laughter of joy.”

Better Than Life, Grant/Naylor, pg 218.

I know some fans read Rimmer as asexual and you can certainly make an argument for that, most obviously in “Marooned” where he describes his younger self as not “particularly highly sexed”.  Of course, that wouldn’t preclude him also being homoromantic or biromantic.

Lister

No-one’s denying Lister’s obvious attraction to and affection for women, but that doesn’t mean that he can’t be bisexual or pansexual.  In fact, his “I’m not gay!” protestations in “Duct Soup” is a fairly common way for people attracted to more than one gender to describe themselves if they don’t feel comfortable using labels.  Given that he was talking to Chloe!Kochanski to whom he’s attracted, it makes sense that he’d prevaricate like this.

And then of course, in the very next episode “Blue”, he dreams about kissing Rimmer.  It’s not only the fact of this, it’s the subsequent scene drawing a direct comparison between him missing Rimmer and Kochanski missing her Dave - her boyfriend.  And despite the ending of this episode, when Lister actually meets Rimmer again, he’s delighted.  Until he realises it’s not HIS Rimmer and even so, he gets used to nano-Rimmer and they eventually become quite chummy.

Not forgetting the chemistry between him and Ace, of course.

Kryten

I know he's a mechanoid, but no-one has any problem reading his relationship with Mechanoid - and later Blob - Camille as romantic and Camille literally says herself that both she and her husband Hector are actually androgynous, which makes Kryten - at the very least - panromantic.

And that’s before we get to his very obvious love for Lister which he states himself in “Back In The Red”.

Holly

Holly was actually conceived as a female character and became male due to Norman Lovett’s original casting.  Sources: “Stasis Leaked” by Smegazine writer Jane Killick and “The Unofficial Red Dwarf Programme Guide” by Smegazine writers Chris Howarth and Steve Lyons.

With Hattie’s replacement casting and later Norman’s return, Rob and Doug may not have intended to create a trans or genderfluid character, but that’s what they ended up doing.

Holly is also bisexual - male Holly was attracted to Hilly and female Holly to Ace.

George McIntyre

It was actually Rob and Doug’s audio commentary on the pilot version of “The End” on “The Bodysnatcher Collection” which alerted me to this possibility.  I know it’s a stretch but I’m including it precisely because I’m indifferent to George as a character and it makes no difference to me whether someone believes this one or not.

During George’s speech at his “Welcome back” party, he says “I don’t want you to think of me as someone who’s dead, more as someone who’s no longer a threat to your marriages - I think Joe knows what I’m talking about!”

We see a man and a woman laughing and the woman playfully pokes the man in the arm.  He stops laughing and looks a bit sheepish.

Rob and Doug comment confusedly to the effect of “Shouldn’t it be the other way round?  This is one of the things we had no control over at this stage.”

Come on, Rob and Doug.  Not only does this scene appear intact in the final televised version of “The End”, you also included extra background on George in “Infinity Welcomes Careful Drivers”, showing the events leading up to his death.  Unlike the hologram he replaces, Frank Saunders, there is no mention of George having a wife or indeed any partner, so as far I’m concerned, we shippers can read whatever we choose into this scene.  We would regardless, but the way canon leaves it is particularly open-ended.

Deb Lister and Arlene Rimmer (“Parallel Universe”)

See previous entries.  If their male counterparts are LGBT+ then so are they, plus I always got that vibe from the performances anyway.

Camille

Yes, everyone uses female pronouns for her as that’s how she presents to the crew, but she says herself: “We’re androgynous, but I suppose you could call [Hector] my husband.”

Noel Coward Waxdroid (“Meltdown”)

Mr Coward was gay in real life and his fictional incarnation here greets Rimmer with “Delighted to meet you, dear boy!”  I rest my case.

Nirvanah Crane

And arguably the entire crew of the Holoship according to her speech: “It's a ship regulation that we all have sexual congress at least twice a day.  It's a health rule … Here it is considered the height of bad manners to refuse an offer of sexual coupling … We are holograms.  There is no risk of disease or pregnancy.  That is why in our society we only believe in sex -- constant, guilt-free sex.”

Does that sound as though they’re fussy about the genders of their partners?  It certainly doesn’t to me.  So:

Captain Hercule Platini

Commander Randy Navarro

Commander Natalina Pushkin

Commander Binks

Sam Murray

From the Series V DVD booklet:

“Briefly revived in “Holoship”, it came as a surprise that Sam was male.  In the original pilot script - and Series 1′s deleted funeral scene - deceased crew member “Sam Murray” is said to be dating “Rick Thesen”.  Possibly Red Dwarf’s first gay couple?”

Cop (“Back To Reality”)

I’m sure it wasn’t written as such and maybe he didn’t intend to, but the way Lenny Von Dohlen plays his character’s reaction to the Voter Colonel just pings my gaydar.

Frank Todhunter (“The End”)

I know the conversation in “Duct Soup” (which also includes a reference to a gay crew member nicknamed “Bent Bob” *cringe*) where Kochanski tells Lister that the Todhunter in her dimension was gay is played off as something she made up to take Lister’s mind off his claustrophobia, but she never actually says as much.  There’s nothing to say that at least part of what she was saying wasn’t true.

Ackerman (Series VIII)

In the Series VIII DVD documentary, actor Graham McTavish says he was playing Ackerman as someone who enjoys sex with women “or at a pinch, men dressed as women”.  So onto this list he goes.

Big Meat (“Only The Good”)

I don’t blame you if you’ve blocked this one out as I find the scene almost unwatchable, but he’s the big prisoner who takes to the idea of being Cat’s “bitch” unexpectedly quickly.

Katerina Bartikovsky (“Back To Earth”)

Credit to @clueingforbeggs for noticing that in “Pete Part 1” Ackerman claims to have been “having jiggy-jiggy with the Science Officer’s wife” and connecting that with Katerina being a Science Officer.  There’s nothing to say that the Joy Squid didn’t conjure up the image of an actual crew member.

But maybe the ship has more than one Science Officer?  Well, the way it’s said makes it sound as though there is only one but in “Holoship” Kryten gives Rimmer a mind patch from two officers, one of whom is Science Officer Buchan.  There is no mention of Buchan’s gender so who’s to say they aren’t also female?

Begg Chief (“Entangled”)

“We prefer the ship of green.  And the sexy light man with the lady legs so long and luscious!”

Chancellor Wednesday (“The Beginning”)

Actor Alex Hardy says in Series X DVD doc “We’re Smegged” that he was playing the relationship between his character and Dominator Zlurth with a homoerotic undercurrent and you can see it subtly in his performance.

Dolphy (“Cured”)

All I’ll say about this one is that if Messalina had behaved towards Lister as Dolphy does in this episode, nobody would have doubted that she was into him.

Ziggy (“Timewave”)

Proof that LGBT+ characters in this show work a lot better when Doug isn’t intentionally writing them as such.  Sorry.

Feel free to add any examples I may have missed.

@lord-valery-mimes  @aziraphale-lesbian   @notalwaysweak  @feline-ranger  @downonthepharm-red-dwarf  @hologrammette  @rosecathy  @cazflibs​

[phoenixflames12]

'Will you answer for that, sir?' he asked (...) at the issue of a confused struggle at close quarters he was flat on his back, Stephen's sword point at his throat and the cold voice saying above him, 'Ask my pardon or you are a dead man. Ask my pardon, I say, or you are a dead, dead man.'

The Nutmeg of Consolation- Aubreyad 14

i.e the moment when Stephen Maturin wins the respect of all of the men aboard the Surprise for being an all round bad ass, has Killick fussing like a mother hen about the state of his uniform, Jack indisposed because he’s eaten too much again and Tom- poor, dear Tom being all white and mute and aghast at the fact that the doctor’s wig got knocked off in the heat of the moment and was picked up by a Highland officer has got me cackling again. 

Why are you like this O’Brian? Why?

[incorrect-aubreyad-quotes]

Jack: What kind of coffee is this?

Killick: We're out of coffee. I boiled up some Gatorade. I didn't think you'd notice.

[tiend]

alike in dignity

The ship’s chrono had ticked over to 00:17 TZT before Dutchy could turn over the watch, and he signed off on the last log entry with some relief. He stood up, stretching and yawning in an attempt to get the cricks out of his back.

“Get out of here,” said Foksill, punching in his CT number to assume command of the next four hours.

“Yeah. Good luck, hope it’s quiet,” said Dutchy. No one liked balls-four. Even underway in the deep black without circadian cues. Droids didn’t care, but the Republic was pathologically afraid of them. So it was bleary-eyed brothers running on sludgy caf, instead.

“The 587th’s skipper dropped some stuff off into the mess decks before,” Foksill said. “S’got jam in it.”

“Nice of her. See you round.” The 587th’s commanding officer wasn’t a proper Jedi, although her battalion seemed to like her.  From what he’d heard, the natural borns up in command didn’t so much. Most of the naval clones were inclined to tolerate her stranger behaviors, because one of them was supplementing MIDRATS. She’d told someone once that clone rations tasted like Tarkin looked, and no one deserved that. The disrespect - from the infantry, no less - made some of them slightly uncomfortable, but cake was cake. Past midnight, cake was priceless.

He found Matloe wandering up from his station, and gave him the news. They walked faster, in case those shitbags on Cuir Watch had taken more than their share.

They entered the mess to find Thrush standing over the plate, chewing, a blissful expression on his face. Thrush had not gotten to choose his name. His batchers had bestowed it unlovingly on him, and he’d never been able to shake it. 

“Oi!” bellowed Matloe in outrage. Thrush had jacked another slice. He took one look at the accelerating petty officers, and bolted out the port side door as fast as his thieving legs would carry him.

There was one piece left.

Dutchy and Matloe had been decanted at the same time into the same birth cohort. They’d tested out with the same aptitude profile; been assigned to the same occupational speciality. They’d been deployed to the same ship. They’d gotten their killick at the same time. They’d crowned their rank with a star on the same selection boards. They were both proud to serve as section leads on Ehn Watch.

None of it mattered.

It was a short, brutal scuffle. Matloe’s elbow slammed into Dutchy’s stomach as Dutchy’s arm clotheslined Matloe. Matloe went down, but hooked Dutchy’s legs on the way. Dutchy rolled and swept, knocking Matloe to his knees. He threw himself forward, desperately, but was pulled back at the last second, grabbing at the plate. It spun, and they watched in anguish as it fell off the countertop onto the floor. Matloe lunged, but missed, smearing crushed cake up his sleeve, and Dutchy yanked his leg and bent it so he had to roll away from it or risk his knee. He kicked with the other leg, and Dutchy stood on the remnants and slipped, landing hard on his tailbone.

“Force fuck a fucking Sith!” he howled, which attracted a warrant officer’s attention.

“What the fuck,” they said to Kamino’s finest, currently nursing their wounds on the floor.

“Thrush took extra,” said Matloe.

“It had jam in it,” added Dutchy, scraping squashed cake off the side of his boot.

Matloe defiantly sucked the icing out of the fabric of his sleeve. Dutchy took a cautious lick, and nibbled around his boot polish.

“What the fuck happened here,” reiterated the warrant officer.

“587th’s CO dropped off some cake, Thrush took two slices and ran away, so there was only one left,” said Dutchy. Listening to himself, he suddenly wasn’t sure it was an adequate explanation.

The warrant officer narrowed their eyes. “With jam?” they asked, picking out the most relevant part.

“Yes?” said Matloe, who’d just found a patch of it near their wrist. “Oi-oi, I think.”

“Make that three extra slices,” said the warrant officer, in a voice that did not bode well for the absent Thrush. “At least. I didn’t get any either. Which way did he go?”

Dutchy gestured to port, his finger still covered with crumbs. “For’ard at speed.”

“Leave that brother fucker to me,” said the warrant officer, stalking towards the door. “I want this floor clean enough to eat off before you two rack out.”

“That could’ve been worse,” said Dutchy, checking the sole of his other boot, just in case.

“Yup,’ agreed Matloe, who had visible damp spots on his cuffs. “Bags the floor buffer.”

“Not if I get there first,” said Dutchy, clutching his bruised tailbone as he hobbled off.

[the-stay-at-home-dragon]

free movies 8D audio

Walker and Stenz acquire Skip Tyler (Jimmi Simpson) to hack into the safeguard framework, yet at the same time expect Sawyer to enact the atomic football. One of the hired fighters, Carl Killick (Kevin Rankin), gets Emily recording a video of the hired soldiers and kidnaps her. Cale and Sawyer contact the summon structure, which utilizes Emily's video to find the characters of the soldiers of fortune, who used to work for different government offices. Cale and Sawyer endeavor to escape through a passage however discover the leave entryway fixed with explosives. They are constrained into the carport and escape in the presidential limo, which is assaulted by Stenz and flips into the White House pool. After Sawyer and Cale are assumed dead in a blast, Hammond is confirmed as the 47th President of the United States. Cale and Sawyer are as yet alive and discover that Hammond requested an airborne invasion to reclaim the White House, yet the soldiers of fortune shoot down the choppers. Having effectively gained of Emily from the video, Stenz takes her to Walker in the Oval Office. Tyler gets done with hacking into NORAD and dispatches a rocket free movies shoot down Air Force Two, executing Hammond and every other person on board. Raphelson is confirmed as the 48th President of the United States and requests an air strike on the White House.

Sawyer surrenders himself to Walker to spare Emily. Walker endeavors to drive Sawyer to utilize the football to dispatch the atomic rockets against the different urban areas in Iran; Walker accuses the Iranian administration for murdering his child in battle. Sawyer declines at to begin with, while Cale sets different rooms ablaze as a redirection. Down in the passages, Tyler accidentally triggers the explosives and bites the dust when they explode. In the wake of executing the vast majority of the rest of the soldiers of fortune and liberating the prisoners, Cale goes up against Stenz and explodes him with a projectile belt amid a battle. Sawyer assaults Walker, who utilizes Sawyer's impression to actuate the football. Walker bolts Iran's objectives with the football when Cale enters the Oval Office by slamming a strengthened Chevrolet through the divider. At the point when Walker scopes to dispatch the rockets, Cale opens shoot on Walker with the auto's Gatling firearm, fiercely executing Walker who is tossed against the divider in the gunfire. Emily waves a presidential banner on the front grass, persuading the approaching military aircraft to cancel the air strike. Raphelson is uncovered to have schemed with Walker in coordinating the assault. Sawyer has Raphelson captured for conspiracy and names Cale as his new specialist and takes him and Emily on an individual ethereal voyage through DC.

Detainees is a 2013 American spine chiller movie coordinated by Denis Villeneuve from a screenplay composed by Aaron Guzikowski. The film has an outfit cast including Hugh Jackman, Jake Gyllenhaal, Viola Davis, Maria Bello, Terrence Howard, Melissa Leo and Paul Dano.  It is Villeneuve's first English-dialect highlight film.

[architectnews]

House by Urban Splash approaches housebuilding like product design

Dezeen promotion: House by Urban Splash is adding two new products to its family of modular housing: a modern mews called Row House, and Mansion House – European-style, mid-rise apartments.

House by Urban Splash (HUS) now offers a range of products that cater for a variety of income levels and households, addressing personal needs rather than taking a "cookie-cutter" approach to house building.

As the company's newest offering, Row House is a modern mews based on the traditional Victorian terrace found across the UK. Like all products in the HUS range, it can be configured by the buyer to suit their lifestyle.

Row House homes will face onto communal gardens

"As a business, we’re striving to create much-needed homes in the UK, which meet the demands of a range of homeowners without compromising on quality, we are delighted to diversify our offer with Row House," said HUS co-founder Jonathan Falkingham.

"Row House combines state-of-the-art architecture, materiality and construction with lifestyle-enhancing customer choice."

Buyers can customise a home's layout to meet their needs

By diversifying its product portfolio, HUS hopes to offer buyers as many options as possible from modern homes of the highest architectural quality.

"Buyers have responded well to what we've created over the last five years – notably the clean, modern design, the element of customer choice and the simplicity of a future-proof structure which takes away any limitations," Falkingham said.

Row House joins the company's initial Town House, designed by architecture firm ShedKM and launched in 2016 as a configurable, large family home over two or three storeys.

Similarly, ShedKM's designs for Row House provide a host of customisable options starting with a trio of size options.

Modern interiors follow the architectural design by ShedKM

"Row House incorporates the most up-to-date modular thinking and sustainability features," said Ian Killick, director at ShedKM.

"We have made a few big design moves to make the most efficient use of internal space and open up options for outdoor living space. As buyers pick and choose their options, Row House will deliver an eclectic streetscape, with a distinct aesthetic running through it."

The first Row House homes will be built in East Float, Wirral Waters – a new riverside neighbourhood in Merseyside – with bold red cladding designed to complement the area's industrial heritage.

Row House comes in three sizes, the largest of which includes an expansive master suite

The family-sized dwellings come in three sizes occupying the same footprint: two storey; two-and-a-half storey with a roof terrace; and three storey with an expansive master suite.

Individual homes will face onto shared communal gardens and form an undulating streetscape created by the variety of building profiles.

The launch of Row House will be closely followed by Mansion House, a selection of customisable apartments at the waterfront community of New Islington in Manchester – adding an option for one to two occupants to the HUS product range.

Mansion House apartments will overlook Manchester's waterfront New Islington community

Housed within three mid-rise blocks – the first of which is already complete – the one- and two-bedroom apartments have spacious balconies, home-office spaces, and dual-aspect views.

The new buildings are constructed from cross-laminated timber, which also forms the interior finishes for the apartments. Buyers can choose from nine flexible layouts focused around the kitchen, and non-load-bearing inner walls can be moved in the future as needs change.

Alongside Town House, Row House and Mansion House, the company runs a Guest House programme that delivers one-off projects and site-specific solutions. An example is Fab House, designed by George Clarke and TDO Architects, which is sold out at Smith's Dock in North Shields.

Cross-laminated timber acts as the mid-rise buildings' structure and interior finish

HUS is currently researching and developing more products, including affordable options, and larger detached residences.

"As our business grows, economies of scale and a relentless focus on efficiency will flow through to our homeowners," said Simon Humphries, the company's head of product design. "We'll continue to innovate – there will always be new and exciting designs just around the corner."

To learn more about the House by Urban Splash product range, visit the company's website.

Partnership content

This article was written by Dezeen for House by Urban Splash as part of a partnership. Find out more about Dezeen partnership content here.

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