#Perros calientes
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foodaundtheworld · 1 year ago
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panchicha · 2 years ago
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kraniumverse · 2 years ago
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if anyone is curious i cook the hotdogs in water on the stove. yea that's it. takes like 3 minutes
theyre normally all cooked/prepared so we just gotta heat them up
unless theyre chorizos then they go in the water until it starts bubbling and then they go to the pan
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hotdogmexicano · 23 days ago
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How tf did you come up with the greatest username of all time
Quite randomly, derives from an old joke between friends when I made this account over a decade ago.
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sasuhinamonth · 8 months ago
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SASUHINA MONTH 2024 Prompts and Artist of the Year!!!
Fellas.
It's time!
Welcome to 2024! In June, we'll be hosting SHMonth2024! Thanks all for following along with us during our journey! Your patience and enthusiasm keeps us going, and we appreciate all of you!
As always, let's start with our Artist of the Year for 2024!
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Mods of the SasuHina Month Event work hard to not only keep up to date with the happenings of our little part of the fandom, but we also carefully consider all our beautiful SasuHina creators! This year's Artist of the Year is always creating beauty with their works, and we want to shine a light on that!
Everyone, please congratulate Pongalia for her hard work and for being this year's SasuHina Artist of the Year!
Our dear artist always brings awe to everyone who sees her art! As you can see above, she makes the most beautiful, capturing art! Her talent is inspiring, and she's known across the fandom for her beautiful shading!
Please visit her X/Twitter to show her some love! She deserves it for all her hard work and passion!!!!
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Now . . .
The time has come.
As a quick reminder, this years theme is Opposites Attract (very fitting for these two, if you ask us). SasuHina Month 2024 is happening in June, so (hopefully) you all will have some time to think and plan!
Thanks all for joining us!
We present to you: The Prompts of SHMonth2024!
Day 1
Beginnings & Ends | Inicios y Finales
New & Old | Nuevo y Viejo
Day 2
Silly & Serious | Bobo y Serio
Fail & Succeed | Fallo y Éxito
Day 3
Shy & Bold | Tímido y Audaz
Few & Many | Poco y Mucho
Day 4
Summer & Winter | Verano e Invierno
Humble & Proud | Humilde y Orgulloso
Day 5
Create & Destroy | Creación y Destrucción
Crying & Laughter | Llanto y Risas
Day 6
Friend & Enemy | Amigo y Enemigo
Empty & Full | Lleno y Vacío
Day 7
Pearl & Onyx | Perla y Ónix
Dawn & Dusk | Amanecer y Atardecer
Day 8
Hidden & Seen | Oculto y Visto
Loud & Quiet | Ruidoso y Callado
Day 9
Kind & Cruel | Amable y Cruel
Past & Future | Pasado y Futuro
Day 10
Angel & Demon | Inicios y Finales
Rain & Shine | Lluvia y Brillo
Day 11
Lost & Found | Perdido y Hallado
Color & Grayscale | Color y Escala de grises
Day 12
Cat & Dog | Perro y Gato
Tea & Coffee | Té y Café
Day 13
Glass & Stone | Vidrio y Piedra
Yin & Yang | Yin y Yang
Day 14
Early & Late | Temprano y Tarde
Far & Near | Lejano y Cerca
Day 15
Sweet & Bitter | Dulce y Amargo
Bright & Dim | Brillante y Opaco
Day 16
Apart & Together | Separados y Juntos
Deep & Shallow | Profundo y Poco profundo
Day 17
Smooth & Rough | Suave y Áspero
Admit & Deny | Admitir y Negar
Day 18
Freeze & Melt | Congelado y Derretido
Water & Fire | Agua y Fuego
Day 19
Love & Hate | Amor y Odio
Fast & Slow | Rápido y Lento
Day 20
Give & Take | Dar y Recibir
Adult & Child | Adulto y Niño
Day 21
Innocent & Guilty | Inocente y Culpable
Doubt & Trust | Dudar y Confiar
Day 22
War & Peace | Guerra y Paz
Yes & No | Sí y No
Day 23
Neat & Messy | Ordenado y Desordenado
Capture & Release | Capturar y Liberar
Day 24
Flowers & Weapons | Flores y Armas
Oblivious & Observant | Inadvertido y Observador
Day 25
Hot & Cold | Caliente y Frío
Rise & Fall | Ascenso y Caída
Day 26
Tall & Short | Alto y Bajo
Single & Married | Soltero y Casado
Day 27
Thoughtful & Selfish | Considerado y Egoísta
Forget & Remember | Olvidar y Recordar
Day 28
Magical & Ordinary | Mágico y Ordinario
Absence & Present | Ausente y Presente
Day 29
Attack & Protect | Atacar y Proteger
Always & Never | Siempre y Nunca
Day 30
Before & After | Antes y Después
Departure and Arrival | Partida y Llegada
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intimidada · 2 months ago
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*mis perros ladrando de fondo* estuve todo el día caliente y fue el día mas largo del laburo
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weirdworldofwinnie · 1 year ago
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Oasis in a Desperate Land of Dark Desire - Part Six: Lover's Games
Cillian Murphy as J. Robert Oppenheimer x Female Wife Reader NSFW 18+ only
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Summary: You feel a need to follow up with Ernest Lawrence, much to Robert's dismay, and also uncover buried information that makes you turn rather rebellious.
Word Count: ~7,592
Warnings: Martial angst, infidelity, age gap, unwanted advances, slight physical violence, period stereotypical gender roles, clothed sex, some orgasm denial and sexual humiliation
Usual disclaimers apply, obviously NOT based on complete real life historical accuracy. It is essentially very much a dramatization and AU fantasy/fiction with Cillian as Oppenheimer, Josh Hartnett as Ernest Lawrence, Jack Quaid as Richard Feynman, etc. from the film only while other characters are my own entirely made up ones!
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
Part Five
Tag List: @forgottenpeakywriter, @frozenhuntress67, @immyowndefender, @szde8-blog, @bypurple, @irenethewoman, @uniquetacofun, @noirrose21-blog, @gridmouse86, @lacontroller1991, @kishie8, @anime-lover-forever-1127
If you'd like to be added to the list, let me know please.
June 1943
You waited a couple of weeks after the party to move past the point of just taking actual action only in consideration in the sense of springing a scheme by meeting up with Lawrence, keeping Robert under the radar all the while and he himself was certainly distant, (distracted by work of course) but also deliberately choosing to give you space. It was fine, but it made you uneasy of how much he was extracting his emotions and you were starting to feel as if you were on a carpet of thin eggshells every moment you and him were alone together, which was usually only at night sleeping in the same bed.
Weekday dinners were a polite affair as well and you mostly ate for yourself, him eating a portion of his plate before he went to shut himself in his designated office room and came to bed hours into the wee morning. He was gone longer now during the day and one early evening, you found yourself cleaning the house alone with no company or pressing responsibilities to attend to, and you went into his office, rearranging his paperwork and dusting the bookshelves when you decided to take a peek into his desk, knowing he kept many personal writings there. Perhaps a poem or musing that could give an indication of what was happening inside his brain and why you were hitting a cold patch in the marriage.
After sifting through many documents, discarded calculations, and correspondence letters, you finally found his dearest belongings buried in the bottom drawer. You knew several of these, for they were cards - birthday, anniversary, well-wishers from the wedding - and some of your own (love poems, really) that you had exchanged with him and even simple notes of wanting to meet for dinner, a party, vacation at his Perro Caliente ranch, anything that merited invitation. You grew teary at a few, oddly nostalgic even though it was only a couple of years ago. But this project had somehow changed everything out of alignment.
A thin stack of folded papers wedged in-between a Valentine's Day card from you last year and inside an envelope that had a wax heart the color of dried blood stamped on it caught your attention and you carefully peeled the corners back to extract the papers, which looked to be three separate pieces creased into halves. You took the one on top and unfolded it to reveal a letter. It had no formal or informal greeting and you blinked, reading the words in your husband's scrawling cursive handwriting. The first few lines seemed more like a diary entry than anything else until you read further...
Well, I am wearier lately than anyone could possibly guess because I have grown adept at adopting a mask of confidence and optimism. But it is a foolish man's desire to remain unchanged and hopeful in his situations that require more than words to express... I know you understand the moody tides well, my love, and I often wonder if you are feeling the bluing void edging on again as you often do, verging on the whole of complete consumption. Though it would be more appropriate to call it black as death itself; blue has been wrongly shamed in this case, although you could drown in my eyes.
Safe to say, I very much miss your presence and touch, the way you find comfort in me as if we are beyond mortal man and woman. Naturally, there are other parts of me that yearn for you as well, but I'm sure you could pinpoint exactly what. It wouldn't be proper to state it here, although I will never be sending this to you Jean. I sincerely hope you never read this because if you do, that means the war is ongoing and I have not evolved past this spout of melancholy. It is hard to determine the future when oneself is so pegged on the past and present... I feel as though I am stuck between the slides. How do I let myself be with you and yet here all at once? You feel light years away from me, though it is only a mere thousand miles, isn't it? I feel closer to the dying stars than compared to my active obligations here on Earth.
"Don't be an idiot, Robert, and alienate the few people who most understand you because one day you might need them." I can hear you say it now and I'm afraid I did exactly that to you but for reasons more monumental than myself. I thank you for being understanding over the phone, but I must remain in this slide while you are busy in your own microcosm of the world and it is easier to miss you, but I should place a bet against myself to see exactly how long this separation lasts. If you'll have me, I look forward to loving you in two or three year's time. I hope by then I do not fall out of the concept of love entirely and with an expiration date instead because that would be a tremendous dissatisfaction if you found another bull who could never match my (nor your) intellect. He would never deserve such a naughty angel as yourself and I myself won't let you linger past my mind too much longer, I promise.
Forever yours (or not, though I hope the prior),
Robert
He had added a postscript, written in original Sanskrit from The Bhagavad Gita and you squinted, seeing familiarity. You jumped up and went to the bookshelves, seeking out his copy and thumbing through the pages, finding the scripture that matched his handwriting and you recognized the passage as he had shown and translated it to you once.
And now I am become Death, the destroyer of worlds.
Why the fuck would he add that in as a PS in a pining love letter to his ex-girlfriend?
You put the book back and went to sit down on the floor beside his desk with the letter and other ones, which you dreaded opening in case they were more in the tone of lovesickness about Jean. You felt stunned and yet at the same time, unsurprised as if this was to be expected and maybe it was. It further proved that Robert hadn't completely emotionally filed Jean away as you'd thought and was planning on loving her again someday... Or he had just been really, really drunk when he composed this, but you highly doubted it.
Hands shaking, you set that letter aside gingerly as if it contained a deadly chemical and picked up a second folded piece of paper. When you opened it, you audibly gasped.
My Kitty,
I do hope you are well and pursuing a better life for yourself in the useful field of biology. Forgive me, I must be ridden with a fever, but wouldn't it be fortuitous if we perchance crossed paths in San Francisco one summer day? My flamboyant impossible imagination has flooded me again, so I'll indulge here: I'd see you out shopping and hopefully you would be with only female company (I take it your husband would be working, unless you have divorced) and we could strike up a conversation that led us to my Cadillac parked in the shadows of the shade, and I'd let you take refuge from the heat as my passenger and then I'd take your beautiful hand...
He had deeply scratched out the rest, but you could definitely make out a few lines of erotic poetry. In reaction, you bit your bottom lip so hard you nearly drew blood, and then reached for the last one, which was not a letter in the traditional sense, but more of a hastily scribbled note on an index card.
I need to see you soon. From one 'R' to another, you always have me at my truest regards.
You angrily swore aloud and started crumple this note, but paused. If you confronted him about it, this could blow up for both of you and you couldn't have that right now in the midst of life here for the project. No one was or could get divorced, that was not an option. No, you had to keep this secret and try to get back at him more stealthily. Robert clearly loved other women too much, that was it, and this was tangible of that. Enough was enough and it spurred on you to see the fellow you'd been avoiding since the party.
The next day, you went to Technical Area 1 and walked towards one of lab buildings, immediately noticed by the soldiers on guard and they came over, shaking their heads at you and your security clearance button, lower than permitted in such a site. You'd had to sweet talk your way just past the fencing to get to this point, but these particular hardened men didn't look swayable.
"I need to speak with my husband, it's urgent. Please," you begged dramatically, wringing your hands, and the men glanced at one another.
"He's preoccupied with his colleagues now, but we'll be sure to let him know about whatever it is, Mrs. Oppenheimer."
You pursed your lips, realizing they weren't going to let you just waltz into the building without an extremely good excuse, which you couldn't say.
"Fine. Good day, sirs." You walked far away from them and they went back to their business as you glanced around inconspicuously for an alternative entrance, going to another side. You found an unoccupied back door and hurried towards it, heart picking up pace.
"What are you doing?" a male voice called shrewdly from nearby behind.
"Shit," you muttered, whipping around to see a very suspicious Officer Nichols standing several feet away. Thankfully though, he was solitary.
"I'll have to report this, you know," he warned as you backed towards the shut door, forcing a big smile.
"Or what? You'll shoot me for finding my own husband?"
"Depends on the context. Dr. Oppenheimer is a very busy man and I'm sure he has much better to do with his limited time than to entertain his diligent token housewife."
You flushed angrily, feeling for the doorknob and of course it was locked.
"I swear to God I'm not doing anything else but speaking to him. I hardly know squat about quantum mechanics and the nature of his work," you lied, trying to appear absolutely innocent.
"Then what is so important you need to interrupt proceedings?" Officer Nichols asked sharply, coming closer.
"It's a highly urgent personal matter."
"I see." He paused, darting his eyes up and down the length of your body for a second before he spoke curiously.
"You haven't physically left The Hill since your arrival, is that correct?"
"Yes...?" you replied, unsure of where he was going with this.
Nichols stared at you for a moment through his glasses glinting in the midday sun and you looked back, locked in a strange thirty second unnerving silence of equilibrium. Finally he moved, stepping forward and nodding.
"I'll personally make sure that you never do."
"But no, I... I was planning on going shopping for supplies with some of the ladies this weekend in Santa Fe?"
He was silent and you were surprised when he took out a ringlet of keys, going to unlock the door.
"We all must make sacrifices, Mrs. Oppenheimer, and I'm sure your husband would agree. This is your reward for the loss of such a privilege, so go now before I change my mind and report you to General Groves."
You quickly darted inside without a backward glance, heart thudding in aftermath of the interaction. Did he really mean that? Would he get in trouble if someone found out? Or more importantly, would you get in a tight spot for sneaking around?
You strode through the maze of hallways past lab rooms, offices, and the like until you heard dull voices up ahead and saw Robert's back, face to the chalkboard, through a half-cracked door. The scientists turned to stare when they heard your heels come to a halt in the doorway, looking away from their paperwork and the blackboard. The awkward silence was deafening; a pin could drop at any moment and a man coughed, just to relieve the stagnant air. The lone female physicist of the group, Dr. Lilli Hornig, gave you a curious look with a quick polite smile as she scribbled something on a piece of paper. Robert froze with a cigarette in one hand and a piece of whittled chalk in the other, his blues boring into your face out of sheer shock.
"Y/N, what are you doing here? Is something wrong?"
"No. I merely need to borrow that man right there for a moment of time. It's a personal matter," you announced crisply, pointing straight at Ernest Lawrence, whose expression morphed from surprise and to utter bemusement.
"Excuse me, then," he muttered and stood up, shuffling papers self consciously before making his way to you, moving down the hallway. You randomly led him to an empty storage room and opened the door, lightly pushing him inside.
"What are you doing?" he asked empathically as you faced him in the middle of the room, steadying yourself as you looked up at him, unaccustomed to being so close to a man considerably taller and bulkier than Robert's physicalie.
"Remember a couple weeks ago in May at last month's party?" you asked briskly and his brow furrowed in realization.
"Admittedly, not as much as I should. Oppie jokingly mentioned the next day afterwards about needing to restrict the amount liquor we're consuming at the house when you're hosting because we're not frat boys," he replied with an honest shrug.
"Do you recall that kiss you gave me out of the blue?"
His face flexed, eyebrows shooting up as his mouth twitched in guilty humor and you narrowed your eyes.
"Yes, perhaps a bit of it. In my defense though, I wasn't quite all there and there was talk going around, silly talk. I was dared into doing it, actually."
Now your own eyebrows mimicked his at this confession and you stepped closer, toe-to-toe with his shoes.
"Who dared you?"
"Promise to keep it to yourself?"
"Sure."
"Richard was the instigator and then the rest of the guys coaxed him on. Absolute ridiculousness we never would have done otherwise, I swear to you it's the high altitude of this place having an effect on our immature raucous behavior combined with alcohol."
"Feynman? The rascal, I could've guessed," you rolled your eyes disapprovingly and he sighed, shifting slightly on his feet.
"I really do apologize for the regrettable behavior, I sincerely promise it won't happen again," he told you seriously and you cocked your head slightly, giving him a once-over.
"Do you find me attractive?"
Lawrence immediately grew reserved and reluctant, making a grimace.
"Oh, I... I, oh no, I don't think it would be permissible to answer that."
"Go ahead. I dare you."
He swallowed nervously and came close with intimidation, making you stagger back all the way to the wall behind you, where he placed a hand up on it by your head, leaning in intimately and his warm breath tickled your cheeks.
"Yes, I suppose. But I'm happily married and certainly not looking for trouble or to wreck your own marriage. You must think I'm a very lousy friend," he admitted quietly.
"I think you underestimate me, Doctor," you whispered, nearly a purr, as you moved close and brushed his cheek with your fingers. He tried to speak, but you shushed him and gently removed his glasses, letting them dangle in your grip as you tilted into him, pressing your other hand firmly to his broad chest, squeezing the fabric of his vest.
Footsteps suddenly sounded from the hall outside, so you made it fast, giving Ernest a fast peck on the lips, just in time as then the door briskly yanked open and Robert poked his head in dubiously. You leaned back, still holding the glasses and Lawrence fumbled for them, accidentally interlocking fingers as your husband stared in confused disbelief.
"Y/N? What is the meaning of all this? We have work to do, why are you taking up his time?"
"Oppie, it's fine, we were just..." Ernest paused, readjusting rims of the glasses back on his face and he turned to you, a bit breathless.
"What were we talking about exactly?"
"All your great achievements, including the Nobel Prize, in contributing to the advancement of science, most notably your famous cyclotron and I was inquiring about the exact mechanics of how such a thing works. Something along the lines of high energy particles and acceleration...?"
"Right, because you were going to write to your father, who is curious about it," he caught on, proliferating this cock-and-bull conversation.
"And why do you need to interrupt our work about that? Aren't you supposed to elsewhere?" Robert asked, not hiding annoyance in plain sight. You could feel Ernest staring, gaze locked on you and your stomach butterflied, but you gave a brave face.
"You mean my womanly duties at home?" you snapped back.
"Yes, or however you may call it. Now, we need our physicist back if you'll pardon me." He beckoned Lawrence urgently and the man reluctantly pulled himself away from you, clearly ashamed and flustered. Once he was out of the room, Robert stepped inside and shut the door closed with snap. His face was taunt and irritated, fingers habitually fiddling for the ghost of a cigarette.
"What are you playing at here?" he demanded, already hurt without any explanation.
"Just a follow up to our last meeting," you said causally enough to anger him. He crossed to meet you in two strides, catching your wrist and lifting up your arm, interlacing his fingers very tightly with yours as he spoke lowly, intensively.
"What is the matter, am I not giving you enough? Do I not provide enough for you? You feel an urge to court my best man and colleague all of a sudden because you are bored of your humdrum domesticity? Is that what you love about Los Alamos, the fine selection of like-minded substitutes once you tire of me? Am I not enough?" His voice raised before he caught himself, releasing a shaky breath. He was genuinely upset and you felt rotten, but only for a second. It's not like he was clean in this either.
"Don't be ridiculous. I swear, you always assume the worst of me," you scoffed in response.
"Well, I certainly know a cheat when I see one," he said bitterly, twisting his fingers out of yours and dropping his arm.
"Yes, you would know indeed. But Jesus, Robert, he's only a friend, your friend I might add, and it was only a bit of fun, nothing serious. You said it yourself, it's good for him to loosen up. What else are parties for?"
"Right. Oh, yes, I'm sure that's exactly it," he replied sarcastically.
"He started it, you know, after Richard dared him to kiss me apparently at the party."
"Then I'll be speaking to both of them. But you need to stop it, quit acting so childish and inappropriate over this. You're smarter than this shtick and there is too much at stake to be partaking in silly juvenile romantic games."
"You do realize I'm at least fifteen years younger than you, right? You can't expect me to be, well, whatever it is called to be at your age. Old, is it?" you mocked and normally that would've sounded very rude in any other situation, but he knew your sharp side all too well to take it too seriously, especially when delivered with a teasing smile.
"You couldn't think of a worse slander than 'old'?" he scoffed, unimpressed, and you snorted, tapping the knot of his tie affectionately.
"The point is, I am indeed younger than you."
"So? I have no issue with that and you have proved yourself very capable of co-existence so far, I think you are quite mature for your age actually, at least until now... But I don't think biological age matters in love."
"I was just over eighteen when you began courting me and you used to flirt with your few female physics students that were no older," you reminded him and he diverted his gaze, tapping his foot anxiously and he distractedly flicked out a cigarette from his pocket pack, lighting it in a second and puffing in response. You stepped back from the plume of smoke, glancing towards the window and crossing your arms. He exhaled loudly and jerked his hand to point the cigarette at you and then spoke with ultimatum.
"I don't want to see you enter this laboratory with the intention of unnecessary interruption ever again. I will tell the officers outside to stop and restrain you if you do. Hell, I'll take these matters to the General if I have to, you hear me on that?"
"I certainly do as a matter of fact and I also know for a fact that you'd be wasting his time. Petty marriage squabbles isn't a high priority or forte for a high-ranking military man like him. But as for you, well, now you know what it feels like to be jeopardized over another human being," you countered.
"My ties are very different and I would never think to do it so publicly! I am discreet about such internal, highly private business," he exclaimed, getting frustrated with this discussion and this made you laugh humorlessly.
"Bullshit and you know that. I saw you a week before our wedding walking hand in hand with Jean down Shasta Road and what about that time afterwards when our friends saw you dancing with-"
He quickly talked louder, running over your words heatedly.
"No, no, no. You are just feeding into this ridiculousness and fabricating a relationship that isn't there!"
"Maybe so, but I thought it would be a good lesson, or test, for you and if this is any indicator, you've been bothered. I take heart in that you must love me so that it has unnerved you to see me with another man."
"There was never any doubt that I love you. Christ, if that's what this is all about..." He sighed, rubbing his creased forehead briefly before walking backwards to the door, opening it up and you could hear the dull chatter of voices from the other room.
"Well?" you asked when he didn't do anything, just standing with hands on his hips.
"I want you to do whatever it is that pleasures you, just as long as it doesn't happen to be luring my top physicist and close friend in a back room during the middle of a workday. Have some standard decency for God's sake," he spat, the words stinging, and you crystalized, uncrossing your arms and shaking your head at the hypocrisy.
"I never noticed it until we came here, but Ruth sure has your attention, doesn't she?"
"Pardon?" He blinked.
"You heard me."
"Ruthie has nothing to do with this and how dare you drag her name through your muddled mood today."
"Ruthie?" You rolled your eyes at clear affection underlying his tone.
"Listen to yourself Robert, you have feelings for her, you've always been close."
"She's a very dear friend, one of the few people I can truly confide in and share my emotions with, nothing more," he insisted.
"Am I part of that select number of confidants?"
"Of, of course. Has our entire marriage been for naught? I cannot believe your attitude over this, it's deplorable."
"It must be very nice to be you, Robert. No one here in Los Alamos casts open judgement upon you," you commented bitterly and he cringed, closing his eyes for a brief moment before staring back at you.
"Not yet, anyway," he answered with a tone of cryptic ominousness and you only frowned, shoving past him to exit the building.
A full twenty four hours passed without further incident until you haphazardly ran into Feynman on the street, just the man you were looking for.
"Richard?"
"Yeah?" He stopped and gave you a familiar cocky smile which dropped at the narrowed eyes and serious expression you were giving him.
"Oh, is this about the party? I didn't think he'd even do it, I apologize for our frivolousness that night. Clearly very unacceptable." He cleared his throat awkwardly and you leaned close, speaking in a low murmur.
"Do me a favor?"
"Uh, sure...?"
"I have an assignment for you: Find me a single man - preferably scientist - in this town, anyone remotely attractive will do, but no close friends or direct colleagues of Robert's, it has to be at least second or third tier from his inner circle and single - I'm not crossing into some other woman's territory - and arrange me a date with him in secret. Think of it as an experimental equation: One attempted devoted wife plus one all-but-labeled womanizer husband plus unsuspecting stag. It's time to give someone a taste of his own sweet and sour medicine."
"Oh, you feel like causing a scandal, do you? It won't take a mathematician to see what it'll will add up to." He chuckled in disbelief but then dropped his voice, casting wary glances around at passing residents, or civilians, as everyone who was non-military were officially called.
"Are you quite sure about this?"
"If I let my conscience speak, then no. But if I let every other fiber of my being, then yes. Will you do it?"
"I... I can't, no, this is beneath us," he protested, scratching the back of his neck in discomfort.
"It's one event at a casual party, it's quite another outside... Well, you know. Real tampering with people's lives has consequences and I'm not sure I'm the man for this job, I think if maybe, it-"
"I'll pay you," you interrupted quickly and he quirked an eyebrow and leaned closer.
"How much?" he whispered curiously.
"Twenty?"
"Make it 100 and you've got yourself a deal. I'll do it and you can pay me later at your convenience. Now excuse me, but I have some business elsewhere."
He hurried off and there was no further word until one early morning you came into the kitchen as Robert was dressing his toast and brewing coffee, and you were surprised to see a bouquet of long stemmed red roses on the table. Naturally, you looked to him as his habit of flower gifting was infamous, but he was staring just as confounded as you were. He seemed positively rattled, in fact.
"Did you...?" he asked and you echoed that same question.
"Did you?"
"No, I haven't been flower picking as of late," he replied dryly with a taut closed smile and then it dawned on you. Could it be from the mystery date you'd sent Feynman to set up?
"I'll put them in the living room, shall I? They'll get the strong afternoon light that will illuminate their velvety rouge petals," you expressed and he nodded emotionlessly, turning back to the toast and grabbing the pot of coffee.
Once you were alone in the lounge, you carefully inspected the flowers; they were beautiful and fairly fresh, only one or two were curling at the tips from the heat and as you held it up to admire, there was a small square piece of paper taped on the bottom of the skinny glass vase: It was a thin note, reading of a scrambled code of some sorts. You smirked, knowing it had to be Feynman who did this; he was always writing letters in code to his ailing sweetheart stuck in Albuquerque.
"Y/N, have you seen my badge? It's gone missing!" Robert called anxiously from the kitchen and you quickly tore the note off the bottom and tucked it into your pajamas.
"You probably left it on the dresser," you called back to him absentmindedly.
Once he left for the day, you sat down and worked to crack the code, which wasn't terribly hard considering it was predictable; boiling down to an address, date and time. You'd hoped for a name of the mystery gentleman, but didn't seem to get one.
That evening, you dressed in one of your finest silk dresses, red in color as the roses, and made your way to the bachelor's dormitory on the other side of town. You technically weren't allowed to be transversing around here, especially at this hour, and you cringed at a couple of catcalling whistles from young drunken men loitering outside. You ignored them, hurrying up the stairs to the mystery man's dorm and knocked once. The door opened, almost cautiously, and a decent looking young man stood there, his short brunette hair combed back and he wore a well pressed suit but with a blue tie slightly out of alignment.
"Good evening, Ma'am," he greeted in a pleasant voice and you automatically blushed, staring into his eyes which were a very watered-down literation of Robert's own blues; if his were the ocean, this man's were a lake on a grey skied afternoon and it made you feel a tad sad about doing this. Of course no man's eyes could ever quite compare.
"Hello...?" you trailed off, needing a name to this blind date of yours.
"My name is Anthony, Mrs. Oppenheimer."
"Pleasure to meet you and please, that makes me sound old and tethered. Just call me Y/N."
He nodded, stepping aside and you went inside, closing the door behind you as you surveyed the somewhat neat living quarters consisting of basic furniture and scattered paperwork and magazines.
"I apologize if this is rather awkward, but I take it Richard gave you the details?"
"More or less," Anthony answered and the way he was ogling at you wasn't so much like piece of meat, but out of respect and disbelief that he had actually had a date with the wife of the top dog scientific director of Los Alamos.
"Would you care for a drink? I just have, uh, scotch if that's alright. Probably different from what you're used to," he murmured the last part and you assured him quickly it was alright.
"Yes I would, thank you."
He handed a half filled glass to you gently and you noticed his hands were trembling slightly.
"You don't have to be nervous, I'm really not all that remarkable. I may have my husband's name, but I'm certainly not him, you know. We all bask in the long reaching shade of Oppie, don't we?"
"Right, of course," he chuckled, offering you a seat on the sofa and taking a sip of his own, regarding you impressively.
"Have you ever been with a woman before?" you asked tenderly and he shrugged, still rather timid.
"I was dating a girl back in college but we broke off right before I signed onto the project."
"How old are you?"
"Twenty four," he answered.
"Good, not younger than me; I suppose we are perhaps compatible then in that respect. You don't need to hear my life story, but I was a year in studying medicine at Stanford until this and now I suppose I'm just another housewife at the moment." You sighed, taking a small sip and nodding at him pleasantly.
"So what do you do here, generally? I take it you aren't one of the boys in Oppie's so-called cult?"
"No, I'm an engineer actually. I work in one of the labs, hands on, none of that theoretical bunch."
You nodded approvingly and there was a lapse of silence until he gestured with his glass, sloshing the liquid slightly.
"So I take it you're quite unhappy with... with Dr. Oppenheimer if you wanted to meet with another man?" he asked cautiously, disguising excitement.
"No questions, if you don't mind. I'm not here to talk about him," you replied seriously and he nodded fervently, setting the drink down on the side table.
"Yes, right. I apologize. I guess that doesn't leave much formalities then." He paused, swiping his tongue across his lips.
"I'd like to kiss you if that's not rushing too much," he proposed politely, but with a tone of urgency.
"Go right ahead." You braced as he leaned in, inches from your lips and you shared air for a second before he plunged forward, groping your mouth fast and lightly. But it felt all so wrong. You lightly pulled back, his hands not even holding your face like Robert always did so there wasn't much real intimacy, and glanced to the floor self consciously.
"I'm sorry, I can't do this," you murmured guiltily. Maybe it wasn't even your conscience; maybe he just wasn't the right guy.
"But I thought you wanted it...?" Anthony's brows furrowed in hurt confusion and offense, so you quickly backpedaled.
"Not here, we can't do anything here. How about... Do you want to come over to my home?" you blurted out abruptly and he swallowed.
"But is-isn't your husband home?"
"That's the point."
Gathering courage for the both of you, Anthony then stood and took your hand to walk you to the door, leading you out down to the street level and the two of you walked all the way to Bathtub Row together. You could tell he was in awe of these homes that were larger and much better constructed.
"So this is how the other side lives." Anthony gave a low whistle and you laughed, bumping his side gently.
"Don't worry. We use the same water, electricity, and plumbing as you do, it's just a little more glamorous and I promise you anyone living in Los Alamos to work on the project is not substandard or lower class, even if the military may be rather degrading at times. It's all just a socially constructed hierarchy."
He squeezed your waist affectionately and you led him to the house, telling him to wait by the shrubs as you walked around to peer into the windows to see if Robert was still up, which you'd be surprised if he wasn't, and indeed he was: reclining in an armchair by the fireplace, reading and puffing on his pipe.
You signaled to Anthony to come closer and he crossed the yard to stand by the side of the house, appearing wary. He mouthed 'do you see him?' and you nodded, turning your back to the window and beckoned to him to move close. He carefully did so until he was a few inches from your face and you swallowed at the intimacy, the daring nerve to kiss a man right in front of the windowpanes where your husband sat in the living room.
"Kiss me, but passionately this time, no holding back. Just pretend it's only the two of us, okay?" you whispered and he breathed in, parting lips.
"Is this a dream?" he whispered and you giggled lightly, straddling his body and cupping the back of his neck, hairs bristling your fingers.
"Only if you want it to be, but no telling anyone when you wake up, understand?"
"No one would believe me... I feel as though I'm about to commit a great sin against the Oppenheimer unity, I can't believe I'm going to do this," he admitted with a dark chuckle.
"I can," you breathed and before you knew it, his lips connected to yours and the kiss was actually amazingly passionate indeed for two people who just personally met tonight. You breathed in his musky scent and intertwined tongues, smooshing noses and you felt him push you up against the window, arms embracing you whole and you secretly hoped it would eventually catch Robert's attention. Your intention was just one full kiss, but now this man had you, he seemed reluctant to let go as you began to lean back from his mouth, head lightly conking against the window. Anthony groped your breasts hungrily and you felt his hard-on pressing against your thigh as your bodies rubbed, the kissing becoming sloppier and for a moment, you completely forgot what you'd done this for. A faint yell came from somewhere and Anthony grew more attached, tightening his grasp on your frame, kissing harder and you started to feel a slight wetness in your panties.
"Stop! Get off of her! Please, that's my wife!" Robert's voice called in audible distress and you realized this must look a lot worse than it was, and you had to admit this man was getting a bit rougher as his more primal desire came to fruition and you grunted, turning your head and trying to wriggle out from underneath his locking embrace.
"That's enough, enough," you murmured anxiously, but he wasn't stopping.
"You said this could be my dream, can't ya let me finish first?" Anthony growled in your ear, but you were done, having successfully alarmed your husband. This wasn't meant to go further and quite frankly, you were unnerved how quickly it had escalated. He wasn't quite the shy gentleman scientist anymore once he was aroused, but you supposed these types of adventures did bring out the animalistic behavior in most after all.
Simple souls, Robert had said once of human beings.
Unfortunately, he was now witness to such a 'simple man' about to take you right on the windows of his stone and log cabin style house.
"STOP THAT NOW!" Robert yelled off to the right and you felt Anthony being forcefully tugged away, his arm flailing out and trying to grasp, catching your hair and you winced as he accidentally yanked painfully.
You were suddenly released and you gasped, sidestepping and watching in shock as Robert tried to jump on the man, his belt removed from his waist and gripped tightly in his hands as he wrestled it aggressively around Anthony's neck, constricting with enough force to make him gag and choke.
"Robert, no!" you shouted, rushing forward and attempting to pull him away, but it was as if he were deaf to the wind.
"I demand you to LEAVE my property at once and to NEVER see my wife, or this won't end on civilized terms," he threatened loudly and you'd never seen such a fire in his piercing eyes before. It intrigued and frightened you, considering he was not a brute in any sense. Anthony pleaded through his choking, whimpering pathetically, until Robert finally backed off, snapping the belt and huffing.
The other man stumbled up to his feet and held up his hands in surrender as Robert squinted in the dark, trying to fully identify him.
"I'm terribly apologetic Dr. Oppenheimer, sir, I won't bother you or the Mrs. anymore, I'll be right on my way!"
Anthony ran like a bat out of hell from the property and once it was silent, Robert turned to you with heavy breaths, the belt hanging limply at his side. You took one look and then rushed inside in the house, kicking off your heels in the hallway and dashing into the bedroom, slamming the door, heart pounding a sprint.
Moments later, you heard his clodding footsteps and anxious voice calling out desperately, the door bursting open.
"Jesus Christ, are you alright?" he gasped as you shrunk away from him, still feeling Anthony's hands all over you and the whole guilt imploded, resulting in a sudden overflow of tears.
"Fuck, Robert! It's all my fault, I told Richard Feynman to set us up and I told Anthony to come here as a show to make you jealous and it advanced, I promise he meant no harm, we just wanted-"
"You did this on purpose?" he interrupted, betrayal lighting his features and you wiped messily at the tears streaming down your own.
"Yes! I kissed him on purpose! I wanted to spite you, I'm sorry but I cannot handle this anymore! I wanted to hurt and infuriate you like you do to me with your blatant love of other women! I bribed Richard $100 for a date with a single scientist, I didn't know what I'd get, but I'm glad you saw us together, it is only fair when I have to read love letters to past girlfriends... or are they just current 'friends'?!"
His mouth gaped and the frown lines appeared, creasing his forehead in prudent anger.
"The audacity... I suppose I indeed underestimated you, my sweet Aphrodite," he said lowly, voice a low rumble and despite everything you actually felt a shiver of arousal in your core.
In two strides, he met you at the foot of the bed, grabbing your head in a vice and in a bizarrely dominant twist, pinned you down to the bed, trapping you underneath him and yet you saw the uncertainty flicker. He was pretending to be so dominant, but couldn't take the reins fully.
Oh, Oppie.
"Roll over," you ordered sharply and he did, collapsing onto his back as you unbuttoned his pants and yanked them down hastily, staring at his cock straining against his boxers. You placed your palm on it, teasing him and he moaned softly, shaking his head at the deviousness on your face.
"No, please. Please, let me out, please don't do this, please..."
Begging. He was actually begging. After he just had attacked a man outside and was reeling from your confession, he was here at an embarrassingly burgeoning erection.
"I'm so close that I don't need you inside me, but I think you need a bit more help, is that right?" you whispered condescendingly and he gulped, eyes wide dilated marbles.
"I'm sorry about all of it, I never meant t-to-" he sputtered off as you clapped a hand to his mouth and you straddled his body, legs quivering with anticipation.
His penis grew harder and a clear wet stain bled through the fabric, causing him to squirm underneath you and you smiled, bumping up and grinding against clothed erection. You yelped at the sudden rush of internal pleasure and his hands gripped your dress at the hips, gasping along with your heaves and whines, but he himself was yet to peak. He seemed mortified as you then sat back and placed firm hands down on his crotch, holding his bulge tightly. He groaned, mortified as you wouldn't let him go, and after stretching him out to his limits for too long, a single squeeze brought him to a full climax, absolutely soaking his boxers and he threw his head back on the pillow, reveling in the orgasm.
Panting, you climbed off him and he weakly sat up, holding out a hand with the other on his wet crotch in sheer humiliation. You left the bed, gathering your appearance and catching breath.
"No, don't... Don't leave," he requested desperately from his spot on the bed and you shook your head, tousling hair as you glanced over at him.
"Clean up your own mess, darling," you told him firmly, a metaphor as much as a literal one.
He sighed, swinging legs off the bed and hobbling off to the bathroom as you began to undress, slipping out of the dress and into a bedtime robe.
He came back in, clean but utterly naked, and his dick was still dripping a smidge at the tip.
"You very much ruined a good pair of my underwear," he complained and you merely shrugged, patting the bed as you crawled in and he joined, scooting under the sheets and pulling you close, resting his forehead at yours, speaking in a mutter.
"You just had to stoop low with that male 'catch' of yours, didn't you?"
"That's not very nice, darling. Anthony seemed like a nice man and he's an engineer, I'll have you know."
"He isn't a third of the man I am."
"No one is you, Robert. That's why I went to another man in the first place."
"I truly wanted to suffocate the life out of him, I would have maimed him quite seriously had I lacked control. I haven't thought of doing such a terrible action since my Cambridge episodes, my terrible fits of jealousy... I suppose I expressed protection over you," he mused grimly.
"It's the thought that counts," you commented darkly.
"I can be so impulsive and erratic... You and everyone knows quite well how I was going to poison my tutor; I had injected potassium cyanide in the body of that innocent apple and left it on his desk..."
You remembered it had been Jean who had offhandedly first mentioned this story to you and she had assured you it was only because he was going through a very difficult phase in his life and actually all he needed to feel fulfilled was to just "get laid" as she aptly put it. Funnily enough, 'getting laid' was the least of Robert's problems now.
He took your hand at the moment and grasped too hard, squeezing your fingers, leaning towards you anxiously and speaking urgently.
"Listen, and I mean this very much: Don't ever see another man, I don't think I can do this again without gravely spraining my heart."
"And your enormous ego," you added the obvious with a small smile and he returned it, also giving you a light kiss on the cheek and cuddling in close.
"I love you," he offered gently and you shot him a glance, unable to hide the blushing smirk.
"Touché."
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jartita-me-teneis · 5 months ago
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EN LOS AÑOS 1600 Y 1700
Al visitar el Palacio de Versalles en París,
se observa que el suntuoso palacio no tiene baños.
En la Edad Media, no había cepillos de dientes, perfumes, desodorantes,
y mucho menos papel higiénico.
Los excrementos humanos eran lanzados por las ventanas del palacio.
En un día de fiesta, la cocina del palacio pudo preparar un banquete para 1500 personas,
sin la más mínima higiene.
En las películas actuales vemos a las personas de esa época sacudirse o abanicarse...
La explicación no está en el calor, sino en el mal olor que emitían debajo de las faldas (que fueron hechas a propósito para contener el olor de las partes íntimas, ya que no había higiene). Tampoco era costumbre ducharse debido al frío y la casi inexistencia de agua corriente.
Solo los nobles tenían lacayos para abanicarlos,
para disipar el mal olor que exhalaban el cuerpo y la boca,
además de ahuyentar a los insectos.
Los que han estado en Versalles han admirado los enormes y hermosos jardines que, en ese momento,
no solo se contemplaban, sino que se usaban como retrete en las famosas baladas promovidas por la monarquía,
porque no había baños.
En la Edad Media, la mayoría de las bodas se realizaban en junio (para ellas, el comienzo del verano).
La razón es simple: el primer baño del año se tomaba en mayo; así que en junio, el olor de la gente todavía era tolerable.
Sin embargo, como algunos olores ya comenzaban a molestar,
las novias llevaban ramos de flores cerca de sus cuerpos para cubrir el hedor.
De ahí la explicación del origen del ramo de novia.
Los baños se tomaban en una sola bañera enorme llena de agua caliente.
El jefe de la familia tenía el privilegio del primer baño en agua limpia.
Luego, sin cambiar el agua, llegaban los demás en la casa, en orden de edad, mujeres, también por edad y, finalmente, niños.
Los bebés eran los últimos en bañarse. Cuando llegaba su turno, el agua en la bañera estaba tan sucia que era posible matar a un bebé adentro.
Los techos de las casas no tenían cielo y las vigas de madera que los sostenían eran el mejor lugar para que los animales:
perros, gatos, ratas y escarabajos se mantuvieran calientes.
Cuando llovía, las filtraciones obligaban a los animales a saltar al suelo.
Los que tenían dinero tenían platos de lata. Ciertos tipos de alimentos oxidaban el material, causando que muchas personas mueran por envenenamiento.
Recordemos que los hábitos higiénicos de la época eran terribles.
Los tomates, siendo ácidos, se consideraron venenosos durante mucho tiempo, las tazas de lata se usaban para beber cerveza o whisky; esta combinación, a veces, dejaba al individuo "en el piso" (en una especie de narcolepsia inducida por la mezcla de bebida alcohólica con óxido de estaño).
Alguien que pasara por la calle pensaría que estaba muerto, así que recogían el cuerpo y se preparaba para el funeral.
Luego se colocaba el cuerpo sobre la mesa de la cocina durante unos días y la familia se quedaba mirando, comiendo, bebiendo y esperando a ver si el muerto se despertaba o no.
De ahí la que a los muertos se les vela (velatorio o velorio), que es la vigilia al lado del ataúd.
Inglaterra es un país pequeño, donde no siempre había lugar para enterrar a todos los muertos.
Luego se abrían los ataúdes, se extraían los huesos, se colocaban en osarios y la tumba se usaba para otro cadáver.
A veces, al abrir los ataúdes, se notaba que había rasguños en las tapas en el interior, lo que indicaba que el hombre muerto, de hecho, había sido enterrado vivo.
Así, al cerrar el ataúd, surgió la idea de atar una tira de la muñeca del difunto, pasarla por un agujero hecho en el ataúd y atarla a una campana.
Después del entierro, alguien quedaba de servicio junto a la tumba durante unos días.
Si el individuo se despertaba, el movimiento de su brazo haría sonar la campana.
Y sería "salvado por la campaña", una expresión utilizada por nosotros hasta hoy.
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aphroditeslover11 · 1 year ago
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The Feynman Affair
Here is the result of the poll from the other day.
A/N: As usual, everybody in this is fictionalised and based on the performances of the actors in the Nolan movie, if you don’t want to read this I am not forcing you so please simply scroll on. I am not brooking any arguments, most of us on here are just doing are here for fun, not confrontation. If you do want to read it however, welcome, I promise I’m not always this grumpy!
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Warnings: period typical attitudes, alcohol consumption, suspicion of adultery, angst but a happy ending.
Your relationship with Robert was the best thing that could ever have happened to either of you, though you both acknowledged that it was bizarre in its beginnings. You were a political science student at Berkeley that he had met just before the war had started and whisperings had begun about he production of the ‘gadget’. You had hit things off really quickly and when Groves started talking about moving work to a more secure, remote facility Oppie knew immediately that he wanted to keep you by his side. He asked you to marry him shortly after that, having taken you to New Mexico to spend a few days just the pair of you at his ranch Perro Caliente. He was open with you about what was going to happen next in his life and that he knew Groves would let you nowhere near the project unless you were a married couple. You were anxious at first, Robert was a lot older than you and at a far more advanced stage of life, you also knew that you were going to have to put your studies on hold and the idea of becoming his little housewife was fairly unappealing to you. You kept all of these concerns to yourself though, knowing that if you said no that you wouldn’t see him for a very long time, which was the last thing that you wanted to happen.
Your differences were never really much of an issue, you had mixed in similar circles at Berkeley and he continued to make sure that you got involved in things at Los Alamos. He was far from controlling or misogynistic, getting you a job as an administrative assistant to help organise the chaos of the laboratory, hell, he even cooked on a regular basis. He made it perfectly clear to everyone that you were to be considered as his equal, an extension of him that was to be treated with the same respect. Robert did his best to make sure that you rarely felt marginalised due to your age or sex, little did you know this was because he was nervous that he was too old and out of touch, you were spending a lot of time working with younger men and he was beginning to feel a little threatened. He made sure that his insecurities stayed a long way away from you though, after all you never gave him any reasons to worry.
~
You were starting to spend more time with a young physicist called Richard Feynman, Oppie has seen something in him and gone to great efforts to bring him onto the project. He was in his mid twenties, close to you in age, and a gifted conversationalist. Judging by the gaggle of women that usually surrounded him, Robert also judged that he was considered fairly attractive by the opposite sex. Though Feynman had a wife who was currently in a hospital in Albuquerque and suffering from tuberculosis, this did little to settle his nerves. You always used to spend your lunchtimes together, you’d eat whatever sandwich you had made that morning, Robert substituting any food with a cigarette as had become his habit (which you hated). You had missed a few of these recently though because you “Got stuck in a meeting with Dick, he was having a rant about Groves, you know how we all feel about him.” Though he hated to admit it Robert was beginning to feel something more than just anxiety, he was jealous. Why did Feynman suddenly deserve to spend so much time with you when he was losing out on it? Did you find him boring and deliberately avoid him? Why had he even gone to the effort of talking this bastard into coming here in the first place?
~
Over the next few weeks things calmed down a bit. Robert had spoken to Rabi about his concerns, he was one of the few of Oppie’s friends who could tell him outright when he was being ridiculous and he had done so.
“But are you sure that she isn’t tiring of me?” He had said one morning, sitting in his office in the middle of a rare catch-up with his visiting friend and advisor.
“Oppie, don’t be such a fool. Y/n loves you, she still looks at you the same way she did when you signed your marriage certificate. Besides, Richard loves his wife just as much as you love y/n, he would never have an affair. You’re worrying about nothing.”
“You don’t think it’s my age, she doesn’t feel that I’m boring now that we’re living together?”
“No, but if that’s your worry then do something exciting. Have a party for your 39th and invite everyone, including Feynman. Prove to her that you can still enjoy yourself.” Oppie paused for a moment in thought before replying.
“Thanks Rab, I think I will.”
~
That was where he was now, a big party to celebrate his 39th birthday. Everybody was milling around, locked in various conversations. He had no idea how many martinis he had made that evening and the atmosphere was beginning to become a little more chaotic, the alcohol hitting everyone more quickly than they expected due to the altitude. You had been by his side for most of the night, sitting next to him for the meal and having your first dance of the evening with him, allowing him to lead you around in his favourite foxtrot even if you did tease him about being a bit behind the times. You admitted that you loved his old-fashioned foibles though, you said that it made you feel special. The event only started to go sideways after you and he had got involved in a group discussion, it had inevitably turned scientific and his attention was immediately focused on Rabi and his last posed question. He hadn’t noticed that you had left part-way through the discussion, now being nowhere to be seen.
Rabi twigged his friend looking around the room, noticing quickly himself what was missing. He also noted the Richard Feynman was nowhere to be seen.
“If you’ll excuse me, I think I’m going to go and fix myself another martini,” Robert said, downing the dregs of his previous one and walking in the direction of the kitchen.
“I think I’ll follow him, make sure that he doesn’t get lost on the way,” joked Rabi, following closely behind the host.
As soon as the pair made it to the kitchen Robert burst into an uncharacteristic rage.
“I knew that something was going on, I should have done something to stop her sooner, I just didn’t want to believe it. I could forgive her if she had been discreet about it, but really? On my birthday?”
“Oppie, calm down. I know that y/n and Feynman are both gone, but we don’t know where. They might not even be together.
“Well, where else do you think they could be then?” Even the level headed Isidor was having to admit that the prospect of your affair was becoming increasingly likely. The men suddenly heard movement from the room above them. Your bedroom.
At that moment there was nothing to stop Robert from tearing up the stairs, his friend in tow. He threw open the door to find you and Richard sat side by side on the bed, hunched over something between you with your backs to him. You both snapped around at the bang or your husband’s entry.
“Mr Feynman, would you care to tell me what you are doing in my bedroom with my wife?” God, you had never seen your husband this angry, he was positively seething.
“Dr Oppenheimer, I can assure you that nothing untoward is going on, we were merely…”
“Well, something certainly seems to be going on, don’t you thing Rab?” Robert cut him off.
“Robert, this is none of my business, I’m going to go back down to the party. I’ll keep everyone entertained so that you can take as long as you need up here.” He patted his friend on the shoulder in support, closing the door as he left.
“Now, I want to hear the truth. I’ve had my suspicions about you both for a while, but I suppose at least now I know for certain. Some birthday present.” Dick was trying to be a gentleman and take the brunt of your husband’s onslaught, you were trying to discreetly move the piece of paper that you had both been looking at.
“Sir, honestly, man to man, nothing is going on between me and your wife, I would never even want to touch her.” Oppie raised his eyebrows at that.
“So you fuck my wife and then have the balls to insult her. Stylish Feynman.”
“That came out wrong, I meant that I would never want to do something like that to my wife, I would never dream of jeopardising my marriage.”
“And yet you are happy to destroy mind?”
“Um… no, I…” you rolled your eyes at Dick, he was making everything so much worse than it already was.
“Shut up, you’re just making things harder you idiot.” Richard happily did as he was told.
“Robert, this wasn’t how I wanted you to find out, but…”
“So you are sleeping with him then?”
“No, would you please let me finish?” Robert had nothing to say to that, so your carried on. “For the last few months me and Richard have been working on something for your birthday. He and his wife write letters to one another, but they do it in code so that Groves and his idiots can’t understand it, they’re so thick that they still haven’t managed to figure it out. I know how much you miss your brother, so we managed to get some friends to ask Frank to write to you. Richard had his wife put it into code and send it to him so that you could receive it on your birthday. We came in here so that he could give me the decoded version to surprise you with later. Obviously you have ruined that, so you might as well have it now.” You walked over to Robert, holding the paper out to him. He was completely dumbstruck.
“I suppose I owe you both an apology then.” You knew how much Robert would hate having to put his pride to one side and admit that he was wrong. “Feynman, I’m sorry for doubting you and thank you for helping my wife.”
“No worries Oppie, I understand. I’ll leave the pair of you to it.” He stood from the bed, shaking his boss’s hand before exiting, still visibly shaken.
Robert immediately reached out to you, taking you in his arms.
“Love, I’m so sorry. This is all my fault, I was just nervous that you had grown bored of me and Feynman could have given you so many this that I don’t have.”
“Like what Robert?”
“Youth for one.” You suddenly started to laugh.
“What’s funny, why are you laughing?”
“You idiot Rob, did you really think I would have married you if your age was that important to me? If it will make you less nervous in the future, you should know that I prefer my men older, they tend to cause less problems. I would never even dream of having an affair.” Your husband relinquished his grip on you then, letting you move back to face him. His face was awash with shame.
“Can we forget that this ever happened? I just want things to go back to how they used to be.”
“I think that sounds like a very good idea,” you acquiesced. “Let’s leave that letter up here, put it under my pillow where I was going to hide it and I’ll give it to you later like I was planning to. Then we can head downstairs and pretend that this little incident never happened.” Robert did as you suggested, wrapping an arm around your waist before leading you out onto the landing.
“Oh, one more thing before we go back down. You can’t tell anybody about that letter or we’ll all be arrested.” Robert huffed at that.
“What on earth am I going to tell Rabi?” You chuckled at his deserved misfortune, kissing him on the cheek as you headed back down the stairs.
“That’s up to you, but it had better be something good!”
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latinotiktok · 1 year ago
Note
Nota del autor: Estoy dandole duro al cope
"M-Millei-Sama... Ganaste. Ahora podemos estar juntos al fin?"
Millei mira fijamente a Nik con sus ojos de perro difunto muerto no vivo.
"Nik-Chan. Ponte el atuendo"
"S-Si..."
Despues de unos breves momentos, Nik volvio con unas orejitas de perro y un collar.
"Uy me la pones caliente twink"
Y luego, antes de que los dos ladrones pudirean hacer tiki tiki, aparecio un muñeco satanico malvado del diablo de gaturro con una motosierra y los trozo a los dos
Inmediatamente paro la inflacion en la argentina y todos fueron felices por siempre
Pero que tiene que ver el yaoi rancio con la economía argentina
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sofea-00 · 3 months ago
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Hetty Green... la mujer más tacaña de la historia, su riqueza se estima en más de 2.300 millones de dólares. Hetty Greene nació en Estados Unidos en 1835. Era la única hija de un rico hombre de negocios. Heredó de su padre una fortuna estimada en 7,5 millones de dólares. Cuando tenía veintiún años, se mudó a vivir a Nueva York para invertir. dinero en Wall Street y fue llamada la Bruja Malvada de Wall Street. Se casó con un millonario como ella, pero todavía vivía de los restos de pasteles y galletas rotas en las tiendas de comestibles y ¡¡discutía para conseguir un hueso gratis para su perro todos los días!! Hetty Greene era una mujer muy avara. Cosía calzoncillos cuando tenía 16 años y no los cambió ni compró otros hasta el día de su muerte. Nunca gastó un centavo, por eso se decía que nunca usaba agua caliente, que usaba un vestido negro que no se cambiaba hasta que estaba completamente gastado y que vivía de comer un pastel que costaba sólo dos centavos. provocó que su hijo le amputara la pierna porque cuando se la rompió, ella retrasó el tratamiento porque insistió en no gastar dinero y siguió buscando atención médica gratuita. Hetty Greene murió en 1916 a la edad de 81 años en la ciudad de Nueva York y fue inscrita en el Libro Guinness de los Récords como la "persona más tacaña del mundo". La causa de su muerte fue un derrame cerebral debido a una pelea con ella. sirvienta porque la sirvienta pidió un aumento en su magro salario. Ella murió y dejó una enorme fortuna, y sus hijos no heredaron su extrema tacañería, sino que fueron generosos hasta el punto de que su hija construyó un hospital gratuito con su dinero!! ☕️
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kentinismo · 10 months ago
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SFW ALPHABET | Kentin, Corazón de Melón.
warning(s) ! ninguna, una que otra mención sobre relaciones sexuales.
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"A" is for Affection (¿Cómo demuestra su afecto?)
— Kentin demuestra su afecto a través de tiempo de calidad y contacto físico. Su principal lenguaje del amor incluye dedicarte todo su tiempo y disfrutar de sesiones de abrazos y besos para expresar cuánto te ama.
"B" is for Best Friend (¿Cómo sería si fueran mejores amigos?)
— En el canon, Kentin inevitablemente se enamora de ti. Su falta de discreción se refleja sus sonrojos ante el mínimo toque o palabra afectuosa. Fuera de eso, como mejores amigos, sería tu confidente, con el deseo de animarte en tus peores momentos y ofrecer confianza eterna.
"C" is for Cuddles (¿Le gusta abrazar?)
— Kentin ama abrazarte, especialmente siendo la cucharita grande. Busca mantener tu calor corporal contra el suyo, rodeando tu cintura como muestra de pertenencia y protección. También, en ocasiones de vulnerabilidad, disfruta acurrucarse en tu pecho mientras te pregunta cuánto lo amas.
"D" is for Domestic (¿Le gustaría una vida doméstica?)
— Siempre se imaginó viviendo contigo y sonreía al pensar en esa fantasía. Está dispuesto a ampliar su conocimiento gastronómico para prepararte las mejores comidas y recibirte con una comida caliente y la casa ordenada si trabajas o estudias.
"E" is for Ending (¿Cómo terminaría su relación?)
— En su primera ruptura, se sintió culpable, pero al reencontrarse, se esforzó por vivir un "felices por siempre". Si tú terminaras la relación, soltaría lágrimas agradeciendo todo lo compartido.
"F" is for Fiancée (¿Cómo se siente respecto al compromiso?)
— En el canon, se casan, ya que siempre quiso pasar toda su vida a tu lado y entrelazar sus vidas eternamente en el matrimonio.
"G" is for Gentle (¿Qué tan gentil es?)
— Kentin te ve como algo sumamente precioso y frágil, siendo delicado en cada acción contigo, incluso en la cama le cuesta ser rudo. Ah, pero con los celos es algo completamente diferente, que hablaremos más adelante;3
"H" is for Hugs (¿Le gusta abrazar?)
— Kentin AMA abrazarte, considerándolo la mejor manera de demostrar afecto y protección. No puede pasar mucho tiempo sin tocarte de alguna manera.
"I" is for I Love You (¿Cuánto tiempo tarda en decir que te ama?)
— Siempre estuvo seguro de amarte y probablemente fue el primero en expresarlo, quizás durante su primera vez contigo.
"J" is for Jealousy (¿Qué tan celoso es?)
— Antes era muy celoso y posesivo, pero después de aprender a manejarlo, controla sus celos. Aún puede ser protector y posesivo ocasionalmente, especialmente frente a otros hombres que coquetean contigo, soltando comentarios posesivos y besándote violentamente en frente de estos.
"K" is for Kisses (¿Cómo besa? ¿Le gustan?)
— A Kentin le encanta besar tiernamente, colmándote de besos húmedos y repitiendo "te amo" al alejarse de tus labios. Disfruta especialmente los besos de mariposa, le dan cosquillas en la piel y vuelve a sentirse como un adolescente enamorado.
"L" is for Little Ones (¿Cómo se lleva con los niños?)
— Aunque no se lleva bien con niños demasiado pequeños, disfruta jugar con los más grandes y ha pensado en tener hijos contigo.
"M" is for Morning (¿Cómo serían tus mañanas con él?)
— Le gusta seguir una rutina matutina, levantarse, desayunar, pasear a los perros y pasar el resto del día contigo.
"N" is for Night (¿Cómo serían tus noches con él?)
— Al igual que las mañanas, Kentin disfruta de una rutina nocturna que incluye cenar, bañarse contigo y acurrucarse en la cama para tener una noche amorosa.
"O" is for Open (¿Qué tan abierto es contigo?)
— Kentin prefiere hablar sobre cosas básicas de su vida, pero cuando se trata de sus sentimientos es más cerrado de lo normal, pero ya que te ve como alguien que merece toda su confianza, habla más fácilmente contigo de esto.
"P" is for Patience (¿Qué tan paciente es contigo?)
— Es increíblemente paciente contigo, conoce todos tus rasgos y su paciencia es casi infinita.
"Q" is for Quizzes (¿Qué tanto recuerda sobre ti?)
— Aunque a veces se le escapan detalles, Kentin intenta recordar todo sobre ti y se esfuerza en retener toda información importante.
"R" is for Remember (¿Cuál es su momento favorito en la relación?)
— Adora todos los momentos contigo, pero si tuviera que elegir uno, sería cuando cepilla tu cabello después de ducharse juntos.
"S" is for Security (¿Qué tan protector es?)
— Kentin te ve como alguien que merece ser protegido, proporcionándote toda la seguridad posible en sus brazos y a su lado.
"T" is for Try (¿Qué tanto esfuerzo pone en las citas?)
— Se esfuerza por hacer que todas las citas sean perfectas y planea todo con anticipación.
"U" is for Ugly (¿Qué malos hábitos tendría?)
— A veces se enfada fácilmente por cosas insignificantes, pero rara vez te culpa, ya que es paciente contigo.
"V" is for Vanity (¿Qué tan inseguro es?)
— Aunque ha mejorado sus inseguridades, aún puede sentir que no te merece completamente en algunas ocasiones en dónde no se siente con la mejor autoestima del mundo.
"W" is for Whole (¿Se sentiría incompleto sin ti?)
— Sí.
"X" is for XTRA (Headcanon extra que le gustaría agregar)
— A Kentin le gusta besar cada cicatriz, marca de nacimiento, lunar o peca que tengas.
"Z" is for Zzz (Hábitos de sueño que tiene)
— Duerme tranquilo, a veces babea un poco y tiene espasmos que pueden asustarte durante la noche. (me dió mucha risa imaginarlo 😭)
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waltfrasescazadordepalabras · 4 months ago
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Se cuenta que Marilyn le dijo a Einstein, con una franqueza encantadora: “tú y yo podríamos tener un hijo: Saldría con mi belleza y tu inteligencia”. A lo que el padre de la relatividad y de la bomba atómica respondió: “A lo mejor sale con mi belleza y con tu inteligencia”. Aún no se sabía (las pruebas se hicieron más tarde), que el coeficiente intelectual de Marilyn Monroe era de 165, cinco puntos por encima del “mayor genio de todos los tiempos”. Marilyn Monroe (Norma Jeane Baker, 1926-1962) era una gran lectora. Tenía en su casa una biblioteca con cerca de mil libros. Se pasaba muchas horas leyendo obras de literatura, poesía, teatro, filosofía, ya que su espíritu, además de muchísimas ganas de vivir, tenía insaciable curiosidad y hambre de conocimiento. Algunas de las maravillosas citas de esta gran mujer son: 1. Una de las mejores cosas que me han pasado es que soy mujer. Esa es la manera que todas las mujeres debieran de sentirse. 2. La gente comenzó a decir que era lesbiana. Sonreí. No hay sexo incorrecto si hay amor en él. 3. Los perros no muerden. Sólo los seres humanos. 4. No me siento como la primavera. Me siento como un otoño caliente de color rojo. 5. Ríe cuando estés triste. Llorar es demasiado fácil. 6. Quiero envejecer sin estiramientos faciales. Quiero tener el valor de ser fiel a la cara que he hecho. 7. Nadie dijo que yo era bonita cuando era niña. A todos los niños se les debería decir que son guapos, aunque no lo sean. 8. Un símbolo sexual se convierte en una cosa. Odio ser una cosa. 9. Ser un símbolo sexual es una carga pesada de llevar, sobretodo cuando una está cansada, herida y desconcertada. 10. Es mejor estar sola que infeliz con alguien. 11. La imperfección es belleza, la locura es genialidad. Es mejor hacer el ridículo que ser aburrido. 12. Las decepciones te hacen abrir los ojos y cerrar el corazón. 13. Soy una chica pequeña en un mundo grande tratando de encontrar a alguien a quien amar. 14. El sexo forma parte de la naturaleza. Y yo me llevo de maravilla con la naturaleza. 15. Nunca he dejado a nadie en quien haya creído. 16. Nunca he engañado a nadie. A veces he dejado que los hombres se engañen a sí mismos. 17. Si hubiera seguido todas las reglas, nunca habría llegado a ninguna parte. 18. Es más fácil amar a un hombre que vivir con él. 19. Mantén la cabeza arriba, la barbilla alta, mantén tu sonrisa, porque la vida es una cosa hermosa y hay mucho por lo cual sonreír
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las-microfisuras · 1 year ago
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Sé lo que quiero: una mujer fea y limpia, con senos grandes, que me diga: ¿qué es eso de andar inventando cosas?, nada de dramas, ¡venga aquí inmediatamente! –y me dé un baño tibio, me ponga un camisón blanco de lino, trence mi cabello y me meta en la cama, muy enfadada, diciendo: ¿qué es eso?, andar por ahí sola, comiendo fuera de horas, que hasta va a coger una enfermedad, déjese de inventar tragedias, piense que es grande y buena la vida, tómese esa taza de caldo caliente. 
Me alza la cabeza con la mano, me cubre con una sábana grande, aparta algunos mechones de mi frente ya blanca y fresca, y me dice, antes de que yo me duerma mansamente: 
va a ver qué pronto engorda esa carita, olvide tonterías y quédese ahí, como una niña buena. Alguien que me recoja como un perro humilde, que me abra la puerta, me regañe, me alimente, me quiera severamente como a un perro, eso es lo que quiero, como a un perro, como a un hijo.
Clarice Lispector, Cerca del corazón salvaje.
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sapphosdickandballs · 3 months ago
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I'M GOING TO ABUSE THE POWER OF MY SPANISH MAKING YOU GOOGLE TRANSLATE EVERYTHING I SAY MUAHAHAHAHAHA
¡HOY CENÉ DOS PERROS CALIENTES! Estaban buenísimos, por cierto.
Slay! I haven’t. Well. Hadn’t eaten anything since lunch. Now I’m eating cold pizza. Do you ever forget to eat. Sometimes I’ll just not be hungry. I’m still not hungry. But my hands are shaking less now so. Thumbs up emoji. Also I’ll happily google translate things for you. I like when you speak Spanish so. Not even just in a gay way. Mostly
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iamalexxsoto · 20 hours ago
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A mí no me importa que pasen mil personas más por tu vida, que llegues a pensar que encontraste un nuevo amor y que ahora creas que él es el indicado. Porque sé que nadie sabr�� leerte como yo lo hago, que nadie entenderá el lenguaje de tus silencios o la música que llevas en el alma. Yo seguiré buscándote entre las calles que solíamos caminar, en las canciones que compartíamos, en los sabores que solíamos disfrutar juntos. Seguiré haciéndote caer, una y otra vez, en la tentación de mis provocaciones, en la memoria de lo que somos y lo que fuimos.
Pero también sé que un día, si ese momento llega, dejaré de buscarte, de intentar alcanzarte por nuestros recuerdos. Será porque, con esa mirada que siempre compartimos después de hacer el amor, después de un beso lleno de alma, o cuando devoramos juntos un perro caliente, una pizza, o un helado cargado de mil toppings, con esa misma mirada fija, frente a frente, tus ojos en los míos, me dirás que ya no me amas. Y no será con palabras vacías ni excusas gastadas, sino con la verdad que duele y redime.
El día en que vea en tus ojos la certeza de que tu corazón ya no me pertenece, te dejaré partir. No porque quiera, no porque pueda olvidarte, sino porque el amor verdadero sabe cuándo soltar, incluso si el alma se rompe en el intento. Porque un "te amo" no puede sostenerse solo, y el amor, cuando no es recíproco, también merece descansar.
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