#red necklace with medals

[littlequeenies]

Red Necklace with Medals

Here we can see John Lennon wearing a red necklace with some pendant medals at Capitol Studio, March 9, 1973 (released by John Lennon Estate).

On October 6, 1973 May Pang is wearing the same necklace on her date with John at Caesar's Palace in Las Vegas.

We can see John wearing it again for the Jim Stacy benefit on March 24, 1974:

We don't know the details of this photo, but it's May in the 1980s wearing the same necklace...

Was it a gift from John to May? (most possible case)

Was it a gift from May to John and she got it back after their break-up or his murder? (She was working for the Lennons since 1971; we can see him actually wearing it at on the One to One concert in 1972 and she was there; she claims they saw each other after 1975 as lovers several times).

Does the necklace itself has any meaning? Is is of Asian, Chinese, Buddhist origin?

So many questions, but very interesting in any case. If any of you know the details feel free to comment/reblog the post or send us a message and we will update the info! :)

[goldengirlgalaxy]

The Bedazzler

After a very hazy night that... may or may not have been caused by something he found in the Ghost Zone, Danny ends up discovering in his haze he bought an absolutely outrageous amount of various craft supplies, especially shiny things like those little plastic rimstones.

Good news, everything was bought from a going out of business sale, so he didn't drain all of his funds. Bad news, everything was bought from a going out of business sale, which means he can't return them. And, frankly, he doesn't want to just throw away a bunch of stuff he paid for. But he still doesn't know what to do with it all.

At least until Clockwork decides to give Danny a small boon that lets him stop time. Then he gets some ideas.

It first starts off with Superman. He's doing his regular hero thing, when he suddenly feels his cape pulled to one side. He brushes it off as the wind, until people start pointing at his back. Clark nearly panics when he finds a bunch of green crystals on his cape, only to calm when he realizes they're plastic and attached with glue. That of course begs the question, who was able to glue gemstones to his back without him noticing?

Later that same day he's both amused and even more confused when Luthor appears again, only for a bunch of gem stickers to appear on top of his bald head, clearly arranged to spell out 'I Heart Superman' in icons.

Captain Marvel suddenly feels something appear on his head, only to discover it's some kind of cardboard crown. He's confused, but ultimately decides to wear it the rest of the day, thinking it might be from some meta fan of his.

Martian Manhunter finds a necklace appearing on him. When he pulls it off, he finds it's one of those Shrinky Dink plastics, designed to look like a medal that says '#1 Hero' on it, also with some extra plastic gems for extra bling. He wears it proudly for the rest of the day.

The Gotham Bats all get hit at the same time. Fake flowers, various colors of ribbons, Red Robin had a helium balloon attached to him for an hour, and of course plenty of shiny fake gems.

At first, everyone thought the funniest part of the mysterious crafts was Red Hood appearing with several rimstones attached to his hood where he mouth would be, several gold ones arranged in such a way that it looked like he was flashing a bunch of yellow teeth.

Then the Joker showed up. And was promptly doused in several pounds of glitter. Even better, it got into his eyes, effectively blinding him and giving the Bats a chance to capture him (after they were done laughing).

Of course, as more Leaguers get trolled, the more the stories start to paint a picture of someone running around pranking them. And many of them want to know just who this Bedazzler is.

Meanwhile, Danny is laughing his ass off and is planning on giving his friends a chance to have their own fun.

[trifoliate-undergrowth]

So I’m in a deeply red incredibly conservative state.  I ran a pride month 5k awhile back. The usual group of 3 protestors with an incredibly loud bullhorn showed up to yell at us about how trans people are mutilating themselves and AIDS is God’s judgement and we’re a menace to children etc. etc. etc. But they were vastly outnumbered by runners and volunteers. One of the first race announcements was that they hadn’t ordered enough T-shirts for the amount of people who ended up running, and would have to reorder, so anyone who wanted another race T-shirt should sign up now.

We’re all used to the protestors by now, they show up everywhere. We just ignore them. Interacting with them just encourages them.

I hadn’t realized how early the race date was this year compared to previous years and hadn’t prepared as much, and there were a lot of hills; not to mention there was some confusion as to the race route which resulted in the announcer referring to it post-run as a “4-mile 5k” (they are supposed to be about 3.5 miles. One guy ended up in an entirely different district of the city from where the race route was and still finished first.) I ended up walking a lot of the race, but I finished it, and did do a fair bit of running.

I had top surgery a few years ago but I’ve only gotten comfortable running shirtless this year as body fat redistribution happened. I had been trying to decide if I wanted to run shirtless or not before the protestors showed up and started yelling, then I was like ah. I will run past the transphobes shirtless like a human middle finger. And that is what I did. was wearing delightfully garish rainbow shorts I found at a thrift store and my pink triangle necklace.

Some Americorps volunteers were directing runners at one of the more confusing junctions, I high fived one and panted that I had just joined Conservation Corps. The sound of angry bullhorn shouting faded almost immediately behind us, and there were rainbow flags hanging in several of the yards we ran past throughout the route.

As in previous years, a lot of tough incredibly fit beautiful older people, mostly women, breezed past me during the race. One jogged up even with me with an encouraging “what would you do for a klondike bar!” I wasn’t sure how to reply to this and didn’t have the breath to express that I did not want anything thick or creamy at that moment, but what did come out was “you did remind me that there’s beer at the finish line.” Another lady who walked and jogged near me for awhile near the middle-latter half of the race talked a bit and complained that one of the volunteers organizing the race hadn’t set up the “water” table with fireball shots that she did for some other races and we just got a regular water and gatorade station!

Coming back to the finish line I was handed a flag and ran past long rows of cheering people. Around the corner the protestors were still lurking, but were mostly silent now. Apparently they had gotten worn out by just standing there and not running. As I passed the bullhorn guy shook himself out of his torpor enough to give a halfhearted “is it a man? is it a woman? who knows anymore?” I passed him and the sound of cheering, and then the 80s music (I remember Blondie and ABBA) they were blasting closer to the finish line.

Once most of the runners were back there was a fun run for the kids. A couple of the older ones had also run the 5k (I just know the protestors were awful to the poor guys ughh) but all of them made a lap around the parking lot and got handed medals. All of the adult volunteers and participants spread out around the middle of the parking lot so that there was someone cheering and waving flags for the kids along every step of the route.

There were free snacks, water and beer courtesy of our sponsor [brand redacted]. There was also non-alcoholic “beer”, which I thought was nice to see, I’d been thinking there was a heavily alcoholic element to a lot of local queer events. I drank a lot of water and ate some food before getting a free beer, which still hit me pretty hard after the run. While I was hovering around the refreshment table a big handsome butch came up next to me and I noticed a faded tattoo on her arm of a chain, each link a different color of the rainbow.

I went to put something down in my car just as the protestors were starting to leave, and realized that they were moving on a course that overlapped with mine as I walked to my car. I decided I wasn’t going to stop or veer out of their way and just see what they did. As I got closer they seemed to be talking about how we had definitely totally noticed that they were leaving (no one had.) They noticed me coming towards them and suddenly got quiet, avoided eye contact and skittered out of my way. Ha.

I stumbled into the nearby fundraiser to cool down and sober up in the air conditioning before I left. They were playing girl in red, rupaul, that girls/girls/boys song by Panic! at the disco, and that Taylor Swift song “You need to calm down” that some people on this site complained was cringe. The lady next to me sang along to “shade never made anybody less gay.” I bought a baseball hat.

It’s easy, I think especially if you’re very online and not very active in your local community, to start feeling like there’s no queer community in your area and we’re outnumbered by people who hate us. Unless you live in the middle of Westoboro Baptist territory that’s generally not true. I cannot stress enough how incredibly conservative and red my area is. We’ve got like 3 very loud people with nothing better to do who bother us at every event, and large amounts of people across all demographics who show up in support. I’ve been thinking about this post by @headspace-hotel about not being able to find stuff online and this is a slightly different thing but yeah. If you don’t know what there is in your area, you don’t know what you’re looking for or where to find it when searching online. If you search “is there queer stuff happening near me” google is going to shrug and recommend you Products And Services that it can Sell You. When I moved back home after spending some time in a much more blue state (but which had much less of a sense of community--I think it’s the way we band together down here when we know just what the stakes are) I felt like I was going to be the only trans person in the state, then someone mentioned to me that there was a local private facebook group for trans people to share personal posts and resources with many hundreds of members. There are more of us that aren’t on facebook. The Facebook group, though, introduced me to many more resources I hadn't known were in my area.

Get outside. Find some sort of local queer event and ask around. There will be other queer people. There is very likely something you’re interested in already happening or people who would love to work with you to start it if not. Even if you’re in a very red very rural state, you’re not alone, and chill or neutrally polite people vastly outnumber the few assholes, it’s just that the assholes are very loud and especially if you’ve been marinating in overwhelmingly toxic online environments it can feel like they’re everywhere. They’re not. Don’t give them that power.

The current legal landscape is terrifying and needs a lot of work but it doesn't reflect lived experiences. Get outside, find your local community, show up to in-person events if at all possible, it’s so encouraging.

[minhosimthings]

Enha reaction to when you’re doing it at their parents house but you can’t stay silent…

My exhibitionism kink be kinking so hard rn I LOVE THIS.

More under the cut!

Heeseung, being the embodiment of horny he is, wouldn't last two days without a taste from your cunt. And a trip to his parents' house for two weeks? The chances of sex was approximately zero. Unless you could keep quiet.

"Shush now princess, don't want my brother to hear do we?" He'd whisper ever so softly in your ear, his tongue curling up inside your pussy. You could feel your orgasm start to come upto your stomach, and you had to try hard not to scream holy hell out loud, even as Heeseung slowed the flicking of his tongue through your folds.

"Dirty dirty girl aren't you?" He'd chuckle, afterwards, as your scream was muffled by his hand, "Always so noisy for me."

Jay wouldn't be too much on the train of fucking at his parents' house. Yes, he knew you couldn't last that long without his dick, but it was his childhood bedroom you guys were staying in. With all the stuffed toys and medals staring at him, he wasn't too comfy with that idea. But with a little bit of manipulation and maybe a bit of pheromone, he was laying on the bed with you between his legs while his parents were downstairs casually watching a movie without a care.

"Ah-ah fuck-fuck-fuck!" Jay's nearing his orgasm for what feels like the tenth time now, yet you show no sign of granting him his release anytime soon. Your hand expertly pumps his cock, now red and leaking in angry protest, occasionally running your thumb over his sensitive tip. His body jolts in response, toes curled and hips bucking into your hand.

"Fucking hell baby." He'd moan, after you grant him his sweet release, "Your turn now."

Jake is elated about fucking you literally anywhere, so his parents' place wasn't a stop sign for him. The only thing he knew would be a hindrance was how loud you could be, with his cock inside of you. It boosted his ego a bit, to think that he could make you scream like that.

"Shh babe, don't want the entire neighbourhood to know what kind of a slut you are do we?" His necklace acted as a very effective gag, successfully silencing you to the point where the metal was almost going to break from how hard you were biting it. But how could you not? With Jake's rough pace, his hips repeatedly slamming into yours, his mouth and fingers leaving masterpieces on your canvas of a body.

"I'll get a better one next time." Jake would growl in your ear, removing the necklace from your mouth as your eyes almost roll to the back of your head from how hard he had fucked you, "Only the best for you, princess."

Sunghoon, very akin to Heeseung, would also not last 48 hours without pussy. The only problem was that you weren't exactly that willing to have your cunt destroyed by him in his parents' house. Especially with his little sister there. So, he had to take drastic measures. Forcing you into the bathroom in the middle of the night, Sunghoon would place the palm of his hand against your mouth to silence your whimpers.

"The bed would creak way too much for my sister to not notice." He'd chuckle, bending you against the marble counter and stretching your ass out, while his hand is still pressed perhaps a bit too tightly on your mouth. Flipping you over onto your back, he'd have no interest in stretching you out, instead choosing to ram his cock into your pussy, making you scream out loud.

"Tch tch you're so loud baby." He'd tease you, taking his length out and then ramming it in again making you whimper pathetically under his weight, "You want the neighbourhood to know what we're doing right now? You want them to know what a pathetic slut you are hm?"

[celestial-witchposter]

Little Everyday Offerings: Aphrodite Edition 🐚✨️

A lock of hair. (I cut my own, so that makes it easier, but after your next haircut, try taking a piece home and leaving it on your altar. It's a powerful piece of yourself, your femininity, and your beauty.)

A spray of perfume/drop of perfume oil. (This one is super easy if you have a statue/idol or medal you can anoint. It's quick and easy and is easily incorporated into morning routines, rituals, or devotionals.)

A flower (Particularly roses, *especially* red ones - RIP Adonis. Myrtle and apple blossom are also symbolic of Aphrodite. Whether you find them on a walk, buy them for yourself, or receive them as a gift, leave one for the goddess!)

Fruit or berries (Quinces have become her symbol due to the "golden apple" myth of Paris, but any fruit you happen to be eating, a slice can be offered to Aphrodite. Especially figs and apples.)

Water/Moon water (With intention!! Intention is everything. Remember, Aphrodite was born from the sea foam, gifts of the water and the sea are precious to her.)

Seashells (Especially abalone shells, but anything you find along the shores will hold its own power. I have heard stories of worshipers of Aphrodite being asked for specific shells by the goddess/getting a sense that one in particular will be appreciated, so listen to your intuition when choosing which one to leave her, or simply offer the prettiest one you find back to the sea!)

A kiss, with or without lipstick (I think this one speaks for itself. Very good for medals and pendants especially, when on the go. For a statue or idol, I would place them at the base of the statue, near the feet. Above all be respectful, this is a goddess you're speaking to. If you get a sense that you should not offer a kiss, DON'T.)

A sentimental piece of jewelry (It's best if this is a piece you dont intend on wearing. Perhaps something that belonged to a loved one, or something from your childhood that was special to you - I left her freshwater pearls from my very first pearl necklace that is now much too small. 💔)

Milk, honey, or sweets (Make sure to only leave these for a short time, to avoid spoilage. If milk sours, flies are attracted, or honey crystallizes within a few hours on your altar - well first check the milk jug 😄 - but otherwise you may want to take special care to honor the goddess soon, and consider cleansing and protecting yourself and your space.)

Hope this helps! I've been actively honoring and worshiping Aphrodite for about a year now, so I'm not a priestess or anything of that ilk, but the goddess has blessed me and seems pleased enough with my work. If anyone has anything to add, feel free, and feel free to correct me if it seems I'm misinformed. This is just what works and has worked for me. The most important thing really is just to be respectful, Aphrodite isn't all love and light, and can be quite temperamental and even vengeful, which makes her a powerful patron. Best of luck and blessed be!

[red-cape-morgana]

Arcane season 2

Finished searching every little details I had noted during watching this first arc and thought about sharing it:

Caitlyn tying up her hair the moment she creates her squad, or more honestly “anti zaunites militia”. It’s not self consciousness or trying to look adult because we have seen her facing the council in the previous season with her hair down.

Any idea who always has her hair done/ tied up? Her mom. It’s not to impress the council or anyone because she had no problem arguing with the council last with her hair down. But her mom always had her hair up and I believe Caitlyn wanted to imitate that to look like the powerful woman she was and also to feel closer to her.

Let’s blame my French-ness but that hat. A military beret, and not any of them but the white one that’s reserved to the foreign legion of the French army. With a medal on it as a sign of her military prowess/merit.

It’s intriguing to see this choice cause they are known to be a last resort and ready to die regimen, but also the foreigner is supposed to be the one offering their service to the country. YET HERE it’s Ambessa the foreigner that gives her full powers and solidifies a rather fragile figure because everyone knows she is a very young adult, a rookie enforcer, and someone way too involved in the situation to clearly assess the situation. The perfect prey for a master in manipulation.

And what’s up with the necklace/ribbon? Where the hell is the pendant that we saw all last season? And her mom didn’t wear that color at all, the only character that wears something similar is Ambessa Medarda. A sort of red string between two characters.

[tillthelandslide]

Prove It Princess: Chain Matty! - The Sequel

Perfect Girl

A/n: a huge thank you to @lottiecrabie and @lastnightwaskindofablur for reading this for me and helping me 💘. This is long awaited I feel and I'm sorry to everyone who really wanted a sequel, but it's here (kinda?) it's not fully finished but I'm kinda of done with it. Hope you all like it 🩷

MINORS DNI 🫵🏼

Matty's eyes haven’t left you the whole day. No matter what he does, they always seem to land on you. When you’re not there, he's been searching for you, needing to see you. Clad in a lace bodysuit that was entirely too similar to the ones you wear for him, tucked into a leather skirt, teasing him. Forever teasing him.

But what got him the most, is the silver chain resting around your neck, worn like it was a medal. His chain, grazing the skin he so desperately wants to mark. To cover with beautiful hues of purple and red. A reminder to everyone that you are his girl. But the chain is not enough; it still gives too much room for guessing. People who do not know him, don’t know the true owner of this necklace. Have no idea it claims you as his. For all they know, you don't belong to anyone. Though it doesn’t really matter when it looks that good, and God, does it look good. Even the shining ring on your left hand isn’t enough, not for him. He needs to mark you. Show everyone that you are taken.

He watches the way your thumb hooks underneath the dainty chain, playing with the metal, letting it graze against your skin. He is in a daze, obsessed with the way you run your thumb against it absentmindedly, caressing the metal. Your finger runs along the silver and he swears he feels the sensation on his own skin.

You talk to George, his arm wrapped around your shoulder, skin grazing the metal. Matty doesn’t care that it’s his best mate's arm that’s wrapped around your neck. He smirks. In fact, seeing his friend's skin touch the metal that was once coated in him, it makes him feral. It's a disgusting thought. Erotic, but vile. If only he knew…

You pull the chain with your thumb, the back of it digging into your neck as you listen to George speak about some after party, running through his supposed ‘un-thought of’ idea of a remix he wants to play.

Matty swallows as he sees the metal bite into your nape, leaving an indent. His eyes are focused on the hollow of your throat then, wanting nothing more than to nip it himself, right next to his chain. To make you bleed and bruise. To leave traces of him on your skin for the whole world to see. To remind you of the sinful things he loves to do to you. That you beg him to do to you.

Your eyes finally land on him. You take in his dark, blown-out eyes and his bitten lip. You knew that look all too well. You smirk as you bring the chain up to your own mouth. Matty knows your next move before you do it. He shakes his head and draws in a shaky breath as your lips wrap around the necklace. His mind flashes back to that night. The way your lips sucked the silver coated in him, the way you licked it clean.

It was then that he made you promise to never take it off, ever. Your attention is pulled from him by George again. You mumble a little “hmm?” and the metal falls from your mouth, almost in slow motion, landing against your chest. It bounces slightly upon impact, drawing his attention to the swell of your breast.

He notices the faint remnants of a hickey there, the bruise nearly healed, looking more like a blemish than anything else. He wants to place his mouth there again, darkening the skin over and over until his imprint on you is nearly a branding iron.

He needs you. God, he needs you desperately.

His blood almost boils when he sees George lean down, his lips grazing your ear. Matty doesn’t know what he says and he truly doesn’t care. He doesn’t even care that it's his best friend, one that he trusts with his life. Not when he sees you smirk, eyes snapping up to him, smiling as the drummer murmurs into your ear.

“He hasn’t been able to stop staring at you all night,” is what George says, making you smirk, your eyes finding the curly haired man in question.

"It's the chain," you mutter back into his ear. Your eyes find Matty, he sits with his legs spread beside Ross and John. Matty isn’t listening. Instead, he glares at you and George, ever focused. Your eyes rake down his form, noting the way his thighs part further and one hand grabs the back of his neck, drifting up to his hair, tugging the curls.

"He's so…" George pauses, pulling back to look at his friend, smiling at him and watching him nod back. He leans down again, arm slipping from your shoulder, hand gently holding the back of your neck. “Possessive over you," he breathes into your ear.

“I say we give him a little show, hmm? Make him finally do something about it,” he speaks and your smirk spreads, breaking out into a toothy grin. You chuckle, eyes flicking up to the man as he pulls back from you. It doesn’t matter that his girlfriend is somewhere in the venue. Heck, she’d probably join in on the fun. For that’s all it was, a bit of harmless fun.

George continues to speak slowly into your ear, lips nearly grazing your skin with every word. Matty doesn’t like it, but he doesn’t move, not yet. He’s entranced sure, but nothing has hit a nerve just yet. He was enjoying the show… for now. He breathes shallowly, watching as your lips twitch, smirking and smiling and fluttering your eyelashes up at his friend, wanting Matty to react. He watches as George’s eyes flick to him, throwing an evil little smile his way, playing with him as much as you were, daring him to move.

George’s eyes fall back to you, drifting along your skin, not in a predatory way but searching for something, something he could focus on to draw out the needed reaction for Matty. His eyes fall on the silver jewellery resting against your chest and he smirks.

“This is nice.” His fingers hook underneath the chain. That's all Matty needs to see before he’s moving. He rises in an instant, practically falling over himself to get to you, and he stands with you before George has even had a chance to raise the chain upwards.

“Don’t you have a girlfriend to bother mate.” His words are harsh and they have both you and the drummer smirking. George jokingly hisses at the man for his catty words, making you chuckle. Matty’s eyes snap to yours, silently warning you to watch your mouth. Your lips close and you swallow.

He stares his best friend down until he drops the metal, letting it fall and collide with your skin. George inches back, still standing close to you but raising his hands up in surrender.

“Alright don’t have to tell me twice,” he says, but he quickly leans down and presses a kiss to your cheek making Matty practically growl. Before he’s walking backwards, raising his eyebrows at you and mouthing a “you’re welcome” as he leaves.

“Having fun, were you, love?” Matty says, hand hooking behind your neck and squeezing. Just hard enough that he feels the chain against his palm. Enough so you know what’s to come. Enough so you know exactly what he’s going to do to you. The singular gesture makes your core clench, preparing for him. You know if he was to spread his fingers through your folds he’d find you wrecked, wet and ready for him. You also know that despite the fact you’re surrounded by your friends, you’d let him take you right there, quenching all of your wanton desires.

"Just having a friendly conversation Matty," you say innocently, hand finding his chest, running along the covered muscles, gently, soothingly. But your eyes hold a storm behind them, something dark and all too dangerous brewing behind the teasing stare he is fascinated in.

"Friendly my arse," he murmurs, eyes leaving you and searching for his friend, only to find him standing with Charli, arms hooked around her. They’re both looking back at him, Charli giggling into his neck whilst he smirks at him.

"Fucking twat,” Matty murmurs to himself more than anyone else. “Fuck off mate” he shouts, across to his friend who just laughs loudly, pulling his girlfriend away with him. You coo up at him with a pout, leaning forward until your lips graze his neck.

"Poor little Matty… doesn't like it when his best friend talks to his girl." His eyes snap to you then and you smirk. Rousing a reaction from him was way too easy, and too fun to refrain from.

"He wasn't just talking to my girl… he was flirting," he says with a raised eyebrow. You just lean forward, lips finding his neck again, grazing the flesh with your tongue.

"Sure… your best friend was flirting with your girl." He doesn't like that you're making fun of him. You raise your lips to his ear, brushing them against the flesh. He shudders, a low growl slipping from him. “Maybe you should show him who I belong to." You take the lobe in your mouth feeling the cool metal of his hoop that you finally convinced him to wear again against your tongue.

He grunts and tears you away from him, dark eyes finding yours as his arm hooks around your shoulders and he smirks. "Come with me." He pulls you with him, walking out of the room, turning a corner and then another and then another until he's found his dressing room. He drags you in and slams you against the door.

"Such a dirty slut… begging for daddy's attention. Flirting with his best mate just so I'd give you some attention…" His lips find your neck, tugging against the metal. "Little greedy thing, huh?" He says, asking you for something, anything: to confirm his words or deny, he doesn’t care. All he wants is those breathy, whiny moans of yours against his ear.

"Tell me how much you want me." You move forward, just an inch, needing him closer to you. His hand snaps to your throat, pinning you against the door. You moan and your back arches. It makes his head spin, a loud groan rumbling from his chest.

"Need you so bad Matty… so fucking bad" It's not good enough. You know by the way he tilts his head to the side and he tuts.

"Daddy, please." with the way his eyes sparkle and a menacing grin rests against your lips, you know you've got him hook line and sinker. Or at least you think you do.

His lips are on yours not a second later. His tongue is in your mouth almost instantly, aggressively pushing against yours. Your head nearly hits the wood upon impact, but it’s cushioned by one of Matty's hands. It weaves between the strands of your hair, fingertips threading through before closing. He tugs your head to the left, making you moan into his mouth. His lips slip from yours, dragging down your neck slowly, landing against your chest before following his previous path back up, halting at your jugular, right next to the silver chain.

“You drive me fucking wild, baby girl.”he bites your neck, the cold of the chain on his tongue. Your flesh tastes like metal and salt and heaven and you. So much like you that he moans into the hollow of your throat. The sound that slips from your mouth is a glorious melody that he’s obsessed with. It makes his pants tighten. He swears if he’s not buried inside you in the following minutes, he’ll combust.

He pulls back a little, the chain slipping slightly, colliding with his lips as he talks again, "And this fucking chain," he says, fingertips hooking underneath the metal, pulling until it's taut against your neck. It chokes you slightly, leaves you breathless.

“Shoulda never given you this fucking chain,” he growls the words out, his fist taking up the place of his teeth, clenching around the chain and tugging slightly until your lips are against his. You don’t move. You can’t; you’re choked. But if you said you didn’t love it, you’d be a liar.

You moan out a breathless sigh of his name, groaning when his hips thrust forward, just once. Enough so you can feel him, heavy and hard against your core. “Wanna fuck you in nothing but that chain and the pretty little ring on your hand," he admits into your neck, tongue running along your neck, hitting the edge of the cool metal.

"Please." The word barely leaves your mouth before Matty’s hands find your hips, turning them until your chest is against the wall, his mouth buried into your neck as he grinds his cock against your arse.

“Fucking hell,” he says, groaning once before he steps back. You turn again and your eyes find his dark stare. The way he runs a hand through his hair as the other is fumbling with his belt has you sighing, head falling back against the door. He peers your body as his hand continues to struggle with his pants.

You reach forward and grab his hands, halting his failed attempts, easily undoing the belt buckle and slipping the leather from it. You sneak under the waistband of his trousers and tug at it until he’s in between your legs again. You then find the zip, pulling it down torturously slowly whilst you smirk up at him.

“Here I was thinking you were going to be a good girl, but you just can't help but tease me, can you?” He says. You coyly shake your head up at him, biting your bottom lip. You watch the way his eyes somehow darken further, a near impossible feat.

“You prefer me this way,” you say as you finally tug down his trousers, not bothering to waste any more time and tugging his underwear down too. Your eyes fall to him, enthralled with the way his hard member snaps up against his abdomen. He watches as your mouth opens and he smirks.

A hundred ideas flash through his mind. He debates pushing you down to your knees and fucking your throat until you behave like his good girl. He toys with the idea of stripping you and fucking you against the wall until you crumble around him. Right now, he much prefers the idea of watching you strip for him, until your jewellery shines on you and your thighs glisten for him. So he steps back, inching further away from you. You try to take a step towards him, but a singular tutt has you freezing.

“Who said you can move?” He says, moving further back until his legs hit the sofa. You watch as he lowers himself, legs parting and hand wrapping around the base of his cock.

All the air in your body, the room and probably his body too, could be taken away with the deep inhale you take. It makes him chuckle, a mean sound that would make you pout if you weren’t as focused on his hand, slowly working up and down his cock. You watch the way his eyes never leave you, they trail up and down your body twice before he utters a word. The only word you need to hear.

“Strip.” His voice is perhaps the deepest you’ve ever heard it and it shocks you. It has you freezing up.

“I said,” he says, hand stopping at the base of his cock again, he squeezes slightly, “strip!”

You’re unsure whether to strip quickly or make a show of it. You opt for the later, deciding that if he made you wait, you could do the same. You could torture him far worse than he could you and you were certain of it.

Both of your hands weave into your hair, you pull it up, revealing your neck, tying it into a sleek ponytail, knowing the things it did to Matty. He instantly regrets his decision but knows he can’t back down now. His hand moves slowly against himself, working himself up, teasing himself, just like he knew you would.

He watches your neck like a hawk. He swallows when you do, seeing the way the chain shifts slightly. The hands once in your hair drifts down your body slowly, inching across the curve of your breasts, dipping in at the waist before beginning to trail down your legs. One hand continues whilst the other finds the zip at the side of your skirt. He swears the sound of the zipper is amplified, and he can hear his heart beating in his ears. He sees the fabric loosen slightly, watches as you turn, tugging down the fabric slowly, revealing the lace of your underwear inch by inch.

“Fuck,” he says when your arse is revealed to him. He wants to move forward, to reach out and touch you or spank you, but your movements have him frozen. The lace bodysuit you wear clings to your body perfectly, the thong of it revealing you practically entirely to Matty, the swells of your arse that he loves so much virtually begging to be bitten. He nearly cums right then and there when you bend slightly, hand finding the clasp of your heels.

“No” you stand and look over your shoulder “keep them on”

"Good girl, now turn."

You turn back around slowly, eyes snapping to his hand again, staring intently at the way his veins swell as his hand works himself slowly. Far too slowly. You know Matty, perhaps more than he knows himself. You had received a plethora of phone calls from the curly haired man when he was on tour, calls where his hand would be wrapped around his cock and he'd be groaning down the phone the minute you picked up, begging you to join him on tour, telling you how much he missed being buried in your tight cunt. You remember those moments well and you distinctively remember the sounds, the movement of his fist far quicker than his current pace.

He was teasing himself, just like he knew you would.

"Are you just going to stand there or are you going to give Daddy the show he deserves?" His voice snaps you out of your thoughts. It's deep and commanding and it has your fingertips eagerly finding the poppers of your bodysuit.

They come undone with a "pop" that seems to ring around the room, only drowned out when Matty thrusts his hips upwards into his hand, groaning as his eyes fall to your core. The sound he lets out lets you know he likes what he sees. And boy does he like it.

"Fucking hell" he says, hand momentarily halting its movements. You watch his dark eyes flick from your folds to your eyes, he bites his lip and he sighs.

"Fucking dripping" he bites his lip for a moment before his mouth is opening again but you cut him off before he can continue.

"All for you daddy" you sigh, hands finding the fabric around your waist and hitching it upwards a little revealing more of yourself to him.

"Really?" His hand continues, he groans and his eyes shut but they open a second later, trained on you again.

"Of course Matty" you say, he scolds you, you apologise, correcting yourself "daddy". You don't miss the way he smirks and mumbles a "good girl".

"What with the way you were flirting with George… I wasn't sure" your mouth opens at that and a mean chuckle falls from his lips.

“Matty” the name falls from your lips softly and he doesn't correct you this time, His eyes soften but only slightly and he allows you to step towards him.

You walk until you're towering over him and you sigh when his hands clamp around your thighs, running up and down the skin, goosebumps and shivers forming.

“What is it hmm? Feeling guilty that you made me feel this way?” You know he's committing to the bit, degrading you only slightly so you could both get what you want. Hot, hard and heavy fucking.

Your lip ruts out slightly in a pout and you nod. Matty copies you before he smirks slightly. You place one hand on his clothed shoulder and hike your leg over his lap, one at a time, slowly lowering yourself down onto him.

He sits hard and heavy against your cunt and you both sigh as he ruts up against you. Both of you want nothing more than for him to hitch his hand around the base of his cock and thread himself through your folds, but this was a cat and mouse game now, and he didn't want to be the first one to break.

He wanted to break you, until you were begging for him to fuck you. He could easily lean forward and press his lips to your neck but two lean fingers hook under the chain and he tugs. He uses the hand that was wrapped around him, the remnants of his pre cum coating the skin near his knuckles. Stickiness that has bubbled over as he tortured himself.

One jerk of his hand and his teeth are enclosing round your throat. His other hand grips your hip firmly.

“Show me how bad you want it” the hand on your hip forces you to roll them, giving you permission to take control of your movements. You're hesitant at first, eyes flicking down to his lips, watching the way he bites the bottom one. You finally roll your hips forward against his, revelling in the way his hands grip your hip and the way he lets out a low grunt.

You repeat the motion, rutting against him slowly, making your eyes flutter and a sigh fall from your mouth. You roll your hips forward again, Matty surprising you with a thrust of his own hips, the tip of him jolting against your swollen clit. It has you throwing your head back and a blissful moan falling from your lips.

You feel Matty hook his hands under the chain, gently pulling until you're looking at him. He smiles when he sees your eyes, blown out and completely wild.

“My beautiful wild girl” his other hand clamps around your hips, forcing you to apply more pressure. He knew how to get your begging for his cock and your current movements just weren't enough. You were playing it safe and safe isn't what he wants.

“My sweet, sweet girl” his name falls from your lips again and he tutts.

“I said show me how bad you want it” he thrusts up then and it's as if he's shocked you into motion.

Your hand clamps around his shoulder, hips moving backwards and forward harshly against.

“Fuck Matty… you're so hard, feels so good” you lean forward to claim his neck with your lips. They move against the skin, teeth nipping here and there, noticing the way his breath picked up. Little grunts slipping from his lips. You feel the tilt of his head, down, you didn't need to pull away to know what he was staring at.

“I need you so bad Matty” you beg. He knows you do, he can feel it. A small “fuck” slips from his lips and his hands clamps down on your hips, slowing your movements. You can feel the way he twitches beneath you, so close. You were winning and he didn't even know it. You had hardly begged and here he was, precum leaking against your folds, eyes trained on your cunt and the way his hardness was coated in you.

“Only you can make me feel like this, just you Matty, only ever you” he pulls you back from his neck at those words, smearing his lips against yours as he forces you to raise your hips. You feel the tip of him at your entrance, you sigh into his mouth and he swears.

“Yeah? Only me?” He says, his words moulding against her mouth, tongue teasing hers as he smirks, on hand clamping round the base of him whilst the other lowers her hips down onto him. They sigh in tandem, both groaning when he finally bottoms out.

“Prove it to daddy, princess”

Taglist: @scooby-doodoo @thereisaplaceintheheart @promocodesorry75 @eaglestar31 @thefrontofmymind @fallingforel @partoftheairforce @procrastinatinglikeapro @poisonmedaddy13 @xthe1975 @all-things-fic @jstbeeingme @rossgirly @juliardk @you-muppet @moodyyyychickx @k4tie75 @insidemymind19 @zzzhealy @maybeiwouldlikeyou @at-her-very-foreign @not-alien-girl-v @sinarainbows @friedlandblog @momentum2023 @youlooklikeshitandyousmellabit @inhalerbea @sugerkane1001 @kurtswrldbrainrot @yukizaldi (add yourself using the link in my bio 😊, those with a line through are the ones i couldn’t tag)

[misslaevna]

𝐼𝓉'𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓁𝒾𝓉𝓉𝓁𝑒 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈

pairing: Chuuya x fem!reader genre: fluff summary: wholesome headcannons about how this gentleman appreciates his girl ♡ trigger warnings: none requested by: @froggirly here you go dear, hope you'll like it! ♡ requesting and masterlist

When he was taking you out on your first date, Chuuya purchased a new cologne just for that occasion. It was something softer, something little sweeter than what he was usually wearing, something that… had a little bit of you in it. 

Ever since you complimented the new cologne, he hasn’t been wearing anything else, especially when he knows he’s gonna be spending time with you. When he takes you into his arms and your chest rises when you take his scent in and a soft smile appears on your face, it makes him feel like the luckiest man in the world - and the least he can do is use a cologne you really like on him.

Jewelry. Given his early work in the Mafia, he developed a fine eye for fine jewels, especially gold and diamonds, and he knew what color gold and what kind of diamonds would suit you the best from the moment he laid eyes on you.

Probably the reason why he nailed the necklace and the medal he gifted you on your first anniversary.

And probably why he chose such an exquisite, yet elegant and stunning ring, which he’s been hiding at the bottom drawer of his desk in his office at the Mafia HQ… waiting for the perfect moment to put it on your finger.

Never in your relationship has his etiquette failed him - wherever he takes you, he opens the door for you, pulls your chair out for you, takes off your coat and showers you with gentleman treatment.

Whenever you’re out or even when you’re at home and he stands next to you, his hand automatically wraps around your waist and pulls you a little closer to him. He not only loves showing you off, he enjoys that every time you let yourself be closer to him, that every time you lean your head on his shoulder or caress his back - he knows you want to belong to him just as much as he wants to belong to you.

When a kiss is going to hold extra meaning, especially after he tells you ‘I love you’, first he always puts his thumb and index finger on your chin to lift your head up a little, so your eyes would meet with his, and only then does he lean into a passionate, longing kiss.

Whenever you’re staying in for the night and choose to just slowly sip away on a bottle of wine on the couch, your hands wander up his hair, gently wrapping your fingers around his red strands, here and there slowly caressing his cheeks - and he melts whenever you do it. Slowly but surely he will lose his train of thought, unable to focus on anything but on your touch, and he eventually ends up laying his head down on your lap and spreading out on the couch, enjoying every minute of you pampering him.

Usually he’s the one who wakes up first in the mornings. Half asleep, he turns towards you and takes in the sight of his beautiful girlfriend peacefully sleeping next to him - and he’s more than beyond grateful that this is what he gets to wake up to every morning. 

Although he hasn’t told this to you before, he strongly believes that you bring out a side of him that he’s never experienced before you entered his life. A side which is so raw, intense, yet nurturing and protective, something which ignites a fire inside him, yet feels like a cool shower in hot summer afternoons - something which he can only describe is something really, beautifully, truly human. 

You’re the one who truly makes him feel like not only a true human, but a man - and he’s dead set on keeping you beside his side to make you shine like his lady deserves to shine.

♡.﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀﹀.♡

hope you enjoyed it! ♡

I feel like this was very much very much needed after Penance lkdsjaks

[rainroses45]

A Lover & Fighter

☾description: Neteyam realizes something important about your relationship (Neteyam x fem. reader)

☾a/n: i wrote this at night because i need a sad word dump…anywho i tried (not edited :))

☾song inspiration: try-pink (sped up) & teen suicide - haunt me (x3)

⋆｡°✩ ⋆⁺｡˚⋆˙‧₊✩₊‧˙⋆˚｡⁺⋆ ✩°｡⋆

Her hair was laced in beaded braids. Her necklaces hung from her neck like medals. The twinkle of hope and despair infused with one another in scent of glistening power. With each moment of silence the clan knew she was conspiring a better idea. Every war call, meant there was a forest filled with blood shed. The simple glance of her marmalade eyes, could defuse any fear inside a companion’s heart, but could cause any enemy a loss of color.

No one knew of her parents, nor how she came to be conceived. She was a wild horse in the pasture filled with snow ball sheep. Not a threat at first, but never mistake the power of a liberated spirt.

Neteyam was the fool in this game of hearts. He tried to soothe her into his arms with sweet praises of temptation. He tried to connivance her that they were meant to be. How he had known her his entire life. He read her in poems, pictured her in many songs, watched the flowers blossom and thought she might like them too. He was a fool, such a fool to fall for a girl without a future.

A sudden smack stung Neteyam’s cheek. His thoughts suddenly faded away with the wind, leaving his mind blank. A hand print darken his face as bubbling rage spread through him like a wildfire.

His cocky laugh irritated Neteyam with passion. Only an idiot would hit the son of Toruk Makto on the face, an idiot indeed. Auayew stood there proud and tall as he saw the masterpiece form on his opponent’s cheek. In no way was Neteyam considered a fighter, but at this very moment a new sense of thinking sported with in him. Maybe it was time to change that?

Before Neteyam could defend another blow, she came. Her soft hands pulled Auayew away from his body and soon they did ruins. Each punch caused another flood of tears to pursue down his bruised face. Drops of liquid metal began to pour out of his mouth. She didn’t care though - she never did.

He stood there and watched in awe. Even as her face stayed still like the sand, her eyes showed waves of fury crashing upon one another. Her hair flowed in the wind as the beads rattled in a warning.

Emerald stones embodied her skin with grace. Sparkling stars twinkled across her skin in series of aggravated kisses. Harsh strokes of red scattered across her body, blemishing and staining her like a tarnished painting. She was the definition art, she wasn’t the most beautiful women in the world, but she made you feel something real. And that - that is what truly mattered when loving her.

“I suggest you get out of here before I stop pulling my punches.” Her words caused him to shiver in awe. Her stance was so powerful, so surreal and inspiring. He watched as Auayew scurried away, holding his nose in pain. It brought a smile on Neteyam’s face to see him suffer a little.

“Are you okay?” His heart felt like it was about to erupt from his chest. The pain from his cheek was long forgotten, unlike thoughts of her.

“Oh yeah, it didn’t hurt me that much,” he tried shrugging off her intimidating gaze. It was enchanting to stare into her eyes from a far, but up close it made him feel nervous and insecure. Was he good enough for her?

“Are you sure?” She asked again with a softer gaze. A smile bloomed on her face as she heard him let out a nervous laugh.

“Yeah..I- I’m not much of a fighter.” He stumbled upon his words trying to find the right phase in describing his pervious actions. “I just don’t want to cause a scene.”

“I like that.” Her words had caused him to finally look up. She was even prettier in person. Her golden leaf diadem floated around her head like a halo of life. Strands of her hair wired around the air as they tried to escape with the leaves worryingly in the breeze.

“You do?” His wide eyes, maybe he didn’t need to change. Why would he need to change when she already liked him like that.

“Yeah, not everyone needs to be a fighter. We need more lovers to converse with.” True words fled her mouth, but he thought differently.

“I think fighters are lovers. They are just more passionate about their love.” His words clearly sparked something inside her because you could clearly see it radiate on her face.

Neteyam truly believed his heart couldn’t suppress the yearning to break free any longer, that was until she fell to the ground in laughter. Like an angel falling down from her throne of faith, she laid there open and free, allowing herself to enjoy the humor of it all. Her laugh was contagious causing him to go down laughing as well.

“Oh oh that’s absolutely brilliant, but unfortunately I’m not a lover..” She looked over at him in curiosity, his name was never given to her as a keepsake. He caught on this rather quickly and awkwardly.

“Neteyam, my name is Neteyam,” her eyes lit up in realization, and soon they filled with sadness. Quickly, she turned away to look back up at the trees. A soothing shade crept over their bodies and left them to enjoy the cool moss.

“My name’s Y/n.” He already new her sweet name backwards and forwards, but for that moment he pretended he didn’t.

“That’s a lovely name.” She didn’t respond back to his complement, instead she chose to bathe her self in the natural music of Pandora.

It wasn’t until the sun ripened that the she got up from her spot. She didn’t look back at him, but stayed staring at the new painted sky.

“Tomorrow, I am joining the warriors on a mission.” Neteyam’s heart sank with those words. Truly, she was not serious.

“What?” He felt like crying in despair. How? How could it be? Just when he got to enjoy the moonlight sinatra with her, she was going to leave to battle. Of course, this was not her first time battling in a war against the sky people, but this upcoming one was different. He had eavesdropped last night on the plans for tomorrow. It was going to be a gruesome fight, and the clan knew some would not make it.

“When I come back, maybe we could go enjoy the sunset and sunrise together.” There were no tears pricking from her eyes. She chose this title, and now she must live up to it. Unlike Neteyam, she had no parents to carefully guide her through right choices. Y/n was pushed into the world with no responsibility, so when the opportunity of fighting for her clan showed up. She took it.

He didn’t have time to respond, for she gathered her weapons and left. Neteyam didn’t sleep well that night, he was too busy wondering if she was dreaming about today.

The next day when the fellow participants gathered to leave, Neteyam stayed behind the crowd and watched. He saw her standing there. Her head held high and her posture tall. Not an ounce of fear reeked from her soul, yet a dreary cloud floated over her. He wanted to ask her why so blue? Hoping maybe it would make her laugh, but they already began to depart. He prayed Eywa would talk care of her.

When news of their return spread amongst the na’vi, he dropped his bow and arrow, quickly running towards the base to greet her. Frantic voices surrounded Neteyam’s ears as he watched swarms of medics wrap our them. It wasn’t until a set of marmalade eyes hit him that he figured out what happened.

And as the blood fell from her hands in exhausting amounts, Neteyam realized something. He realized there would never be a chance to capture her heart, for her heart would turn to stone from the amount of life lost. She would be buried the same year she shall prosper, not because of her ego, but it was in her nature. People like her weren’t meant to last long. They were too great to be tarnishing the lands with prosperity. Y/n would die young, and Neteyam would grow old carrying on the memory of his first romantic love. It was written it stars, it was being written right now.

[eggcompany]

Julian, On My Knees Part 2

“Oh fuck- alpha-” It was faint. Muffled. Followed by some thuds from the wall in front of Geralt’s large desk. 

The alpha slipped his headphones off to hear it clearer. He’d been working on some spreadsheets, calm music keeping him focused. It was hard to ignore it though, his computer screen wobbling when the wall was knocked. It was harder to ignore when he could hear the little sounds. 

“Oh fuck- damnit- please alpha. Gods, so big” It was Jaskier, that voice all small. 

Where was he? In the closet? Had to be in the closet with how it seemed only inches away from Geralt, the only place that didn’t get soundproofing, the doors were soundproof but not inside the closet. 

“Oh alpha, fuck, where is- ah!” Jaskier whimpered, letting out a sigh before there was some tussling. Geralt was about to get up and ask if Jaskier was okay but then there was a moan. A high, whiney, and ending in a hiss. 

Geralt could only imagine what was filling the omega to make him make such a noise. It made the alpha’s breath get caught for just a second. Just enough for Geralt to really dial in for the next round of huffy noises and knocks against the wall in a rhythm, easy slow thuds, working up but smooth and even. Geralt’s mind was flooded with images of the omega fucking himself, filling himself, making himself cum mear inches away. It made him dizzy, burning up under his collar, heat radiating under his desk. 

Geralt put his headphones back on. He put them back on, cranked up the volume and sternly decided to ignore the wobbling of his computer. 

The next time it happened he pulled the desk away from the wall. 

Each time he was sat at his desk, working or reading or doing anything else and started to hear those thuds and knocks, he put his headphones back on and cranked them up. He just pretended not to hear, not to know what Jaskier was doing inches away, pretended his palms didn’t itch to touch, that his blood didn’t rush around to unsightly places. He treated Jaskier the same, Jaskier was an adult man who had needs, just like Geralt himself. He was entitled to take care of his needs in the warmth and safety of his own home. 

Their routine kept going, Jaskier got a new job at a flower shop and had a steady schedule, Geralt won an award at work and introduced Jaskier to his brothers. 

‘You guys do not look alike.’ Jaskier had said, peering at the two alphas. They seemed nice enough. The red headed one seemed a bit… jumpy. 

‘We’re not that kind of brothers, Julian, more like brothers in arms.’ Geralt explained and the older one nodded, the jingle Jaskier had become accustomed to ringing in the air. 

‘Oh… You guys all have those silver medals?’ Jaskier asked, having already talked to Mister Rivia about his fancy necklace. 

‘Yeah, we earned those when we were your age.’ The eldest witcher said with a smile and Jaskier laughed loudly, he had no idea how old Mister Rivia was but it sounded awfully funny. 

‘Gods, that makes you sound old, Eskel’. Geralt said, facepalming as he shook his head. 

Jaskier liked the two other alphas, he liked knowing about Geralt’s friends. 

They were happy, they watched TV shows at night, Geralt didn’t mind dragging drunk Jaskier back to bed when he just made it inside the door, Jaskier liked pretending he didn’t notice Geralt taking naps on the couch after he covered the alpha up with a blanket. They liked each other’s company, liked their privacy too. 

Which made Geralt feel even worse when one day, it was a stormy day in the spring, he didn’t put his headphones on when those knocks started against the wall. 

He listened. 

He listened to the thuds and the sweet whines and sounds that were all filtered through guitar calloused hands. He closed his eyes, focusing on the way Jaskier’s breath hitched up, how he called for alpha, how at the very end, Jaskier got silent like he was holding his breath before letting out a sob and cried quietly. 

It was overwhelming, it made the alpha feel like he’d run a mile. And it was like he’d gotten a release too. He hid away in his bathroom, turned on the shower to hide his own grunts as he tugged himself to completion. It was the best release he’d had in… well since Yennefer left. He felt good because omega felt good too, he always loved knowing omega felt good too. Another reason he and Yennefer would never work out as Alpha and Beta, Geralt needed an omega to make purr and whine. 

And he kept listening. It was… therapeutic almost. It made Geralt happy to know he was the alpha of the house again. That he made the omega feel safe. Jaskier didn’t need to know, the omega was happy. Geralt only felt the guilt when he was washing his own cum off his hand, before walking into the living room and seeing a smiling, content omega. And even then, the fresh scent of a baby wipe couldn’t hide the honey scent that Jaskier gave off after a nice orgasm. 

Then one day, the day Jaskier’s heat was going to start, Geralt heard a knock at his bedroom door. It was timid, the first knock was light like he was thinking of turning away but threw himself into the second knock. 

“Mister Rivia? Can-Uh I um- Will you- Can we-” Jaskier sputtered out through the door before Geralt pulled it open. 

Jaskier’s knees buckled a bit at the tall alpha standing in the doorway in just his pajama pants and glasses. 

He liked Geralt in a way that made him feel all stupid in his head, it wasn’t a burning want to fuck, it was more than wanting to make the alpha happy. He guessed it was because Geralt went through those weird changes that came with being a parent. The change of smell and the different hormones that got released. 

Jaskier craved it, stole the smell from the couch cushions, the throw blankets on the recliner chair, the dirty coffee mugs in the sink. Wherever he could get a whiff of that smell, he was drooling for it. And standing in front of him smelling like safety and comfort with his big broad, hairy, beautiful torso on show, Jaskier felt like fainting. Especially with one of those huge arms still thrown to the side on the open door only making the veins, the muscles, the spattering of scars look all the more attractive. 

“Yes Julian? It’s early.” Geralt asked, holding back a yawn as he watched Jaskier space out. It only took Geralt a moment to realize he was in a state of undress, which only made him tick with pride. Jaskier shook his head a bit, shaking himself back in focus and the increasingly more inappropriate thoughts away. 

“Uh um, can I have a hug? From you. To help me.” Jaskier bit out when Geralt raised an eyebrow at him. He swallowed, already nervous but only losing his will. 

“Why?” Geralt asked, wanting to know if this was one of those hugs Jaskier wanted when he was drunk and actually wanted him to be carried to bed, or something else like those quick little hugs Jaskier gave when Geralt brought him lunch at the flower shop or drove him home in the rain. 

Jaskier looked away as his face burned, it was embarrassing. Geralt was house alpha and nice but he was older and mated already and it was so not cool to have such a huge enormous crush on him… but his heat was starting and he was getting all weird, wires crossed and stuff. Geralt would understand. 

“I’m gonna go into heat and I have bad anxiety and hugging you, an-um-an older alpha like you, could help. It’s silly, nevermind, it was rude to-” Jaskier said and turned away to hide back in his room but Geralt was wrapping his strong arms around the boy in a tight embrace. Jaskier froze for a second, gasping. But then felt like melting, he’d always just given Mister Rivia a quick squeeze, but now? He felt each thump of the alpha’s heartbeat, his warm skin, he could feel the alpha’s cheat hair through his own thin nightshirt. It was incredible, he couldn’t help but lean into it, taking in the alpha’s scent, his warmth. 

Geralt could feel the tension melting from the boy's muscles with each breath. It made something rumble within his own chest, knowing Julian felt safe enough to relax into the embrace. He liked the soft little sighs, almost directly in his ear since they were nearly the same height, the powdery smell Jaskier always had clinging to his skin before his heat.

“Thank you, Mister Rivia” Jaskier breathed out and wrapped his own arms around the alpha, lax and loose around his trim waist. He couldn’t help but lean against Geralt’s solid body, he was so warm. 

Geralt couldn’t help but focus in on Jaskier’s hands where they landed on the small of his back, rough and calloused, strong, and freezing cold. But he couldn’t care, couldn’t make himself pull away, just stood there holding the omega in his bedroom doorway. 

“Thank you, Mister Rivia. I feel a lot better. I-I really appreciate it, I’ll definitely make it up to you!” Jaskier said as he pulled away, smiling wide enough the edges of his eyes crinkled a bit. Geralt grunted, unable to push out a word without reaching out for the omega again. Jaskier headed back to his room, the powdery scent turning sweeter with each step until the door was shut behind him. 

And Geralt waited. He sat at his desk reading the same sentence over and over again. He knew he should put his headphones on, should go out, should leave the flat. But he was just sitting and reading at his desk, not his comfy chair or in bed, at his desk. He was finally about to get up, shame welling up inside of him, embarrassed he was snooping on his own flatmate, his friend, one of his best friends at that. 

Till those thuds and sounds of the omega climbing into the closet. Geralt couldn’t help as he closed the book and let his forehead rest against the desk, shame filled him but those little huffs Jaskier was already letting out. He let his eyes fall closed, focusing in on each sound, mere inches away. 

“Oh Mister Rivia… alpha… I need it- I can take it this time. I know I can.” Jaskier said to himself like he was willing  himself up, giving himself courage. 

Jaskier had pulled himself into his nest, pulling his blankets around him, getting comfy as he could on the pallet he’d created. His hands were shaking, still feeling each inch of Mister Rivia’s skin, his hot breath, his scent. Jaskier was already rushing towards his heat, a warm ache rolling through his hips. He had his knotting dildo in his hand, the small soft little thing it was. He had everything he needed to get there, to knot himself to the scent, the feel of a proper alpha. He just had to actually.. Do it. 

“I can do this. I can take your knot. I can do it.” Jaskier whispered and squeezed his eyes shut, picturing up an alpha, oh his alpha, his brain supplied easily. Mister Rivia bare and warm, that stunning little smile he does when he’s teasing Eskel, all trouble and risk, and his hands. 

Jaskier reached down to feel his damp hole, his cock attempting to give a twitch. He just touched the outside, rim still loose from the night before, having snuck one of his regular dildos into the shower. He was loose, wet, mind full of images of his alpha. 

Geralt kept listening, pushing himself closer to the wall, catching each word, each whimper. He let his own hand sit on the top of his thigh, not touching his swelling cock, but close. 

“I can take a knot. Omegas like knots, I can take a knot.” The omega whimpered and then there was a lot of quiet huffing and panting. He could hear Jaskier shifting around, knees knocking the walls, shouldering around. Geralt wanted to touch the wall, be just a little closer, wanted to lay a hand on Jaskier’s back to settle him. 

Then Jaskier gasped, a high whine, not quite one Geralt had heard before. It was singsongy, carrying, like the ones Jaskier usually let out. 

“Oh Mister Rivia please please please please” Geralt stared at the wall. Blinking. He reached out, let his hand lay on the wall. Jaskier sounded… like he was begging. Not sweet begging of ‘oh more! Give me more alpha!’ but begging like when he begged Geralt to hug him after drunkenly puking in the kitchen sink. 

“Mister Rivia please, I can take it. I can do it. God that hurts. Damnit. Okay okay okay I got it. I can do this. I hafta.” Jaskier was blubbering, voice watery and broken. It hurt Geralt, made something in his chest ache, like a broken rib, but then the harder Jaskier cried it turned into a sharper pain. Each sob, each gasping breath, it was like stepping on broken glass. 

He left his bedroom, standing in the living room, staring at the omega’s door. He didn’t know what to do, his hands itched to pet the omega, to calm him, settle him, make him stop crying. But his devilish body… it wanted something else. His cock throbbed in his pajama pants, he knew he was letting off a scent he always kept in, his heart was beating fast in his chest, entire being begging to go give Jaskier something good to heat on. 

He was shaken from his fevered thoughts by a yelp. 

“Fuck! Damnit!” It was louder, Geralt would be able to hear it if he was away from the shared wall. And of course he’d be concerned. So he walked up to the door, stopping a few feet away, wanting nothing more to pull the door open and get in. 

“Julian?” He called out, hearing some movement, the closet door calmering open and something falling to the floor. 

“Sorry Mister Rivia, I stubbed my toe. I’m okay! Don’t worry!” Jaskier said back, having just thrown himself out of his nest. His legs not working from the need and refusal of a knot. He reached for his bed, the towel he’d slept on. 

“Alright. If you need anything, text me. I’m going to the gym.” Geralt lied. He needed to walk down to somewhere private to jerk off and then walk off his knot. He grabbed his sweatshirt from the coat hooks by the front door and barely waited for an answer from the omega. It would be worse to wait and be caught with a clear view of his situation in his pants. 

“Oh okay Mister Rivia! Have fun! I’m gonna nap, I think.” Jaskier lied as he used his towel to wipe his teary face. He was just thankful Mister Rivia hadn't walked in on him struggling to get the smallest little knot into himself. 

He sat there on his floor for a good long while, letting himself cry. He just felt ashamed, ugly, worthless. He couldn’t even get a knot in with the help of an alpha. Couldn’t even stop himself for crying out for a mated alpha, his best friend, his guide, his- 

Jaskier cried harder, his heat making his head so mixed up, he cried harder because Mister Rivia wasn’t ‘his’ anything. 

“Hi Mister Rivia! Um  I had to go to the clinic and they gave me some meds and stuff but I have to keep them cold but right now I need to clear a space in my fridge in my room so I put them in the fridge out here. I'm sorry. It takes up a lot of space, I promise I’ll have it out of the way by tomorrow. I just don’t feel well enough to move and reorganize everything today.” Jaskier said in a flurry as he saw the alpha for the first time in a week, his heat having made him sick after. His face burned up, not only from embarrassment but also from the fever that was working through him. He couldn’t meet Geralt’s eyes, the thought of the alpha seeing the huge jug of enema solution stuffed in the back of the fridge was mortifying. Having the alpha know what Jaskier was going to have to do to himself. 

Geralt had been making himself a mug of coffee, needing the pick me up from the meeting he’d just finished downtown. 

“The bottle that you hid behind your milk and creamer?” Geralt asked, having already noticed the medicated bottle, glancing at the label out of concern. It wasn’t a big deal, omegas got congested and Jaskier had heating issues anyway. Enemas were pretty average, Geralt didn’t think anything of it other than a swift ‘oh poor puppy’. 

“Yessir, and please don’t go in my bathroom. I have stuff on my sink and it’s so embarrassing.” Jaskier said, hands coming up to cover his face, he was sure he’d burst into flames. Geralt patted his shoulder comfortingly, looking into the omega’s eyes. 

“I’m going to go to my friends to play cards and drink tomorrow night. I’ll be gone from about five till late, if I come home before morning at all.” Geralt said, hand heavy on Jaskier's shoulder. Understanding in his voice, knowing it would help Jaskier relax if he was out of the apartment for his little medicine treatment. 

The omega huffed and smiled looking up at Geralt through his lashes. His chest just swelled with something, something that made him relaxed. Something that made him feel warm in a different way, love, his brain supplied unhelpfully. 

“Thank you Mister Rivia. That- you’re such a good housemate. It’s really a stressful time for me and you’ve really been helping me. Thank you. I um, I got a tub of ice cream and you’re fully welcome to it! It’s good stuff, it’s super chocolatey too. I-I know you like that. Too.” Jaskier offered and patted Geralt’s hand where it was still on his shoulder. It was warm and strong and perfect and Jaskier’s head started to supply more ideas.  

“That’s generous Julian. Make sure to eat dinner. Something other than toaster pastries.” Geralt said and moved to go back to his room. An easy feeling rolled over him, the stress from the day of work, the phone calls, the meeting that was for shit, everything just washed away by a few words from the omega. 

“Yessir, goodnight Mister Rivia” Jaskier called out. As Geralt shut the door he looked back at the boy who was starting to rummage around the cabinets. 

“Goodnight Julian.” He said quietly, just glancing at the boy’s neck, the peachy blush of his mate glands. Geralt shut the door and sat at his desk, head in his hands. 

“Fuck”

[mirai1269]

Shower thought: Leon successfully manages to kill Vincent, but this somehow ends up killing the MC. To save the MC, Leon must save Vincent from being killed by his past self.

This was a dream that turned into a nightmare.

He remembers standing by Vincent's wheezing self. The red head's face was drenched in blood, he was basically drowning in it. The sight gave Leon satisfaction. But it was simply a little snack for his hunger, and the taste started to bore him.

"Your breathing is quiet irritating. And here I am, running late."

One final blow with the metal and the pest remained silent forever. Leon could only bother to clean his weapon with the bottle of water he always carried with himself, which he then stabbed into a pile of trash, away from his "playground".

Then a week passed. It was like he never had to worry about anything. Even now, on their 2nd date, there were no doubts in the back of his mind.

He could only see the gentle smile MC gave him.

The starry eyes, full of love reflecting his face.

Those same eyes lost their spark in a matter of seconds.

The rosy cheeks slowly turned pale, only colored by MC's own blood. Only warmed by Leon's tears.

"N-no... this can't be... help... someone HELP!!"

The ambulance ride was infuriatingly long. The air in the waiting room was sufficating.

When the doctor broke the news to him, he couldn't believe it at first.

"I'm sorry. There was nothing we could do."

Once the words were realised, it took everything in him not to turn the room into a wasteland.

Soon enough, Newt was informed of his brother's death. Poor boy was screaming, begging Leon to tell him he was just telling him a sick joke. Even after half an hour he couldn't hold his tears in.

The next week, they held a small memorial, then burried his body in the nearby cemetery.

"In the memory of a loving brother and loving partner." The quote read under his name and the years of his birth and deaths on his tombstone.

Leon stood by the grave, recounting their shared memories, while caressing the cold metal medal on his necklace.

It was a gift, the last gift he had got from MC. After the boy learned that Leon somehow lost his arrow shaped one (which was the first ever gift MC had given him), he surprised him with this.

The sharp edges of the half heart shaped medalion made him feel empty inside. He no longer had the energy to cry nor to scream.

Suddenly, the sound of slow footsteps caused him to snap out of his thoughts, but he didn't look behind, thinking they might be visiting someone else. But the growing volume started to make him more catious. Once the stranger stopped, something was thrown onto the grave. Leon immediatelly reconized it.

"Is that... my necklace?!"

Confused, the boy turned around to demand an explanation.

The loud sound of a gun shot echoed through the cemetery. As fast as he turned, Leon fell to the ground with a big thud. The enviornment around him quickly turned black, he didn't even feel pain.

-------------------------------------------------------

"Ugh... ugh..."

The tall boy opened his eyes, the comforting sight of his bedroom slightly easing the constricting feeling of anxiety inside his chest.

"Just... a nightmare..."

Leon put his head back onto his pillow, a relieved sigh leaving his mouth. His arm reached for his phone, but all he grasped was air. Confused, he sat up to see his empty nightstand. Weird, he doesn't remember putting his phone anywhere else last night.

CRASH!

The sudden noise made him jump in his seat. Catiously he sneaked out of his room and made his way to where the noise came from, the kitchen. What he saw in there made him reconsider if he was actually awake.

"What... who is that?!" The boy mumbled. Standing by the sink, soaked with soapy water stood... him? Well, the person looked exactly like him, the way he cursed sounded like him, but he couldn't have been him.

By luck, he caught a glimpse of his phone laying on the dinner table. Once his look-a-like turned back to washing the dishes he snatched the device and retreated to his hiding spot.

"6 a.m... it's....'that' day..." Leon mumbled. The boy looked back out to his döppelganger.

This doesn't make sense. If he really had just dreamt the whole thing, killing Vincent, MC's death and his own demise... then what's this guy doing in their kitchen?!

Looking around, he realizes something. This guy ate exactly was he ate on that day for breakfast. It's weird that he remembers, but for him, the day he could finally be rid of Vincent was supposed to be a happy one, a day of celebration.

Considering the date, it would be safe to assume that he either went back in time, or teleported into an alter dimension. He unlocked his phone to check something.

"Our photos are still here... 'those' photos are here too!"

Leon was now 100% convinced that he really did go back in time. But then, why was there a clone of himself in the house?

"Huh? Where's my phone?" The clone asked.

Sh*t!

As fast as he could, he bolted to the basement. This of course was heard by the other "Leon".

Once down, he closed the door. He needed a plan, fast! Unfortunately, his other self's angry banging on the door didn't make his planning easier.

"Oi! Get out!" The clone shouted. "I swear to god, if you don't get out in 10 seconds, I'll tear down this door! I'm serious, buddy!"

Oh, Leon knew he was serious. He was very aware of his capabilities. Which is why he needed to act fast. Luckily for him, he knew the basement like the back of his hand, even in this darkness.

As promised, once the seconds passed, the door was kicked off its hinges, revealing the angry clone, his eyes flashing in a bloodthirsty red.

"Say your last prayers!" 'Leon' snarled as he bashed his baseball bat against the wall. It left a concerningly large crack. With a flick of the lightswitch, the whole room was illuminated. With catious steps and descended down the creaking wooden stairs as his eyes scanned through the area.

Once at the bottom, a sly smirk rawled up to his face.

"You know... I can do this all day. Come out, and all you'll get is a broken leg."

Silence. He walked deeper into the room, his guard never lowering.

"...else, they'll have to glue you back together."

"-be my guest!"

The skull opened with a sickening crack. A metalic chime that rang through the room once the metal bat hit the concrete floor. The pink hair on the back of his head turned darker as blood dyed it. With a loud thud, the lifeless corpse hit the ground. The axe remained stuck, like a flag planted into soil.

Leon let out a sigh in accomplishment. He ran back to the kitchen for garbage bags. The hole in the wall left him worried.

"How will I explain this to mom and dad?"

-------------------------------------------

Sorry for the late answer! Really didn't meant to drag it out this long!

[koi-koi-fish]

0-8-4

March 15th, 2011.

Fury sits in his office staring at the monitor watching Captain America sitting in medical after his earlier escape attempt. He sighs. It's not every day a living legend comes back from the dead, beats dozens of your men, escapes a maximum security facility, and makes a scene in one of the most populous cities in the world. But the world finding out about Captain America's return is the least of his worries.

Just as Fury starts to get up, Agent Coulson enters the room holding a binder. "Ah, you're still in. Perfect." Agent Coulson says as he sets down the binder on Fury's desk. "Here's what we have so far on the 0-8-4 we fished up alongside the Captain."

Fury picks up the binder "Has she said anything since waking up?" he asks as he starts flipping through the pages. "Only her name, rank, serial number, and that she wants a lawyer," Agent Coulson says as he sits across from Fury.

The 0-8-4 identifies as 14 year old lieutenant colonel Tanya Von Degurachaff of the Polska-Prussian Union Empire. Her uniform resembles that of a Bavarian Chevaulegers cavalry uniform with rank insignia on the shoulders. Her ruby necklaces are likely rank and or noble regalia.

"She's too young for her rank. Since she's a noble perhaps she's an honorary officer. Purely ceremonial." Fury wonders outloud.

"I thought so too until her X-Rays came back." Agent Coulson says as he leans over and turns some pages on the binder.

"Her skeleton shows signs of several healed fractures. Some are estimated to be several years old. There were also metal fragments found in her body. Even if she was only a political appointment, she's tough enough to survive a battlefield and return for more," Agent Coulson says.

"Not to mention being frozen for over 60 years and surviving like Captain America," Fury thinks to himself.

Fury reads further. The alphabet on the documents and correspondence recovered from her person are closer to Scandinavian runes but essentially German grammatically. The most recent date found was correspondence dated February 5th, 1928, addressed to a Lieutenant Serebryakov wishing her a happy 21st birthday. The letter contained some chocolate. The medals on her person with the exception of the Iron Cross don't resemble any officially recognized medals of any nation past or present. Most of the medals are heavy with Norse mythological symbolism with the exception of the aforementioned Iron Cross and another with silver wings.

February 5th is the same day Captain America became frozen. "Just how likely is this to be a Hydra plot by the Red Skull?" Fury asks himself. Red Skull was overly obsessed with the occult, mythology, and the tesseract. It's possible that Tanya is one of his more fanatical followers that took after that motif. But that doesn't explain her DNA being different to regular humans.

Did Red Skull successfully create his own super soldier? That would explain her injuries. It's possible that there were others and that she was the only one to survive the process. But analysis shows no signs of a super soldier serum within her system like Captain America. Nothing about her adds up. Too much is unknown about her.

"Keep her under maximum surveillance for now. There is still too much we don't know about her." Fury says with a scowl.

"Understood boss," Agent Coulson says then leaves, closing the door behind him.

Fury leans back in his chair and rereads the binder. There's not enough information to go on and making assumptions gets people killed. Perhaps he should have the Captain interrogate her. He has the most experience with Hydra operatives of that time period.

Mulling that thought he sets down the binder and brings up the camera feed of Tanya's room only to be met with her looking directly at him sending a shiver down his spine.

[erigold13261]

“Failed Revolution”

Got an ask about their designs and decided to draw everyone!

Ask and notes on designs under the cut.

B2J: May lost her right arm so she uses a fuzzy sock to keep it warm. She has gained quite a collection of socks. She also cut her hair in solidarity with Zuke who had most of his hair cut off for head surgery, which is where he got the head scar from.

Zuke can’t close his left hand at all because of tendon damage. He also can’t walk long distances without a cane, which he could only afford a pretty cheap one but it gets the job done.

Tatiana/Kliff/West: Not much changes with their designs. Tatiana is just a bit more skinny, Kliff has a few white hairs, and West is a bit more unkempt (I also didn’t want to draw the pattern on his coat so yeah).

West also hasn’t found time to redo his henna tattoos so those are all gone right now. Plus he wears shoes a bit more.

DJSS: Still debating if Nova works for NSR at this moment, but whether they do or don’t, they aren’t dressing to impress anymore. Losing a lot of motivation, he just puts on one of his DJSS jackets that was defective and had no space designs to it (but still looks like his show jacket). His arms are also more noodle-y because he doesn’t try to keep them firm anymore. Space dust seeps out of the small cracks that have yet to be fully healed on his head. Because of this, no color is in their head, but it all seeps outside into the air.

Sayu (and Crew): Sayu is much more simple, both for animation sake and to ease the people of Vinyl City of her roboticness. She is also much smaller when she is out in the real world as a hologram. Tila, Remi, and Dodo all have longer hair (Dodo less so, but it’s still longer). Tila wears a long dress that she puts her jacket from canon over. Remi isn’t out publicly as transmasc yet but he doesn’t wear any kinds of dresses or skirts even though people around him expect him to. Not much changes for Dodo and Sofa except Dodo has a cybernetic voice/neck while Sofa is a bit more skinny because of an eating disorder/forced dieting from family.

Yinu and Mama: (I know it’s out of order, but I wanted to keep Neon+1010 next to each other). No longer are these two wearing any kind of red. Mama wears yellow to represent her keeping Yinu in her heart but also the flower lace shows how delicate their relationship is right now. Yinu on the other hand wears yellow and a full suit to be closer to her dad while avoiding any reds to stay away from her mother. Both of them have rooted hair, with Yinu’s roots being more wilted stems while Mama’s are just full on roots. Yinu still has a few flowers hanging onto her hair, but they lose petals a lot and will one day fully fall off if she doesn’t get some help in her life.

1010 and Neon: 1010 all have the same body with the same while lights. The only difference are the ties they wear and their heads. They have fully metal hair. Blue does not wear any sunglasses. Neon has a human head and does not wear his fluff unless going somewhere that might rain or get a bit chilly. He does not wear his medals, but does wear his wedding ring on a necklace under his sweater. He also doesn’t wear too much colors because he doesn’t see the point in it since he works with a lot of oily/messy machines (it’s easier to take off a jacket than de-oil-stain a sweater).

Eve: Eve still bases a lot of her outfit on Zuke like she originally did, but now she also bases it off of Tatiana. She tries to hide her red/pinkish skin under henna, mirrors, and crystals. She keeps illusion eyes out to help her keep watch of things around her. The peacock feathers and skirt are supposed to kinda look like a wedding dress, or the very least a fancy ball gown, to show she is married to her job (and to the ideas of people she has in her head). Also the glitter/stars on her skirt is mainly to piss off Nova (especially if he quit/was fired) because this is her way of saying she is better than him, as I feel the two’s relationship has gotten sour over the years.

[sartorialadventure]

Today's outfit! Yes, I know, I'm obsessed with crocheting these tams. Lol

Banana earrings: the bananas are popper toys I bought at Five Below and put on over-the-ear hooks. I always wear funky earrings on Mondays and Wednesdays because those are the days my office has Zoom meetings lol

Necklace is a Helios medal from Temu. Yarn for the hat from Joann's, I believe it's Red Heart brand. Socks from the Dollar Tree!

[pandagirl45]

Steve: *sees a gift box* *opens it seeing rhodey medal made into a necklace* wait

Steve: *lifts up* wait

Steve: *goes bright red* RHODES! you can't do that!!

Rhodey: *wearing Steve's dog tags furbished* what? We are married now by the way, if you like

Steve: *bright red still putting on the necklace* No take backs teddy

Rhodey: of course froggy *kisses his temple*

(Rhodey making Steve a necklace out of one his medals and wearing steve old tags, or even new ones, depends on you. Steve would be extra annoying around the press. Also, I'm a sucker for non-traditional stuff)

[corleonewrites]

Wandering winds

AU: The Terror (2018)

James Fitzjames x Original Female Character fanfic

Summary: Alexandra Walton’s life was always surrounded with sea: either it was her walks near the seashore with its cold waters, or deep sea of her senses. Her father taught her to throw herself headlong into it, without fear of being drowned and she used to it since her childhood. She dived into love with the same courageous way. And even when everything and everyone was talking about the hopeless state of things she continued to believe in the opposite: that her loved one will return to her safely.

Chapter 2. The Unseen its truth reveals

______________________________________________________________

That day in January when the reception for welcoming heroes of The First Opium War took place in the Admiralty was sunny but cold. It felt like the sky and the sun shared the joy with us.

Birds were singing peacefully on tree branches, when my room was in the chaos of preparations: the red-coloured evening gown made in the latest Parisian fashion with corset which needed to be laced tightly over my bodice and wide, sweeping skirt with layers of flounces and exposed shoulders was hanging on my wardrobe.

The opened small box with golden necklace with ruby inside of it was standing beside my writing table, waiting to be put around my neck: it belonged to my mother before and was passed down from generation to generation.

White boots with small heels were standing beside slightly opened door, leading to the corridor of family's house, where loud echo of my brother's footsteps in his lacquered boots could be heard.

My elder brother used to walk around the house when he was preparing for such events, and used to search for either his gloves or wax for boots.

He did the same thing the evening before our arrival to the Admiralty. Every detail of his look, his jacket, his medals on it, his sword and gloves: everything needed to shine. On that memorable evening in particular: my brother Commander Alexander Walton was one of heroes of The First Opium War.

______________________________________________________________

My family was one of the most noble naval dynasties in the United Kingdom:

Father was sea lord Admiral Lord Henry Walton; he held Arctic expeditions to discover passages and was among the first men ever to see the continent and the volcanoes. He retired from his naval duties in 1844 and dedicated his time to The Arctic Council. Both my father and Alexander were in Arctic expeditions, that’s why they were both respected members of the Council.

In the evenings, when we had our dinners, they loved to tell stories about their expeditions and battles, when my father was Captain of ships Minotaur and Timor and my brother was Commander of ships Ares and Chimera. I have always listened to such stories with excitement.

My father’s younger brother – my uncle Sir Charles Walton was Vice Admiral and my late grandfather was sea lord Admiral Lord William Walton.

Alexander continued the dynasty of our family, who not only became Commander at young age – he was also one of youngest members of The Arctic Council, even though his heart belonged to battles. He was sure that during them the real naval officer was born. I was very proud of him, when he returned back home safely after The First Opium War, before the reception in the Admiralty.  

When we hugged each other tightly the day he entered his home after the war, tears of joy came from my eyes. Of course, my brother used to drive me mad sometimes, and we had fights when we were children, but the connection between each other was unbreakable and we always deeply cared for one another.

I remembered very little about my mother Lady Catherine: she died of pneumonia when I was little girl. Father was in Arctic expedition at time when it happened, me and Alexander were with our grandmother then. Never saw my brother crying, and he didn’t cry when mother died, but he didn’t talk with anyone for a couple of days after the funeral.

But during my childhood and adolescence I didn't feel abandoned or lonely: I found company by Alexander, until he entered the Royal Navy at the age of twelve. We wrote each other whenever we could, and when he was coming home from his sea trips – Alexander passionately talked about his adventures, what kind of mates he met on board the ship – some of them became his best friends; and in a very serious manner he asked me about my days.

My father knew Sir John Franklin, and from my adolescence I was in a company of his niece Sophia Cracroft. She was a little older than me, but it didn’t prevent the development of our close friendship. With Sophia I had endless talks about all the girls’ things and interests, walk in parks, had tea parties and attended reading club every Sunday afternoon.

I found my comfort in reading books: novels kept me intrigued when poems fascinated me: they brought me to unusual places where I've never been and made me feel variety of strong emotions which overwhelmed me. Especially books and poems about passionate and pure love which I’ve never experienced in my life, I never knew what it was.

But then the evening reception happened.

______________________________________________________________

“Hurry up, Alex, the carriage must leave in ten minutes!”, Alexander called me, when I was putting the finishing touches on my look: sprayed perfume and put on my mother’s necklace.

“Be downstairs in few moments, Commander Walton!”, I replied loudly and glanced at my face in the mirror, checking the styling of my long dark brown hair, which was gathered into a bun with a pearl hairpin.

The feeling of anticipation filled me inside just how it always happened before events like going to the ballet or balls with officers at Admiralty. As if something magical which was going to happen, the excitement of meeting brother's friends and dancing almost all night long, arriving back home early in the morning.

My father and Alexander who was putting on his hat and gloves were in the entrance hall when the carriage was waiting for us outside. Doors opened and I felt the frozen air filling in my lungs.

______________________________________________________________

“Henry and Graham must be there tonight, both of them came from their sails couple of days ago”, my brother said to me, as he took out his watch from the inside pocket of his jacket to check the time.

Commander Graham Gore and Lieutenant Henry Le Vesconte were my brother’s close friends since his first years in the Royal Navy. It was always good to see them and have small chat with both of them as they were good companions. I found them very amusing and whenever they paid Alexander a visit for their evening gatherings in our house, or they attended balls: they always cheered me up. Alexander, Graham and Henry were the main attention in all the parties I visited: all ladies were attracted to them and other young officers wanted to be their mates. They were leading the scene in balls, and at the same time they were the bright future of the Royal Navy.

Alexander knew that I considered both Gore and Le Vesconte as nice friends and good officers and never as my potential partners, but at the same time he knew that Graham Gore was very interested in me. He told me about it in a couple of days before the ball. But he didn't stop his tryings in finding me a good husband.

I gave my brother a look and returned my gaze at the fogged glass in the carriage. The streets were busy, as they usually were, and the carriage was moving too slow, trying to cut through narrow but short pathways leading to the Admiralty.

“You know perfectly well that I’m interested in their humour and their talks rather than in them”, I said with a quiet voice.

I didn’t want my father to begin his lecture about how it was important for me to find good decent man for me, preferably someone from The Royal Navy, and marry him because I was turning twenty-eight in the summer of 1844 and at that age all of ladies who I used to know were already married and had children.

Thankfully, this time father didn’t want to interfere in our dialogue, but he glanced at both of us and smirked.

“Oh, I know this indeed, Alex”, my brother put his watches back inside the pocket and look at me, “But it’s going to be a very long day today and there will be other officers who came from war with me and I got to know some of them very well and I believe that you’ll find their company very curious and amusing as well…”

“I’ll find a curious and amusing company of Sophia, but thank you very much for thinking about me and my feelings”, I snapped and checked my face in the compact mirror which I had in my purse.

“I’m serious, Alexandra”, my brother replied and I looked directly into his eyes, “One of them has become a very close friend of mine during the war and I actually think you might be interested in each other.”

“Good Lord, Alexander, know I want to meet this lad as well, if you believe that he’s a good man for our Alexandra”, my father chuckled, and I glanced at him.

“He is a very good man, father. And a very good commander as well”, my brother said and then looked back at me and took my hand in his, “You should consider my words, Alex”

Surprisingly for myself, this time I didn’t want to shove my hand off and roll my eyes. This time I didn’t want to respond to my brother with sarcasm. Alexander was talking seriously. He always did when it was the family matter.

“The Admiralty, my Lord”, the carriage stopped and we heard the voice of our coachman.

“Just in time”, my father looked at his watches he took from his pocket when the door of the carriage opened and small snowflakes filled the carriage.

I took a deep breath and came out of the carriage, taking my brother’s arm. My heart started to beat faster with every step that I made when was going up the stairs of the Admiralty when the long and cheerful day which would transform into winter’s evening and night full of dances has just begun.