#i've had these sitting for a bit and just never posted em

[skelenova]

idk they're kinda cute 2gether...

timothy belongs to @pinetreevillain

[madamechrissy]

Your series is on toppp, i was always waiting for your new post especially that gojo series lmao. Anyways, can we get a gojo x innocent!reader?? Make them likee childhood friend and gojo takes her virginity lolll.

Thank you sm love, I hope you enjoy it <3 You know I've never given Gojo a virgin in anything, it's his first time for me lmaooo! 🩷🩷🩷

Pairing: Satoru Gojo x virgin reader

Contents/warnings: cute fluff, friends to lovers, first time/loss of virginity, oral sex (M and F receiving), explicit sex, pet names, not much plot lol, just smut fr

Word Count:: 3.7k

🩷 First Time 🩷

You are sitting next to Satoru on his couch as you all watch one of his silly movies. He has laid out a million snacks and treats for the night, including bowls full of Halloween candy from yesterday. Yes, Satoru was twenty two and yes, he still went trick or treating, you’d been dragged along with him all night last night, running from house to house.

Your feet still hurt, you’re wincing and rubbing them, and Satoru looks over at you with his stupidly pretty eyes, eyes you should be used to after being friends for ten years, but sometimes they… well they did things. Satoru seems to be clueless at his effects on you, how when he tickles you, you gasp, how when he pulls you against him, you sigh and inhale his scent.

You’re pretty bad at hiding it.

Suguru and Shoko make fun of you endlessly, but you are just too afraid to ruin your friendship. But then, you’ve also non stop turned down men, left and right, pining away for him. It certainly was not the best way to go about things, but you’re holding out for him to be your first. Even though it’s foolish to think it will happen, you can’t help but wait for him.

Satoru was not dating anyone, he really had not dated much since high school, he would have a fling here and there, but mostly he spent time working and then with his friends. With you.

“Feet hurting? Bring ‘em to Daddy.” He teases with a smirk, and you giggle, rolling your eyes.

“Oh gosh, Satoru. You really gonna rub ‘em?”

“Sure am, it’s my fault they hurt. C’mere.” You lean back on the couch and prop your feet up on his lap, as his long fingers press into the soles of your feet, you moan a bit, and he pauses, looking at you.

“Sorry.” You say, flustered and overheated, and Satoru looks back at the movie, his tall, lithe body leaning back against the cushions.

“No need to say sorry, it feels good hmm?” He teases, as you try to focus on the movie, but he’s pressing his fingers deeper, and massaging your feet so good your eyes flutter shut.

“Very good, oof thank you.” You say softly, going to pull them back a bit, but Satoru now has raised his massage to your ankles. You gasp. “That tickles!”

“Does it? You’re so ticklish.” He’s running little circles on your ankles then, and your thighs shift as his hands slip even higher, to your calves.

“That feels… really good, mmm.” You whisper, wishing it meant less to you, wishing you did not treasure and drink in every bit of your best friend. His shiny white hair, his perfect straight nose, model cheekbones and pouty lips. Satoru Gojo was the prettiest man you’ve ever seen, but it’s more than that.

His little smirk and how his snowy lashes lower over his eyes, his laugh when he’s being silly, how his body looks in that black skin tight gym shirt, his biceps curling as he’s gently brushing your legs. You bite your lower lip then, as he’s still watching the movie, his touches lighter, little caresses down your legs.

“You have nice legs.” You sputter then, mouth wide, and he peeks at you, a little blush on his cheeks. “What you do.”

“Um… what? I do?” He looks down at your thighs now, and when his huge hands cover them, you can’t stop the little whimper, drawing his attention to you.

“You doing alright over there?” He asks then, raising a brow, and you cover your face now.

“I have to say something.” You shift your legs down, and Satoru pouts.

“I was having fun playing with them, meanie.”

“Satoru…” You lean forward on the couch, touching his shoulders gently. “I really have to tell you something.”

“Go on then, silly girl.” He taps your nose with a little smile. You take a deep breath, looking into his swirling blue eyes then.

“I want you to be my first.”

“What!?” He’s sputtering now, and jumps up, and then you jump up, turning away and covering your face.

“I’m so stupid, of course you wouldn’t. You’re Satoru Gojo, you can have anyone. And you’re experienced. And-”

“Hey, hey.” Satoru’s hands are on your shoulders behind you now, and you tense a bit at the touch, heart racing. “You’re prettier than anyone I’ve been with, it’s not anything like that.”

“Shit, really? You think I’m pretty?” You whisper, looking back at him, and he exhales, hands squeezing a bit, nodding.

“Of course you are, silly. I tell you that you look cute all the time, do I not?”

“Cute. Not pretty.”

“Well, you’re cute and pretty. And… you’re a virgin?” He turns you to him then, and you nod shyly, tucking your hair behind your ears. “Why me the first time, why not a boyfriend?”

You sigh then, fiddling with your hands in front of yourself. “You’re who I want it with. We can stay friends, it doesn’t have to like ruin it, you don’t have to date me.”

He blinks his white lashes then, tilting his head. “Why wouldn’t I wanna date you?”

“Because we’re friends!”

“And I like you, a lot. I always have. I thought… Well, I thought you didn’t like me like that.”

“What!?” It’s your turn now, and he smirks a bit.

“Well, I’m half naked in front of you constantly, and I barely see you check me out.”

“I do! But I look away when you look at me. You don’t check me out!”

“Oh, I do.” His eyes dart down your body now, and it’s as if he’s touching you, as he looms over you, so tall, so sexy. “I look away when you look at me. Now, you really want a first time, you have to be my girlfriend, I’m no hussy.” He states, putting his hand to his chest, and you laugh then.

“I can absolutely do that. How do we seal this boyfriend/girlfriend status then? A selfie? A pinky swear?” You step closer, trailing a hand up his chest now.

“Mmm, all of the above. But first, this.” Satoru leans down now, kissing you for the first time, his soft, plump lips pressing on yours, and you gasp at it, before kissing him back, putting pressure on his lips, wrapping your arms around his neck, on your tip toes. Satoru moans softly, pulling back, his hands on your waist, then his eyes lock onto yours.

“Toru… that’s perfect.” You murmur softly, as you still feel the tingles of your lips, then you realize you have a tear sliding down your cheek. Satoru swipes it away gently, tilting up your chin and bending down, lips against your ear.

“I wanna have you cumming so hard you scream my name, pretty tears falling out of those pretty eyes.” Your body reacts viscerally, your nipples pressed against the little tank top you’re wearing, as he nips your ear then, sending shivers down your spine at the sensation.

“Please.” Satoru’s kissing down your neck now, hands on your hips, feeling your every curve, your hands enwrap in his silky hair, gasping when he picks you up in his arms like it’s nothing.

“Anything you want, pretty girl.” You melt at his words, as he carries you to his bedroom, laying you down and sliding up your tank then, revealing your breasts, he exhales as he sees them, nostrils flaring. “Holy… they’re so fucking pretty.”

“You like them?” You ask shyly, and he nods eagerly.

“Take it off, please, be a good girl for me.” You’re dripping wet already, as you lean up and pull the top over your head, your tits bouncing gently. He’s gripping them in his big hands then, squishing them and running his thumbs over your nipples, your back arches. “Tell me what you like, don’t hold back, I want to learn all of you.”

“That feels good, it feels so good.” You say softly, and he then kisses down to each peak, sucking them into his hot mouth. “S’good, mmm!”

He hums a bit, his big hand sliding down your tummy, making it tremble, as he finds your shorts, pulling them down. “So, do you masturbate Miss Virgin?”

“Jerk, ugh. Of course I do, ah!” He’s kissing and nipping on your rib cage now, looking at you with his eyes dilated, pupils so big there’s just a ring of that brilliant blue now.

“Show me what you do, then I’ll know where you like to be touched most.” He’s taking your hand now, grinning with those white teeth. “Aw, ya blushing?”

“Well, y-yes. Um… I don’t finger myself, I just rub my clit.”

“Of course, those small little fingers, they can’t hit good.” He holds his fingers out, double your length, so long you clench around nothing imagining them, getting wetter when he presses your finger to your clit. “That’s it, pretty, show me.”

You rub your clit in circles, aching for him, as he stands up, taking off his shirt then, and you drink in his body hungrily, as he drinks in yours. “Fuck you’re gorgeous Satoru.”

“And you’re gorgeous, best friend. Girlfriend. Shnookums.”

“Shnookums!”

“Tossing cute names around.” He’s sliding his jeans off now, just in his dark blue boxers, then you see that outline, making you heat up even more with such strong desire. “Go ahead, keep going, you’re doing good.”

“Want you to touch me.” You whisper, as he sits back on the bed, the springs creaking under his weight, watching as your finger is playing between your lips, taking your hand gently and sucking on your finger then. “Oh!”

“Yummy. Need to taste you.” He says then, his voice husky, you are crying out when he rubs his fingers along your folds, down your slit, where wetness is pooling down to your entrance.

“Toru!” Your hips buck up when he runs circles on your clit, eyeing you carefully now.

“Have you had anything inside this pretty pussy at all?” He asks, sliding down to lay between your thighs now, his hands pressing into the plush of them as he spreads them wide. “So perfect.”

“No, I haven’t.” You admit, then gasp out when he slides one of his thick, long fingers inside you. “Ah… ah!”

“Fuck you’re so tight.” He pecks little kisses on your thighs, nipping as he studies you, pressing on a spot now that makes you see stars. “There it is.”

You’re falling apart as he pumps that long finger in, before stretching it to two, which is so hard to take, you can barely get to his first knuckles. “Toru, it’s too much… too much…”

“Aww you can take it, can’t you? Gotta stretch this tight little pussy for me, I’m a lot bigger than those fingers.” You can hear the squishing of your wetness as he kisses closer and closer, and you’re entangling your fingers in his hair, pressing against his scalp. “You’re so needy for me, aren’t you?”

You can’t speak then, when he kisses the hood of your clit, pulling the fingers out to part your folds gently. Your legs shake on either side of his head as he studies your pussy even more, moaning as he does. “Toru, um what are you doing?”

“Gonna eat you out, pretty girl. I can’t just have a treat like this and not eat it, don’t you know I have a sweet tooth?”

“Are you sure, I didn’t expect-”

“Oh this is my favorite. You’ll love it.” Satoru swipes his tongue up your slit then, and you’re moaning so loud it’s embarrassing, and he exhales, tickling you so good, his cool breath blowing on your overheated cunt. “Yummy.”

“Toru, fuck…”

“What a bad mouth, young lady.” He glares, and you laugh, breathless. “And you’re laughing, ah-ah.” He smacks your pussy, shocking you, but you like it, as you’re gushing more arousal out of your little hole. “Freaky little virgin.”

“Toru!”

“Stop talking back missy.” He smacks it again, and grins at your reaction. “Let me enjoy my treat, hmm?” You just nod, and he dives down now, sliding his tongue in and out of you in the most delicious tongue fuck. You’re already pulsing around him as he drinks you up, exploring you with his tongue, lips, teeth.

Your back arches, as he’s fucking you with it over and over, his teeth hitting your clit when he swipes up, finally swirling your clit in circles with the tip of his stupidly talented tongue. You can’t stand how good it feels, the pressure in your tummy, then you realize you’re going to cum, and cum so hard, you feel everything on fire, every nerve ending lit up.

“Gonna cum, gonna cum!” You pant out the words, and Satoru’s moaning against you, leaning up, half his face covered with you.

“Cum all over my face, let me drink you pretty.” He’s not goofy, silly Satoru, he’s some damn sex demon now, as he flicks his tongue once more, and you’re shattering for him, pulling him against you as you cum.

Satoru rides it out with you, continuing to flick his tongue so fast, sipping up the wetness out of your soppy cunt. You feel so good you’re blinded, eyes blinking rapidly to try to focus, to try to cling to this earth. He’s more serious now as he exhales, fingering you again, sliding two in with ease at how wet you are, hovering over you.

“Such a good girl, came that much for me? Wanna taste it?” He asks, and you nod nervously, then he’s kissing you, letting you taste your sweet arousal. Your hands slide down his hard abdomen, over the ripples of muscles and sinew, until you find his boxers, tugging. “Oh fuck, wanna touch me?”

“Yes, please.”

“I wasn’t sure your first time.” His care melts you, melts any worries you have away, but when he takes off his boxers and you see him, you panic.

“Oh that will never fit!” You watch him chuckle then, his soft hair falling over a brow as you touch it, your tiny hand not covering hardly any of it.

“It will fit, I promise.”

“Will it hurt?” You ask, brows together, stroking him, watching his eyes flutter shut, biting his lip.

“I haven’t been with a virgin. Um, I hear it hurts a bit, but you’re so wet and warmed up, I hope it won’t for long. I’ll go easy on you, the first time.”

“The first time!?”

“Then we’ll get freaky.” You giggle again, stroking him up and down.

“Can I suck you too?”

“You want to?” You nod and he exhales, getting on his knees then, gently positioning you on all fours. “Fuck it’s like my four pm nap.”

“Huh?”

“I nap after work, and you are always in some position. Some new one. Legs spread, ass in the air.” He wraps your hair up, pulling it gently into a ponytail, his pretty cock so thick and intimidating, twitching as you flick your tongue on the pink tip. “Oh fuck, that feels good.”

“What do you like?” You lap at the pearly liquid weeping from his tip, tonguing it and tasting it, sweet and a little salty, before sucking a couple inches in your mouth, earning his little whimper, so sexy it makes you impossibly wetter.

“Anything you wanna do, fuck. At your mercy here, the tip is the most sensitive. Can you take more?” Satoru’s voice is soft as he presses in further, and you’re moaning around him, nodding. “Good girl.”

“Mmm.” You’re sucking more of him then, as you look up, seeing his perfect form, that happy trail of white hair under that flat belly button, his hard body tensing as you stroke him where your mouth can’t reach.

“Okay, too much, I want to last for you. Mmm.” He pulls you off gently now, pushing you back to lay down, settling between your thighs, fingering you with his two fingers again. “Are you sure about this? We can wait.”

“I want this, I really do. I have for so- ah- long. Toru! Close!” He’s sliding his fingers out then, leaving you whining, as he now presses his thick tip in your entrance, and your eyes lock as you gasp.

“Want to feel you cumming around me, love.” Love that little pet name is destroying you. “Relax, please, don’t tense, just trust me. I got you.”

“I trust you, Satoru.” He exhales then, head resting on yours, then presses in, and you whine out at the pain of the first stretch, and he pauses, groaning.

“Oh fuck you’re so tight. Are you okay, pretty?” You nod a bit, as he eases back, and you’re gripping his back so tightly your nails are leaving crescent marks. “Oh fuck…”

Satoru moans as he presses further in, and you’re full, too full, it’s like nothing you’ve known. He sinks in so deep you feel him in your stomach, feel him everywhere, burning the skin as it stretches to accommodate. Satoru studies you carefully, his brow scrunched up, cupping your face with one hand.

“Baby, you all right? Gotta tell me.”

“I’m so full. It’s just… a lot.” He nods, kissing you again, rocking his hips, and then his tip drags on that spot he’d just fingered, and it feels so good, you’re clinging to him. “There, there!”

“Here?” He does it again, and your eyes roll back, feeling him roll those hips, you’re wetter and wetter with every shallow thrust, and he’s whimpering again, his cheeks flushed pink, his lips parted. “Cum on me, please?”

You need no further urging, you’re soaking Satoru’s cock as you cum, and his lips drink your moans, his hands now holding your thighs, sliding them up further, starting to fuck into you now. You’re falling apart under him, moans ridiculously loud, pleasure is coursing through your body while he fucks you into another orgasm.

“Toru, Toru! Mmm!” Satoru’s pretty eyes look into your own.

“Can I go harder, love?”

“Yes, please.”

He laughs just a bit. “You can take it, huh?”

“I can, fuck I can.” He fucks you harder then, pressing your thighs up, and you’re struggling to take more and more of him, as he’s so deep he’s hitting your cervix.

“Feel me here?” He takes your hand, pressing it on your tummy, and he has a wicked grin as he slides in slow, and you feel him there, making you squeak. “You’re so cute.”

“Cute, still, while mmm… fucking?”

“Cute anytime. Cutie.” He smacks little kisses on your cheeks, somehow he’s dirty and sexy one moment, then sweet and adorable the next. “Mwah!”

“Satoru!” You giggle when he leaves a loud kiss on your lips, but then he presses in so deep and grinds, and you lose all sense. Everything is fading, floating.

“Call me Toru when you cum.”

“Toru!” You cum all over his cock, arousal dripping down his length, down his balls that are smacking your ass, and he sucks in a breath when he feels your walls fluttering around him.

“Trying to milk me, she’s greedy already.” You have no clue what he means, all you know is it feels even better, as he’s thickening inside you. “Question.” He huffs out then, panting over you, his chiseled body dripping in sweat.

“G-go ahead.”

“On birth control or I gotta get plan B?” You nervously bury your face into his throat, and he’s laughing softly, stroking your hair as his strokes slow. “Baby gotta let me know, I’m not gonna pull out, wanna fill you up.”

“I’m on the pill. And t-take it on time.” He sighs, tilting your chin up then, smirking deviously, eyes bright fucking blue and insane.

“I’d cum in you anyway, you’d be cute pregnant.”

“What now!?” He’s slammed his lips on yours again, pressing your thighs up, and then he’s fucking harder, sounds of your skin smacking mixing with your wetness, as he fucks you so hard your tits are bouncing, the headboard is smacking. “Taking it easy, huh!?”

“This is easy, love. Oh fuck… gonna cum…” He moans then, his hands cupping your face, and you feel him throbbing inside you, thickening, you are filled with hot ropes of cum, coating your walls, and you cum just from that, earning his groan. “Oh you’re such a good girl.”

He’s gently pumping, gasping as he pumps even more cum, and your muscles are already pushing it out. He sighs then, smacking kisses on you over and over, every inch of your face, making you so blissful, as he’s fucked any thoughts out of your head, you feel like you’re floating, clinging to him, nails digging in.

“This better not be just once.” He says with a glare, and you grin, shaking your head and brushing his hair back.

“Absolutely not just once. Oh! Ouch.” You hiss a bit as he eases out, and you go to look down, but he tilts your chin up, shaking his head.

“Don’t look, you’re always scared of blood. Gonna faint.”

“It’s that much!?”

“No, but you’re sensitive about that. I’ll be right back.” Satoru hops up and you look at the ceiling, you hear a shower running, see the steam rolling into his room, and then he’s back and cleaning you up, before picking you up in his arms. “Let me take care of you, yeah?”

“Yeah, I would love that, Toru. Sounds so good.” He has you under the scalding hot water then, sudsing you up with bubbles everywhere, forming little puffy clouds on your breasts then rinsing them, laughing like he’s having a blast. You shake your head as you watch him.

“I used to jerk off when you’d take showers here.”

“You what now!?”

He just grins, pushing the shower head even lower. “Picturing you, did you ever… you know…”

“Satoru!”

“Did you!?” You look at his shower head nervously, then him, and he’s grinning even wider now. “Oh, you’re a bad girl.”

“Oh stop it, silly. Maybe once or twice. You have great water pressure. Ah, Toru!” Satoru is now on his knees in the shower, looking up at you and rushing that hot shower water against your clit. You gasp at it, as he wraps an arm around your hip to steady you.

“I’m gonna have so much fun with you.”

Gojo Drabbles/ one shots - Masterlist

[pokechbi]

Hi! i love your post so much🫶 i was wondering if you could make a head canon on how 141 and konig would comfort their plus size SO if they were feeling self-conscious?

only if you’re up to it!!

Keep writing..it’s so good:))

Hi Anon! TYSM for the ask <3 I love to hear that you enjoy my writing :') makes me feel all giddy hehe :)) This was such a good request, I actually would like to make it a bit longer! I've got so many ideas for this <3 LMK if you want me to add the rest of the team ;) I hope this one met your expectations :)

In Your Skin

TF141 & Konig comfort plus size (fem) reader

NSFW, MDNI !!! (yk i had to add some seggsy time, what can i say)

CW: Body image issues

Fem anatomy used

WC: 1.5K

As always, enjoy loves!

Simon Ghost Riley

Will start off gently comforting you, caressing your body and leaving kisses & hickies on every inch of you. He'll make you keep eye contact as he does this, squeezing and worshipping every single part of you. He'll also make you repeat after him, slurring out which parts of you he adores most and why.

"I love your plump little belly, wanna know why?" He'll say, sloppily kissing you up and down, landing on your underbelly, biting the sensitive flesh like it's his last meal. "Gotta have something to hold onto while I'm fuckin' 'ya, right love?"

"God, you know how I adore those thick fuckin' hips and ass of yours. How they jiggle against my cock while I pound that wet little cunt between your legs." He'll say, leaving bite marks all over your hips.

"My my, and look at those sweet, thick thighs. How can I not love 'em. How they wrap around my head as I lick your sweet pussy out. I'd die happily between those thighs."

And when he's finished making you repeat every single word, he'll fuck you so good that you forget your own name, as punishment for daring to insult what's his.

John Soap MacTavish

Soap is such a gentle lover. After all, he's just a big softie for you. When you talk bad about your weight, his heart can't help but break and send a jolt of pain through his core. He knew there wasn't much he can do besides show you just how goddamn beautiful you were.

"Oh, lass. That's not true. And if anyone has anything different to say, I'll disembowel them. How's that sound, love" His Scottish accent was enough to lift your spirits, taking you out of the funk that had been plaguing your mind about your body. He won't stop until you're smiling, even if he has to ruthlessly tickle you until you piss yourself.

He'll then carry you to the bed as if you weighed nothing, slowly undressing you and worshipping every inch of skin on your body. He'll make you keep your hands on him, slurring out things he adored about your curvy body. He could be rough when he wanted to, but when you were like this, he wanted nothing more than to handle you like a flower and nourish your spirits.

At times like this, he couldn't care less for pleasuring himself. Sure, your body made him want to empty his balls on every part of you, but he prioritized your pleasure when it came down to it. He knows you're too shy to ask, so he'll do any and everything he can think of that would make you feel good.

If you ever refuse his lovings, he'll keep pressing and do the things that make you weak in the knees until you accept. Your self consciousness never bypassed him, and he would never think to leave you alone when you were like this. He'll make you sit in front of him, naked, and force you to say everything you love about yourself and why. And God forbid you dare to refuse, he'll bend you over his knee and spank you until you do it.

"Good puppy. That wasn't so hard now, was it?"

Captain John Price

Price has a zero-tolerance policy for you saying anything remotely self-deprecative. When you start to talk about hating your body, he'll stop it right in it's tracks and put you in your place. He was usually a laid back kind of man, but you were his. And God help anyone who disrespected what belonged to him.

Price would do whatever he could to make you feel confident again, and that included submitting to you completely. He'd order you the sexiest lingerie he could find, something dark, powerful. He wanted you to feel like the goddess you were, even if it meant letting you do what you pleased to him while he sat back and enjoyed it.

He'll set aside a night off from his duties to make his way to you, letting you tie him up while you did whatever it is that made you happy. He let you dominate him, edge him, wrapping himself around your finger as you embraced your femininity.

And once you were yourself again, completely confident in your body once more, he'll put you back in your place as his woman. He'll eat your pussy for nearly an hour, overstimulating you to the point of tears. He'll bend you over and fuck you afterwards, not giving you a chance to breathe as he pounds into your very core. And once he was done fucking you, he'll make you get on your knees and fuck your face until you were amounted to nothing but a slobbering, crying, cum drunk overstimulated mess under him.

And during your aftercare, he'll reassure you that you're his, and he'll never get it up for anyone else but you. He'll caress you, make you embrace every part of yourself. He'll touch you gently, making sure you knew that you were his very own goddess.

Kyle Gaz Garrick

The first time he had ever learned about your self-image issues, his jaw hung open in shock. This man had seen some things on the battlefield, but hearing you speak such untrue things about yourself took the cake. He spent some time thinking about how to approach the situation, not knowing how to handle you at such a fragile time.

So he did the only thing he knew would never fail him. He took you by the jaw, staring into your eyes as you cried out against his face.

"Kyle! You're hurting me!" You whine, the lie rolling off your tongue. You liked it, and he knew you did. You liked when he roughed you up, sending a familiar wetness to accumulate between your thighs. He'll push you around, your back up against the wall as he slipped his hand under your clothes. He breathed heavily as he lifted you up, grabbing at your body and molding your flesh to his hand.

"You hate your body so much you'll cry, huh? Apologize, or I'll fuck you so deep and so hard, you'll have something to cry about." He demanded. You nodded your head, slurring out apologies, your voice shaky with everything ranging from fear to arousal.

Once he felt that you were regretful about your words to yourself, he'll take a more gentler approach, whispering the things he loved about you and why. He could do this for hours, so he does. He'll lull you into a deep relaxation as he runs his hands all over your body, playfully pinching you and tickling you.

He'll start from the hairs on your head, and ending at the color of your cute, painted toes, leaving gentle kisses in his wake. You found yourself becoming more confident in yourself, slowly learning to love every part of you as much as he did.

Konig

There was no getting past Konig when you felt that familiar bubbling of body image issues in your head. You hinted at it slightly, trying to fish compliments from him. He instantly knew what you were doing, since he wasn't far behind you. He'd dealt with hating himself before, specifically his damning size. So he knew exactly what you meant when you were hinting at these things.

He'd waste no time in throwing you over his shoulder, spanking your ass as he carried you to whatever flat surface he could bend you over. You could say plenty things about yourself, but nothing struck a nerve in him more than when you spoke badly about your body, or weight. He knew what it was like to hate himself, to avoid mirrors and eye contact in hopes he could turn himself invisible to the world.

"I'm not going to sit back and listen to this, liebe" He says frustrated, running his hands along your body, kneeling in front of you and kissing your skin.

He'll do anything in his power to make you feel good again. And that included staying on his knees in front of you, begging you to love yourself again. When he did this, you couldn't help but tear up at the sight. The biggest man you'd ever seen, on his knees on the brink of tears because you called yourself bad names.

You'd caress his head in your arms, promising him to love yourself, to let go of those toxic thoughts that kept you from being your best self. And after he'd determine your words truthful and genuine, he'd stay on his knees, throwing your leg over his shoulder. He'll take his frustration out on your cunt, spitting and slapping and sucking all he can, making you cum and squirt and cry so many times, you forget why you were crying in the first place.

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Bookmark my Heart

Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw x Reader

Description: You're not the audiobook type. You much prefer reading over listening to books. It would just be your luck that an audiobook got you into this predicament. His eyes are piercing as you fumble with your phone to mute the volume, his voice blaring from the device.

Warnings: None! (Though I do believe Flirty!Rooster is a warning I should call out.)

Themes: Meet-Cute, Flirting, Coffee, Books, Smut Books

Word Count: 3456

A/N: So, if you all aren't aware, today is the lovely @roosterforme's birthday! I couldn't think of a better way to celebrate Em and all of the amazing things she does more than to write some Rooster for her. Happy Birthday! I hope your day is as wonderful as you are! So without further ado, I'm pleased to present you all with Bookmark my Heart, a fic where Bradley Bradshaw is an audiobook narrator and the reader, nicknamed Paper, runs right into him! All my thanks to @horseshoegirl and @desert-fern for beta-reading this fic and catching all of the places where I've missed commas as well as updating my phrasing!

My Masterlist

AO3: Cross-posted Here!

Wattpad: Cross-posted Here!

You’re not the audiobook type. Something about having someone read the pages, providing inflections and changes of tone to the otherwise inflectionless words tends to kill your imagination. So you much prefer reading over listening to the books you’re in the mood to peruse. It would just be your luck that an audiobook got you into this predicament. His eyes are piercing as you fumble with your phone to mute the volume, his voice blaring from the device. But maybe you should back up a little bit.

It all started, like it usually did for you, with a book. Unlike normally though, you aren’t talking about Keats, Byron, Shelley, or Austen. This time, the book that was your downfall was something you’d usually classify as chick-lit. Not that chick-lit is a bad thing. There are quite a few romance novels which are beautifully written and that you enjoy reading and re-reading. It’s just not normal that a romance novel, something smutty and provocative, would end up being talked about on podcasts and the news. That’s not considering how all of your female colleagues seem to be talking about the very same book. But that’s the other interesting thing. They’re not even discussing the book’s contents. More like they’re discussing the narrator’s voice in the audiobook edition - how deep and smooth and raspy it is.

It hadn’t even been a full day before the curiosity got the better of you and you purchased the book from Kindle Unlimited. It took you the better part of two weeks before you actually screwed up the courage to listen to it though. Maybe you shouldn’t have picked a Saturday morning when you were running errands to listen to the book. In your defense, there was no better time to listen to the book other than a day when you’d be spending quite a long time in the car with nothing else to do. You’d definitely miscalculated. Dear lord, this man’s voice?! It’s deep and raspy, something smooth and dark in how he voices the syllables. It’s the kind of voice you’ve once heard referred to as panty-wetting - an epithet you’ve never understood until now.

The book has you squirming as you walk through the grocery store. There’s sweat dripping down your spine as he talks about something involving fighter jets and the men (and women - you always feel like you have to correct) who fly them. You’d never have thought that flaps and ailerons could ever be that alluring. You have to take a minute as you leave the grocery store, sitting in your car in silence practically heaving just at the way the word “Doll” had dripped off of his lips. Maybe you can buy into the hype a little bit. It’s not often that you find a romance book in the male perspective after all. As far as finding the pilots sexy goes, though, what can you say? You’ve seen Top Gun - both movies - those boys in their dress whites are awfully sexy.

You send a little prayer of thanks to Rooster Bradshaw, whoever he is, for narrating this book. Just his voice has already made your boring Saturday running errands a thousand times better. You don't even mind that you're melting in the San Diego heat without the air conditioning on as you collect yourself. At least there is only one thing you have left to do today. As a reward for finishing up your errands, including odious activities like going to the bank and post office and grocery shopping, you'd vowed to treat yourself with a romp through your favorite bookstore.

Like you mentioned earlier, it all started with a book. What can you say? You're nothing if not predictable. The Breezy Bean is your favorite coffee shop and bookstore. It's a small shop nestled right in the midst of cobblestone streets and overshadowed by apartment buildings on either side. It's always a zoo trying to get parking, but you can't regret the competition for parking when the books are as good as they are and the coffee is even better.

Lara's not at the counter, but her business partner and best friend, Emily is, and you wave at her absentmindedly as you tangle the cord of your headphones around your index finger. The entire shop smells like coffee beans, paper and ink. You could spend forever here, and you're sure you have, at the very least, spent the entire day in the shop before. The shelves tower over your head, creaking under the weight of everything they hold. You're not a woman on a mission today, content to just meander until a cover catches your fancy. The eyes eat first, after all, isn't that what they say? If only you knew how true that statement would be.

The whole time you're listening to the book, tasting the words on your tongue seconds after Rooster says them, teasing the syllables out like you're trying to snatch them from his lips. Is it any wonder that after about four hours of listening to his voice, you're starting to imagine what the main character of the book looks like based on how Rooster sounds? You're only human, after all. It's quiet and dim in the back of the store, the shelves lit only by the small lights shining from the wall sconces. This is your favorite section of the store. There's a squashy green armchair here with a small table, and this is where you usually sit and wile away the hours.

It's rare that anyone ever ventures into this corner of the store. So it's a surprise when you see a man standing right in front of your favorite chair. He's tall and ridiculously handsome, wearing an eye-wateringly bright Hawaiian shirt and slim-fitting jeans. Like everyone in California, he's got Ray-Bans flung into the neckline of his tank top. The truly unique part of his look is the mustache he's carefully cultivated on his upper lip. He’s holding a book in long-fingered hands, lips pursed as he scans the pages, leaning gently against one of the shelves.

You try your best to squeeze past him in the narrow aisle, wondering if Em and Lara have squeezed more shelves back here or if you've just gained weight when it happens — your headphone cord snags on the buttons on his open shirt. You try to untangle it, unsuccessfully, but then your phone falls out of your pocket and rips your headphones right out of the jack.

You were just getting to a good part, something filled with innuendo but not quite at the sex. That's your only silver lining. Because when your phone nosedives to the, thankfully, carpeted floor sans your headphones, the audio keeps playing way too loudly for the hushed environment. To add insult to injury, your phone is closer to him than it is to you, and well, you've embarrassed yourself enough. The last thing you need is to get eye-level with a stranger's dick while your phone is narrating smut in a bookstore.

“Good book?” There's a smile on his face, and you nod timidly as he hands you back your phone. You pause the app and turn the volume all the way down before his words, or well, you should say, the sound of his voice sinks in.

If you weren’t mortified before, you're even more so now. Obviously, your brain does not compute, so your brain-to-mouth filter isn't working as you blurt out, “You're Rooster Bradshaw.”

It doesn’t surprise you at all when he starts laughing - a full body, belly laugh which fills the stacks with the mellifluous sound. If you had any doubts before that you'd run into the Rooster Bradshaw at your favorite coffee shop before (which you didn’t - see your intimate knowledge of his voice from earlier), you wouldn’t have any now. His character had actually laughed not fifteen minutes ago in the book. Well, now what are you supposed to do? You feel hot, embarrassment crawling its way up your throat as you shift your weight back and forth. Rooster's smiling at you as he stands back, lounging against the shelf like he's waiting for you to get your shit together. You'd hate to break it to him, but you don't think that's possible.

“I'm sorry.” You try your best to hide your face because he does not need to see what your facial expressions are doing.

“What do you have to be sorry for?” You shrug a shoulder as you busy yourself by turning around and trying to force yourself to read the titles. “It's not every day I run into pretty girls in my favorite bookstore, listening to me narrate a book about US Naval Aviators.”

Flirting shouldn’t be the thing which puts you at ease in this situation. There really must be something wrong with you. You’ve never done anything like this before. What happened to the girl who would have run away the minute the phone fell? She might not be facing down the sexiest man she’s ever seen, but at least that version of her isn’t at risk of heart palpitations.

“I hate to break it to you, Rooster, but a lot of pretty women are listening to you right now. This book has made its way onto podcasts and PBS. The author herself has been interviewed gushing about your professionalism and how you say the word “aileron.” Despite your mortification, you find yourself mirroring his relaxed position against the shelves. “Though I do have to correct a part of your statement there. What about yoga pants, glasses, and a messy bun makes me pretty? Because I’d call myself a mess.”

“Well, I wouldn’t go so far as to say you’re a mess, pretty girl.” Rooster grins as he tugs the shoulder of your cami up from where it is sliding down your arm. “Don’t you know exactly how devastating you look in those yoga pants?”

You’re left dumbstruck, reeling as he leans even closer to you. All of a sudden, you’re inundated with the scent of his cologne as he crowds into your space, and you’re forced to tip your head up to keep eye contact. Of course, the motion makes your glasses tip on your face, and you can’t lift a hand up to resettle them on your face without brushing up against every inch of the man, nearly squishing you into the shelf. There’s a scant few centimeters between you as you try to string words together.

“What makes you think I don’t know how good these pants make my ass look?” You smirk just a little, screwing up all of your courage to peer up at him. “But really, this outfit is comfortable.”

“Comfortable is not how you’re making me feel, honey.” There’s a heat in his gaze as his voice rasps out the words. “But maybe we can both get a little more comfortable and have a cup of coffee together?” 

Only two people will ever know if your hand strays right over the seam at the front of his jeans as you walk away. “I’d love to, but maybe you need to take a few minutes in seclusion, Mr. Chicken.”

You feel giddy as you walk away because things like this don’t just happen to girls like you. You don’t flirt with men you've just met. And you definitely do not brush over the dicks of men you've just met! The counter is nearly empty as you walk up, and you know Em has clocked onto the fact that your hands are surprisingly empty of books.

“Hiya, Paper!” You roll your eyes only a little. Buy a stack of paperbacks once a week from a bookstore for months, and this is exactly what you’ll be nicknamed. “No books today?”

“Hey, Em. Can I get a latte, please? And whatever the gentleman in the Hawaiian shirt orders is on me.” You grin at the sight of her eyebrows ticking up until they’re nearly in her hair.

“What has our sweet little Paper been doing today, huh?” You shrug just a little, grinning as she hands you your drink. “I’ve been reading, Em!”

“Of course you have!” You’re laughing as you make your way to a table for two in the corner.

You’re smiling outright when Rooster swaggers out of the shelves a few minutes later, and Em clocks the Hawaiian shirt on his broad frame. She’s half drooling when he orders an Americano. As she turns to make his drink, you get the messages in short order.

What the fuck, Paper!

This is the man you’re buying a coffee for?

Damn, girl! I’m going to need all of the details. STAT!

You put the device away only when the chair opposite yours slides out, and Rooster settles in. You'd promised a full detailing of the encounter to Em, and you wouldn't be surprised if Lara interrogates you the next time you see her as well.

“So, obviously, you come here often, then.” He’s smirking as he sips on his coffee.

“Yup!” You’re just as chipper as you blow over the surface of your own mug.

“You come here often enough that one of the owners just threatened me with the loss of my…” He pauses like he’s not sure if he should laugh or cry as he says the words, “...crown jewels…” and grimaces before continuing, “...if I hurt you.”

“She also called you Paper. Why’s that, Honey?”  

You lean forward, feeling just a little more confident as he mirrors your position. “Tit for tat, Bradshaw, if that even is your last name. You tell me something about yourself, I tell you something about myself.”

“Deal?” You stretch your hand out and gasp when he takes it and sets it down to the side of the mugs.

“Deal.”

“I’ll start.” Your faces are inches apart from each other. He's whispering, and you have to lean forward even further so you don't miss a single word. “My name’s Bradley Bradshaw. I didn’t want to use my real name while narrating those books.”

“And Rooster was what you decided on?” His chuckle and yours rise into the air in perfect harmony.

“It was a nickname I got in college. I was always the only guy in the dorm up before 9 A.M.”

You take turns sharing your life stories and quite a few secrets until your coffees are long gone. You find yourself telling him all about how you got your nickname and how you’ve been feeling stuck for the longest time. With Bradley, it doesn’t feel like another boring first date. If it weren’t for the faint hiss of the espresso machine and the clank of mugs and cutlery you wouldn't think there was another person in the room but the two of you. There are butterflies in your stomach, and your entire body shudders when he hooks his ankle around yours and tugs you closer. That point of contact has your blood turning into molten lava in your veins as his hand trails gentle patterns across your upturned palm.

“Hey, Paper?” It takes an inhuman effort to drag your eyes away from the magic Bradley Bradshaw is committing just with your hands in his own.

“Hey, Em.” As you say her name, you realize how dark it is. “The store’s closing, isn’t it?”

“Yup. It actually closed an hour ago. You looked so cute together that I called Lara, and we made an executive decision to let the two of you keep talking for just a bit longer.”

Your face feels extra hot because Em’s looking at you like she’s liable to start laughing at any moment. You don’t want to know what your hair looks like now, not after hours of running your fingers through it. It’s probably even more of a mess than it was when you literally ran into Bradley hours ago. A great first impression, right?

“Let me settle up then, Em.” If your voice is hushed and a little more subdued, it’s because reality and panic are settling in.

“No, sweetheart.” Bradley’s voice is even firmer as he stands up and places a hand on your arm. “Today is on me, I insist.”

You know exactly when Em puts it together, because her eyes widen to a comical degree. She was the biggest reason why you bought the book in the first place. “You’re Rooster Bradshaw!”

For the second time today, you find yourself laughing along with Bradley, though the sounds of his laughter doesn’t put you at ease in quite the same way as it did earlier. Em’s laughing too, and she looks gorgeous in the golden light. At least she’s put together in a way you’re so obviously not. Maybe you should have taken your mother’s well-meant advice when you were younger - dress to impress, for you never know who you’re going to meet. But you haven’t taken that advice, choosing to dress simply and comfortably. It works when you can’t wear any makeup when you work in a laboratory and when all of your nice clothes would be at risk of chemical spills at worst and covered by a lab coat at best. So you walk through life in a swirl of well-worn jeans, tee-shirts, yoga pants, tank tops, camisoles, sneakers and sandals. There are a few dressier items in your closet, but they’re so far in the back that you haven’t worn them in probably a year and a half. Em’s cute outfit and wavy, non-greasy hair probably feel like a breath of fresh air to him. The same goes for the timber of her voice and how she sounds so elegant. 

If you didn't know any better (because you know Em, you do), you'd think that the words the two of them are sharing by the counter now are flirtier than settling up a bill. It doesn’t help the green, envious monster sitting on your shoulder, though. Nor does it help when you run to the restroom and take a look at yourself in the mirror. You look worse than you thought you did. Your face is wan and pale, the bags under your eyes have bags, and your hair is so greasy that it lays limp when you release it from your bun. Your lips are chapped, and fuck, how did you manage to drip coffee onto yourself?! You only drank one cup! What's left to show you that you've made a huge fool of yourself?

Your hands shake as you splash water on your face and put your hair back in its sad bun again. Just a little longer and you'll be home, wallowing in peace at yet another failed potential relationship. At least the water has brought a blush to your cheeks and cleaned the worst of the smudges off your glasses. Bradley probably has Em's phone number by now, right? It's probably best not to get your hopes up too high, else you find yourself falling from a prodigious height.

Instead, you're pleasantly surprised to see him still in the shop.

“Hey!” His face lights up when he sees you, and you're sure your earlier pep-talk about managing your expectations hasn’t worked at all. This is going to hurt. “So, I know talking to a stranger for hours at a coffee shop probably isn't the best first date. So would you maybe want to go on a real one sometime soon?”

“Y-you're serious?” He smiles and hands you his phone, unlocked.

“Put your number in there, Paper.” Your mind's not working at all as you type the ten digits in. 

“Why me?” 

His smile is warm and fond as he takes the phone back, types something and hits send. Your notification tone goes off soon after. 

“It's not every day I run into a pretty girl listening to me reading a romance novel who doesn't fawn all over me once they realize who I am. It's been nice talking to you. I feel like you're the first person in a long time to see Bradley, not Rooster.”

He holds the door open for you, a hand finding its way to the small of your back as he walks you out to your car. He even opens the door for you, a chivalrous action which has your heart flip-flopping in your chest. “Baby doll?”

“Yeah?” He takes advantage of the height difference between you to tip your face up as he feathers a kiss across the apple of your cheek.

“It helps that your ass looks damn good in those yoga pants!” 

You're laughing despite yourself as you drive away. Maybe audiobooks aren't as bad as you think? Or, well, at least their narrators aren't.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN HERE, ON WATTPAD, OR ON AO3 BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN HERE, ON WATTPAD, OR AO3, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

Taglist:

@desert-fern @horseshoegirl @dakotakazansky @sarahsmi13s @teacupsandtopgun @footprintsinthesxnd @roosterforme @beyondthesefourwalls @mak-32 @thedroneranger @chaoticassidy @shanimallina87 @kmc1989

[semperamans]

(inspired by my angel baby honey love suse and her incredible post that you must read here)

this song is so angst!benny coded :'(

"last night i heard my own heart beating sounded like footsteps on my stairs - six months gone and i'm still reaching even though i know you're not there"

you swear you see him everywhere even though that's impossible because according to a tearful johnny, benny is gone - left the night he broke your heart and hasn't been back since. last you heard he was on the west coast and it's a fucking shame that he would carry your broken heart so far away with no real intention of ever bringing it back. he's not dead, at least you really fucking hope not, but he haunts you just the same. he smiles from the window of the diner you used to frequent and creeps into your mind with every backfiring engine. you can't help but picture the deep crease between his brows and the way you'd thumb it away and smile at him and he'd kiss you and you thought it would be like that forever but now you're sobbing into your pillow again because love like that is supposed to last a lifetime and maybe it did because you feel like you died the second you walked out of his front door. benny's not dead, but he killed you.

"i know people change and these things happen, but i remember how it was back then. wrapped up in your arms and our friends are laughing 'cause nothin' like this has ever happened to them."

is it possible you conjured him in your head completely because nothing feels concrete anymore. it's summer now and the heat evokes memories you don't want to remember, don't want to see, but need to regardless because you're so disconnected that everyone is worried. johnny calls every day but you don't feel like talking, so most of the time you don't. you sit on the phone, static speaking loud and clear. there's a shoe box of polaroids thrown onto your comforter and it's taken you an hour to open it. why do you have to do this? to reacquaint yourself with that now-distant time in your life? it hurts. being happy hurts so you choke on it- wince, and cringe and cry as you flick through the fleeting flashes of a life you can't believe had been yours. the boy who held your waist and nuzzled his scruffy chin against your shoulder and stole your heart-shaped sunglasses and swore he'd marry you and vowed to never hurt you broke your heart. and you know what? fuck him. fuck benny. fuck benny. fuck benny.

"come back, come back, come back to me like you could, you could if you just said you’re sorry. i know that we could work it out somehow."

"would you take 'em back?" cal asks. the two of you share sips from a flask on your front stoop. the moon hangs low over the hazy chicago night. "y'know, if he ever came back?" you don't hesitate. "yes."

"if you're out there, if you're somewhere, if you're moving on I've been waiting on you every day since you've been gone. i just want it back the way it was before and i just wanna see you back at my front door."

it's colder now. you need a sweater whenever you go out, and you're going out more often, which is good. sonny tells you he's missed your smile, been awful dark without it, and you smack him good-naturedly across the chest. you're a bit more alive these days; johnny calls you a zombie - the girl who died and is now slowly starting to come back to life. it still hurts and some days you can barely tug yourself out of bed, but you do because you deserve a life. the holidays are quickly approaching and you break down when your momma asks if she needs to set a place for benny (your parents came around too late) but it's okay. you're okay and no, benny doesn't need a place at your table even though he's always going to have a place in your heart and hey, you'll be back - you've gotta run to the grocery for something - but you don't even make it out the door because a familiar figure is hunched on the front steps.

"come back, come back, come back to me like you would before you said its not that easy, before the fight, before i locked you out, but i'd take it all back now."

[scummy-writes]

Ikemen Tier List

whoaaa two posts together whoaaa (you guys didn't witness me doing this first to see if I had the energy to post a finished drabble today)

I've had trouble with the tier lists for a while because I feel like it didn't explain how I felt about these dudes half of the time, but I figured out a better way to mark the tiers and I feel like this sums it up great. And now you too can have a handy dandy 'How does Scum feel about X?' list! If Roderic had a sprite, I would put him in the daily thing, or maybe the top one? hm

Anyway, I'm gonna explain the tiers under the cut for extra clarifications.

[*Wants to write fanfics for 24/7*] : The Current Main Blorbo. All tremble before him - for he holds the writing braincell and he's all anyone hears about forever and ever - until another blorbo takes his spot (usually takes a few years). You'll see him as icons and photos and and and--------

On my mind daily, in some form: Sometimes these characters will be paired with the #1 chara, and so by extension they're thought about often. Sometimes they're not paired with them, but still thought about often. Despite my posting habits, I do enjoy these guys still. A lot, actually.

Think about a few times a week, offhandedly: Rubs chin. I think of Chev and Elbert as a rare comfort. A type of quiet one that is a plesant encouragement in some way or another. Or I get perplexed thinking about how they'd look ordering shitty coffee. Not much of an inbetween. But really I sometimes just enjoy the quiet comfort thoughts when i need them with those two.

Think about a few times a month: They used to be higher up in the faves, but I either got enough of them at some point (in a good way), friends love them with such glee that i just enjoy watching them simp for them, or they just got naturally shifted down in the line as more characters came into view. I won't talk about them much but I do like em in multiple ways.

Scared to think about (for my wallet): legally not allowed to like because I cannot max out my credit card (a joke). I really really really like Alfons and Victor but I am terrified they'll shoot the ranks in a couple of months, and that my wallet will be screaming to be spared (darius is still up for debate)

Want to like but (and/or for reasons cannot): hhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh

Random simping once a blue moon (idk why): I read a translated story of roger once when sitting in my car on a lunch break. I was reading as I was getting out, and nearly fell into the horn when reading about his cock. It tormented me for a week. This happens ocassionally with the others... maybe not a translated story, but i'll have a random thought that hits me like a bullet train and suddenly I'm stumbling and struggling to think about anything else for a bit. (Leonardo is here as punishment, he knows what he did)

Was Favorite when playing but ghosted game: Ikerev was the first(?) cybird game I played, followed very very closely by ikesen. I don't see a lot of stuff for them naturally on my dash, and bluntly ikerev just could not hold my attention especially after I lost my data and got cockblocked by shitty gacha pulls, but I hardcore simped for these dudes when I played. Well, jonah did get pushed to the bottom of that tier fairly quickly, but Shingen is still #1 there. Anju (oc) was originally made for him, and I suspect that when his...eternal(?) is released in eng, I'll be feral for a little bit and then go back to gil simping.

No opinion really: I just.....shrug. They're neither bad nor good. These are characters who I was either SUPER excited for and then sorely disappointed, characters I haven't felt drawn to, or characters I just....never....felt anything towards...even after reading their route... I'm assuming they're just not my type and that's why they're here.

No: I hold negative opinions due to XYZ personal reason. Or their vibes are just rancid to me. I don't care if others like them or not, I don't judge others for liking them.

[wellgoslowly]

Hello! I love reading your stories and I was wondering if I could get a request please. It’s for Lockwood and Co. One day, Lockwood stumbled into a small bookstore because it was raining and there he finds the reader (and her dog, a boxer please) who owns the bookstore and they start talking and the reader doesn’t think anything about it (because she talks to all her customers the same way) but Lockwood starts showing up more often at the bookstore to just to talk to her and slowly but surely they start falling for each other. Thank you so much!!!

Bookstore Girl

a/n: this is by far the longest request I've written to date! I'm very proud of it and I'd defo be interested in writing a part two. I also just love me a good bookstore romance so this was super fun to write! i listened to the song bookstore girl by charlie burg a lot while writing this!! also there's quite a bit of tea related discussions and I have never made tea so pls don't scream at me I am simply american and unexperienced.

pairing: lockwood × fem!reader

word count: 3.3k

warnings: none

notices: a character in this oneshot uses neopronouns [ey/em]!! if you don’t know what they are, please check this out- and if you don’t support people who use neopronouns, do not interact. If you comment hate, you will be blocked. neopronoun users are valid and loved on my blog, and I won’t tolerate hate of any kind. if you use neoprouns- know that I love you and you will always have a place in my writing (as a person who goes by they/she/ey)

tags: @ikeasupremacy @oblivious-idiot @givemea-dam-break @tangledinlove @neewtmas @losticaruss @waitingforthesunrise [if yall want to be tagged when I post requests, lmk in the comments! also sorry if I forgot anyone!!]

It was a slow, rainier-than-normal London afternoon when you first met Anthony Lockwood.

“Hi there… Would you happen to have anywhere I could sit and… dry off?” You had been shelving what was left of a new shipment of classics you had just received when you’d heard a distressed patron behind you. “Oh yes, of course.” You said as you turned to face the customer, suppressing a laugh at the sight before you. A handsome figure stood behind you, their dark long coat absolutely dripping as they wrapped it around themselves, trying to salvage some sense of warmth. “We have a cafe in the back, follow me… and try not to drip too much.” You joked, and goddamn, of course the pretty customer had a pretty laugh.

“Apologies, uh… ma'am.” He said, noticing the pronoun pin on the strap of your apron. “I was just walking home and the storm came out of nowhere and one of my roommates broke my umbrella last week… long story.” They explained as you led them to the small cafe situated in the rear of the store. “Would you like anything? Cocoa, Tea?” You offered as they sat down at a small table near the entryway. “Oh, tea would be perfect, thank you.” They spoke, and you couldn’t help but notice the rapier attached to their hip as the sheath scraped gently across the hardwood floor.

“How do you take it?” Nellie, your best friend, business partner, and head barista, asked from behind the counter. “Hm- surprise me. However you take it is fine.” The customer said with a smile. You slipped behind the counter, brushing past Nellie as ey flitted about looking for the secret stash of eir favorite tea that ey always keep hidden, only taking from it on “special occasions”. Nellie winked at you as you slipped into the backroom, looking for the spare blanket you always keep back there for cold winter days. You rolled your eyes and shooed Nellie away, causing em to laugh. Finding the soft reserve blanket, you turned to take it to the sopping wet customer, only to find Nellie blocking your way.

“What are you doing?” Nellie asked, a slightly mischievous glint in eir eyes. “Getting our dripping wet customer a blanket. Why?” You asked, suspicious of Nellie’s train of thought. “He’s nice. Asked me my pronouns and told me he goes by he/him. He’s pretty cute too.” You scoffed. “What does that have to do with anything?” You laughed, causing Nellie to roll eir eyes at you. “You never let anyone use your blanket, not even me.” You laughed again. “Yeah, Nellie, well, you’re never sopping wet when you ask. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I must attend to our customer.” You say, brushing past Nellie and ignoring eir laughter as you walked out of the backroom.

When you returned to the main floor, you noticed that the customer was no longer alone. “Bruce, leave the poor guy alone.” You laughed, watching as your dog, a Boxer, jumped up, front paws landing on the customer’s lap as the customer laughed. “It’s not a problem, honestly. He’s quite cute.” You smiled, handing the blanket to the customer, who took it with a soft “thank you” and an appreciative smile.

“I'm glad you think so. Some of our older patrons don't like that we have a dog around, but I could care less.” You say, bending down slightly to pet Bruce on the head as he jumped down from the customer's lap. “Is he yours?” The customer asked as he wrapped the blanket around his body. You nodded, sitting down at a chair opposite the patron.

“Yep. This place, too.” You said with a cheerful smile as Bruce jumped into your lap. “Oh! I had no clue I was in the presence of the owner.” You laughed, scratching behind Bruce's ears. “No, I'm serious, that's really cool. I run my own business too, but it's not… quite like this.” He chuckled, almost to himself, glancing down at the rapier on his hip.

“Wait- you run your own agency?” You asked, intrigued. You had vaguely heard of agents running their own agencies, but you hadn't necessarily believed that someone your age was capable of running something like that. And yet it kind of made sense, taking in his appearance- the long coat, white button down, black tie, and slightly too-tight pants gave the desired effect of making him look slightly older and a bit more authoritative.

He smiled and stuck out his hand. “Anthony Lockwood, of Lockwood & Co, at your service. Most people just call me Lockwood.” You smiled, shaking his hand in turn as Bruce grumpily whined at the loss of your hand. “[Name], of Read Rose Books. Pleasure to meet you, Lockwood. You know, I think I've heard of you. You did the Annabelle Ward Case a while back, right?” He nodded, a sparkle appearing in his eye at your mentioning of hearing of his agency. “Yes, that was us. It's a pleasure to meet you as well, [name].”

“And I'm Nellie.” Nellie had a knack for sneaking up on you at the worst times, and that day was no exception as Nellie had somehow crept up behind you without a sound. ~~The customer~~ Lockwood himself didn't seem to notice Nellie's presence, jumping about 3 feet in the air at eir arrival. Nellie set down Lockwood's tea, and he thanked em before taking a sip.

“Oh my god, this is amazing.” He said, turning to Nellie. “How did you do that? I've never tasted anything like it before.” You could see Nellie beam at Lockwood's praise, and you couldn't help but smile. “Secret recipe” was all Nellie said before ey flounced back behind the counter.

Lockwood chuckled, taking another sip. “George- one of my housemates, would love em. He's really into cooking too- makes all sorts of elaborate meals that always taste amazing.” You chuckled, looking back at Nellie. “Even I don't know what Nellie puts in there- ey've never told me.”

“If there's anyone who could get the recipe out of Nellie, it's George. He's an insanely good cook, and he loves tea more than the average person.” You both laughed softly before Lockwood spoke up again.

“Speaking of George, do you have a phone I could use to call home? Just to tell my housemates where I am.” “Oh, of course! Follow me.” With a distressed whine from Bruce, who had to depart from your lap, you got up off you chair and led a blanket-clad Lockwood over to the front desk, where your store phone was located. “Thank you so much, I should be quick.” He said, picking the phone up. “Don't worry about it, take as much time as you need.” You assured him. “I'll be right over there stocking some classics if you need me.” He nodded, and you walked back to where you had been dutifully stocking the beautiful new editions of Pride and Prejudice, making a mental note to leave one aside to purchase later for your own personal collection.

You were still within earshot, so you could hear most of the conversation that Lockwood was having (not that you were purposefully eavesdropping, of course- it was very quiet in the store so it was very hard to try and not hear his conversation. You did try, though.) Lockwood's conversation started with a “Hi George, I wanted to let you know that I'm ok-” before Lockwood was promptly cut off by a loud voice shouting at him, causing Lockwood to jump and have to hold the phone away from his ear for a moment.

“Hello to you too, Luce. Look, I'm fine- I got caught in the storm and *someone* broke my umbrella on that case last week so I had to seek shelter before it got too bad. Don't worry- I'm at that bookstore in town… The one George has been wanting to check out? Read Rose? The staff has been very nice and helped me to warm back up but I'm not sure when I'll be able to come home with how the storm is going.” A moment of silence followed as someone- Lucy, you assumed- spoke to Lockwood. The quiet was broken only by the sound of books being pushed into their respective slots on the shelves.

“No, no, Lucy, you are not coming to get me. I don't care if you broke my umbrella, I won't allow you to walk over here in the rain- Lucy? Lucy?!” And then Lockwood let out a frustrated sigh and put the phone back down on the receiver. You looked back up at him, stifling a laugh at his exasperated expression. “I guess one of my housemates is coming to retrieve me.” He laughed, running a hand through his still-wet hair as he looked outside at the still raging storm. “From what I could hear, they sound very stubborn.” He chuckled. “Oh, she is. Lucy is insanely stubborn, believe me.” You laughed, liking the picture you were putting together in your head of this Lucy already. “To be fair, something tells me you're fairly stubborn yourself.” You chuckled. Lockwood gasped, putting a hand to his heart. “You wound me.” He said, and you both fell in to laughter.

Your laughs subsided after a moment, and you fell into a comfortable silence as you stocked and Lockwood walked around, perusing the aisles of books. You two stayed like that for a couple of minutes, and you had never been more content to just be quiet with someone before. “Now I understand why George has been bugging me to visit here for so long. We haven't had much time- cases have been piling up so George is either at home or at the Archives most of the time these days.” You nodded in understanding as he took a book off a shelf near you and examined the cover.

“I get it. Not the agency work- I don't have any Talents. The stress, I mean. My grandmother owned this place and passed it down to me when she passed. Every day there's something new to take care of or a new problem that comes up.” You laughed as you put the last book on the shelf. Lockwood laughed as well. “I know exactly what you mean. You love it though, don't you?” He asked, turning to you. He smiled as your eyes met his, and you gave him a smile in return. “Yeah,” You said softly. “I really do.”

He grinned, and was opening his mouth to say something when there was a sudden noise at the door, and then there was a borderline soaked girl holding an umbrella standing breathless in the doorway. This must be Lucy, you thought to yourself. She was obviously righteously pissed, her hair dripping as she tried desperately to control the bangs that were matted to her forehead. “Lockwood, you idiot.” She said, shoving the umbrella at Lockwood and turning to face you. She sent a look Lockwood's way, which you translated to say something like “who is this?”. Lockwood smiled.

“Lucy, this is [name], owner of Read Rose Books. She and her friend Nellie have been very welcoming and helped me to get warm. [Name], this is my associate, Lucy Carlyle.” Lucy rolled her eyes, elbowing Lockwood in the ribs and whispering something like “you can just introduce me as your friend, you dickhead” before she turned her attention to you, smiled, and stuck out her hand for you to shake. You did, softly saying “nice to meet you”, as did Lucy. “Thank you for taking care of this one.” Lucy said after your handshake had ended, pointing to Lockwood. You laughed. “It was no problem at all, really.”

Lockwood moved to return the blanket you you, but you refused. “You need it more than I do. Just make sure to return it whenever you can, ok?” He smiled appreciatively, nodding in understanding before Lucy grabbed him by the arm ans hauled him to the door. “Thank you again!” Lockwood yelled at the same time Lucy said “Have a nice night!”, and then they were out the door and the shop was silent again.

Nellie was there within seconds, pressing a warm cup of cocoa into your hand. “I'm never getting that blanket back, am I?” You asked em softly. “Probably not, no.” Ey agreed.

---

It was a week until you saw Anthony Lockwood again.

It was sunny outside this time, and you had a pretty nice crowd going inside the small Read Rose venue. You were just finishing up a customer's transaction, barely had the words “have a good one” out of your mouth, when you saw him enter the store. He had on the same outfit, but his hair was more styled, in a totally not attractive way. He was entering the shop with someone who you didn't recognize. They were slightly shorter, with brown skin and curly dark hair and glasses.

You noticed the second that Lockwood found you, watching his eyes light up and a smile form on his face as he waved. You waved back and returned the smile when you saw what Lockwood was carrying in his left hand.

“I was thinking I'd never see that blanket again.” You joked as Lockwood and his companion walked up to the front counter. Lockwood chuckled. “I see how little faith you have in me.” He spoke as he passed the blanket over to you. “Well, she's not exactly unfounded. Remember that time I leant you a sweatshirt and I didn't get it back for a month?” You laughed as you placed the folded blanket on a shelf beneath the counter, not seeing Lockwood sharply elbow his companion in the ribs.

“Anyways, [Name], this is my best friend and business associate, George Karim. He's the one I told you about that's really good at cooking. ” You reached out your hand for George to shake, but he ignored it and turned to examine your store. Within seconds, he was walking away to an aisle that had caught his eye, leaving you behind with Lockwood as you yelled out a rushed, “it was nice to meet you!”

Lockwood smiled apologetically. “Don't mind him. He's au- he can be a bit brash, but he's a good guy, once you get to know him.” You smiled back as you waved your hand in a dismissing manner. “Don't worry about it. I hope I do. Get to know him, that is. Lockwood & Co. seems like a very fun bunch.”

All Lockwood could do was smile before George returned, informing you that they would be back soon but they had a case that night that they had to prepare for. You nodded in understanding. “I'll look forward to your next visit. Be safe out there.” One last dazzling smile from Lockwood and he was gone, being borderline pushed outside by George as you laughed.

---

It went on like that for weeks- at least once a week, Anthony Lockwood would wander into your shop, only once or twice actually buying a book. You got to know each other fairly well- you learned that he hated sugar in his tea, that he always wore pink socks, that he didn't always wear suits, and that he started wearing [favorite color] ties whenever he came to visit after you told him it was your favorite color.

You learned that his favorite genres were classics and mystery (and that he had a bit of an obsession with gossip magazines). Often times, he would come in right before closing a couple times a week and sit and read with you to pass the time before you closed and walked you to your flat a block away.

Every time this happened, Nellie would leave work a half an hour before you and give you a set of totally non-subtle winks before flitting off into the sunset. Lockwood never seemed to notice eir suggestive winks, and if he did, he never appeared too flustered.

Nellie would corner you every morning after, grilling you for every detail. “Why do you even care?” You would say, laughing as you unlocked the storefront. “Because a super hot guy is obviously falling for my best friend!” Ey would exclaim, and you would roll your eyes and laugh it away, making sure to change the subject while you tried not to dwell on the possibility that Nellie was right.

---

“Well, well, well, if it isn't my favorite bookseller. Do you ever take a day off?” You laughed from your perch on one of the bookshelf ladders, looking down to see Lockwood standing below you, a smile on his face and his hands on his hips. You laughed. “Hi, Lockwood. To what do I owe the pleasure?” You bent over, grabbing a book to put up on the top shelf.

“I was sent by George to search for a book he was looking for.” Came the reply, not an uncommon excuse. You turned to reach for another book to stock, but you realized that Lockwood was holding out a book for you. “Thank you.” You said softly, and he looked up from the synopsis of a book in his hand to smile at you. “Of course. It seems you're a bit of a workaholic- I'd love to help in any way I can.” You laughed as you shelved the book.

“You're one to talk. Pretty much every time you come in here you've got that getup on and intense bags under your eyes.” You joked as you descended the ladder, taking the empty box from Lockwood's hands.

“Well, one needs to be a little bit obsessed to lead a top agency, don't they?” He asked, following you to the cafe. Nellie brightened as ey saw Lockwood trailing after you, calling out and asking if Lockwood wanted anything. “Yes, please, Nellie. Could you by any chance make your secret recipe tea to go? I really need to get going, but I was in the area and I just wanted to stop by.” Nellie smiled. “Aye aye, captain.” Ey said before they started the tea making process.

“I thought you came in to look for a book for George.” You said, turning to him with an eyebrow raised and a smile on your face. You giggled as you watched Lockwood flush. “Ah, yes, well, you see-” He was so caught up in his mumbling that he didn't realize that Nellie had appeared next to him, a bag in eir hand. “Jesus, Nellie.” Lockwood jumped, and Nellie chuckled. “Not Jesus- people do often get us confused.” Nellie joked before pushing the bag in front of him.

“What's this?” Lockwood asked, cocking a brow. "A gift for you, George and Lucy. For being such great patrons.” Lockwood smiled. “You really don't have to-” Lockwood started to speak, but Nellie interrupted him. “I insist.” Ey said before turning and running away before Lockwood could fight anymore.

Lockwood turned to you and scoffed. You chuckled. “Ey really like making baked goods for people.” You explained. Lockwood smiled, and the two of you lapsed into a comforting silence, taking in the slow crowd that filled in and out of Read Rose Books.

After a moment, Lockwood broke the silence. “Are you- would you be amenable to visiting Portland Row tonight?” His question caught you off guard, but you smiled nonetheless. “I could be convinced. Why? What's in Portland Row?” You asked, turning to look at him. He smiled softly, a soft flush dusting his cheeks. “Lockwood & Co. We just finished a pretty big successful case so we're throwing a small get together at the house, if you wanted to come?” He asked, and you could sense the nerves radiating off of him. You smiled, nudging his shoulder as you turned to face away from him, trying to draw attention away from the blush that was slowly spreading across your face.

“I'd love to.”

eeeek thank you so much for reading!! pls leave feedback, it truly makes my day :) also if you want to request or see my other works, my masterlist is linked in my about me post which is pinned :)

I love you all so much, remember to stay hydrated, and I hope yall have an amazing day!!! mwah

xoxo linnie <3

[billlydear]

pairing: billy hargrove x steve harrington / WC: 4501

summary: based on this post by @ariesbilly (i was anon), el shops rather creatively for billy's birthday and steve has some things to say about his new look

this will be crossposted on AO3 as soon as i've got the time to set up a new account there. i hope you enjoy, and please consider leaving some feedback! also, i've got a harringroveson spidey/venom au in the works, so please let me know if you'd like to see that :-)

Billy’s genuinely, truly concerned when Jim pulls him aside at his little birthday dinner, and not just because he’s still a tiny bit wary around the man. He hasn’t done anything awful yet, so far there’s not a bone in his body that resembles his dad’s, but Billy’s lived with Neil all his life, and Jim only a few months. He’s getting better, but he’s not there yet.

“Listen,” Jim murmurs, taking the hand he’d used to usher Billy into the kitchen off of his arm. Billy appreciates it, it’s like Jim knows he doesn’t like being grabbed; like he pays attention to Billy’s comfort.

“She’s come a long way,” Jim praises El, “-but gift giving for anyone but Max is… hard. She just shops for herself, it’s like-” Jim rubs an exasperated hand over the scruff on his chin, leaned up against the kitchen counter while Billy leans in slightly to hear his low voice, “It’s like she finds something she likes. And since she likes the person she’s giving it to, she equates the two. ‘Thinks that whatever she likes, they’ll like too. That’s why I drink out of that glittery cup every morning,” Jim gestures to the tumbler currently drying on the rack, ‘BFF’ written in white loopy letters on the plastic, “She’s got the spirit, just not the know-how. And I was really trying to get her to branch out for you, I took her to the mall but she beelined for Claire’s, and-” Jim sighs, shooting a cautious glance back to the living room where the girls are waiting with their gifts, “Just- please act like you like ‘em. If you want, I’ll give you the receipt, and you can return them for cash, just- humor her. Please.”

“Okay,” Is all Billy says, really all he can think of saying, and Jim reaches out to pat his bicep.

“Thanks,” His shoulders slump in relief, “Alright, birthday boy, let’s get going.”

Billy’s used to birthday gifts, but not nice ones. If he was lucky, he’d get gas money for the week from his dad, but that’s only because Susan insisted on acknowledging the day. Gifts have always been an obligation, never a gesture, so sitting on the couch in front of three tissue-paper-stuffed bags is a bit daunting for the man.

“Mine first,” Max demands, pushing her bag forward. Billy sends her what he hopes she perceives as a smile, a small twitch at the corners of his lips. They’ve gotten a lot better with each other now that Neil’s not goading Billy anymore, and Billy’s glad for it.

Inside there’s a gift card to a surf shop he’d worked at one summer back in California. He doesn’t even know if there’s anything on it - for all he knows, she found it in a box of his old stuff - but just seeing the logo of the place makes him nostalgic, and his barely-smile blooms into an unbridled one. The gift of memory is one he didn’t know he’d appreciate this much.

“Damn,” He huffs out a laugh, plucking the thin plastic out of the tissue, “Where’d you find this?”

“I wrote to my grandma,” Max confesses, “There’s 50 bucks on there, but for the record, all I sent her to put on there was 20.”

Billy remembers Max’s grandma; they’d visited her once. She was awesome, but the kind of awesome that made parents distrust her, and contact was lost after the move to Hawkins. The old lady had crammed Billy and Max into the back of her cluttered bug to get ice cream after Neil and Susan had gone to bed, and it was nice for Billy to hear she was still doing well.

“Thanks,” Billy laughs, almost a scoff as he reaches out to ruffle her hair. She pretends to hate it, maybe she does a little, but she lets him, which is like another birthday gift: Annoying Privileges.

He sees a flash of black as he puts the gift card back in the tissue, and it explains why the tiny plastic was wrapped so excessively.

Don’t show Hopper, the note reads, with an arrow down, so he discretely peels away the paper to find three cartons of cigarettes beneath it. He’ll worry about how she got them later, for now he shoots her a smirk that she returns.

“Alright, mine’s kinda-” Jim fumbles for his bag, “-tied into hers. Here, kid.”

The tissue crinkles under Billy’s fingers, and he peers down into the blue bag to see a paper.

He pulls it out, squinting at the fine print.

It’s a hotel booking. A hotel in California, shit, right by the beach.

“I already called you off of work,” Jim smiles at Billy, “It’s about a month from now. Only condition is you take the girls with you, they’ve got their own room and we’ll send ‘em with gas money.”

Max’s grin is bright, and Billy knows this is just as much of a gift for her as it is for him. His chest feels tight, like each word on the page had sucked air out of his lungs until there was none left, and now he’s struggling to breathe. He’s wanted to go back since the moment he left, but his dad never would have let him, and moving in with Jim and El then immediately fleeing the state seemed rude, so he’s grateful for the push. He doesn’t even know how to begin thanking Jim, so he starts with the words themselves.

“Thank you,” Billy croaks, trying not to let a gush of emotions overwhelm him. “Seriously, I-” His voice wavers and he clamps his mouth shut, looking down and pinching his fingers along the folded crease of the paper to thin it down even more, “Thank you, Jim.”

“Don’t mention it,” Jim reaches out again, gives him that little pat pat to the bicep instead of trying to hug him. Billy thinks just for that, he will let Jim hug him next time.

Once Billy’s regained his composure and only let one gruff sniffle slip, El is handing over her bag.

“Mine was not as much money as theirs,” She looks serious, like Billy’s going to backhand her for not renting them an RV for the trip, “I’m sorry.”

“Hey,” Jim starts, ready to console her and teach her an etiquette lesson, but Billy lets out a weak chuckle.

“Don’t worry about it, El.” He tugs at the tissue paper, “One time I wrote I.O.U. on a piece of paper for Max’s birthday.”

El’s brows furrow at the unfamiliar phrase, and Max leans in, “It means I owe you, like, ‘I owe you one’. He didn’t get me anything.”

“I offered you something,” Billy gripes, pausing in his unwrapping efforts, “Not my fault you chucked it out.”

“Oh, no,” Max laughs, “I still have it. But I wasn’t gonna waste it on arcade tokens. I’m gonna make it count, you’re gonna bail me out of a bad party or lie to the cops about-”

She reconsiders, looking at Hopper who’s stiffened slightly, his eyes narrowed at her, “-Nothing. Lying to cops is bad.”

“Nice save,” Billy deadpans, ducking his head back down towards the bag. The tissue inside is messy, he can tell El did it herself. 

Beneath the first layer of tissue, the stuff crumpled up to give the present volume, there’s six individually wrapped packages. Billy’s stomach does a little flip; call it nerves, call it endearment, but whatever it is, he reaches for the first package without paying it any mind.

His fingers peel at the tape sticking it all together, and his strong grip rips the tissue. He goes with it, tearing into the gift, and a purple plastic card falls into his hand. It’s punched in two places near the middle, and inside each hole is an earring. They’re- not his style.

They’re studs, little balls of gel in rainbow colors with squishy spikes sticking out of them. They honestly look like something a kindergartener would make with a hot glue gun, but there’s an expectant smile on El’s face and Billy finds himself smiling back at her, genuinely so.

“Thanks, El,” He flips the package over, price tag ripped off messily and silver backings staring at him, “These are cool.”

“I know you like earrings. There’s more,” She prompts him, the section of her hair that she’s tied up bouncing as she leans forward enthusiastically, “Open them.”

“Okay,” He laughs, setting the earrings aside. The second package yields another pair, this time two pieces of bread with little smiley faces on them, one painted brown for peanut butter and the other purple for jelly.

“That’s cute,” Billy laughs breathily, “That’ll go good with my purple button up.”

“Mhm,” El nods, hair once again bouncing, “That’s what I thought.”

As Billy expects, each package contains a pair of earrings. He gets tiny springs, a gradient of pink to purple to blue covering the curved metal, and they look like they’d be permanently damaged if he stretched them out even once. Then a pair of jellyfish-inspired ones, a clay head with a smile on its face connected by metal rings to all of the tentacles dangling below. Next are lollipops, stiff sticks leading into plastic that’s swirled in design and shaped like a bear’s head with yet another smiley face. Each little black curve on the earrings’ faces only makes his own grow. The fifth pair are meant to look like goldfish, suspended in resin that fills the bowl to make it look like they’re swimming in water. It’s the most intricate pair of earrings he’s ever seen, he’ll give Claire that. The final pair is much bigger than the others, and when he unwraps it, a pom-pom sticks out.

They’re big puffballs, tie-dyed pink and purple, connected to a peace sign stud that goes through his ear. They’re obnoxious, something you’d only see on a child whose grandparents had bought the biggest pair of earrings they could find because their vision was too poor to appreciate any smaller designs. Nevertheless, Billy pops the squishy backing off of one of them, and sticks it between his teeth. He slips his own earring out of his ear, and tucks it into the breast pocket of the shirt he’s wearing. He sticks the puffball into his ear right then and there, and El’s grin is almost unbearably wide.

“It looks pretty,” She gushes, and Billy laughs.

“Thank you, El.” He gives her the obligatory brotherly hair ruffle as well, but she looks honored compared to Max’s exasperation. In leaning forwards to reach her, the metal point of the second earring digs into Billy’s palm where he’s holding the card still, and he glances down at it thoughtfully.

“Here,” He thinks fast, plucking the backing off of it and handing it to El, “Let’s match.”

She looks at it wide-eyed, caught off guard, “You want me to wear the other one?”

“Duh,” He nods, hand still outstretched, “How else are people gonna know who bought them for me?”

She’s more than happy to snatch the second earring from him, sliding it into her own pierced ear and shivering slightly at the feeling of the fluff brushing against her skin. 

“Alright,” Jim claps, a loud, striking sound, “You guys look great. Cake time?”

“Cake time,” Max agrees, already rising to her knees to stand and head for the kitchen, “Chocolate, Billy, your favorite.”

Billy’s all Thank you’d out. Not because he’s not thankful for this, because he’s more than that, but because he’s said it so many times today that the words are starting to lose their meaning, and he doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want to be insincere, so he’ll save the ‘Thank you’s for when they really count.

Max and El settle on the floor in front of the tv to watch the movie they’ve picked out, clearly one that Jim hadn’t seen until now.

“Oh, not Terminator,” He reaches for the television to shut it off, but both girls scramble to fight him off, “It’s rated R, girls!”

“It’s Billy’s favorite,” Max huffs, and that’s not true, but he knows nothing in the movie will shock her, and El grew up being bounced around dimensions, so she probably won’t lose any sleep over a bit of blood.

“It’s true,” Billy drawls settling back on the couch with his cake and his beer (that Jim only reluctantly handed him because it’s his birthday), “But it’s fine, Jim, we don’t have to watch what I want, they can turn on My Little Pony or some shit.”

Jim wonders briefly how he’s been outsmarted by two tweens and a teenager. If he says no, he’s the asshole that ruins Billy’s birthday. If he says yes, the girls are going to see gratuitous shots of naked Arnold Schwarzenegger that he’d rather them not witness.

“You cover your eyes for the first scene,” Jim finally concedes, narrowing his eyes at Max and El, “I mean it, no peeking or I’ll do it for you.”

“Okay,” They agree, already far too amused for Jim’s liking, and Max turns to grin mischievously at Billy. It’s nice, he thinks, to do dumb shit with her. Like real siblings.

The movie starts, and Jim’s a bit too preoccupied eagle-eyeing the girls to make sure they’re not seeing anything raunchy to notice that Billy’s paying more attention than he ought to be. But once the man straightens back up so does Billy, mentally so, and turns his attention to Jim when he leans over towards Billy.

“Hey,” Jim’s whisper is gruff, but El doesn’t hear, “Thanks for that. She’s really happy.”

“No problem,” Billy admits, “They’re… different, but they’re kinda cool.”

Jim laughs, and Billy gets the sense that Jim doesn’t think he’s being sincere, but really, he is. The earrings themselves aren’t kinda cool, a year ago he’d rather have pitched himself into the quarry than wear rainbow-colored springs dangling from his ears, or a smiley piece of peanut butter toast, but what’s kinda cool is that someone gave them to him because they thought he’d like them; because they like him. 

What’s kinda cool is love, Billy figures out that night, and his cake tastes a little sweeter because of it.

--

El doesn’t usually accompany Billy to work at the auto shop, but that’s only because he leaves too early for her to be awake yet. She’s recently discovered sleeping in, and sometimes she’s not awake before two in the afternoon. Now, though, she’s bursting with excitement for the California trip, even though it’s not for another month. Billy hadn’t slept with the puffball earring in, but he’d put it right back on this morning, and so had El. They’re sitting behind the counter now, planning an itinerary for the trip he’s not too stressed about, because he knows El will lose the paper before they leave in a month.

“And we have to go to In-n-Out,” She decides, “I know those are in California.”

“Yeah,” Billy laughs, “They’re not that good. I mean, I like ‘em, but there’s good burger places everywhere. They have these palm trees though,” He moves  his hands to cross over each other, “They cross like an ‘x’, it’s pretty cool. My friend tried to climb one once, we got kicked out.”

El giggles, and her eyes wrinkle at the corners with the expression. Billy likes it, he wonders if his own eyes scrunch when he laughs. But he doesn’t do it very often, and especially not in front of a mirror, so he might never know.

She excuses herself to go to the bathroom, so Billy turns his attention to their customer log instead. There’s a man coming by in two hours to pick up his car, but the repairs are complete, so Billy doesn’t have to do anything about it. And there’s another customer coming at five for an oil change, but it’s only eight in the morning. He hears the scrape of wheels on gravel, and he cranes his neck to see over the reception desk and out the door.

Fuck. It’s a red beemer, one he knows almost better than his own car because of how frequently he’d crammed his camaro in beside it in the high school parking lot. It’s Steve Harrington’s car, and that means Steve Harrington came with it.

Billy tugs on the hem of his tank, tightening the shirt over his chest. It’s not that he wants to look good for Steve, it’s just- well, no, that’s it. The banter he’d shared with Steve over their time at Hawkins High was the most tension he’d felt in his entire life, and it came at a time when he sought thrill and excitement the most; apparently being sweat-covered, shirtless opponents on the basketball court does things to a man’s head. He’s not naive enough to think he’s gonna be able to sweep the guy off of his feet with one suave remark, not when just last week Max had somehow convinced the man to give her a ride back home from Jim’s place after a sleepover, and Steve had seen Billy bleary-eyed, messy-haired, and pajama-clad. He’d tried to own it, leaned back on the couch with his legs spread, one arm up on the back of the couch and exposed by the shirt he was wearing as he nodded with a lazy grin at Steve, ‘Morning, Harrington’. If he’d squinted, he could see a bit of pink coloring Steve’s cheeks. But a success or not, the experience was embarrassing, and he’s glad that he’s a little more put together today. 

Billy forgets just how put together he is today. He feels the soft brush of the fuzzy earring against his neck right as Steve starts towards the store, and his stomach drops.

He has a very important choice to make.

He can take the earring out, giving him a better chance at this coy little game they have going, and subsequently insult his new sister, or, he could leave it in, puff up his chest with pride, and greet Steve with confidence, ultimately risking his win.

He almost tears his ear from how hard he rips the earring out.

“Harrington,” Billy drawls, “Car trouble?”

“Battery’s dead,” The man huffs, and there’s sweat beading at Steve’s hairline, “I had to push’er down the street, I was getting groceries.”

Billy feels like a cartoon character; he almost audibly gulps at the thought of Steve muscling his car down the road. He wonders if Steve could see his Adam’s apple bobbing if he really did dry swallow. He wonders if Steve would watch.

“Tough luck,” Billy sends Steve a lazy grin, passing the sign-in book over the counter with a pen, “Just fill that out, I’ll get your service started.”

“Thanks,” Steve mumbles, “Got an estimate?”

“Depends,” Billy shrugs, “I might do you a favor and replace those ugly seats you’ve got, too. That’ll cost extra.”

“Like your car’s hot shit,” Steve scoffs, but his tone isn’t demeaning, and Billy’s chest does that weird tight thing again when he realizes they’ve advanced to friendly banter, “Do you know how ugly that blue and yellow license plate looks against the blue of your car?”

He laughs, but before Billy can quip back, say that it’s California grade, that he’d rather die than replace it, the door to the back opens up, and El comes out.

“Steve!” She smiles sweetly, “Is your car broken?”

“Yeah,” He laments, eyeing her accessory, “Woah, crazy earring.”

“Billy has one, too.” She brags, then notices it’s missing from his ear. Billy’s stiffened where he’s rifling through the desk drawers for a form to give Steve, and before he can make any excuses, El spots the puffball where it’s fallen to the floor.

“Oh!” She lunges for it, handing it to Billy with a sweet smile, “It fell out. Here it is.”

Billy has another choice to make.

Scoff at her, say ‘nice one’, and tell her to put her earring back in. Or, take it from her and embarrass himself in front of Steve.

This time, he decides she’s ultimately more important.

“Thanks, El.” He grins at her, taking the puffball from her hand and hooking it expertly through his ear. It dangles against his neck, and he passes the form over to Steve who’s looking between the two of them with some sort of guarded amusement.

“Fill this out, too.” Billy instructs, “And I’ll start on your car.”

“O-kay,” Steve complies, more of that amusement painting his features as he ducks his head to fill out the form, “Pink looks good on you, Hargrove.”

Billy shuts the door to the back room as a response. He feels like punching the wall, because did that mean ‘good’ as in good? Or good as in ‘ridiculous’? He’s well aware Steve had a mean streak in high school, and Billy isn’t interested in being bullied.He’s never worried about being bullied by his peers before, he was always on top. Now it’s different, this isn’t high school and he doesn’t have backup boys to make his posse. It’s a one-on-one fight, and Steve’s got the advantage. And- and if it did mean good, what’s he supposed to do with that information? Wear a pink shirt the next time he sees Steve? Go as Pink Panther for halloween? He considers just about everything but dying his hair, mind swirling with possibilities.

He starts on Steve’s car to distract himself, and he barely manages to gather the courage to take his shirt off to push Steve’s beemer into the garage like he’d originally planned. He still does, of course. But it’s a hard decision to make.

--

“Steve,” El steps out from behind the counter, walking over to where Steve’s flipping through an old Highlights that Billy’s boss keeps there for kids, “What did you get Billy for his birthday?”

The man flounders, “Uh, when’s his birthday?”

El’s brows furrow, “It was yesterday. You didn’t get him anything?”

“No,” Steve shakes his head, “Sorry, El. I’m sure he didn’t expect me to, though, ‘probably didn’t hurt his feelings.”

“But friends give each other birthday presents.” She insists, “Why didn’t you?”

“He’s not my friend,” Steve grimaces slightly, but backtracks when El only gets more scandalized, “We- I… Ugh,’ He groans, rubbing a hand down his face, “We, like, hated each other in high school or something. I think he’s only nice to me now ‘cause he has to be, we’re all friendly, y’know?”

“Billy likes you,” El promises, “That’s why he comes out of his room when he knows you’re coming over. And why he always takes us to get ice cream. He likes seeing you.”

“Uh, I think-” Steve stammers, heart pounding so viciously he can hear it, “That’s probably… not what that means. Hey, um, do you have any water I could have? I’m really thirsty from pushing my car.”

He’s out from under her scrutinous gaze for long enough to compose himself, tamping down any hope she might have given him. It doesn’t help that he’s first heard Billy’s genuine laugh today, and the vision of the man’s bright eyes, scrunched and wrinkled at the corners have been plaguing him ever since. Things need to stop piling up, he decides.

When she gets back she sits in the chair beside him, one leg bent beneath her and the other firmly planted on the floor, “You should get him a birthday present.”

Steve hums, bringing the cup she hands him to his lips to buy him time to respond. Eventually, he settles on, “I’ll try to find something,” and she seems to like that answer, so she lets it go.

“I got him earrings,” She explains, and pieces of the puzzle start to fall into place in Steve’s head, “The ones that he’s wearing now. And five other pairs.”

“Wow,” Steve nods, feigning awe even though he knows Jim probably paid for them himself, “That was nice of you. He liked ‘em?”

“Yes,” She nods, “He likes earrings. And he said he’s going to wear them with me when we go to California.”

“California,” Steve echoes, brows raised, “That’s nice. When are you going?”

“In a month,” El recites, “Billy’s from California.”

“Yeah,” Steve nods, eyes drawn to Billy’s framed employee picture on the wall, noticing the tan adorning the smooth skin of his handsome face, “I know.”

--

“Okay,” Billy turns to look at the girls in his backseat, bright smiles on both of their faces, “Gas money?” 

“Check,” Max slides him a wad of cash, and so does El.

“Snacks?” Billy pulls his wallet out, stuffing the bills inside.

“Check!” El takes over this time, a plastic bag in her hand that’s filled with enough ziploc bags of goldfish to last them halfway through the road trip. 

“Bags?” 

“Check,” Max jabs a thumb towards the camaro’s trunk, “We didn’t forget our suitcases, Billy.”

“If you did, and I hadn’t asked, you would have blamed me,” Billy narrows his eyes at his stepsister, “Don’t make me push you out of the moving car.”

What can he say: things are better, they’re not perfect. She knows he’s joking, though, she sticks out her tongue in response.

“I have one more thing,” El calls, effectively breaking up Billy and Max’s banter. The two look curiously at her, and she passes Billy an envelope, thick towards the bottom left corner.

“It’s a late birthday present.” She informs him, “Open it. It’s for the trip.”

“El,” Billy tears at the envelope with a confused furrow in his brow, “You got me stuff for my birthday. Why more?”

“It’s not from me,” She admits, “Just open it.”

The envelope was sealed well, by whoever sealed it. Billy all but mangles the paper to remove its contents, and when he does, a pair of earrings falls out, mounted on a purple plastic card. Claire’s.

There’s a pink and white striped surfboard on the left side, and a glitter-covered palm tree on the left. There’s a note inside too, and Billy peels it apart much more cautiously than he had the envelope.

Billy,

Happy birthday. Enjoy California.

- Steve

P.S: I wasn’t kidding. You look good in pink.

Billy nearly rips the earring card trying to wrench the surfboard off. Once he gets it out, he slides it into his ear, passing the palm tree back to El and grinning at the girls through his rear-view mirror. He admires the way that the earring looks against his tanned skin, and- oh, look at that; his eyes do scrunch when he smiles.

“Ready?” He raises a brow, sunglasses perched on his head and lost in his curls  in wait of the California sun.

“Ready,” They confirm, and El’s nod sends the palm tree earring swinging beside her face.

Billy revs the engine, and it’s never been a happier sound, “California, here we come.”

[megzscribbleznwordz]

can you do a love language post for the plutonians from athf? i saw the others and really liked em :)

Sorry this took me a bit, I've had a very busy October </3 We need more Emory and Oglethorpe enjoyers, they're both so silly and sweet in their own ways. I hope it's worth the wait!

Oglethorpe

Quality Time: This dude is the clingiest neediest guy ever. Needs to be around you 24/7 or else he gets really whiny. Loves relaxing with you especially, just cuddling or chatting about whatever. He definitely tries to get you and Emory to be friends, even if it’s an excuse to spend time with both of you at the same time

Words of affirmation: Very awkward and oddly sweet with his compliments. He isn’t the best with words, so his compliments tend to draw based on skills and actions, rather than physical appearance. He’s the type to notice and compliment when you’ve made notable progress in a hobby, or express appreciation for your affections. Compliments like “Ah, that looks very nice! You’re doing a good job!”, “You give the best hugs”, “You’re a good kisser” All said with that cute tone filled with a sort of wonder.

Physical Touch: Very touchy…I headcanon that he’s very surprisingly strong and he just loves carrying you around. Definitely the clingy type though, like if you’re sitting together you’re only getting up upon his demand. Also loves it when you’re sitting on his lap… pretty much loves anything that lets others know that you’re his and he’s yours.

Acts of Service: You’re the only one he does acts of service for like…ever. Doesn’t even complain if it’s you asking. I mean, he does basic chores with strong complaints to whoever asks but for you he’d move mountains with that cute dopey love-struck smile spread across his face. You’re the only one he ever buys gifts for, the only one he offers to do chores for or offers to help, even small things like holding doors and carrying bags for you.

Giving/Receiving Gifts: He loves to receive gifts, doesn’t give them too often. Definitely goes all-out when he does, he’s not the best shopper but I headcanon that he’s pretty crafty and makes very surprisingly well-crafted and useful gifts. Handmade pottery especially, I swear half your home is random ceramic goods he’d made you. Makes a big spectacle of it too, he has to have a reason to give you a gift, even an insignificant one like your three-and-a-quarter-month anniversary

Emory

Quality Time: Emory loves planning dates and things for you to do together. He gets really creative with it too, one week it’ll be a movie date, the next you’re going skydiving together, the one after that you’re taking a cooking class… he’s a never ending fountain of things to do. At the end of the day, he’s happy to have somebody so ready to go out into the world and do with. 

Words of affirmation: He’s a big ol’ sweetie! Showers you with sweet words about pretty much anything imaginable. You’re commonly graced with “You’re-You’re really cute, you know that?”, “Awwe, you’re so sweet!” or observational compliments, especially when you change your appearance. He’s the first to notice. Be it cutting your hair, getting a new tattoo or piercing, trying out a new style, he’s the first to tell you how much he likes your new look!

Physical Touch: Not the biggest fan of PDA, he shows his affection in other ways. Of all things, he loves holding your hand. I feel like his distaste for PDA is a result of his introverted nature, and holding your hand brings him so much reassurance when you’re out and about together.

Acts of Service: Emory is big on casual acts of service. Smaller acts are pretty much daily; offering to get you something to drink every time he gets himself something, offering to make you food if he’s cooking or buy you something if he’s ordering, offering a hand if he catches you in the middle of a task. He provides a lot of support in every way shape or form.

Giving/Receiving Gifts: Emory isn’t too much of the giving type. He goes all out for the occasions he does (Birthdays, Anniversaries, Gifting Holidays) but he’s more of the plan and finance a fun date type. He’s very good at remembering the things you like, your hobbies, your tastes in pretty much anything there is…Emory has the best memory when it comes to you, literally remembers everything. 

[obae-me]

Two things!

Firstly: I will be accepting 10 requests!

I need to practice and just work on some things that aren't just my long form pieces right now. So, the first 10 requests I get, I will work on! My general rules are the same, no demoncest, no romantic Luke, etc, etc. I reserve the right not to do a request. You all get the deal by now. They won't be perfect, and they won't be extremely long (unless you tempt me with monsters or fluff), but I'll do 'em, and that's the important part.

Secondly: a general apology.

I know 'sorry's are not needed, it's not like I've taken money and ghosted or anything, but I hate just going MIA for so long. Also, I know it's not needed, but I thought I'd give a little life update for those that, I dunno, find it interesting I suppose.

TW for menstruation, blood, and general medical stuff

I posted here a while back- in the summer I believe- talking about how fainting is not as elegant as media makes it out to be. I talked about how I fainted and then just did my ha-ha's and got it out of the way. At the time, since the doctors at the hospital didn't find anything with their initial testing, we all chalked it up to a bit of dehydration, lack of sleep, and stress. I was inclined to believe them. I *was* bouncing between graveyard shifts and morning shifts and not sleeping well because of it.

Then the week after, I had one of the most painful periods of my life. I've not had great ones ever (who does?), but never enough to fully debilitate me. It was bad. Stabbing cramping pains strong enough to almost make me faint again. I was worried, but gaslit myself into thinking it's just because of the fainting the week prior; I had had extreme faintness and weakness all week.

My work at this time was coming up with stricter rules that would make things harder, and they told me that I'd have to apply for certain disability accommodations (like keeping certain medications I need close to me and not on a different floor behind a lock, so cool of them). So, I tried to find another job, one where I could hopefully sit down. So I spent two months working that all out. I have a temp remote one right now, yay!

The next month or two was fairly normal period wise. So I thought everything was 'okay'.

And then I stopped bleeding completely. No warning or anything, just...nothing. And it's particularly worrying because I've been on birth control since I was like 14 to balance out my hormones. So I waited till the month after make sure it wasn't a weird one-off. Still nothing. Went to the doctor and got a new kind of medication, and I waited a month. Nothing. And the pain is only ramping up every cycle (or the attempt of one). I spend two weeks of the month in extreme depression and pain, and then spend the two weeks after that picking up the slack. I haven't been able to write, haven't been able to do much of anything. My typical day is getting out of bed to work, order something to eat, and watch mindless YouTube till I sleep, I'm just THAT exhausted. Spoons? Nonexistant. Then, just a few weeks ago, I suffered some of the worst exhaustion of my life. I'm talking only being able to stay awake for 20 minutes and then having to take a nap, and doing that four or five times a day. I went through that for five days, and then on that last day, I practically collapsed and almost fainted again.

So I have my first Gyno appointment next month, and I am utterly terrified. So much of my life has been filled with doctors' appointments and testing, just for them to tell me they couldn't find anything, and it's either because I have anxiety or because I'm fat. *Love* the medical system. But then, on the other hand, I'm scared of them finding something severely wrong.

So, until December, I'm just...waiting. And, of course, I'm not trying to fish for sympathies. Just...sometimes, it's good to have something to treat as an echo chamber, and this blog sometimes is my cave to shout distorted worries to. I really *should* journal, I guess.

So! That's been my life since I last posted, really. And that's not even mentioning my grandpa who ended up in the hospital (he got hit by a RAM truck, absolutely insane, and he's mostly fine, what a trooper).

I'm really hoping that I'll have the energy to pour into my passions if we get everything worked out. And I'm really grateful to have this small community here for whoever is still sticking around, you all have been wonderful.

That's the end of the update! Maybe I'll drop the news if/when we make some discoveries on why my already defunct body is breaking down even more than usual.

Love you all!

-Mara

[welcome-home-art-dump]

Welcome Home x Kaiju reader in:

Humanized Home!

Headcanons: through an unexplained reason, Home has been given a more humanoid body which will let them interact with you better. This is my depiction of home being able to properly interact with reader if given a body.

Note: I've read on the website that Home is genderfluid, so I'll be using they/them pronouns.

Sorry if you were expecting something a bit more mature for Home's design, but I liked the idea of them looking more childish. [+I wanted to do something different-] And no, their mouth isn't visible like Hello Kitty.

And here, rather than just up and spontaneously transform (they have an occupant after all-) they have their consciousness manifest into a humanoid form.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

🏠 You kind of need to help them stand up at first and teach them how to walk since they weren't used to having legs.

🏠 Their first impulse is to feel your face and wings and marveled at how smooth they were. (Note: Poppy had to tell them to be careful with the wings since they were kind of clumsily groping your wings, due to being new to having hands.)

🏠 They often sit with you and play with your wings and tail a lot, as well as your hair. In general they like the new feeling sensation with their hands.

🏠 they absolutely love the feeling of intertwining their fingers with yours. They've never felt warmth like that before.

🏠 during this time, they liked to hug you a lot. Some times out of the blue. They like your warmth.

🏠 They are kind of childlike around you, acting curious and cutesy, but Sally firmly believes this is an act.

🏠 they communicate by whispering things in your ear. (Note: I like to think they wouldn't be used to verbal talking and would be unsure of their voice.]

🏠 they yearn for your attention the most out of everyone in the neighborhood.

👁 They secretly just want you to all themselves, which puts them at odds and ends with others. Especially Wally.

👁 They have a stare that's more intense than Wally's, and at times swirls appear in the pupils. For some reason once those appeared, the others didn't want to stick around too long.

👁 wonders why the other neighbors want them to go back to their stifling house form.

I might post a full ref of my depiction of human Home soon, but I hope this was sufficient.

~~~~~~~~~~

Idea is from a reader on this book.

Still open to em.

[ruvviks]

// oc in 15.

tagged by; @devilbrakers, thank you so much!! tagging; @reaperkiller, @vvanessaives, @hibernationsuit, @katsigian, @adelaidedrubman, @dickytwister, @rindemption, @noirapocalypto and YOU!

rules: share 15 or fewer lines of dialogue from an oc, ideally lines that capture the character/personality/vibe of the oc. bonus points for just using dialogue without other details about the scene, but you're free to include those as well!

decided to do this for vincent since he is the main character of my cyberpunk universe and it's been a hot sec since i talked about him! these bits are all from various fics including the broker which is a long fic that i'll never shut up about. sorry. i've included more than just the dialogue since a lot of vincent's manner of speech is also in his body language and internal monologue :^) his voice claim is basically masc v from in-game but with very distinct southern flair

from chapter 7 of the broker:

‘Here we are,’ Vincent repeated, stuffing his hands in the pockets of his jacket and flinching lightly when he heard an explosion in the distance. ‘Just another fuckin’ day in Night City.’

from an unreleased fic i still need to finish and post:

‘The Deckhead?' Vincent asked. 'Fried to a crisp. Found ‘im hooked up to the Net high off his tits- he had an intruder alarm set up but it caused him to panic, ‘n he disconnected himself too soon. Lights went out before I could do anything.’

paraphrased from this fic, showing that vincent can and will talk to johnny out loud whenever he wants:

‘What the fuck,’ Vincent blurted out, voice shaky as he took another step back. […] Johnny raised a hand and gestured vaguely at Vincent, and himself, and the space between them. ‘You don’t have to speak out loud when you- I feel like I’ve said this before.’

from an unreleased fic:

‘Maelstrom wasn’t too happy I was running off with their toys,’ Vincent answered, eyes lingering on the bruise on Vitali’s face. ‘Had to flatline half of ‘em before I could get out.’

from chapter 11 of the broker:

‘Peachy,’ Vincent said and gave him a thumbs up. His mantis blade was still deployed and he nearly cut himself with it.

from chapter 16 of the broker:

‘Right.’ He stepped back, visibly biting the inside of his cheek as his eyes wandered off into the rest of the living room and he did a mocking salute in Vitali’s direction. ‘Yessir.’

from chapter 2 of the broker:

‘Pleased to make your acquaintance?’ Vincent said, the sentence more a question than a statement, and he frowned slightly as he watched Dupoint walk around the desk and sit down opposite of him while unbuttoning the jacket of his slightly too big suit.

from an unreleased fic:

‘Yep, that was me,’ Vincent said in response, his voice suddenly a couple of octaves higher. Smooth talkin’, you fucking airhead. You sound like a damn high schooler.

from this fic, talking to johnny out loud again:

‘Right, ‘cuz apologizing means everything is instantly forgiven and forgotten,’ Vincent snapped, accidentally startling an old lady he passed by; he quickly raised his hand to her as an apology and fastened his pace.

from an unreleased fic:

‘Born ‘n raised in the Glen, yeah,’ Vincent answered, flinching when he noticed the edge of someone’s umbrella get dangerously close to his face. ‘Won’t find the nicest people there but at least they generally know they’re not the only gonk on the fucking road.’

from this fic:

‘Headache that comes and goes-’ Vincent paused and glared at Johnny. ‘- but yeah, peachy. And you’re right. Worrying doesn’t help anyone.’

from chapter 2 of the broker:

‘V has had a lot of things on his mind, as of late,’ Vincent dryly said. ‘Please do enlighten me.’

from this fic, talking to johnny out loud again:

‘Alright, speaking rights fucking revoked,’ Vincent cut him off, visibly startling Vitali who had just slightly leaned in to Vincent’s touch. ‘Piss off, Johnny. Jesus.’

from chapter 15 of the broker:

Grant Armitage. Some seemingly random Arasaka exec with “his greasy little fingers stuck right up Yorinobu’s golden ass”, as Vincent had described him a few days prior.

from chapter 2 of the broker:

‘A fully opened center.’ Dupoint paused, raised an eyebrow, and glanced back at Vincent. ‘Do you know what that move is called, V?’ Vincent shrugged, and swallowed his laughter. ‘Dunno. The American Nutcracker?’

[queenofhyruleee]

Link/Reader Story

I tried to write a one-shot today but got carried away and ended up with the first chapter of a short story. I've never posted on Tumblr before but hey, there's a first time for everything, right?

Summary: After being shrouded in Twilight and tormented by monsters for so long, Hyrule is finally recovering and returning to normal. And what's more normal than a shitty relationship? You're a potions-maker's apprentice who is dating someone who is... less than ideal. While you're struggling to navigate your deteriorating relationship and dwindling self-confidence, your good friend Link is determined to help you see that you deserve better.

The sun dipped lower in the sky, and as it fell so did your spirits. You sighed, dropping your chin into the palm of your hand. He probably wouldn’t show. 

Again. 

You decided that you were only going to wait for another ten minutes before calling it a night and going home. Frustration bubbled in your stomach, and as the minutes passed you found yourself fighting back tears of frustration. 

Why hadn’t he come? Why does he keep doing this? 

You had been romantically involved with Elis for the better part of a year. It had started off strong and sweet, with him dropping by the potions shop where you worked nearly daily with some sort of sweet treat or pastry. Eventually, those days came fewer and farther between, but you hadn’t thought much about it because it made sense that maybe the excitement of the new relationship was wearing down. You weren’t worried because he still treated you with kindness and was happy to spend the weekends wandering around Castle Town or down by the lake. But recently, it was as if you didn’t exist. He hardly made time for you anymore, and when he did he didn’t even show half the time, later claiming some issue or another had come up suddenly. 

Like he would probably do again after today. 

Through the tavern window, you watched as crowds strolled past, chatting animatedly and munching on various foods that were being sold in the different stalls that currently lined the roads of Castle Town. Today was the Autumn Festival - the first one since the strange monsters had been eradicated and Princess Zelda restored her rightful place on the throne. The entirety of Hyrule was celebrating not only the beginning of a new Autumn, but its freedom as well. 

Yet despite all of the happiness and celebration, you felt as lonely and dark as ever. 

Sighing again, you decided you had spent enough time looking pathetic alone at the table, looking up hopefully at the door anytime you heard it open. Standing up, you caught the attention of the barkeep, Telma. 

“Headed out?” She asked, a knowing look in her eye. You nodded as you walked up to the bar, digging around in your satchel to try and find your wallet. Telma reached across the bar, resting her hand in front of you and making you pause. “No need, hon. This one’s on the house.”

You looked up at her, eyes wide. “No Telma, I-” 

“I don’t want to hear it,” she said, waving her hand in the air. “It’s the Autumn Festival today, and everyone deserves to have something nice done for ‘em.” 

Your look of protest melted into one of gratefulness. You smiled at the older woman, feeling appreciative that at least someone cared enough to be kind to you today. 

“You know, speaking of which..” Her tone had changed to one a bit darker. She grabbed a dirty cup from the pile at her side and began to clean it with a rag she held in her other hand. “This is the third time in a month I’ve seen you sitting there all alone for a few hours, looking more anxious than a man whose girlfriend just told him she missed her monthly bleed. Wanna tell me anything about that?” Her eyes bore into yours, waiting for an answer you had a feeling she already knew. 

She was aware that you and Elis were together, and she expressed from the beginning that she wasn’t entirely happy about the fact. Telma was one of the first people you met when you moved to Castle Town from your family’s farm just outside of Kakiriko Village. She immediately took you under her wing and helped you adjust to and navigate the fast-paced life of the city. Even though you were there as a potions-makers apprentice which gave you housing and meals, she still insisted on doting on you and taking care of you as if you had nothing. And in a way, you had had nothing. You were forever grateful for her kindness, her hospitality, and her unwavering friendship. You knew that she cared about you more than maybe even your own family, so you absolutely hated the feeling of knowing you were disappointing her. 

Elis was the son of one of the richest businessmen in Castle Town, and maybe even Hyrule. And he… did not have the best reputation. You of course had no way of knowing that being new to the area and all but Telma, as the owner of the most popular bar in the city, was privy to all of the hot gossip and drama. And apparently his name was one that came up with the patrons of her bar. A lot. 

When you first caught Elis’ eye, and Telma started to catch on to what was happening, she had given you a warning. 

“Now I’m not your mother, so I’m not here to tell you what you can and can’t do, or who you can and can’t do. But honey.. I’d think twice before you get involved with him.” 

Of course you had thanked her for her concern and promised it wasn’t that serious, but now you were regretting not asking more questions. You had fallen in way too deep and before you realized it, you were telling yourself you were different from the other people he had been with. You would change him. Surely you wouldn’t be one of those bitter ex-lovers, drunkenly rambling on to anyone who would listen about how awful he was to you. 

Well, you hadn’t made it to the drunken rambling part quite yet, but you were certainly starting to catch on that maybe you wouldn’t be the one to change him after all. 

Telma continued to look at you expectantly, waiting for any kind of answer to her question. You averted your eyes, knowing you wouldn’t be able to lie if you had to look at her face. 

“No, everything is fine. I just have been feeling a bit suffocated at the shop lately. So I’ve been coming here to get some time alone.” Now that the lie was out, you met her eyes again and gave her a very non-convincing smile. 

Telma raised her eyebrows and gave you a very deadpan look to show you that she did not believe you in the slightest. You were certain that she was going to keep pressing for the truth, but much to your relief she instead just gave a resigned sigh and shook her head. 

“It’s just hard to watch you settle for this when we both know you don’t have to.” 

“It’s fine, really!” You tried to sound upbeat. “He’s just been super busy lately, and things keep coming up.” 

Telma rolled her eyes as she grabbed another cup and began to scrub. “‘Things keep coming up’ my ass,” she muttered. Then louder, “You actually believe him when he says that?” 

You bit your lip, knowing it wasn’t even worth the effort of trying to lie. So you remained silent instead, which was answer enough for your friend. 

“You deserve better than this, sweetie. You really do.” She cocked her eyebrows, and a small smirk suddenly replaced her annoyed grimace. “You know, you deserve something like a knight in shining armor. Someone who would treat you like royalty.” Her emphasis on certain words gave you the impression that she was trying to imply something, but whatever it was it went right over your head. She continued.

“Someone who is loyal, and kind, and would ride to the ends of Hyrule for you.” 

Now it was your turn to roll your eyes. “Yeah, okay Telma. Find me a man like that who would be interested in someone as plain as me and then we’ll go from there.” The sarcasm dripped from your voice, hiding the painful emotions that were beginning to stir again as you thought about how little Elis really seemed to care about you. Ride to the ends of Hyrule for you? He couldn’t even walk a kilometer away to meet you for dinner. And maybe that was all you could hope to get. 

Telma froze, giving you an incredulous look. She set down the items she was holding and put her hands on her hips, scoffing. “Now really?” 

You shrugged, dropping all efforts to hide your true emotions. “I’m a nobody who works as a potions-maker with nothing significant and no money to their name. Sure, a knight in shining armor sounds great and all, but someone like that would surely be sought after by all kinds of people with more to offer than me. And if they’re an actual knight then I know for a fact they’re one of the most desirable bachelors out there. I mean, take Link for example. He has women and men alike practically throwing themselves at him.”

Though you knew that comparing Link to a normal knight was hardly accurate. He was anything but normal. He was one of the members of the Royal Guard and recognized as a hero by the people of Hyrule. You weren’t sure you understood all of the details, but you did know that he had played a major role in expelling the monsters from the land and restoring peace to the kingdom. Once the major damage around the kingdom had been fixed and things began to settle back into a normal existence, Princess Zelda had held a large ceremony open to the public where he was officially made a member of the Royal Guard. You had laughed so much that day, knowing just how uncomfortable the guest of honor was with all of the attention. 

Aside from being a famous knight and hero, Link was someone you would consider a close friend - maybe even your best friend (of course you would never tell Telma). You had met him for the first time back when the monsters still roamed and he frequently paid visits to Telma and her tavern to speak with members of the Resistance. 

You had only heard stories about his bravery and heroism from your friend until the day she came crashing into the shop where you worked, speaking frantically about needing a health potion. She didn’t explain much, but you didn’t ask any questions either as you quickly got to work and provided her with what she needed. She promised she would explain more later and rushed out as soon as you had placed the bottle of red potion in her hand. You spent several hours after that as a ball of anxiety, creating the worst scenarios in your head about why she could possibly have needed the potion. 

It wasn’t until you were about ready to close the shop for the day and rush over to see her that the door had opened and in walked a face you had never seen before. The man certainly looked as if he had seen better days and was in desperate need of a nap, but regardless you were slightly taken aback by how handsome he still appeared. He was tall and lean, with broad shoulders and (you assumed) muscular arms that were hidden underneath a loose, white long-sleeved shirt. His hair was a beautiful dirty blonde, tied back with a simple leather band that left loose strands framing his strong jawline. His face had been rather pale, and dark circles sat beneath blue eyes that you suspected were dulled due to exhaustion. But despite his obviously not wonderful condition, he had still exuded a sense of strength that was almost intimidating. 

“Um, h-hello,” you stuttered. “I’m just about to close up-” 

“Are you the one that I have to thank for saving my life?” He asked, taking a step forward. You froze up, and then frantically looked around the shop, trying to find the other person he was obviously talking to, because there was no way he could have been talking about you. A warm chuckle brought your eyes back to his face, where his soft smile nearly made you breathless. 

“Are you the potions-maker?” 

 Mouth slightly open, you continued to stare. “U-uh yeah, that was me I guess.” 

He nodded and continued to walk further into the shop, closer to you. You noticed that he seemed to be walking with a slight limp. 

“Well, I just wanted to come here personally and give my thanks. Without that potion I’m not sure I would have the opportunity to be standing here now.” 

You were certain that the look on your face was ridiculous, but you had no idea how to respond to this situation. It was your job to make potions, you didn’t need any thanks for it. 

You wanted to say thanks, but instead when you opened your mouth you said, “Why are you standing here right now? If you needed that potion less than 12 hours ago, you should almost certainly still be in bed.” You gestured to his body, “And no offense or anything, but you really look like you should still be in bed.” 

His colorless cheeks turned a bit pink then, and he rubbed the back of his neck with his hand, almost shyly. “Well, Telma is a wonderful person and all but I was starting to feel a bit…” 

“Smothered?” You finished for him, stifling back the laugh that threatened to come out, knowing how your friend was. A look of relief washed over the stranger’s face and he nodded, seeming to realize that you understood how he was feeling. 

“Yeahhh,” you drawled out, nodding sympathetically. “I understand that all too well. I actually had to put a lock on my bedroom door the last time I had a small sickness to physically stop her from bringing me medicine and food every hour. I love her to death but I can only take so much soup in one day.” 

He laughed then, and you wondered how in the world a laugh could sound so nice. Pushing those thoughts aside, you introduced yourself then, holding your hand out to the man. He smiled and took it, his hand calloused from years of hard work but gentle nonetheless. 

“I’m Link.” 

A lightbulb went off in your head then. “Oh, you’re Link? I’ve heard so much about you!” 

“I could say the same about you.”

It was the start of a beautiful friendship from that point onward. Whenever Link was in town, whether he was restocking his supplies, working closely with other members of the Resistance, or doing whatever it is that heroes do, you always made sure to make time to see him. And he did the same. He probably became your number one customer, always putting in bulk orders for various potions. You always joked with him about how often he needed health potions, but truthfully you were very worried about him and how he was constantly out in harm’s way. It was a lot of work, filling his large orders, but you were happy to know that you were helping to keep him safe in some capacity.

“And you’ve never.. stopped to consider why Link never takes anyone up on their offers?” Telma asked, still staring at you with an incredulous look. You couldn’t understand why she was acting so strange all of the sudden. 

“Not really,” you shrugged. “I just assumed he’s too busy for it or that he does and nothing comes of it. He doesn’t talk to me much about his conquests, work-related or… otherwise.”

Telma shook her head. “No, honey, I don’t think he’s out there conquering anyone. He seems to have uh.. a specific goal in mind.” There it was again, that tone in her voice that made it seem like she was implying something that you just weren’t understanding. It nagged at you, but you chose to brush it off. Who knew what was going on in your friend’s mind. 

“Well, regardless. I just don’t think I’m the type of person someone like a knight is trying to settle down with. But who knows, maybe I’ll ask Link if any of his fellow knight friends are available and interested.” You laughed, the joke seeming ridiculous. But your friend, on the other, didn’t seem to find it so funny. She stood, her mouth slightly open as if she couldn’t believe what you were saying. 

“You’re joking, right?” 

Frustration was starting to build up within you, unable to understand what you were doing that was so hard to believe. Why was Telma treating you like you were an idiot today? You were slightly kidding when you ragged on yourself about not being good enough, but did your friend genuinely believe it so strongly that even a joke about asking a knight was too much? She was the one that started the whole thing in the first place! 

“Of course I’m joking Telma,” you snapped. “I know my place. Elis is probably the best I can hope to get.” 

Telma closed her mouth, pursing her lips with an unamused look. She shook her head slowly and turned around to organize the newly cleaned mugs and glasses. “It’s not my place to get involved,” she said quietly, more to herself than to you. Still feeling frustrated, you huffed loudly and turned to leave. First Elis, now Telma. This was not shaping up to be a good day. 

Before you could fully turn around though, she glanced back, stopping you with the serious expression on her face. “Really. You can do better. There is better out there. Waiting to love you the way that you deserve to be loved. You just need to open your eyes.” 

Your sour emotions were already set though, and you were in no mood for cryptic messages. “Alright, thank you fortune-teller Telma. I’ll see you later. Thanks again for the drink.” And without looking back, you walked to the door, opened it, and took a step into the darkening evening. 

The air was crisp and cooler than it had been since the spring, signifying the exit of summer and beginning of a chilly autumn. Very fitting weather for the night of the Autumn Festival. 

You crossed your arms tightly against your body as you walked, the thin shirt you chose to wear not doing a good job to protect you from the chill. You felt your temper cooling as you walked as well, gradually being replaced by a feeling of deep sadness and loneliness. All around you were people enjoying the festival, happy to be surrounded by those they love. Grandparents lovingly watching their grandkids laugh and play as they ran through the crowded streets playing tag, friends walking together and sharing stories that made them snort and grab their sides from laughing so hard, new couples attached at the hip and so engrossed in each other they hardly watched where they’re going… it was isolating. Here you were, recently stood up for the umpteenth time by someone who was supposed to care about you, walking through massive crowds of people and yet never feeling more alone.

You felt an all-to-familiar tightness in your throat, and the tears began to prick the corner of your eyes, blurring your surroundings into blobs of shimmering color. You fought hard to keep your composure, determined to make it back to the shop so you could run to your small bedroom upstairs and never come back out. But the loud voice in your head was determined to break you. 

Why? Why am I not good enough? Did I do something wrong? How can I be better?

The strong feeling of hopelessness that came with those though breached the dam you had built to hold back the tears, and with a loud sob, they started to spill. A few people within your vicinity turned to look at you curiously, likely wondering what could have caused the noise that came out of your mouth. You put your head down and covered your mouth with your hands, hoping to muffle the sound of the sobs that continued to come involuntarily. 

Luckily for you, there was a small alleyway directly to your left. You were able to shove past the poor innocent people who were in your way and beeline for the abandoned area. Once you were in the alley, you began to run, desperate to get as far away from people as possible. You weren’t able to make it very far though as a dead end blocked your escape. Incapable of thinking of any other alternatives, you resigned to this being your stopping point and slid down the wall until you were sitting with your arms wrapped around your knees, legs tucked as closely to your body as you could physically get them. Dropping your head down, let all of the feelings you had been holding in for the evening out. 

It was overwhelming yet cathartic. The force of your sobs wracked your body for what felt like hours, the thoughts of inadequacy and rejection running through your mind on an endless loop. But eventually, you found it easier and easier to take deep, measured breaths and the body shaking sobs gradually slowed to a halt. No longer did you feel… well, anything. The only thing you could feel now was numbness. A quiet calm to replace the raging storm that had been going on. 

You sat up, leaning your head against the wall behind you. You stared up at evening sky, the sun out of view as it dipped closer to the horizon. You’re not sure how long you sat there, relishing the feeling of feeling nothing at all. You knew you needed to get up, but you worried that once you stood the feelings would come rushing back. 

Your solitude was ruined by the loud crashing noise of a door being opened with extreme force close by. The sound startled you, making you nearly topple over with surprise. 

You heard a whiny, high-pitched voice over the thundering beat of your heart. “Come on, it’s about to start!! We’re not even going to get a good view at this point!” 

A few meters away, a young child came running out of the small apartment door that you hadn’t even realized was there. Had they heard your crying? 

“Leon, slow down. There will be plenty of space available. The procession goes all the way from the city gates up to the castle. Certainly not everyone will be crowded in the same area.” An older woman stepped out after the child, her smile conflicting with the stern tone in her voice. She didn’t even glance in your direction as she shut the door behind her and followed the child down the alley to join the festivities you had so desperately escaped. 

Ah yes, the procession. You had almost forgotten all about that. 

As a closing event of the Autumn Festival, the royal family traveled in procession through Castle Town, waving and acknowledging their loyal and loving subjects. It was not just them, however. The royal carriage was last in line in the procession. Preceding it were several (and in your opinion, more interesting) groups. Professional jugglers, wowing the crowds as they showed off the impressive skills they have while on the move. Bands of Gorons who marched in step, beating out different tunes powerfully on large drums. One year, when you were young, there was a fantastic group of Zora dancers who mesmerized the crowds with their movements, as smooth on land as they were in water. It changed from year to year, but since this was the first Autumn Festival celebration after years of being terrorized by monsters, it was sure to be a big one. 

You continued to sit, looking towards the crowd as it continued to grow, their excited voices bouncing off the walls of the empty alley. Normally, you would be one of them, jumping up and down with excited anticipation to see what that year’s procession has in store. But now you couldn’t imagine standing there, surrounded by happiness and laughter. 

The crowd roared as the first part of the procession finally appeared, slowly crawling through the street. You listened as people cheered for the performers who walked, “ooh”ing and “ahh”ing as they did whatever it was that they were doing. You couldn’t see through the crowd of people who now blocked off the entrance of the alley, so you could only listen and imagine, picking up bits and pieces of conversations as it drifted down to your ears. 

You didn’t need to be able to see when the Gorons arrived, however. That you could feel. The vibrations rattled your entire body as they beat their drums in sync, the unfamiliar tune sinking into your very bones. It was an oddly relaxing feeling. You were happy to close your eyes and rest your head on the wall, soaking in the feeling. You were left with an achingly empty feeling in your chest when the Gorons were far enough away that you could no longer feel their drums. 

You decided that even though you were tired, you would wait until the end to get up and begin making your way home. With the crowd the way that it was, there was no way you would make it anywhere anyways. So, you continued to sit. 

As you waited, your mind drifted to Elis. If he hadn’t come to meet you, then where was he? Was he just lounging lazily in his bed as he so often liked to do, unable to be bothered to come meet you? Or was he out there in the crowd, standing with his friends, cracking jokes without even sparing a single thought for you? 

Your heart dropped as another thought crossed your mind. Was he out there in the crowd with another girl? Had he spent the evening whisking someone else around to the different stalls, sharing all sorts of sweet treats with her? Feeding her fresh fruit as they walked? Whispering things in her ear, making her giggle and blush? Did he give her his jacket when she began to shiver because she was only wearing a light shirt? Was he going to take her home once the festivities ended? 

You could feel the emotions coming back, much to your displeasure. You didn’t want to feel anything. You liked the numbness. But the thought of Elis leaving you to look foolish while he was out entertaining another girl was too much to handle. 

You decided that you needed to get home. You couldn’t stand to be out any longer. You would shove people out of the way if you needed to. 

Standing up quickly, you made your way back to the entrance of the alley where the crowd was currently a wave of excitement. You began to push your way through, but you were only able to make it to the front of the crowd before you realized you were stuck. There was rope that stretched down the street as far as you could see on both sides of you. To block people from crossing the road and potentially getting hurt or messing up the procession, you assumed. 

Frustration bubbling and exiting your body in the form of hot tears that welled up in your eyes, you turned to push your way back. But once again, you quickly realized that wasn’t going to happen. A large Goron stood behind you, happily oblivious and chatting with another large Goron besides them. Considering you had to crane your neck to look up at their faces, you assumed that you would not be able to get their attention with all of the noise and distraction. Groaning inwardly you turned back and stood miserably, knowing that your only option now was to stand and wait for the procession to end. 

Luckily you didn’t have to wait long before you heard the sound of the horns, signifying the arrival of the royal carriage. Once again, the crowd around you came alive, everyone excitedly standing on their toes and moving around to try and get a look. 

The horses were the first thing to come into view. Beautiful white horses donning colorful, bedazzled bits and draped with navy and gold saddle blankets made their way past you. Children and adults alike stuck their hands out, reaching to try and get a touch of the magnificent creatures as they passed. You wanted to be excited, but the heavy feeling in your chest and tightness in your throat remained, and you knew it was only a matter of time before the tears began to spill again. You just hoped you could hold out until you were able to get away from people.

Something heavy suddenly pushed up against your right shoulder, nearly toppling you over. Luckily you were able to keep your footing and straighten yourself up before falling. Pushing the hair out of your eyes, you glared in the direction of the mysterious force. 

Two girls, probably just a few years younger than you, were standing there, staring at you with wide eyes. 

“So sorry!” One squeaked, genuinely looking scared. You held your glare for a few more seconds before turning your head back to the procession, not even bothering to accept her apology. Her and her friend did not seem bothered for too long, however, and began to chat animatedly. They were so close that you couldn’t help but overhear. 

“Do you think we’ll see him?”

“Of course we’re going to see him you idiot! He’s like, Princess Zelda’s shadow! Wherever she is, he is!”

Suddenly the conversation you were trying very hard to ignore grabbed your attention. You realized, with slight amusement, that you had a good idea as to who they were probably talking about.

“I mean, I don’t blame her for always wanting him around.” 

“Oh I totally agree. If I had a knight who looked like that, I’d never let him leave my side.”

The girls burst into giggles, and you rolled your eyes. But also, you knew you couldn’t blame them either. There was no denying that Link was very easy on the eyes. 

The girl closest to you sighed wistfully. “He just seems so dreamy. He’s brave, and strong, and he’s so kind! One time I saw him buy a whole basket of bread that he then passed out to the line of people who had been waiting for hours to see the doctor. This was when that horrible sickness came through Castle Town a few months ago and everyone was sick! He risked his own health to make sure people were fed while they waited.” 

You hadn’t heard about that, but you were not surprised in the least. Link was an absolutely selfless man who consistently put other people’s needs before his own. He had done it a time or two for you as well. One of those times was actually during the sickness that the two girls were referring to. 

You had managed to stay healthy for awhile, but you found yourself extremely overworked during that time, trying to keep up with the mass influx of orders of health potions and other remedies that came pouring in from desperate townspeople. You had averaged about an hour of sleep a night for days on end, and were lucky if you were able to eat a single meal. Luckily, Link had offered to help you with deliveries which took a massive load off of your plate. However, it still took a major toll on your body physically. Luckily, Link was there to save the day. You know, like heroes do. 

The bell dinged, signaling that someone had entered the store. You didn’t even bother to turn around, busy cutting and weighing the ingredients in front of you. It was a very precise recipe, and even the slightest miscalculation or mess up could change the effect of the potion entirely. 

“Hey, I’m back.” His calm and gentle voice was a welcome break from your frantic muttering out loud to yourself as you worked. You simply grunted and waved the hand holding the knife into the air to acknowledge his arrival. 

His laughter was followed by footsteps as he walked behind the counter, coming to a stop beside you. His presence seemed to bring you comfort, and you could feel yourself starting to relax slightly. “You know, waving a knife at a member of the Royal Guard could be seen as a threat. Be careful where you point that thing.” 

You rolled your eyes and finally turned your head to face him, your exhausted smile meeting his boyish grin. “At this point, there is nothing you could do to me that is worse than what I’ve been dealing with the past few weeks. Go ahead and lock me up or chop me up, either is preferable at this point.” 

His smile faltered, and you could see the concern in his eyes. Suddenly, he looked very serious. “Have you eaten today?” 

Sighing, you put down the knife and stepped away from the ingredients. You decided a short break wouldn’t hurt. Running a hand over your face, you tried your best to stifle a yawn. “What time is it?” 

“It’s a few hours past midday. Have you eaten?” He repeated, eyes boring into yours. You worried your bottom lip, nervous to tell him that you had not. 

“Well, Elis told me he would bring me lunch an hour before noon.” 

Link’s eyes hardened. “And did he?” 

You laughed timidly, shrugging. “I’m sure something came up and he was too busy.” 

The blonde did not look impressed in the slightest. “So, no.” 

You waved a hand nonchalantly. “It’s okay, I’m not super hungry anyways. Too busy to be hungry!” With fake enthusiasm, you made to turn back to your ingredients and continue working. Link’s hand gently touched your arm, stopping you from moving. 

“You need to take care of yourself. You need to eat.” The concern in his face made your heart skip a beat. 

You nodded finally, giving in. “I know, I will. I guess I won’t be any help to anyone if I die of starvation huh?” 

Link shook his head, his expression still very serious. “I’m not worried about other people. I’m worried about you.” 

You froze, your breath catching slightly in your throat. Your brain seemed to malfunction as you tried to figure out how to reply. But Link was suddenly distracted, rummaging around in the satchel that was slung across his body, a concentrated look on his face. Finally, he seemed to find what he was looking for and pulled out a small brown bag, which he then held out to you. You looked at it, then back up at him. He nudged it forward again, prompting you to take it. 

“Please.” 

You didn’t have any words as you gingerly took the bag from his hands. Slowly, you opened it and peered down at the contents. Bread, cheese, a few slices of dried meat, and a large red apple. You looked back up at your friend. 

“I can’t take your lunch from you!” You exclaimed, trying to push the bag back into his hands. He was having none of it though. He grabbed your hand with both of his. He gripped it gently but firmly, closing your fist over the opening of the bag and pushing it back towards you. 

“It’s not my lunch, don’t worry.” 

“Oh, so you just walk around with spare lunches in your bag?” Though when you really thought about it, he did always seem to have literally everything inside that bag..

Link looked away, suddenly seeming shy. “Well, no. I brought it. For you.” 

“For me?”  For what felt like the millionth time that day, your chest swelled with gratitude for the blonde. 

“You know.. just in case.” 

It was both charming and upsetting. It was extremely sweet that Link was concerned and thinking about you. But it made your heart sink to think that Elis, someone who claimed to love you, couldn’t even be bothered. You tried your hardest to fight back the tears as you nodded and accepted the meal. 

Link seemed to let out a breath of relief, smiling gently as he watched you pull the bread out and nibble on the edge. 

“Please promise me you will take better care of yourself.” 

You just nodded, your mouth full of bread. He narrowed his eyes and leaned down, his face just inches away from yours. You froze, suddenly feeling nervous at his proximity. 

“Promise.” 

His face was once again serious, but his eyes were soft. Caring. 

You swallowed the bread you had been chewing and nodded again, genuine this time. “I promise, Link.” 

He continued to stare, unmoving. “You promise what?”

You groaned, making a face. “Really?”

But his stoic expression told you that he was not joking. 

“I promise that I will take better care of myself,” you muttered, feeling like a child who was being scolded. He still didn’t move for a few moments, however, continuing to search your eyes with an unreadable expression. Finally, he stood up and nodded once. 

“Good. I expect to see you eating every day from here on out. On your own,” he added. “Not waiting for a meal that will never show.” 

The meaning behind his words cut deep, and once again you were reminded that the one person who was supposed to care about you didn’t seem to. 

But at least you had Link. 

 A loud squeal brought you back to the present, where you hadn’t even realized you zoned out. 

“Oh here it comes!”

And sure enough, the royal carriage came into view, pulled by two gigantic horses. What little sunlight remained reflected beautifully off of the gold exterior, the different jewels that decorated it sparkling magnificently. The fabric top was not in place, giving the crowd an unobstructed view of the figure standing inside. 

Princess Zelda was the vision of beauty and grace as she smiled and waved to the crowd. Her blonde hair was pulled out of her slim face and back into an intricate braid that was adorned with flowers that matched the white and lavender dress she was wearing.  A small but genuine and warm smile graced her lips, and her eyes were sharp and alert as she scanned her surroundings and took in the sight of her subjects. She exuded a sense of strength and unity, which was something the people of Hyrule had desperately needed for so long. 

Once again, your train of thought was broken by an obnoxious squeal. 

“There he is! I told you! I told you we’d see him!” The girl next you jumped up and down, not even realizing that she bumped into you every time she did so. Her friend was leaning heavily over the side of the rope, trying to get the best view possible. You held your breath, feeling anxious all of the sudden for a reason you didn’t understand. 

His hair was the first thing you spotted, the navy cap contrasting heavily with the blonde locks that weren’t quite as well tamed as the rest of him. The pristine white trousers and navy and crimson tunic hugged his athletic figure generously, showcases the strength he had built over years of hard work and fighting. His sword was strapped to his back, ready to be pulled at a moment’s notice if needed. But what you noticed most about the knight was the way that he carried himself as he marched alongside the carriage. 

He held his chin high, shrouded with an air of confidence well earned from countless successful battles. Despite his tall and muscular frame, he was endlessly graceful, almost gliding along the ground. His bright blue eyes were alert and sharp, and he scanned the crowd continuously, making sure there were no imminent threats to the princess or otherwise. 

Your breath caught in your throat as you watched him, suddenly finding yourself enamored with everything about him. Telma’s words from earlier came back to you as you continued to stare. 

A knight in shining armor. 

There was a phrase to describe Link if there ever was one. From his strength, to his courage, to his generosity, to his kindness. He was the embodiment of a true knight. 

Suddenly, you found yourself once again reliving the memory of the two of you in your shop, concern etched into his face as he stared down at you. 

“Please promise me you will take better care of yourself.” 

“I’m not worried about other people. I’m worried about you.”

An intense feeling of loneliness and longing washed over you, making it harder for you to breathe. You bit down on your lip as you fought to hold back the tears that suddenly welled up in your eyes. 

Whoever Link chooses will be the luckiest person in all of Hyrule. To have someone who cares so openly, someone with such a good heart.. Not someone who would continuously abandon plans and give half-hearted excuses for why he can’t come. 

But what you had told Telma was true. You were a nobody with no money to your name. You had nothing to offer anyone. Elis was rich and had status. For someone like him to be with someone like you was almost unheard of. It would be silly to get caught up on something as silly as feelings when you were being given more than what you deserved. 

It still hurt though. And the tears still came, spilling over and sliding down your cheeks. 

“He’s getting closer! Oh my goddesses, he’s almost right in front of us!!” The girl next to you grabbed her friend, shaking her with excitement. You watched from the corner of your eye as they quickly rushed to fix their hair and straighten out their dresses that had been ruffled in all the commotion. 

You found yourself annoyed at their behavior, but appreciated the heads up. With you being in the front, there was a very good chance that Link would see you. And he couldn’t see you crying. You turned away, trying to hide your face as you wiped frantically at the tears. But it seemed like the more you tried, the more the tears came. You began to panic, which only added to the strong emotions that you were feeling and made everything worse. 

You turned back around, planning to just sneak a quick peek to see how much time you had before he walked by. If he was too close, you planned to just turn around and stay turned around until he was well past you. Sure it would look funny, but he wouldn’t know that that was the back of your head in the crowd. 

But unfortunately, just like it had been for the entire day, luck was not on your side. As soon as you turned around, piercing blue eyes met your red and watery ones. 

You immediately straightened up, wiping frantically at your face and trying to plaster on a smile that was horribly unconvincing. Link’s eyes widened as he took in your appearance, and you could see that he was visibly struggling to keep his facial features calm.

“Annessa, he’s looking at you! I can’t believe it, he’s looking at you!!!”

The girl’s voices sounded far away as she screeched at the girl next to you, whose name was apparently Annessa. The only thing you could focus on was Link and the pained expression he worse on his face as he fought against whatever emotions he was currently feeling. 

Once again you tried to give him an unconvincing smile, but it was the ultimate failure as your lips quivered and you had to put your hand over your mouth to hide the sob that came out. 

Did he know? Did he know how pathetic you were? How you weren’t even worth your own partner’s time? Surely he had to know that, as someone who was one of the most popular men in the entire kingdom. He was only nice to you because that’s who he was. He was a nice person. 

You maintained eye contact with him for as long as you could, but eventually you had to turn away, embarrassed by your emotions and how unstable you appeared. When you brought your head back up, Link was no longer looking at you. He looked forward as he continued to march on. 

Exactly. He knew that you weren’t worth it. That you were an embarrassment. 

But what you weren’t expecting was for him to turn his head, glancing back over his shoulder to get one last look at you. You weakly waved, and he frowned before turning back around and continuing to look forward. 

“Did you see that?? He even looked back at you!! You made the Link do a double take!!!” 

The girls next to you jumped up and down in excitement, squealing on and on about Link and something about marriage and children. You weren’t sure because you tuned them out. You tuned everything out. That feeling of numbness returned, which you were grateful for, and you spent the rest of the procession staring at the ground, blissfully unaware of anything happening around you. 

Eventually the procession had ended and the crowd began to clear, excitement still in the air as the chatted about the day’s events to each other and made their way home or to the bars. It was nighttime now, so the party would likely continue for most of the adults, whether that was in the tavern or at private parties around the city. 

For you, you were just happy that you could finally make your way home. You did not want to party, you did not want to socialize. You wanted to crawl into your bed and never get out. You wanted to physically become one with the pillows. 

As you approached the shop, you had a stupid hope in your heart that maybe Elis would be there waiting for you. That he had come late to the bar to meet you, and when he couldn’t find you in the crowd he decided to wait for you at your shop. But, of course, you were met with disappointment and darkness when you arrived home. Nobody was waiting for you at the door, and there were no explanations about why he never showed. 

You entered the shop and barely remembered to lock the door behind you before dragging yourself upstairs to your bedroom. Master Shido was out of town, traveling to who-knows-where for some rare ingredients, so you did not have to worry about the noise you made as you collapsed on to your bed. 

Today was awful, and you wanted absolutely nothing more than for it to be over. You lay in the dark, staring up at the ceiling, but sleep never came. Instead, your mind whirled continuously about Elis. 

What was he doing at the moment? Was he with another woman? Did he even feel any remorse for standing you up? How would you confront him? Should you even confront him? What would you say if- 

Thud. 

Your froze, your racing thoughts stopped by a loud, muffled noise downstairs. You held your breath as you waited, in the silence and in the darkness, for more noise to come. But it never did. 

You were starting to believe you had simply imagined it when it came again.

Thud. Thud. Thud. 

Someone was knocking on the front door of the store.

[kaininja2]

Travelling experience in a 6 and a half hour flight.. with 2 of us who don't like plane restrooms. (If the response on this is good I'll give more detailed things if they happen xD)

We both had drinks before our flight—she had coffee, and I had a strawberry lemonade about 1.5 hours before departure. Used the restroom, found a place to sit and waited for the boarding process. As we boarded, I felt the urge to use the restroom but decided to wait until we were on the plane.

I'm already feeling it. I have to go soon. I brush it off, I'll just get on the plane and use the restroom when she says she needs to go too (which is usually the case).

My bladder feels heavy as soon as I sit in the middle of the four seats on the plane, surrounded by two people occupying the aisle seats. The day the belt was set up tight, I could physically sense it pressing against my bladder as I put it around my waist. It takes a long time to board, and as we take off, I finally fall asleep.

When I wake up, my bladder is definitely letting me know I need to pee. I lightly press my bladder— it is full. I am wondering how the coffee hasn't made her pee yet, but she seems at ease. She keeps drinking water.. I cross my legs and decline her offer of water.

It had only been 45 minutes, but all I could think about was how strong the urge was growing. As I listen to music, my main concern is when she asks me whether we should get up to use the restroom.

I begin repositioning myself on the seat in an attempt to reduce discomfort. I remove my belt. I never do that typically. I have to go soon. I consider asking to use the restroom, but then I decide to give her some time to relax. I'll wait another hour before asking.

Time goes by, and I don't ask. Time seems to be moving more slowly than before as I sit there with my legs together, trembling, trying to ignore the urge. Food comes and goes. I gently rub my palm over my lower abdomen. If I were at home, this would feel like a dream. I try to watch movies, but all I can think about is what might happen if I get up and pee myself. I get turned on and begin to think NSFW things.

I place my arms on my bladder.. it already had a blunt ache now its being pressed even more.. the tray table comes down and i have limited space to move.. as she sleeps i moan in desperation. Throughout the flight just continuously exhaling sharply and letting out soft moans.

As the flight nears its landing, I'm shifting my weight since my abdomen feels sore significantly. Suddenly, she says, "The moment we land, we need to look for the restroom. I desperately have to go." I agree, and those comments make me feel turned on. When we land I'm pushing her out of the aisle so we can go.

We notice a restroom as soon as we arrive, but there is a problem with arrivals, and our connecting gate is across the airport via a bus journey. She fortunately states, "Let's go to the toilet; I need to relieve myself so bad it's coming out. It's begun to come out a bit," while I'm attempting to be calm. Don't turn me on just yet, Mnh.

It's uncommon that I've seen both of us look so relieved after using the restroom.

I can still clearly recall my thoughts. I'll attempt to record them.

I need to go to the restroom. Why won't she get up? There is no way that the coffee hasn't filled her bladder completely. (I lightly strike the side of her stomach.) She just sleeps and watches shows..how... This is the actual test for your bladder, and it feels so amazing. God, it's about to come out. Ahhh, if I don't go soon. Of course, I'm switched on throughout the flight, but I would love to do this at home. *Put ideas of omo.. nsfw.. scenarios in my head*.. *Desperate panicking*

Just really wanted to share this with someone.. I've got more stories.. I even remember those switched on thoughts... I can post em depends

[jackals-ships]

JACKAL I must apologize I was like I WILL GO CHECK F/O LIST because I am not 100% sure which bot you ship with (<- did not care about robots until suddenly I cared A LOT) though I thiiink it's Megatron bUT sorry if I'm wrong fkdjashkj BUT BEARING IN MIND I HAVEN'T FINISHED S1...I WOULD LIKE TO HEAR ABOUT YOUR SHIP(S) 👀 and perhaps read fic at some point if you are able to find it @goldenworldsabound

(<- did not care about robots until suddenly I cared A LOT) IS AN ENTIRE MOOD THO HFKF tfp is like some sleeper cell activation code i SWEAR,,, + ur all good !! i gotta fiddle w my f/o list a lil and then repost it bc i kept meaning to make minor changes an then forgor,

BUT ANYWAYS YES !!! he's also, hilariously, one of the f/os i have a physical lil guy of despite being not on my radar as long as like garrus hf

also a read more bc i woke up Rambly today <3

he gets to sit with the ponies :} bc he canonically likes mlp at least according to the lil ask Megatron bit + there was a whole comics crossover (2 I think actually?)

breakdown + knockout are also My Besties they started out as like kinda baby crushes <- local aro can't tell the difference between Feelings even in fiction more at 11 [lighthearted] before megs came for my braincell with the fuckin. steel chair HFJ so seeing you go 👀🥰 at knocks i was like FUCK YEAH LETS GOO !!! im dropping into his work station from the ships vents like oooo someone's got a cruuuuush ooooo you wanna be all (⁠ʃ⁠ƪ⁠＾⁠3⁠＾⁠）don't u knocks- (jackal is once again banned from the nemesis)

okay okay but; i rlly only have one fic Finished and luckily had the foresight to post it to AO3. it's a lil older so not totally in character + canon but still silly and cute hjfkd

NOW GETTING INTO MY RED STRING TERRITORY-

when i get into something with a lot of continuities i tend to kinda? squish em together? or take bits and pieces going >:3 my city now, so the jackal x megatron ship is Primarily TFP but ive also absconded with fun movie details (like megs being i think it was 30? 40 ft tall? Fuck Huge,,,,) and also bits of comics lore/designs (holomatter is an interesting concept and im chewing on Meg's as we speak. gnawing on his arm even-)

but regardless this ship is totally my Slice Of Life Comedy Hour Chill LoFi Beats type of ship HKF like im a sucker for darker stuff higher stakes but i think this one has 0 stakes

like. like jackal and megatron literally met because jackal enjoys long walks on the beach exploring places Away from the city and Generally Away From Ppl to just sorta vibe. and ofc the normal thing to do when coming across a Definitely Alien And If Not Alien Then Like Secret Government Ship is to walk away. NOT wander ur happy lil ass inside like :0 yooooo what do These buttons do

and then when you get kicked out instead of getting squished like the bug you shouldn't come back via the air vents. again. and again and again and AGAIN and AG- until the local alien warlord gives in and is like "yeah okay this is my life now ig???" (soundwave was totally helping them btw. he likes drama 😌 and also has his own human hi adri so he can't say shit-) (also I've never decided on the Actual number of times they break it, in my brain it keeps slowly going up jus bc I find the concept SO funny. pov you're an alien warlord worried you got alien rodents and oh no NVM it's the human again. FUCK-)

it's absolutely the slowest burn too bc Meg's Refuses to admit that he has a crush on the weird squishy thing that keeps breaking in (until he's decided they're dating. and doesn't bother mentioning this) while jackals just 🥰 hehehoho big robot friend who calls me scraplet and sweetspark and sometimes puppy 🥰🥰🥰 also threatened to kill any mech who was mean to me 🤔🤔 weird. aaanyways

THERE'S ALSO a running joke in my head of that "what do you have?" "A KNIFE" "NO-" but it's jackal running off with energon bc you can't SHOW ME a cool liquid and have me NOT want to drink it !! Just a sippy. jus a lil- we'll have the hospital on speed dial pleeeeaaaase-😭

anyways tldr jackal megatron is "I'm not trapped with him he's trapped with me yaaaay :D" and "robot google; weird fuzzy feeling in spark?? how to remove weird fuzzy feeling?? robot google human exterminator near me-"

[realcatalina]

Troubling portrait of Maria of Aragon

Not everything is that well with this portrait and I am not going to pretend otherwise. I marked it for you what is wrong:

(Pink-suspicious, orange-original outlines, red-altered, dark red-physically impossible for those layers to exist simultanously!)

This is crazy! What the hell is going on?! ...Let's find out.

I hope this will fit single post(tumblr has limits regarding amount of pictures you can post.)

Now, about the painting.The amount of alterations I can spot, is disturbing.

The headwear is mixture of netherlandish subtype of french hood, and english gable hood, as if somebody put them together:

(my photoshoping skills are not good enough to make them 100% accurate, but you get the idea...)

Yes, in France and I think also in Netherlands you can find some examples of frontlets on french hood-in cca 1480s and early 1490s. Afterwards...nope. And this one...has the bejewelled part surounding face typical for english gable hood ...and I've never seen it in historical examples of these combining.

And in closeup it's obvious the layers cannot even physically fit together...Literally impossible.

Because these frontlets have black base upon which decorative part sits...and it's obvious the fronlet is supposed to go ABOVE the veil french hood..., so french hood should go UNDER it...but the pattern on french hood goes ABOVE the base of frontlet. It's literally impossible for that to happen simultanously.

One or both have to be altered. But which? Idk!

Futhermore there is dark shadow behind the current edge of veil, which indicates the outer edge of veil was moved, making it more narrow.

But if it was wider it'd be consistent with both netherlandish subtype of french hood and english gable hood:

Neither was that flat at the back. And neither would be worn by Maria. Furthermore, the netherlandish headwear is of style of copies based upon her sister Joanna's headwear. It's not historically accurate style. The gable hood...well, in form which we see now, it is also not historically accurate. Yet at same timethere is bigger level of realism than I'd expect if it was completely made up.

Hence I started to suspect that actual portrait was inspiration for this peace.

If we look at the portrait further we can tell that outer edge of dress was also moved, making shoulders more narrow and more femine, and one shoulder has no ermine, hence likely ermine area was extended.

Imo the high of neckline is also altered, I am highly suspicious of it...because even in England and Netherlands it was not worn so high, in Iberia absolutely not! This neckline would only make sense in very cold countries. In Scandinavia, Moscowy etc.

But there are more things I am suspicious about.

Little detail on veil of french hood(occasionally hapens, but not much in 16th century)...anyway it is probably just minor decorative add-on. But this part of cloth of gold looks photoshopped:

These bits, the way pattern is similiar...nearly identical, looks photoshopped:

In program which I use(photopea)...there is tool which allows you to copy the pattern and move it around ...and then you can create things like this. You'd need to just play with it bit afterwards, to blend it in...and in one spot it's not even done.

This is very disturbing for me. Especially given what wikipedia says about the painting.

Date of creation is XXI meaning 21. Like 21st century? Is it just modern creation made in computer?

... I created one such fake for April fools post... and I too deliberately played with shadows to make it look like it was altered...

I cannot rule this possibility, but it could also be case of bad photo, or bad printing. Because the wikipedia also says that source of image is a book called Infantas de Espanha, Rainhas em Portugal:

So could it be that there was so problem in printing process? Or something went wrong with photo?

Or...that the portrait itself is real...but it had some ugly paint loss and they decided to fix it in photoshopp to make it more pleasing to look at the book?

All of these are possible.

Additoonally, the arm on right(from our POV) seems to be moved in such position as if away from the painting...which could indicate it was originally larger.

And while the ribbon being held is not that impossible, fact that it goes over the ledge suggest it is not an accurate detai, but alteration.

More details I am suspicious about are all in same area around the 2nd hand.

These decorative round things...if they are supposed to be pearls...they look nothing like the one on headwear, yet if we mark their positions, they look as if trying to copy that pattern:

Furthermore the shadows are bit off in this area. There are parts which are lighter in colour...which could be if originally there was ermine edge to the dress...which was overpainted. Unfortunately I can't tell from these what shape exactly it'd have...

So after seeing all of this...what is my opinion on this?

I cannot confirm the portrait is real. But...I don't think anybody would be able to create this in photoshop without having something real to work with. I think there is portrait like this...and the level of alterations...the oddities...suggest it has been altered a while ago.

I cannot rule out photoshopped was used in part of it, but I think rest exist in real.

Does it mean it is accurate or that it is Maria? ...No, and given the level of alterations, it's not likely the head was spared...

On occasion though it happens. For example portrait of Infanta Isabella Clara Eugenia, Archduchess of Austria(b.1566)

who is supposed to wear the Franciscan habit of a Poor Clare(like on left), but in portrait (on right) somebody added lady Margaret Beaufort's headwear(probably) and changed some other details too.

Could it be the case of Maria's portrait too?

Well...in theory yes. Somebody could add english and netherlandish headwear to her portrait.

Could altered possibly heck out of the dress too, thus removing Iberian fashion from Iberian portrait.

Could photoshop it(possibly.)

... Or perhaps somebody created new portrait based upon Maria's portrait and Joanna's and Elizabeth of York's? (Puzzle of 3.)

Or some other option.

The face, the coat of arm, text and M on book could have been added to make it clearer that it is Maria...or could have been used to make it Maria. WE SIMPLY DO NOT KNOW!

...BUT we cannot play ostrich...and pretend that everything is fine with this portrait. Because it is not.

And if we remove all things which are weird, what is left of this portrait? A hand?!

(I didn't know how far ermine extended, so i left it like this)

...Hold on...

You've got to be kidding me. I recognize it. I recognize the hand!

...Well, not this hand but the style of the hand...the way the fingers are drawn/painted.

No way...no it can't be...Let me check.

...Maybe it could be. I have speculated there was one...and it'd make perfect sense. Wide shoulders, hand across chest, cloth of gold with ermine...the reddish girdle...

the ledge...the round top. ...I should have seen it front first glance!

The only real problem is that is facing the wrong way! It's flipped from the normal position.

But if you flip it back it's obvious. It's same outfit as in Whitehall Mural:

Even the reddish/pinkish girtle!

The the other hand is of Henry VII, in drawing which I speculated could have been by Wewyck's workshop(although it is not confirmed):

And I have also said it's likely there was once Elizabeth's portrait which matched his. With one hand across chest and the other extended downwards bit to the side!

This could be altered portrait of Elizabeth of York...with yes, some major alterations...but it's not the most common image of hers...it looks to be based upon rare image of her, of which we have no copies or no good copies of...

Yes it is facing wrong way...but it's not 100% rule.

Which could mean...that we're looking at altered original.

Which tbh if we consider it could be Elizabeth, wouldn't need to be even altered that much(and I didn't need to remove that much), and majority of the changes would be done to hide her thicker neck and wider shoulders.

...You know I have been suspecting certain spanish artworks to be based upon English royal portraits...but I thought...how would they get hands on it...well maybe Henry VII and catholic monarchs were exchanging portraits of their family members...

And if so...there might be more english portraits waiting to rediscovered on iberian peninsula...

But I could of course be wrong...but none of this points really to Iberian peninsula. It's too toward N-W fashion.

What do you think? Am I correct or am I chasing shadows?