#kind of neat to think about since her first name is rose Which Is A Plant | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

gb-patch · 4 years ago

Text

Ask Answers: April 13th, 2021

And we’re back again with more replies so soon, haha. Thank you for the asks!

Your game literally saved me this hell ass year. Thank you so much for the most perfect piece of art I've ever laid eyes on 😫 ... Do you guys have a rough idea when step 3 DLC will be released? I hope I'm not coming off as rude. I just really really love your game.

I’m sorry for the late reply on this! You might’ve already seen the answer by now, but the Step 3 DLC is coming out on the 16th. We’re almost there :D

This may be a silly question but did Jeremy's parents ever find out that Pran had lied about his age and if so, when/how? :3

Pran came clean to them after a couple of years, when he felt secure enough that it wouldn’t ruin the relationship. The Kings were a little embarrassed, the dad more than the mom, but they’re quite good at brushing past those kind of mistakes so it was all water under the bridge pretty fast.

hi! i know you’ve answered a question about alterations in the our life moments by playing them in different orders, but i was wondering if there was a canon order that the moments for each step happen in? i figure with such a customizable game the “canon” timeline for the moments is whatever order the player completes them in, for example in step 1, i like playing the runaway moment pretty early, since cove trying to run away early in summer makes more sense to me personally. thanks!

Yeah, there’s no canon order we’d insist on. Whatever you like can be the official route for you! And that’s a neat way to look at that event.

What if your character isn’t that into physical contact but still wants to be in a relationship with Cove? Would he be offended if you shy away or something along those lines?

He wouldn’t be. Cove knows how hard that can be and is very understanding. If you set his initiative to low, the game always checks to make sure if you want to be touched or not rather than assuming that you do. And if you do choose that you don’t want to, there’s no stress or drama about it. Cove will just say that’s okay!

Hellu! First off, I want to thank you all for such a wonderful game, it's been the best feel-good game I've ever stumbled upon and I can't express enough how much it has meant to me. Second, I've seen lots of people having trouble with making Cove confess before MC which makes me wonder if people will have the same problem in the dlc when you can propose to him. Is it possible to post a guide for that as well when it no longer could count as a spoiler? Again, thanks for such a beautiful game <3

I’m really happy you had such a nice time with it c:. We’ll answer questions about it on tumblr/in the discord if they come up and, if need be, we’ll find somewhere to upload a guide.

Do we get steam key from buying dlc on itch io?

I’m afraid not. That’d be unfair to those who get it on Steam. Plus, Steam isn’t super cool with giving out thousands of keys to be handed out for free on other sites anymore. They can refuse to give us the keys if they feel we’re trying to take advantage of their system.

hi! so if we reject cove's confession in step 3, can we still have MC and cove get together in step 4?

You can confess to him, yeah. But Cove won’t ever try confessing again if the MC turns him down in Step 3.

What if MC acts like someone Cove doesn't like, like Lizzie or Baxter lol

You can’t do what Lizzie or Baxter does to make Cove dislike them. You can play the game and try, but it doesn’t work out. The MC is just too compatible with Cove if you’re fond/crush/love, haha.

Hi! I absolutely love your game, I love the characters they’re all so amazing, thank you for the game haha

I was wondering if you would get the NSFW DLC no matter what Patreon level you were at, or if you would could get it at any level? :)

What pateron tier do we need to get the 18+ content for Our Life? It's my new favourite game, keep up the good work!

It will eventually be available at the $5 tier and anything above that! Glad you both like OL ^^

On a scale from 1 (being the worst) to 10, how well do the XOXO jerk squad including JB handle horror?

JB: 8

Everett: 5

Nate: 4

Shiloh: 10

Bae: 10

Jeremy: 8 for non-gore horror, 2 for gory horror

Pran: 9

hello!! i was wondering if any of the boys from the Jerksquad would ever wear a skirt/dress?

None of them wear skirts/dresses out of personal preference. But if there was some kind of reason where they had to do it, none would be that bothered.

How does the jerk squad feel about Christmas?

Everett: He fucking loves it. That’s the best time of year.

Nate: Commercialized nonsense.

Shiloh: It’s wonderful! So he claims.

Bae: He likes it quite a bit, but only for the joy it brings children/family. He thinks that’s sweet but is too mature to be whipped up into a festive fervor himself.

Jeremy: It’s awful.

Pran: He hates it.

does cove have any pet allergies? yes I know this is a little weirdly specific

He doesn’t! The lucky boy isn’t allergic to any animal.

Very important question: Would Lee and a musical-theatre loving MC run around belting Into The Unknown from Frozen 2? Because I feel that they would

Probably, haha.

This might seem like a dumb question, so I’m sorry, but with the Derek DLC are we gonna get to hang out with him in person instead of just calling him in step 3?

The Derek DLC adds events in Step 2 and Step 4. It’s part of his story that you don’t really get to be around him in Step 3. But you don’t need to apologize for wondering!

hello! i'd like to ask if it's possible to play the android version of the game with the dlcs after buying the dlcs from steam. i wasn't expecting my android version to have my dlcs since i bought them from steam, but it had my step 2 dlc for some reason. is this a glitch or does the apk actually detect what dlcs you already have on your pc? if so, how come i don't have the step 1 dlc appearing on android? thanks!

That is some kind of glitch. It isn’t possible for the Android DLCs to be unlocked by having them on PC. Maybe in one of the old builds we accidentally didn’t lock the Step 2 DLC properly. Sorry for the confusion!

Does Derek and Baxter have canon sexualities? Will Derek still flirts with the MC regardless of their gender?

They’re both pansexual and can like the MC regardless of what gender they have.

I was wondering if Miranda had a crush on Cove in Step 3? I'm not sure why, but I got those vibes from her?

She thinks of him only as a friend. Cove isn’t her type, haha.

This is probably a dumb hope, but I hope Cliff find someone he loves after Cove is grown up and everything. Or at the very least he has someone he's very close with after Cove leaves.

That’s a really sweet thought to have. Cliff stays single, but he’s graysexual and not-particularly romantically inclined. He only dated when he was really young ‘cause that’s what everyone did. Family and friend relationships are more important to him, and he has plenty of that in his life ^^.

Heya! I was curious if there might be a nickname system in N&F? I kind of pull an Elizabeth when I play and choose a different variation of a name like having Rosie in step one and changing it to Rose in step two, then maybe Rosetta in step three for example, but it also feels a little bit odd being scolded using my nickname hehe. That's all I was wondering about, thank you for your time and the wonderful games!

We are hoping to include the option to go by a nickname in Our Life: Now & Forever. But nothing has been programmed yet, so we can’t 100% guarantee it, haha.

Just curious, what would Liz's and Cove's relationship be if MC wasn't around? I feel like they wouldn't get along as well as they do now, especially during the first and second step

They’d definitely have a lot of friction growing up and they’d likely avoid each other as much as possible. Once they were both older, I imagine they’d be decent neighbor acquaintances. But they still wouldn’t be nearly as close as they are with the MC bringing Cove into things.

What do the customizable eyes look like in the game? Do they look as they are in the creating avatar section? Or do they look different when actually playing the game?

That’s up to you! The doll is just meant to be a general idea. You can apply it to your imagined MC as much or as little as you prefer.

Did Cove go through a "phase" during his adolescence? I don't really wanna headcanon it so I wonder if there's anything (cringy) canon since we missed out on the ages of 14-17 hahaha

Not really, aha. 14-17 Cove is pretty recognizable to his 13 and 18 year old self.

Hello! I'm sorry to bother you, especially with all the messages you get. I was just wondering if the religious wedding venue was exclusive to a church or if there will be different religions of weddings? Also, I love this VN so much, it's so well written and every character is so amazing, thank you for making such a beautiful game.

The church is treated as a historic building rather than anything actively religious, but it’s not the only option like that. There’s a historic synagogue and stuff too! And that’s really nice of you to say <3.

How differently would it play out If MC told their moms about the 20$ deal back when it happened?

They wouldn’t have been happy and would’ve been far more skeptical of Cliff, aha. But they wouldn’t want to keep Cove away from the MC, so it wouldn’t have been too different in the long run.

Hello may I ask what Cove's favorite fudge/ice cream flavor would be? Its alright if its not answered

He appreciates them all, but his top favorites would be the fruit flavored ones and the ones with nuts.

Hi! I really wanted to make mc's house in a game and tried really hard to figure out the floor plan, but I wondered if you have the floor plan of the mc's house so that i can try again with more accuracy?

Thank you a lot for this game, i loved it a lot! (my first play took me 8 hours lol)

I’m really sorry, we don’t have anything like that. But at least you can headcanon that what you did is correct and nothing can prove it wrong, haha.

Hello,I recently started playing lake of voices (I put it off for a long while since I’m usually not very good with horror) and I’m really happy I did!I’m a big fan of your games in general and lake of voices was absolutely great as well.I loved the characters and the dark setting of it,I adored the beautiful art and music and the story was great too,sometimes unsettling and sometimes very sweet.My favorite Route in the game was definitely Lu,I liked his character and was really shocked and distraught by his Route at least two times.I didn’t see the plot twist(s) coming at all!

Besides these ramblings I’ve also wanted to ask if you still remember how to get the lower two CGs on page 5?I seem to always miss them and would appreciate any help.Anyways I hope I wasn’t too much of a bother and I wish the devs a great day!:)

Thank you for all the kind words <3. You get those DLCs by going through the end of the Guide’s character path. You can use the guides on Steam to help you find it/reach the end!

—– —– —– —–

Thank you again for all of these questions :D

We released a new FAQ! It answers common questions and we’ll keep adding more to it. Please check there before sending an ask. FAQ Also, if you prefer to just see the main posts without all the asks/reblogs, feel free to follow our side account instead: GB Patch Updates Blog

#our life #xoxo droplets #lake of voices #ask #Our Life Beginnings & Always #ourlifeba #gb patch #gb patch games

187 notes · View notes

dimonds456 · 4 years ago

Text

Gem Steven’s gem is flipped upside-down. (Theory/Speculation time!)

SPOILERS FOR @spudinacup’s SU AU “Gone Wrong”!

Also WARNING: long post!

So recently, someone pointed out that Steven has a scar on his torso going across his gem’s location, which I found interesting in and of itself. Makes sense, since he wasn’t able to heal it since he DIED and his gem was shoved out of his body before it got the chance to heal him. That slash mark is there now. Wow, neat! Nice detai-

Wait.

Hold on a sec.

Is his gem... flipped upside-down? Well, it’s been like this for a while, maybe it’s just a creative choi-

...oh.

This is VERY intentional.

So I did some digging, and found much more symbolism and possible foreshadowing, and now I want to throw out my theory about Gem Steven here, including his potential arc and character development. I’ll try to keep everything brief while still blowing your minds, and I’ll try to get across what my jumbled mind has come up with.

Spud please notice me.

I will not be uploading photos to go with everything I say (go reread the comic after this and verify for yourself what all I’ve said), but I’ll show visuals when they’re necessary. I do not claim ANY of this art as mine (I wish my art was this good ;u; ), all of it belongs to Spudinacup and their SU AU, which has all kinds of hidden symbolism, foreshadowing, and visual cues we haven’t picked up on yet, as I’ve just learned while researching this theory. This ain’t your run-of-the-mill AU, everything in here is intentional. Scott Spud doesn’t do coincidences. So I’ll point out that stuff in screenshots.

Okay let’s go.

SO! To begin with, let’s talk about why his gem may have flipped, and to realize that, we have to know when. We don’t see the gem much, but we do see it constantly through Chapter 1, where it is normal. The pentagon is pointed upward. However, in Chapter 2, this is where we see it flipped upside down. When did that happen? We didn’t see it. I believe it happened in that first scene in the bathroom, right after we left. The butterflies were swarming angrily, and Steven was very lost in thought.

Notice whenever those butterflies appear. They seem to show up every time he thinks about who he is. Is he still Steven, or is he someone else now? Steven is dead. Everyone is mourning him, trying to heal him, but Gem is still here. So if Steven is dead, but Gem is still alive, that must mean he isn’t Steven then, right? But then that undoes everything we learned in “Change Your Mind.” He IS Steven. He’s always been Steven. But that’s when they were together...

...And so the butterflies swarm.

Notice how the first one shows up when he looks at himself in the mirror. When you look in a mirror, you should see yourself, right? But who IS he? In the show, butterflies represent thoughts and ideas, mostly dark ones, disturbing ones, or ones you don’t want to think about. Well, he already spent WAY too long proving who he was, so now to do it again sucks.

But he isn’t Steven anymore. He’s on the couch being mourned. But he’s already proved he IS Steven before, and it’s this uncertainty that is making his mind swirl. I believe this is why he flipped his gem. Just upside-down, so it’s a small thing no one will notice, while he tries to figure it out. In doing so, he’s separated himself from “Steven”, as they’re not one and the same anymore, and the flipped gem shows this. He’s someone else right now. Maybe. He’s not sure.

So what do we call you for right now? Steven. He already proved he was Steven, so until he’s proved otherwise, Steven it is. Now he just has to figure out what exactly that name means and wether or not he still fits that quota.

Flipped gem/Pink Diamond imagery is EVERYWHERE, mostly hidden in drastic shadows or in panels. It’s things you don’t notice at first, until they’re staring you in the face. See if you can spot them from the 3 screenshots below.

There’s probably more hidden throughout the comic, these are just the ones I’ve found that I feel confident enough to show as hard evidence.

So, what does it all mean? We’ll talk about the screenshots in order, left to right.

First, the Diamond is hidden as the panel in the center. In it, Human Steven lies upside down while the gem-panel is technically upside right. This can be interpreted in a few ways, but what that means to me is that something isn’t right here. If you flip Steven back around so he’s upside right, the gem is now upside down. Notice Gem Steven looking towards his human half on the bottom panel there, clutching his shirt over his gem. It’s a motion we’ve seen Steven do a TON throughout the show, anytime he’s thinking about Rose/Pink, who he is, or complicated gem stuff as a whole. Because early on, his identity was always shrouded in shadow. THAT is Steven, on the couch, without his gem. So for Gem Steven to call himself Steven is inaccurate, but also not at the same time. It’s all swarming in his head, and thus, the gem is flipped.

Next, he’s just broken the rejuvenator. This was probably the hardest to spot of the three, but if you look at the panel where Bismuth asks “feel better?” you will see, in the background, a white line cut through the soft pink hues. Look closer. It’s the outline of the gem, but it’s flipped correctly this time. This is because Bismuth seems to be the only person NOT saying Steven is dead, and treating his gem half one and the same. Is she unnerved? Yeah, but who WOULDN’T be? This is still Steven we’re talking about, as emotionally blocked as he is. He’s aware of why everyone is being weird around him, so to see Bismuth trying her best to treat him with familiarity instead of a completely different, new, dangerous stranger is really calming and helps to calm the storm a bit.

Notice the gem is flipped correctly. This is because he feels like Steven right now. Bismuth has been constant confirmation that he is still Steven, no matter the circumstances. Notice how his eyes dialate back to a larger size. They do that a lot in the comic, articulating his emotions without changing the rest of his face. It’s a clever detail to keep track of. His eyes grow more relaxed, dialating bigger when she pats his shoulder, asking if he feels better after destroying the weapon that killed him. It’s a huge relief for him to hear. So, the gem is correct.

Finally, we see Bismuth telling Greg that his son is dead, which is very contradictory to what Bis was saying earlier (in Steven’s eyes). Where is the gem on that frame? Look at Steven’s shadow. There it is, facets and all. To us, the gem is correct, but think about it this way: if Steven were actually replaced with the gem in that frame, what would it look like, Pink’s or White’s? That’s right. The point is coming from his feet, meaning it would look more like White’s, meaning it is back to being flipped upside down. Again, Bismuth just said Steven is dead, meaning he’s back to questioning his whole entire identity. So it’s back to being flipped upside-down.

It seems that the orientation of the symbolic gems hidden throughout panels show quite clearly where his head is at in terms of who he is. If it’s upside down, he’s separating himself from the cold meatball on the couch, whereas when it’s normal/upside right, he is associating himself WITH the cold meatball on the couch.

Notice he’s been grabbing at his gem a lot recently, too, all things he does while in turmoil over who- or WHAT- he is. He cannot heal right now. He can’t use his powers. Some powers are new and unfamiliar (see the more recent pages where Lapis struck out with water and he blocked with those hexagonal shields/walls). “Steven HEALS people.” He can’t, so who is he?

This is something he’ll need to have an answer to by the time the comic is done, and this is a mission for Gem Steven and Gem Steven alone. If his human half were alive (and content without his gem), he’d probably call himself “Steven” no questions asked, since he GOT his answer already, two years ago. But Gem can’t do that, not when everyone keeps drawing all these lines between the two. He needs to learn what being “Steven” means, and know that he is a part of a greater whole, but on his own, he is STILL Steven. Everyone else needs to realize this, too, and stop separating the two. It’s gonna be rough, since it may feel like replacing what they lost, but is it really? It’s going to be a tough road to trek, and I don’t know what anyone’s answer is gonna be (that’s the big mystery here, after all), but I’m here for it.

Remember, all of this has been speculation on what may happen based on facts and clues Spud has presented us with. I’m not claiming to know how Gem Steven’s arc will end, but I am throwing my hat into the ring on where I THINK it will go. Either way, the foreshadowing, symbolism, and unspoken characterizations here have been excellent, and I’m looking forward to seeing everything play out. Spud, your mind is incredible, and whatever you’ve got planned over there, I’m confident the answer will be satisfactory.

I’ll shut up now. Thank you for reading this huge meta post, and go read Spud’s comic. You can find it at @suaugonewrong or on Spud’s Tumblr, which was linked above. If you think I’m wrong or have a counter argument, bring it. Let’s talk, cause this is genuinely interesting and fun to dissect. I wanna talk about it OwO

Thank you. You may now continue scrolling.

2K notes · View notes

mala-sadas · 3 years ago

Text

On the Legendary Wolves’ Plot in Pokéspe SWSH

I really like the way the legendary wolves’ plot is being handled in Pokespe so far. They’ve made a handful of changes and additions to the plot as it’s presented in the games that make it feel integral to the main characters and the overarching story, as well as just being more interesting to follow.

Part of the reason why this plotline is weak in the games is because it’s presented as just a minor subplot. You occasionally get more information about what really happened as you progress through the game, but it doesn’t seem important for you to pay attention to it until you get to the climax and Rose reveals that he’s caused the Darkest Day. Even though you encounter Zacian or Zamazenta in the Slumbering Weald at the beginning of the game, it’s not until Circhester that Hop connects that encounter to the legend you’re unraveling. And in the grand scheme of things, all that encounter does is confirm that the sword and shield Pokémon live in the Slumbering Weald - which Sonia apparently also learns about in a book that mentions Zacian and Zamazenta by name. So, why was it necessary, again?

But right out of the gate, Spe immediately ties the legendary wolves into the main characters’ backstory and motivations. A year prior to the beginning of the chapter, Sou goes to the Slumbering Weald to try to find the Rusted Sword and Rusted Shield. He knows about them – and has an interest in them – because he’s from a family of swordsmiths, and he wants to see genuine, historical pieces of armor in person. Meanwhile, Schilly goes to the Weald to look for a Wishing Star that she had seen falling, since she wants to get it made into a Dynamax Band. The pair encounter the illusory Zacian and Zamazenta, and Sou immediately comes to the conclusion that these two are here to protect the Rusted Sword and Rusted Shield – a conclusion supported by the fact that when they walk through the illusions to try to take a look at the artifacts, they’re knocked out by a flash of light. When they awaken, the Rusted Sword and Rusted Shield are gone - as are all of Schilly’s Pokémon. Sou decides to start traveling with Schilly because he feels partly responsible for her Pokémon going missing, and Schilly decides to compete in the Gym Challenge to spread the word about her missing Pokémon and make it easier for her to find them. Additionally, it’s later revealed that Sou decided to participate in the Gym Challenge so he can get stronger and challenge Zacian and Zamazenta to a battle, believing that they’ll only allow someone with skill as a Trainer and an earnest desire to see the Rusted Sword and Rusted Shield to see the artifacts in person.

So, in short, the reason why Sou and Schilly met and their respective reasons for taking on the Gym Challenge are both intrinsically linked to their encounter with the legendary wolves. This makes the wolves’ presence relevant throughout the whole story, ensuring that the reader doesn’t forget about the encounter by the time it becomes relevant again. (I also appreciate that they gave the wolves a concrete reason to appear before the protags in the Weald, something which the games and anime never really bothered to provide.)

Additionally, the decision to introduce the Rusted Sword and Rusted Shield right away instead of saving their introduction for the climax like what happens in the games was a really smart choice. First, it ties directly into Sou’s interests, giving him a good reason to be interested in the Rusted Sword and Rusted Shield as well as the other legends involving swords and shields. Second, it allows the characters to link together the encounter with Zacian and Zamazenta to the information they’re learning about the legends - Sou observes that the sword and shield held by the statue of the hero in Motostoke as well as the sword and shield depicted on the Hammerlocke tapestries resemble the Rusted Sword and Rusted Shield, suggesting that the legends have a connection to the artifacts. And when I say “suggesting”, I don’t just mean in the sense that it’s something you can interpolate from the text. I mean that Sou literally says, “It’s not entirely unlikely that the three are all the same,” and Raihan brings up later that if they’re the same sword and shield, the legendary wolves may be connected to these events in some way as well.

This is another thing that I really appreciate about the way that Pokéspe is handling this plotline: the characters actually speculate, hypothesize, and draw conclusions about the evidence that they’re being presented with. In the games, most of the encounters with Sonia just involve you pointing out incredibly obvious things about the historical artifact/legend, and Sonia agreeing that they’re significant. She asks a lot of questions, but doesn’t postulate answers to them unless they’re directly being shown to you. And even some of the conclusions she draws seem like leaps of logic, like when she assumes that the statue behind the Stow-on-Side mural must be correct because it was made in “truly ancient times” - like, we just discovered this statue, Sonia. We have no idea how old it is.

But in Spe, the characters draw logical conclusions from the information they have, which means they can figure things out a lot faster than they do in the games and makes the conversation interesting to read whenever they learn new information. For example, Sou speculates that the sword and shield wielded by the hero might’ve had special powers, which is true. How did he figure this out? He explains that he thought about it because the hero used them to fight giant, rampaging Pokémon, which is a bit difficult to accomplish with a normal sword and shield.

Another great example of this is in Hammerlocke vault, when Sou guesses that Chairman Rose wants to cause the Darkest Day. One might think that he’s figuring things out way too quickly, but the thing is, this conclusion makes perfect sense given the information he has. While looking at the tapestries, Sou notices that the first one depicts a Wishing Star falling and the second one depicts the Darkest Day occurring. Thus, he guesses that Wishing Stars might have caused the Darkest Day, a hypothesis that Sonia agrees with because they’ve already figured out that the Darkest Day has a connection to Dynamaxing, and Wishing Stars cause Dynamaxing. But Sou had previously learned from Bede that Chairman Rose is collecting a massive amount of Wishing Stars, so it’s only natural that his next thought would be to wonder if Chairman Rose is - advertently or inadvertently - going to cause the Darkest Day again. This immediately ties the Rose plot in with the legendary wolves’ plot, a connection that doesn’t start to be made until your third visit to Hammerlocke in the games.

In general, the Hammerlocke vault scene is way better in Spe than it is in the games, where all you get is Sonia saying that the disaster depicted is probably the Darkest Day and wondering if there was one hero or two. Besides the conclusions that I already mentioned, Sonia also connects the disaster shown in the tapestries to the disaster shown in the Turffield geoglyph, concluding that they’re both depictions of the Darkest Day. However, Sou points out the lack of giant Pokémon in the tapestries, which are always associated with the Darkest Day. I really like how they point out both the similarities and the differing details between the stories, which makes it a little more understandable why no one has ever put together that this myth of the creation of Galar and the legend of the Darkest Day might be referring to the same event.

Finally, the last major improvement that I want to talk about is the one that was introduced in the latest chapter: an explanation for why the legendary wolves’ existence was lost from the legends. The destruction of the Stow-on-Side mural happens offscreen in this story, which is kind of understandable - the main significance of this statue in the games was to introduce the concept of Pokémon being involved in the legend, which Sou, Sonia, and Raihan had already figured out. This statue holds a completely different significance here: when Sonia is telling the protagonists about the newly discovered ruins, she says that she thinks the mural was put up by someone who wanted to deliberately hide the two Pokémon from the legend, giving all the credit to the humans. She points out the tapestry at Bob’s Your Uncle as further proof of this, which - given its condition - looks like someone threw it away so it would disappear from history.

I don’t believe that the games ever explain how the tapestry ended up in the restaurant, so the fact that it’s given any sort of context here is really neat. But more importantly than that, it’s really interesting that they’re stating outright that the legendary wolves were deliberately removed from the legend. In the games, Sonia wonders why the ruins at Stow-on-Side would be hidden, but doesn’t offer an explanation - she doesn’t even say anything to suggest that it was done intentionally. The question is never brought up again. So I’m really hoping that Spe won’t go that route, and this revelation will have broader implications in the story next chapter or even later - that we’re going to find out who covered it up, or possibly that someone in the present day knows about the cover-up and is willingly propagating it. The immediate assumption is that it’ll be connected to Sordward and Shielbert in some way, since they benefit from the legend being that their ancestors were the heroes who saved Galar. But I think it could also be interesting if we find out that Rose knew about the statue and is deliberately trying to keep the existence of the sword and shield Pokémon covered up - it’d make a lot of sense why he was so unforgiving to Bede for trying to destroy the mural if that were true. Either way, I’m excited to see where they take this concept.

tl;dr The way Pokéspe has been handling the plot points related to the legendary wolves has been really good so far, much better than it was in the games, and I’m very excited to see how it develops going forward!

#pokespe #pokemon special #swsh chapter #analysis #trainer sonia #trainer sou #trainer soudo #zacian #zamazenta #i spent way too long on this #please read and appreciate it #also it has given me a much greater appreciation for sou as a character #he's at his best when history is involved tbh

116 notes · View notes

anika-ann · 4 years ago

Text

Attached: Words We Don’t Mean

(...and Those We Do)

Type: series, modern-college-professor Steve AU… aka the wrong attachment AU ;)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 7950 👀

Summary: Your parents decide to visit for Thanksgiving, which alone is a trial.

The fact that they haven’t met Steve yet and they have no clue who he is… yeah, you better brace yourself for a storm.

A/N: Attached: Words We Don’t Mean (and Those We Do) is a one-shot to the Attached series. Technically, you can read it as a standalone.

A/N: In the Stockings fic, I mentioned that no one in their household talked about (last) Thanksgiving. Here’s why. Also: I named the parents Paul and Jane, it’s enough of a mess to work around with nameless reader; if that offends you, sorry, feel free to move on from this fic.

Warnings: angst, parents-daughter fight, mention of sexual relationhips and of using one’s body to earn money (negative view), mild flashback, emotional H/C, swearing, sprinkles of fluff and Disney

Story masterlist

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

“Sweetheart, please, sit down for just a second,” Steve requested gently; however, there was no mistaking the drop of amusement in his voice.

You hummed in acknowledgement of his words and continued scrubbing the bathtub clean.

Everything had to be perfect. Had to be. You bought the tinniest of the giant turkeys yesterday – just so you wouldn’t have to eat leftovers for a month –, ingredients for the stuffing, potatoes and cranberry sauce. Your mum had promised to stop by somewhere to get four slices of a pumpkin pie. But cooking was on your list later today; first you needed to make sure that the apartment would shine with cleanness.

Not that you considered yourself a neat freak, thank you very much… maybe occasionally. And Steve? Yeah, he was more of a neat freak than you were and now he was telling you to rest and take it easy? Uh-huh, nope.

Nope, because… your parents -- gosh, your parents.

“Honey-“

Your head snapped to him as he bounced off of the doorframe, soft steps leading him right to you.

“Did you just call me honey?” you asked incredulously.

Not that you didn’t like it, it was just-- you were Steve’s sweetheart, his babygirl, his good girl… now honey? That was new and frankly, it might have freaked you out a bit.

Also, your heart skipped a frantic beat upon looking at him.

Damn, you forgot again about what he had done yesterday and it always startled you to see him like that. Too unusual – not bad-looking by any means, just… unusual.

Steve chuckled as he crouched to you, dropping a kiss to the top of your head and cupping your mildly sweaty cheek. He grimaced a bit at your surprised tone.

“Not a fan?”

“I mean, yeah, sure, hun, it’s just that… it’s a bit ominous, the change.”

One corner of his lips rose at your choice of a petname. “That’s because you’re freaking out and I need you to calm down a bit, sweetheart.”

Your eyebrows shot up and you scoffed, rather offended. Mostly because he was right – but also because he was being a damn hypocrite.

“Oh, am I? Me? Did I spend about an hour in front of the mirror yesterday, trying and almost failing to solve the dilemma whether I should or shouldn’t shave off my beard?”

Steve’s face turned entirely sour at your snarky remark.

“Don’t be mean, it’s a valid concern to-- I don’t want them to hate me,” he murmured and dropped his gaze in shame along with his hand, seemingly shrinking into himself, his insecurity returning.

You sighed and mentally cursed yourself for bringing it up again.

You dropped the brush to the tub with a thud and lost one of your gloves, wiping the ew feeling onto your old sweats before you tried to smoothen the worried wrinkle between his eyebrows.

“They’re gonna love you, Steve,” you assured him again, letting you fingers travel over his clean-shaved jaw, lightly pulling at his cheek to make him smile again. “I miss the beard, not gonna lie, but you do have an extremely sweet boy-next-door look now, you are my handsome, funny, smart as hell guy, who’s somehow all grown up and has life stuff figured out and you’re making me happy. You’re the epitome of the guy a girl wants to bring home to meet her parents.”

Despite slightly panting from exertion, you took care to sound as convincing as possible, pushing away your own worries for a bit.

Steve was your perfect guy, perfection incarnated; you weren’t worried about him not making an impression… except for the fact that Steve did have a few years on you and worked at the uni and—well.

Yet, you couldn’t but dread the moment your parents realized that you were everything but perfect since they let you loose on the world. You had never been the daughter to show off like the epitome of everything good and wholesome, but you always tried your best to please them…. Now though? Darting your professor? Even if he wasn’t exactly your professor?

Yeah, you didn’t think that a spotless apartment could make up for that, but it helped to ease your anxiety when you kept lying to yourself that it just might.

Steve grasped your palm in his, planting a tiny kiss there – a gesture to warm your heart, always – his lips once again curled up a fraction as his gaze met yours, his mesmerizing blues kind and hopeful.

“You really think so?”

“Of course.”

And with the way he was looking at you – you finally figured it out. Just a fleeting thought and an answer to an unspoken question you had been failing to grasp at since yesterday; it escaped your lips before you could stop yourself.

“Gosh, you look like a Disney prince!”

Steve’s eyes went comically wide, laughter erupting from his throat and he pulled you to him in one swift motion, falling on his ass with you in his arms in the process and nearly getting crushed by you. Clearly, he did not care one bit as he shook with laughter, kissing your nose, your cheeks and finally your lips despite your protests that you were gross.

“That’s golden! Oh babygirl, you’re the-”

“Tell me I’m Cinderella, I dare you,” you grumbled, but Steve just shook his head and kissed you breathless, fingers of one hand curled around your nape to guide you closer, to breathe you in, while his other hand stayed wrapped around your waist.

You tried your best not to touch him with your gloved hand, having it ridiculously stretched out to nowhere in order not to spot his clothes, but your free hand clutched at his t-shirt with enthusiasm.

His lips left yours only when the world started spinning and your mind turned blank besides the thought of Steve’s mouth being on yours and how much you loved it when he stole all the breath from your lungs – and how much you always missed him when he withdrew.

You stared at him, dumbstruck, as he watched you like you were the eighth wonder of the world, your messy self in baggy clothes, your heart growing three times its size, your insides positively tingly from the heated make-out session.

Steve was smiling again too at last, brushing your nose with his and planting one last soft kiss on your lips.

“Okay, babygirl, now hand over the brush.”

You had to blink several times, your oh so lazy brain taking its time to realize what he said. Huh? Also, did he just said it as if he was asking you were a robber holding a hostage on gunpoint and he was asking you to lay down your weapon?

The thought made you internally snort.

“Why?” you demanded, suspicious.

“Because I’m taking over.”

You instantly shook your head. “No-“

“Yes. I promise I’ll make sure it’s spotless-“

Okay, yeah, that was one of our arguments against him doing the clean-up. However, there was one more. “But you still have papers to grade and lessons to prepare!”

“And you want to cook too and then we’ll have to clean up the kitchen. And you’ll want to take a shower and and and. Papers can wait. Gimme the brush.”

“You make it sound like it’s a weapon of mass destruction… or I am,” you muttered, but you kissed his cheek – such a strange feeling, you truly missed the sensation of his beard scraping your lips – and climbed out of his lap with a meek and cautious thank you. He cackled at your antics, but quickly fished out a new pair of gloves from the bathroom drawer and started working.

You swallowed your smart remark about him being the Cinderella now. Mostly because his gesture was one of the sweetest things and really – seeing Steve scrubbing the bathtub might not be the sexiest thing in the world… but it kinda was.

It pulled at your heartstrings as you imagined that this might be how it would always be; you and Steve, settling together, taking care of the household, then cuddling on the couch—the domesticity you hadn’t always been sure you craved.

Now you were certain of it; but to get to that, you had to survive your parents’ visit first.

��-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

You had somewhat stayed in touch with your parents, mostly with your mum; you two had been calling on a so-so regular basis, sometimes with video, and both her and your father were obviously aware that you had a boyfriend (gee, that sounded kinda trivial, a boyfriend). In fact, Steve played a huge role in them deciding to purchase their plane tickets… besides wanting to see New York City… and you.

The thing was… you had managed to keep Steve’s identity secret so far; you never used a videocall when he was around, so your mum only had heard his voice, sweet and polite in the most Steve fashion possible, you sort-of danced around his age and his job. Yeah, you found it strange as well that you kept it up so long, a divine intervention even; or maybe your mum simply had a good idea of your dirty secret all along and purposely didn’t probe.

Now, with your parents in the apartment, your dad’s eyes more on Steve than on you (your mum’s eyes wandered too, you noticed, but she had enough decency to show you she missed you first), you felt dread fill every cell in your body. Your heart was pounding in your chest with too much ferocity, your temples pulsing, your palms uncharacteristically sweaty and if it wasn’t for Steve’s warm hand on your lower back, its weight oh so comforting, you might spontaneously combust because of your nerves.

You were suddenly entirely grateful that Steve had shaved off his beard, was giving less of a an incredibly hot (and still very young, thank you very much) professor vibe and looked--- well, kinda like he could be your classmate.

But of course, of course the subject came up. Inevitably, after the small talk about your parents’ flight, about how their job was going and if they picked up a new hobby (…or heard some gossip), you and Steve became the centre of attention.

First, things went smoothly enough; you talked a bit about school, about Penny and some of your classmates and professors, about your part-time job. Steve had been subtly drawing small comforting circles on your thigh whenever he wasn’t eating and he in fact succeeded in lowering your heartbeat so much that you might appear even calm.

And then it oh so predictably went to shit.

Because apparently, your materialistic father had to ask Steve what he was studying and what his plan for his future career was.

“I actually finished my studies,” Steve admitted in an admirably dispassionate manner.

Meanwhile, your own heart started racing again, sending you to the verge of a cardiac arrest; your father’s eyes narrowed slightly, but a hint of a smile played in the corners of his lips in effort to remain polite… for now.

“Oh? Was that recently?”

You deflected that question by bringing up the pie and snatching Steve with you to bring it to the table since you two were the hosts.

The question forgotten, your mum – god bless her, she had caught up enough to know you did not want to discuss Steve’s age, even if it wasn’t that bad – asked about Steve’s field of study.

“History, minoring in pedagogics.”

“Oh? So you are a history teacher?” your dad chimed in and you swallowed as Steve confirmed that claim, walking straight into a death trap. You had seen it coming, you had, but you still winced when your father’s icy tone cut the almost festive atmosphere. “And it wouldn’t be that you’re more of a university professor, would it?”

His hand balled into a fist on the table, your mother’s lightly covering it as she whispered his name; the gesture of comfort, a silent plea for him to stay calm, didn’t quite work.

Steve, to his benefit, looked only a bit sheepish, meeting your dad’s eye with bravery worth of the Disney prince you had called him earlier that day. Also, with the same honesty… why hadn’t you agreed on lying to them again?

“It would, sir.”

“Oh. I don’t suppose then that it is a coincidence that you two met in school?” your dad continued and you sighed, your breathing progressively turning into a more and more of a difficult task with the anticipation of a storm.

“It is not, sir,” Steve replied calmly and you honestly didn’t know whether you should kiss him or punch him, unsure if his attitude made your father madder or not. “However-“

Your father’s gaze snapped to you, sharp and enraged; you felt yourself sink into your chair involuntarily, your mind travelling years back to the moments when he wasn’t pleased with you at all, yelled and sputtered words tasting of venom.

“Do you have any explanation for this inappropriate joke?” you father hissed, not caring he interrupted whatever Steve was about to say to your defence.

Your chest grew heavy, edges of your vision blurring subtly; your eyes burned and suddenly, you weren’t only remembering. You were reliving a memory, feeling like your child-self, like your teenage-self, being scolded for every imperfection; and there had been generous amount of those as you had been growing up.

Steve’s hand somehow slid under the table again, squeezing yours, a gentle wave of attempted comfort washing over you.

But it took one glance at him and you understood that silent support was not the only goal of his when he sought your touch.

His jaw was set tight, his grip a little too strong; he was trying to maintain composure, while not at all impressed with the tone your father was speaking with you.

Yet, Steve’s gesture did provide you with something you hadn’t had whenever you faced your father before; strength and true support, the essential reminder that you had done nothing wrong.

“Dad, this is not a joke,” you said, your voice shaking only slightly as you squeezed Steve’s hand back, “Steve and I are dating. Yes, he is teaching at the same college I study, but-“

A fist hit the table, causing the remaining tableware clank with the force behind the blow and you winced in fright, all muscles tensing in an instant.

“There is no ‘but’ applicable in this case!” your father spitted out, the anger in his voice making your guts twist, the sting in your eyes intensifying. “We help you to pay for school so you could study, not sleep around!”

Several things happened at once; your mother admonished your father, a level-headed whisper of his name. Your voice, too quiet as always when your father reprimanded you, tried to protest, to defend yourself. And Steve’s patience ran out, his outrage at your father’s demeanour showing.

“Paul-“

“That’s not what’s-“

“Don’t talk to her like that!“

“You keep your mouth shut now,” you father snapped at Steve, pointing a finger at him accusingly before turning his rage towards you again, the deep disappointment in his eyes somehow more hurtful than the anger. “Is it that bad with your grades that you have to—to--- Jesus Christ.“

The world stopped for several frantic beats of your heart, everything else in standstill. Multiple sharp breaths were drawn in, but you didn’t think either of them was yours.

Your father’s unfinished sentence echoed in your ears as if from a terrible distance and just like that—just like that, you were thrown several months back to the days before your graduation.

Rogers’ whore

Bet she’ll get the highest score

The icy feeling that froze your bones and crystalized the blood in your veins made for a stark contrast to the few hot tears you were distantly aware of that were running down your cheeks.

Many had thought of you that you were a set of holes to fill for the professor in exchange for passing an exam or two, which was disgusting, deeply insulting and obviously wrong. But those people didn’t know you- they weren’t your blood.

Your own father was now seconds from calling you a whore. The dinner turned into a stone in your stomach as the verbal punch knocked all air from your lungs.

“Paul!” you heard a swift reproach, quickly followed by Steve’s voice, dangerously low in a threat. “I’m sorry, what did you just imply about her?”

“You zip it-“

“Paul!”

It felt like a fucking elephant stomped on your chest, the spiral of pity and despair, mocking voices swirling wildly, tossing you around with a quickening speed as the circles got smaller and smaller, as if you were circling down the drain, your breaths coming shorter and shorter too-

And yet your father still continued, ignorant to all warnings and your inner turmoil.

“That’s over, my dear. I refuse to support such disgusting thing. And you, I don’t see how it’s possible that you still have your job-“

“DAD!” a loud cry cut off the monologue and it took you a moment to realize that it was you who just snapped and yelled, despite the unmistakable addressing.

Your father stared at you in mute shock as you dared to interrupt him; and frankly, with the world spinning, your stomach twisted and your chest constricted with anxiety, you were shocked by your actions too.

It was the fact that he doubted Steve’s position at the uni, flashed through your mind, the way he insulted the man you loved and who deserved all the good things. Or maybe it was his fucking attitude towards Steve and you in general and you just finally reached your limit. You weren’t sure; but shit, this ended now.

The silence that fell on the room granted you a few moments to breathe and calm your frantic mind.

“He is not using me like some f-“ -fuckdoll- “-fling or whatever. And he’s not even my professor, he’s-“

“Like it matters!” you father snapped from his trance, spitting the words, a vein on his temple visibly popping up as he rose to his feet swiftly, nearly sending the chair flying to the ground.

You stared up at him, the coil of despair and rage in your gut burning hot as he literally looked down on you.

You hadn’t been ready for this. You hadn’t been ready for your father to despise you for being in a relationship with a great man, to judge you so harshly without being able to listen for a damn second.

“It DOES. But even if he was-“ you tried to explain again, losing patience and the ground under your feet too as Steve’s hand started practically crushing the bones of yours.

You could physically feel Steve trying to hold back and slowly succumb to his not so nice emotions no doubt swirling in him just like in you.

“How can you not see that’s he’s only looking to get his---” your father gestured wildly towards Steve and rather low and you could hear Steve’s teeth grinding at the implication. Your blood reached the boiling point. How dared he to- “-that he’s only seeking a physical thing-“

“That’s not what this is. I love your daughter-“ Steve emphasized, expression fiery, voice surprisingly measured for a man who you believed was one moment from punching your father.

“Sure you do, son, until something with long legs and tall heels walks by-“

Steve’s chair scrapped against the floor and you quickly laid a palm over his chest to stop him from jumping to his feet and succumb to his righteous anger.

“Steve-“ you whispered soothingly, seeing the light tremble to his hands, tendons dancing under his shirt with the effort to hold back.

“Paul, that’s enough,” your mother interjected, grabbing her husband’s wrist to keep him back as well.

“I do love your daughter, I respect her and I fully intend-“

Steve closed his eyes as he inhaled shakily to compose himself. In the very back of your mind, you spared a single thought to what he was going to say before he shook his head and looked your father dead in the eye again.

“-I am serious about her and I want to and will be with her as long as she’ll have me.”

You had two full seconds to sink into the gentle sentiment behind his words, to cherish how much he did respect your choices and strangely, how he still doubted he could be enough for you, before your father scoffed dismissively.

“Well, I hope you are serious, because if she comes crawling back in few weeks, the door and the account will be closed.” He shot you one disdainful look that made your heart stop before twisting his arm from your mother’s hold and stepping away from the table. “We’re leaving.”

Your eyes slipped shut, a fresh wave of hot tears painting your cheeks, all strength leaving your body, darkness enveloping your mind.

He was cutting you off. He was going to disown you no doubt; that much of a disappointment you were to him.

Your own father hated you.

Dull ringing filled your ears, muffling your mother’s low voice.

“I’m so sorry for his behaviour.” She sounded truly regretful, her voice quivering a bit, you thought. “I��ll talk to him about what he said. Thank you for the dinner, baby. It was nice to meet you, Steve, truly.”

“You too, ma’am,” Steve responded firmly, his voice the only solid thing in the room. “I’ll—I’ll walk you out.”

“That’s not necessary, Steve. But thank you. I’ll call you, sweetheart.”

A low whisper about a promise fell from her lips next as she brushed your shoulder, but you couldn’t hope to understand what she was saying, the buzz of blood in your ears growing louder.

And then you knew she was gone along with your father. You knew because a warm hand touched yours, another gently wiping way the endless waterfall of your tears and then you were pulled to your feet and practically dragged to the couch in Steve’s protective embrace.

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

You wouldn’t be able to tell how long you were drenching Steve’s shirt in tears, sobbing into his chest as he held you firmly and yet tenderly, whispering sweet nothings, words of comfort empty and yet so meaningful.

You couldn’t tell how long it took for the tremble subdue, for the sobs to turn into sniffles and then die out entirely.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart. I’m so so sorry,” Steve whispered to your hair, caressing your scalp, your back the next, dropping a kiss to the top of your head.

“I know,” you creaked back, gripping the fabric of his shirt for one last time before you gathered your breath and courage to face him; you had to. You might be a mess, but it was vital that he heard you say this: “It’s not your fault.”

You withdrew slightly, meeting his eyes, so big and regretful, a bit watery as if he was the one crying. The corners of his lips, apparently having been turned down the whole time, twitched, his whole face twisting in a grimace; little sad, little defiant, but he didn’t protest even though you were certain that he wanted to.

Perhaps it was a testimony of how well you two fit, how your thoughts worked on the same wavelengths; you understood what he must have been thinking. If you were dating literally anybody else, this wouldn’t have happened.

So you had to assure him that you didn’t blame him; even if he did so himself. You didn’t have the energy to be angry with him for such thing. Mostly because that in a way, there was a tiny bit of truth in him thinking so.

“Don’t do that to yourself. I chose you. Yes, this relationship is on both of us… but we knew the risks and went for it anyway. And—it’s worth it, it’s just… fuck, this is so fucked up. I’m in such a mess now,” you whispered, your voice breaking as fresh tears burned in your eyes.

Steve’s fingers were quick to dry your cheeks, gently stroking, a soft smile tugging at his lips.

“We are, babygirl. We’re in this together. What’s mine is yours,” Steve said, determined. You couldn’t find yourself sharing his optimism, but his eyes locked onto yours, serious as his words. “We’ll figure it out. Find ways of saving more. Hell, if it comes to that, I’ll try to find a job that pays better-”

Your palms landed on his chest, pushing away, putting some distance between you; his hand dropped from your face.

Say WHAT?

“Absolutely not!” you protested instantly, sobering from your despair and letting indignation take over, ignoring entirely the voice in your head sweetly nudging you with the idea of what Steve was willing to give up for you. “I’ll drop off college before I let you give up being a professor, Steve-- you are made-“

“Not an option, sweetheart,” he shot back instantly, expression turning strict. “You leaving college is off the table.”

Mentally, you threw your hands up in the air, growing confused and frustrated by the minute.

“Why? How is that different from you finding a new job, giving up something you worked for so hard?”

“The difference is,” Steve raised his voice slightly, speaking slowly as if he wanted you to remember every word, “-that the chances are that I could come back at some point, that I might only lose a few years. You dropping off, on the other hand, would affect your whole future.”

The same exasperation you felt burned in his eyes now and you gulped, realization hitting you that… yeah, okay, that was a good point. But you hated it anyway.

“…okay, that’s a fair point. But I rather work three jobs and didn’t sleep at all than seeing you leave the university.”

“And work yourself to the ground? I don’t think so, babygirl,” Steve shook his head, just a smidge of patronizing which stung more than you would expect.

Obviously, he was presenting you with more of a feasible option, but you had a feeling that the primal instinct to be the provider played a role in his attitude too – and at any given moment besides this one you would like that; you were completely fine with him wanting to ensure you were secured, taking the larger portion of the burden on his shoulders.

Except now it reminded you of your father in the worst possible way despite knowing that the sentiment was nothing but sweet, no malice in his intentions. It chased tears into your eyes.

Steve’s expression instantly melted, panic flashing in his eyes as he must have figured out that this was not the right thing to say… or not the right way.

His hands were quick to frame you face, tender but unwavering, forcing you to look him straight in the eye.

“Hey, hey, no. It’s just… we’ll work it out, somehow, okay? We can even move out and share an apartment with someone else if we need to. Though you’re forgetting I used to pay this rent and bills on my own.”

Your lower lip quivered, your heart fluttering in fondness for this incredible man, your chest constricted at the idea of taking anything away from him, even if it was comfort. God, the distance he was willing to walk…

“You were living on school cafeteria food and ramen,” you mumbled, corners of your lips twitching upwards for the shortest moment.

Steve’s smile, on the other hand, was almost blinding, tight-lipped but honest, thumbs sweeping at the tears that appeared yet again.

“See, another possibility to save money. Don’t cry, my pretty girl…” he pleaded lowly, kissing your nose before shaking his head lightly. “Or cry if you need to. I’m here, sweetheart, okay? Whatever you need.”

Shit, your heart couldn’t hope to contain this amount of love-

How could anyone ever doubt Steve was the right man for you? The best man? The most wonderful loving human being? How did your father think he was just looking for a mindless fuck?

“I love you,” you whispered hoarsely, smiling through your tears. “Fuck my father. He can’t bully me into being his perfect daughter by cutting me off, can’t make me behave. There’s nothing wrong with me loving you.”

“Or me loving you.”

There was no questioning his honesty; it was written all over his features, his irises bright with emotion. And yet, you worried your teeth over your lower lip, insecurity, your old friend, crawling into your head.

“You do, really? Even with my asshole of a dad?”

You didn’t mean it. Entirely. Though momentarily, your dad was being an asshole, not for the first time.

“Yeah, sweetheart. You’re my everything,” Steve promised, releasing your face in order to tuck messy loose strands of your hair behind your ears.

“That’s the sweetest thing to say, but you can’t exactly sell me to put food to your mouth-“ Oh. Even though… maybe that would be an option? “Well, technically-“

All the gentle warmth radiating from Steve’s expression turned ice cold, smile dropping so fast it startled you.

“Don’t you even-“

“Hey, why not, I mean how much do you think-“

“Stop that right now!” Steve’s voice cut you off, razor sharp voice as if cutting into your skin.

You flinched at the mental blow on instinct, air stuck in your throat, muscles in your back straightening enough to inflict a sharp pounding in your head.

Steve closed his eyes, inhaling and exhaling painstakingly slow, as if he got punched in his gut too. His fists on your sides clenched and unclenched, Adam’s apple bobbing. When he looked at you again, it was obvious he realized he had scared you – and that he regretted not keeping his anger in check.

“I’m sorry, babygirl, I didn’t mean for it to come out this harsh.”

You bit the inside of your cheek, focusing on nothing but your breathing and keeping yourself from sobbing again as you were reminded of your father’s yelling. With each long second, you could see Steve’s face twisting and his body sinking into the couch in shame.

Well. As much as you hated him snapping at you, you had to give it to him – it sobered you up. Frankly, you didn’t blame him for being so harsh.

But you were also aware that Steve was a painfully kind and gentle soul and he never wanted to be rough with you… well, except under certain very consensual special circumstances.

“I know,” you forced an unconvincing smile, laying your palm on his cheek, affection Steve was quick to lean into with a sigh – probably both relieved and content. “I’m sorry for talking stupid.”

He covered your hand with his, carefully manipulating it so he could brush his lips over your palm.

“You’re not, not really. Our heads are a mess, rightfully so. I know people still do that, some purely by choice, but—I don’t want that for you, ever. That’s the same level on a will-never-happen scale like you not continuing your masters. Not an option for me. You’re my girl and if someone’s gonna change their habits, it’s gonna be me first.”

The surge of affection at his words filled your stomach with butterflies, wrapping around you like the softest and warmest comforter.

Great, now you wanted to cry for a whole different reason.

“I don’t deserve you,” spilled from your lips before you could think twice. Steve’s sweet smile made its return.

“Other way around, babygirl. Other way around…. Now how does a bath and a bed sound?”

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Steve hadn’t planned on you and him having a bath when making the suggestion. He found a bath-bomb even and few candles so the light wouldn’t have to be on and hurt your previously teary eyes.

But then you looked at him with wide eyes, pleading and so vulnerable, a single look so heartfelt that it would make the devil’s black heart break and the angels weep – and he was done for, sinking into the bath with you even if the bathtub was not meant for more than one person, especially when one of them was of Steve’s built.

He couldn’t tell you no. Less so after the shitstorm the dinner had turned into.

Yes, Steve’s own emotions were running high, anger, disappointment and self-hatred he knew he couldn’t confess to, certainly not at the moment, but you. You were the priority here because he had a feeling that no matter how overwhelmed he felt, he had nothing on you.

The ceramics of the tub was hard against his back and against his knees at the side, but you fit into his arms and between his legs so perfectly and contentedly that he wouldn’t dare to complain. Head in the crook of his neck, your back to his chest, you melted into him, eyes closed, fingers absently and yet affectionately running over his forearms above water, sometimes along his calves.

You didn’t talk much, mostly repeating that it wasn’t his fault, that you loved him – something he found himself echoing every time – and it slipped through your lips too that while you would never change the fact that you picked him… you were sorry for being a disappointment to your father.

At that, something in Steve’s chest cracked and he swore to himself – that he would never ever be the cause of you feeling like a disappointment. And why would he – you were his perfect girl, his best girl. As much as he regretted that he indirectly did have a hand in making you feel like this now, he wouldn’t change who you were to each other and who you were had he had the chance. Never.

What he could do was to hold you tighter after your admission and whisper more sweet nonsense that made perfect sense to him to your ear.

By the time the water got cold, you were practically asleep, completely groggy, pliant. Somehow, you both climbed from the tub without sustaining any injury. He might have been holding you upright a bit as you both brushed your teeth and pulled on a pyjama.

You fell asleep almost instantly, face hidden in Steve’s chest, few stray tears dampening his sleepshirt as you mumbled one more love confession into the fabric.

“I love you, Steve... I’m sorry… you have to put up with such bullshit…” Your words slurred but Steve didn’t need to hear them to understand what you were saying.

He dropped a kiss to the top of your head, pulling you closer to his side, ignoring the sting of guilt in his gut.

“I love you too, sweetheart,” he whispered, earning a hum that might have been a sign of contentment… or you being entirely drained. “Let’s go to sleep now. Clearer head in the morning.”

Another hum and then nothing but your deep slow breathing, the last remnants of tension leaving your body.

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Steve didn’t think he would follow you to the dreamland anytime soon, too agitated, thoughts swirling wildly in his head, but he caught himself snapping back to consciousness at some point, unsure when he fell asleep – and what woke him up.

An intrusive buzzing on your nightstand provided him with the answer, your phone lit up.

Steve spared you one glance as you stirred only to nuzzle deeper into his frame, sighing.

As carefully as he could so he wouldn’t wake you, he stretched over you and checked who was calling.

Blood crystalized in his veins, heart sent into frenzy as he read a simple short word.

Mom.

He squeezed the side button, silencing the vibration as he pondered what to do; and yet, even as his heart jumped to his throat – as if he was a teenager about to face his girlfriend’s parents after he took her virginity – he had already made a decision, accepting the call as you sank into the cushions without him as a pillow.

He slipped from the room as silently and quickly as possible, announcing himself before you mother could say something not meant for his ears.

“Oh. Hello, Steve,” your mother greeted him, clearly surprised – but much to Steve’s relief, not angry.

He could do this, he could talk to your mother even with the lump in his throat; could have been much worse. Could have been your father and Steve wasn’t so sure if he would manage him. For one, he would hate to be reminded, once again, of what the numerous hate letters had told him about being a total perv; for two, Steve feared he might exchange words with your father that couldn’t have been taken back and would seal the damage done to the relationship with your parents .

“I’m sorry, ma’am. She fell asleep and—I can wake her, of course, but-“ He stumbled over his words and was immensely grateful when your mother saved him from his misery; more se when she said what she did.

“-but she had a rough night. We all did. I’m okay to talk to you, Steve.”

“Alright… how can I help, ma’am?”

“Tell me how bad she is, Steve? She stopped crying before she falling asleep?” the woman on the other side asked softly, causing Steve’s heart to squeeze in a painful memory of his own kind mother, God bless her soul.

And perhaps it was that very memory that encouraged him to speak openly, the genuine worry of a mother who cared deeply for her child, her heart full of love.

How such woman could end up with such an asshole and stay with him was beyond Steve’s understanding, but he certainly wasn’t in position to judge the choices of the women in your family – after all, he was your choice and there was a long line of people who looked at the two with disdain.

“For a while,” Steve admitted with a sigh, his gaze automatically flickering towards the bedroom. “She’s—she feels like she disappointed you in a way, she’s scared of the what’s next, but she’s angry too, because she doesn’t think she did anything wrong by being with me.”

And Steve thought the same… to a point. Didn’t matter that sometimes he would find himself in a dark place where he simply awaited the moment you’d change your mind and left him; for someone your age, with better looks, someone smarted, someone funnier, someone who didn’t have to shave off his beard just so your parents made it through the front door without yelling.

Such gloomy images always left him more desperate than he was comfortable admitting and with searing jealousy in his gut.

He needed you. Yes, he’d survive if you left – but he was certain that you’d take his heart with him, leaving him unable to fall in love ever again… or to feel whole, for that matter.

“She wouldn’t leave you to get her financial support back, Steve,” sounded gently on the other end of the line and Steve’s heart skipped a beat in alarm, brief wonder if he had said any of his latest thoughts out loud.

He supposed he didn’t – your mother was just too intuitive, just like his used to be. He gulped against his dry throat, suddenly guilty for – in a way – forcing you to leave them.

“…I suppose not… I’m sorry if-- it was never my intention to steal your daughter from you, but I’m- I’m not gonna pretend I mind that she would rather be with me than had her money.”

“This is not your doing, Steve, don’t you think I don’t know that,” she continued, a subtle smile in her voice, Steve thought. “And it’s good that she’s willing to make this choice. We wouldn’t want the bride to get cold feet, after all.”

Steve’s heart stopped altogether, he was sure of it. Colour him mortified.

How the hell—but- she couldn’t--- he hadn’t proposed yet and he- what?

His stomach twisted in a tight knot. He couldn’t but ask, voice barely above whisper.

“…how did you know?”

“You stopped yourself mid-sentence, Steve. And as cliché as it sounds, you had fire in your eyes, defending my daughter. It is clear to me that you are serious about her, that you love her, and from the little I heard about you, you are the kind of man who would put a ring on it to seal the deal.”

You mother was definitely smiling now and Steve found himself doing the same, even if the lift of his lips turned sour.

“I would have asked for parents’ blessings, but…”

“I give it,” she was quick to assure him and Steve’s breath hitched, his chest puffing with pride, filling with endless relief and joy. Your mother approved of him. Even knowing who he was, how old he was, how—she was willing to give him her blessing! “You seem like a good man, Steve.”

Steve was both embarrassed and ridiculously proud when he realized he was blinking against tears gathering in his eyes, enormous weight falling from his shoulders.

“That, uhm—that means a lot, truly,” he choked out, swiftly clearing his throat, the embarrassment definitely winning now. He had to get it together before he gave out how weak he could be in front of your mother… she had given her blessing; she could easily take it back.

“I like you, Steve. You’re a good blend of an old-fashioned and modern man. Don’t mess it up and keep my daughter happy.”

“I will try my best, ma’am,” he declared in an instant, meaning every word.

A sigh sounded from the speaker. “That’s all I ask for… now the less happy reason to call. I talked to Paul, but he… I’m sorry, Steve, as for now, he still isn’t fond of you.” That didn’t surprise Steve, but it hurt nonetheless. Then again, he was grateful that your mother tried to put in a good word for him; that meant a lot too. “He only agreed to pay for three more months.”

Steve’s free hand balled into fist, the other clutching the phone considerably tighter as hot surge of anger flooded his veins.

Three more payments. As if the relationship with your family was a damn job contract and this was the notice period.

Steve was sure he was going to be sick.

“Thank you. That’s… we appreciate it,” he managed to grit through his teeth, trying his damnest to remember that he wasn’t mad at the sweet woman – only at her husband.

“You really are a good man, Steve. You’re good for her. I’m glad she found you.”

Steve would once again be entirely joyful at being at least your mother’s favour, but he heard you call out his name from the bedroom, low, hoarse and utterly confused and all he could focus on was the idea of you, red-rimmed eyes and messy hair and still adorable, looking for him in the dark room with a pout to your lips.

“Steve?” your mother called out unsurely and Steve snapped from his reverie.

“Sorry, uhm, she’s awake-- do you want me to hand you over or-“ he blurted out swiftly, hoping the answer would be no as he couldn’t wait to crawl back to bed with you.

“No, just tell her I called. I believe you two have things to talk about. Take care of my daughter, Steve. I’ll be in touch.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Jane, Steve,” she offered kindly just as Steve heard the soft patting on your fluffy socks on the floor.

“Yes, Jane,” he corrected himself then, unable to contain the satisfaction as he tested the name on his tongue. “Thank you, really. Goodnight.”

He ended the call as you emerged from the bedroom, squinting to the low light, your eyes instantly finding him – he automatically smiled for you, unsubtly splaying his arms wide. You didn’t hesitate, aiming straight into his embrace even if it was at snail pace.

It was funny and strange and wonderful how Steve still loved simply holding you, his heart calmer the moment he found you melting into his frame. Christ, he loved you… and clearly, your mother noticed; he was so obvious, that-

“You were gone,” you muttered into his chest discontentedly, nuzzling into him and Steve automatically cradled you to him tighter.

“Sorry, sweetheart. How are you feeling?”

“Like shit,” you admitted bluntly, propping your chin on his torso to look up at him, eyes growing wide and surprisingly soft with emotion. “More so because I was talking stupid and crying into your shirt instead of comforting you after my dad accused you of the things that--- those things that aren’t right.”

Steve felt the painful nudge to his consciousness, because he knew there always would be some truth to ‘those’ words; but you were here to dilute the pain and make it all better. Your care for his well-being served like a shield for the sticks and stones for now at least, when you were the priority. You had it worse at the moment, no matter what his former colleague had accused him of in those hate letters – and now your father.

“Hey, no. Don’t worry about me now.”

You gazed into his eyes, pushing on your tiptoes to peck his lips and the small gesture of affection was like a balm to his soul, much like your words.

“But I do. Always. I love you, Steve… I’m sorry we can’t catch a break… but we’ll… somehow, we’ll push through, right?” you whispered, hopeful and wistfully determined and Steve could only nod, feeling the corners of his lips rising.

“Absolutely, sweetheart. You’re my girl.”

“And you’re my guy. My prince charming,” you hummed, cradling his unusually smooth cheek, irises full of wonder, the sensation was as foreign to you as it was to him. But it was your babble that made him chuckle, the nickname that seemed to catch on; you were too cute for words. “Guess I am Cinderella after all and somehow you accidentally fell in love with me.”

“Damn right I did,” he confirmed, brushing your forehead with his lips before tugging you back to the bedroom. “Not all that glitters is gold.”

“True. Though you might have some glitter from the bathbomb on you.”

“Cheeky girl.”

He didn’t bother pretending to be offended or grumpy; he was simply too happy to see some of your snarky teasing side making its return, that was always a good sign.

“I try… but really, are you okay?”

Steve didn’t respond at first, climbing to the bed, manoeuvring you to his arms where you belonged and fit so naturally. Only when the lights were out and you were both comfortable, he replied, truthfully.

“I will be. I have you. Plus, your mum seems to be okay with me.”

More than okay, apparently.

Steve’s heart fluttered with a bit of nerves as his mind wandered to the ring he kept in the very room you fell asleep every night.

“As she should,” you hummed, sounding very pleased. “She has a nose for good people. And you’re the best.”

“After you at least.”

“Best man, then,” you argued playfully and Steve was perfectly content to have you think that. It would play in his favour when he would finally find the courage to sink to one knee in front of you.

“Well, I’m certainly a lucky one… I have the best woman.”

“Uh-huh. Sure you do. Love you,” you whispered, kissing his chest over the fabric of his sleepshirt and sighing blissfully. “Goodnight, Steve.”

“Goodnight, sweetheart. I love you too.”

If you only knew how much…

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

S.R.masterlist

Attached masterlist

Stockings (next in timeline)

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Wink wink. I once again stretched this quite a bit, but hopefully you reached this very end without skipping something ;)

Thank you for reading and extra thanks if you happen to like, reblog and/or comment. Stay safe and happy!

(Also, to American friends: I hope you'll have better Thanksgiving than this ;) )

212 notes · View notes

something-tofightfor · 3 years ago

Text

Christmas in July #5: Just One Thing I Need

Pairing: Ezra x Female Reader (’Starlight’ / NSFW Alphabet Ezra and Reader)

Word Count: 2,748

Rating: Slight NSFW; It’s kinda smutty. Language. Sexual content. Mentions of canon-typical violence and events that took place during the movie. Ezra’s remaining hand and his mouth deserve warnings of their own.

I am SO SAD to not include this entire gif within the post, but this screenshot still gets the point across. Thank you for this request, @cannedsoupsucks - I need to get back to Ezra and this Reader at some point VERY SOON because they’ve been waiting patiently ... so here’s a glimpse. Had to include a little bit of angst, becuase it’s so close to when Ezra returned from the Green ... but it’s still decidedly fluffy... and kinda sorta smutty, too. For a minute.

Lifting his mouth from where it had been previously - the patch of skin just above your hip that drove you wild - Ezra’s voice filled the room. “Do you realize, Starlight, that this is the first Christmas I’ve been on the Ephrate with just you since -” “Since the first year we were together.” You interrupted him, your mumbled words ending with a sharp intake of breath as he lowered his lips again, a damp trail left behind as he moved them. “Ezra, you … I’m not stupid. Kevva, what are you doing?” You knew exactly what the man was doing; he was trying to distract you, to keep you from getting out of bed and leaving him alone in the chilly morning air. “Ezra.” With a quiet laugh, you used both hands to reach for his head, the man’s cheek pressed against your bare stomach, breath fanning out over the dampened, exposed skin. “Come on, look at me.”

He did, turning over so that he was laying on his back, dark eyes finding yours in the mid-morning light as his head turned to the side again. “I’m looking at you, just as you requested.” He raised an eyebrow and you were happy to see that his cheeks were fuller than they had been only a few months earlier, his eyes bright and warm again. He’s getting there. “Was there something that you wanted to discuss?” “When’s Cee coming back?” You ran your fingers through his hair, head cocked to one side. “I know it was supposed to be before Christmas, but …” But that storm’s headed in, and … “She won’t be here until after, will she?” “She will not.” Ezra only sounded slightly disappointed, sadness briefly flashing in his eyes before he spoke again. “There’s no time to switch her transport, nor are there earlier tickets available to do so. With this snowstorm, it’s safer for her to say at school, with her friends until the second half of her holiday break commences.” That’s what I thought. “She’s going to spend Christmas with Dyna and her family, right?” Ezra nodded, the rasp of his beard against your skin making you shiver. He knows he’s doing that, too. “Good.” Ezra reached out with his hand, fingers closing around your elbow and squeezing. “As much as I love having her here, Ezra … I…” Trailing off, you bit your lip and looked away. I’m being selfish. I … she’s just a kid, and she’s important to him, which means she’s important to me, too.

“I understand, Starlight.” With only a little difficulty, Ezra lifted himself into a sitting position, his hold on you tightening and your arm helping to stabilize him as he rose. “You can say it.” “It’s been too many holidays apart, Ezra. Too many birthdays and Christmases and Harvests and New Turns. For both of us. I want to celebrate things with her - with both of you, but …” You shrugged. “Right now, for this Christmas? The first one back? I’m happy it’s just the two of us.” “She’ll celebrate with Dyna and Aric and their parents. She’ll get to see real snow for the first time, since they’re out in the flats.” You nodded, eyes still on the man. “You and I will spend the day together, and when we pick her up from the docking station?” He leaned closer, sliding his legs over the sheets and moving up so that he was closer to your face. “We’ll have a second Christmas a few days late, with Cee.”

“Does that make me a terrible person, though?” Frowning, you reached out, fingertips finding and moving over the silvery scar on his cheek. “She’s just a kid, and it’s Christmas.” He said your name, lowering his face toward yours and pressing a kiss to your lips, the action much gentler than you were used to from him. No, it’s much gentler than it was before. Now … this is normal.

“Think of it this way.” Rubbing the tip of your nose with his, you felt him smile. “A half turn ago, she was on the Green with Damon. Had those unfortunate circumstances not occurred, she likely wouldn’t be celebrating one Christmas, and if she did? It wouldn’t be anything like either of the ones she’ll have with us.” He brushed your hair away from your face with his large hand, staring into your eyes. “Now? She’ll get two days to spend with those she cares about. Two days of feeling safe and warm and happy, with no expectations placed upon her except that she enjoy them.”

It still astounded you - the way he’d come to care about the girl so quickly, despite everything that had occurred since they’d met. You knew that he felt guilty about inadvertently causing Damon’s death, but Ezra spent his days trying to make up for that - with himself and with the girl, and she’d long since forgiven him. And he’ll forgive himself, too. Eventually. “You’re right.” Sighing, you gave him a lopsided smile. “You’re always right, Ezra.” “I am far from always right, Starlight.” He kissed you again, this one more heated than the first, lips insistently pressed to yours. “We both know that.” You reached for him, mindful of the end of his arm, hidden beneath the short sleeve of the dark shirt he wore, and made contact with his side, fingers pressed to his ribs - which weren’t as prominent anymore. “But if you’re being selfish, I must confess that I am selfish, too.” What? “You’re not the only one that counted those missed holidays. With each one that passed, I also marked them into the volume of my life, though it was in very different ways than you.”

He’d had very little with him when he and Cee finally fled the Green on the stolen rock jumper, but one of the things that he’d managed to conceal safely in his suit along with a modest stash of aurelac was a small journal, pages covered front to back in Ezra’s tiny, neat handwriting. It was one of the first things he’d shown to you when you were reunited, and so you knew what he was referring to. He kept track of the days he’d spent on the desolate moon in there - circling the important ones, making notes about others that held significance in shorthand that only he understood. Because he wanted to remember, even when it was hopeless. “We did what we could, Ezra.”

You could feel him beginning to withdraw, his thoughts turning back to the extended period of time on the Green, and so you chose not to let him, placing the hand that wasn’t on his side on his cheek to turn his head back toward you. Look at me, Ezra. You’re here. “We did.” He smiled then, warmth returning to his eyes and his expression coming back to life. “The same way we will now, when my feet and heart are firmly back upon the Ephrate’s surface.” Ezra stared at you for a few seconds without speaking, and you waited, knowing that he had more to say. He always does. “Now. We should get dressed and go to get that tree you promised me before the snow hits here.”

---

You had to go to three different locations and it took a few hours, but you and Ezra finally found the perfect tree for your living room, a kind man helping Ezra carry it to your vehicle and the two of them lashing it to the top. You could tell that he was frustrated - before, you and Ezra would have handled it yourself, the man doing most of the knot-tying and heavy lifting, but with only one arm, there were new limitations that he was still getting used to. And, you thought as you both settled into your seats to go home, he’s going to need all of his strength to help me carry it inside.

That was less of a struggle than you imagined it to be, with Ezra holding onto the trunk end and you using both hands to stabilize the needled top as you carried it up the few steps and through your front door. Once it was securely in the stand - and only leaning slightly to one side, the two of you stood back to admire your work, Ezra using his arm to pull you back and into his chest, fingers wrapped around the front of your shoulder. “It may be hubris on my part, but I … believe that we did well, Starlight.” You laughed at that, the silhouette of the tree in front of the window making you feel giddy.

“It’s not. It looks damn good, Ezra.” He kissed the side of your head, rocking slightly back and forth. “I’ll dig the lights out later tonight, and then the ornaments tomorrow. We’ll have it done in no time.” He’d never helped you decorate for the holiday before, but in the weeks he’d spent recovering from his injuries on the Green in your house, the two of you had agreed to hold nothing back while moving forward, sharing every experience possible. Christmas is no different. “Plenty of time to wrap the presents and get them under there before Cee gets home.”

His arm tightened around you at that, Ezra pulling you even closer. “In the spirit of Christmas, there’s something else I need to admit to you.” He spoke quietly, murmuring into your ear. “Cee being delayed is … fortuitous.” Is it? How? He urged you to turn and face him, and when you did, you were met with the full strength of Ezra’s gaze, the man unblinking as he watched you. “It gives me the only gift I truly want.”

“W… what do you want, Ezra?” You felt heat creeping through your body at the way he was staring at you. Though you’d craved it while he was gone, you were still getting used to the intensity of Ezra’s full attention, to the way him watching you as if he could see inside of you still made you feel the same way it had when you’d first met him in your lecture hall. I thought he’d want to spend this holiday with her … with all three of us together, but he … this seems like … he wants something else.

“You.” He leaned in, lips tracing over your temple and then down, his hand following the same path on the other side of your face. “All I want this Christmas is you, and for the two of us to have a chance to -” You kissed him hard as an interruption, both hands coming up to the sides of his face to keep him from moving, but Ezra wasn’t going anywhere. And he won’t again. “You like hearing that, don’t you?” You could tell that he was smiling as he spoke, but all you could do was nod, both eyes closed as you leaned your forehead against his. I do. “Incredible.” He kissed you again, your lower lip fit perfectly between both of his. “I’ve rendered you speechless, Starlight, with a simple -” “Ezra.” You breathed out his name, relief flooding your body again at the fact that he felt the same as you - that as much as he wanted Cee to have normal holidays, he was just as thankful as you were to have more time together, just the two of you. There was plenty of time to talk - to continue rehashing the years you’d spent apart, the months you’d worried about him, the things that he’d endured during his trip. Now’s not the time. Now isn’t… “Up, Ezra.” Taking a half step back, you moved both hands to the hem of his shirt, taking the fabric between both hands. “Lift your arms up.”

It had taken the man over a month to show you the extent of his injuries; not only the healing wound on the arm he’d had amputated, but the scarring on his chest, along with the other marks on his body that hadn’t been there the last time you’d seen him. But they’re a part of him now, and he has to… understand that I want to see them. “What are you … we have a tree to…” But you could hear in his voice that he didn’t want you to stop, one arm raised high above his head and the other extended upward as far as it would go to match.

“The tree can wait.” You pulled the long-sleeved shirt off, letting it drop to the floor with a quiet thunk as the knotted sleeve hit. “There’s a snowstorm coming, right? That means we’re gonna be stuck for a while.” He grinned, the expression genuine, and you let your gaze roam over his exposed skin before you met his eyes again. “I just wanted you back too, Ezra.” You nodded once. “And now I’ve got you.” Without warning, you dropped to your knees, looking up at him. “It’s the best gift I could have asked for. So I’m going to make it count. All of it.”

“Starlight, I…” But he didn’t stop you, even as your hands undid the button on his pants followed by the zipper. More often than not since he’d been back in your life, you’d been the one to initiate intimacy, but you didn’t mind. Not with him. Ezra’s fingers wrapped around your chin, his thumb tracing over your lower lip. Yeah? Silently questioning him with a smirk and a raised eyebrow, you felt the seconds tick by, hearing the quiet but constant tick-tick-tick as the ice pellets began to hit the windows. It starts. “What are you waiting for?” His voice was thick with desire, but he didn’t look away, even as your hand found the slit in the front of his underwear, fingers wrapping around him and tugging his length free.

From the moment that you wrapped your lips around the tip, you knew that you had him; Ezra’s eyes snapping shut and his mouth flying open, a string of words reaching your ears that you’d never grow tired of hearing him say. There was no need for him to be quiet, and so he wasn’t, the hand dropping from your chin to your shoulder, bracing himself on your body. When you finally pulled back to take a deep breath, you glanced up, noticing that Ezra had fallen silent. “What?” Clearing your throat, you swallowed, slowly stroking him with one hand. “Got real quiet, Ezra. Do you want me to stop?” “No, I want to get back into that Kevva-damned bed with you right now, Starlight.” He rasped the words out, voice thick and slightly hoarse. “Get up.” You loved that you could do that to him, loved hearing the change in his voice, the drop as he told you what he wanted and needed from you. “We’ll finish this there, where I can fulfil my obligation and show you thoroughly just how much I appreciate being alone with you.”

Pulling your hand away from him, you held both of them up, palms facing out as you rose to your feet, taking a step back. “I’m an obligation to you now, Ezra?” But you were joking and he knew it, even as he bent down to remove his pants one leg at a time after tucking himself back behind the fabric of his underwear, though it did little to hide his excitement from you. It never did. He groaned as he straightened up, standing in front of you wearing only the one article of clothing, lean body on full display. Oh, I missed you, Ezra. “I don’t mean it like that.”

“I know.” He took a step toward you, forcing you backward, and even though there was no malice in his posture or expression, Ezra stayed silent until you reached the doorway of the bedroom, his eyes landing on the window and causing you to turn away from him to look. “It’s really coming down, isn’t it?” In the minutes that you’d spent on your knees in front of him, the ice had changed to snow, fat flakes swirling outside of the window. “Good.” He stepped behind you, arm snaking around your waist and his palm sliding beneath your shirt and up, settling just beneath the bottom of your bra as he held you close again. “Looks like I’ll have to ensure that you’re well taken care of until it lets up.”

---

Ezra (Prospect) Tag List: (Add yourself HERE)

@the-blind-assassin-12 @jynrumbly @cannedsoupsucks @misguidedandbeguiled @raspberrymama @missminkylove @gracie7209 @iamskyereads @jupiters--moonxx @spideysimpossiblegirl @pretty-brown-eyess @csigeoblue @bport76 @krissology

24 notes · View notes

mariamermaid · 4 years ago

Text

I put a spell on you

Sherlock Holmes (19th century) x fem dancer Reader

Summary: After his brother´s persuasion, Sherlock agrees to go to the Ballet with him and is mesmerized by the dancer…

Words: 1.9k

A/N: This is more for the movies/ enola holmes movie, since it´ll take place in the late 19th century. I´m not too familiar with the ballet, so let´s ignore the accuracy.

Halloween Masterlist

Théophile Gautier´s ballet “Giselle” was an absolute success. Even years after the ballet was first performed in Paris, the London theater decided to bring the play back. An act that brought Mycroft Holmes into liberating excitement, much to his brother´s concern. The fog these days laid thick in London and Sherlock, who had just solved an exhausting case, that ended with a dangerous pursuit, in which he broke his arm, wasn´t practically excited. But the younger brother wasn´t left with many options. “God, Sherlock, what happened this time?”

Mycroft pointed towards his arm, hanging in a sling to his side, above his shirt. The jacket was loosely thrown on top of his shoulders, Sherlock shrugged not paying much attention to Mycroft´s needless worries. Around him were a few men gathered and Sherlock found himself falling for simple, but plain and boring small talk. Sighing, he followed his brother into the hall and braced himself for boring hours. But then, the classical music started, Sherlock expected it to be the best part, until he saw you entering the stage. It was the first act and you played the Giselle in the village. Giselle was portrayed as a young, innocent but endearing girl. The white long tutu graced your figure perfectly and throughout the act, you danced across the stage with ease. The forester Hilarion and the prince Albrecht are both in love with Giselle, but after Hilarion unmasks Albrecht´s disguise as a farmer, the girl is led into a disaster. Heartbroken after finding out about Albrecht’s true identity, she falls into his sword and dies. In that scene, Sherlock found himself clinging onto the seat and when the light went out to announce the break, he realized how hard he had grabbed the armrests. His tongue slid across his lips, trying to relax his jaw. He then joined his brother and his entourage outside at the bar for a drink, but the picture of you in the white tutu floating across the stage as if it was nothing, didn´t left his mind. “She´s stunning”, he admitted and the men around him nodded.

“Who? Y/n, she´s a natural”, Mycroft added slightly smiling. “You know her?” Sherlock asked interested and the men echoed in laughter. William Grey, a friend of Mycroft and well-known man in London, grinned. “Your brother, Mr. Holmes, is one of the many men running after Miss Y/L/N.”

Mycroft cleared his throat, he hated admitting that he failed. “I never ran after her.” To Sherlock´s despise, the topic was then dropped. He wanted, no he needed more information about you. While the men gathered for a second round of whiskey, Sherlock did what he did best; research and investigate. He unobtrusively glided through the doors leading to the rooms behind the stage. And there you stood, one hand against the wooden bar and practicing your posture. You had changed costumes, after Giselle´s death, you now wore a blood red tutu and your lips were painted in the same color. Sherlock felt goosebumps raising on his skin, in the soft light of the mere headlights behind the stage, the dry dust floating in the air, you did indeed like a ghost. But a stunning ghost, so beautiful, Sherlock just stopped in his tracks to stare at you.

A man, who worked behind the scenes and was just arranging a background piece, bumped against Sherlock. “Man, don´t stand around!” He eyed Sherlock suspiciously. “No spectators behind the stage”, he added and his low went low. “I…” He didn´t know what to answer, his eyes were still glued onto you. A man, as far as Sherlock guessed he was the regisseur, came to talk you and you nodded to whatever he was saying. You then turned to get your hair checked again, but you noticed the unknown man standing around. His tall figure with his neat clothes, his eyes meeting yours. For a second, you stood still, admiring his dark locks and his angular features. But then you remembered the work and disappeared within the crowd of people running around. “Didn´t you hear what I just said?” Sherlock jerked, as the man spoke up again, louder and clearly angry.

“Sorry, I must´ve taken a wrong door somewhere.”

As quick as he appeared behind the stage, he vanished again. Sherlock found his seat next to his brother, who eyed him confused. “Where have you been?” Luckily, the lights went out before he could think of an excuse.

The second act started, the forester Hilarion waits at Giselle´s death bed, until the nature ghosts and their queen Myrtha appear to welcome Giselle in their realm. Sherlock couldn´t tear his eyes of you, you were pale with powder and your once white gown, was now black as the night. Albrecht finds the ghost as well and follows Giselle into the woods. Myrtha and her wilas, dance around Hilarion until he drops with exhaustion and dies. Myrtha shortly after finds Albrecht, but he is protected by Giselle´s love. At dawn, the queen loses her power and Giselle forgives Albrecht, before she vanishes.

The whole act was preposterous, the dance of the dead ghosts and in between them; you. Sherlock saw the light of life in your eyes glistening. You looked magical to him; he couldn’t describe any other way. The hall echoed with applause and Sherlock even joined in the standing ovation, your performance was outstanding. He then waited outside with his brother again; some men with wife´s went home, but Sherlock waited with anticipation. It was almost an hour later, when he finally saw you. The stage make-up was gone and you looked exhausted, but happy. You had a coat thrown over your shoulder and a dark red, rather simple dress. Your hair was loosened, but remained closed. People quickly approached you, congratulating on the success and praising your abilities and talent. But you had spotted Mycroft within the crowd, and with him the man who had caught your attention earlier. You slipped away and made your way to them. “Mycroft.” You smiled as he greeted you, leaning down and placing a delicate kiss on your hand. “Y/N, extraordinary and perfect as always.” A faint blush was on your cheeks, but then your glance wandered to Sherlock.

“Who is your companion, Mycroft?” It was almost awkward, how Sherlock couldn´t do anything but stand around and stare at you, his brother chuckled. The sight was rare, but welcomed for him. “You´ve heard of him, my brother Sherlock!” A grin crept on your rosy lips and you put out your hand to greet him as well. Sherlock could´ve punched himself, a lady like you holding her hand out first; what kind of gentleman he was! He took it softly and did his brother equal, placing a kiss on your hand. “Mr. Holmes, are you working on a case right now?” Sherlock stopped, raising his eyebrow confused.

“It seemed like you nosed around behind the stage in the break, are you looking for a thief?” The assumption you made was perfectly fine, but your tone stated differently. You knew he wasn´t there for a case and Mycroft snickered. “You have to excuse my brother, Y/n. Snooping around runs in his veins.” Sherlock breathed out, a slight annoyance rising. He didn´t like the way his brother was able to interact with you, not unless he was able to do so as well.

Mycroft changed the subject; “My birthday, Y/n, next week, I hoped you would come?” Your eyes left Sherlock and jealousy rose in him, a feeling he wasn´t very familiar with. “I have a performance, but I will try to sneak away afterwards.”

William Grey interrupted your group, saying his goodbye´s for the evening and you cleared your throat. “I´m going home as well, training and rehearsals are getting the better of me.” For once this night, Sherlock was quicker than his brother. “Can I walk you home, Miss Y/L/N?”

You grabbed your bag a little tighter, hanging over your shoulder and he noted how hard to read your expression was. “I don´t need a man to protect me, Mr. Holmes. But I´m willing to let you accompany me in exchange for some details about your solved cases, I´m quite a fan if you will.” Sherlock smiled and tilted his head proudly.

“So, you recognized the murderer due to his shoes?” You asked interested as the two of you walked through the dark streets of London. The light from the lanterns fell softly to the ground, but the air laid silent. It was late, barely any light left in most houses. Sherlock nodded, lurking down to you. “That´s fascinating, Mr. Holmes.” “You can call me Sherlock.”

For the first time, you actually blushed. “Willing to solve some riddles for me, Sherlock?” A shiver ran down his spine as you called him by his name, but he nodded. “When the water comes down, it rains. I go up, what am I?” Sherlock paused for a second, but a grin spread on his lips. “An umbrella.”

“I can fly but I have no wings. I can cry but I have no eyes.” “A cloud.”

"I dance as the night rises and a wooden pole accompanies me; what am I?” He chuckled confident.

“A ballerina.”

You stopped on the street and behind you laid a park, dark and the silhouettes of trees and bushes rose like giants in the night. “A witch, Mr. Holmes. A witch on her broom.”

Sherlock stopped in his tracks, behind you walked a black cat and the coincidence let him shiver. He usually wasn´t a superstitious type, but you were not to be underestimated; he was sure of it. He swallowed realizing how you had been able to distract him from the logical solution. “As far as I´m concerned, I have bewitched your mind, Sherlock.” From your coat you pulled out a notepad, his notepad. All notes on previous cases and current observations were written down. “How-“

“For a detective, you´re not very good at sneaking around, behind the stage.” You fell into his word, before he was able to ask questions. He wondered how on earth you had stolen his notepad, maybe due to his lack of movement with the broken arm? You were absolutely right however; you did drive him insane. Laughing, you held his notepad still up. “Don´t worry, you´ll get your notes back, if you solve my last riddle.”

His tongue glided over his lips. “A party, but the ballerina doesn´t want to dance.”

He anticipated more, but you closed your mouth, grinning. “I´ll see you next week, Sherlock.”

Sherlock hadn´t realized that you had reached your destination and you turned to leave him standing in the middle of the street. “How did you steal my notes?”

You laughed out loud as you hurried into a dark alley, he guessed that the entrance to your apartment laid there.

“I put a spell on you, Sherlock Holmes.”

He hurried after you, but as he entered the alley, a dead end as he realized, you were gone. There was no door and no windows at the wall surrounding him, you had basically vanished into thin air. Sherlock smiled in excitement; the evening turned out so much better than he ever imagined. He lit himself a pipe and strolled to his own home. A party, but the ballerina doesn´t want to dance, your words repeated in his mind. I´ll see you next week. Mycroft´s birthday party and you don´t want to dance. What does a lady do, that gets invited by someone, who she doesn´t want to dance with? She arrives accompanied by a different man.

#sherlock holmes imagine #sherlock holmes x reader #sherlock imagine #henry cavill #robert downey jr #benedict cumberbatch #mariamermaidimagine #enola holmes

229 notes · View notes

shera-dnd · 3 years ago

Link

So remember when I mentioned that one of my projects was a whole ass AU based on a single line from some song lyrics? Well that’s the project!

Because why not take the lyrics to Smile and turn some of that shit very literal?

Also get ready because this fic is gonna be flowery as all hell.

Anyways there is the AO3 link up top and here is the fic itself for those who’d rather read it here

Camps and tents were set, and arenas had begun construction in the cold fields just outside the walls of great Atlas, the city of innovation, riches, and splendor. This could only mean one thing, the Vytal Festival was fast approaching and with it the nobles, knights, and representatives from every last human nation in Remnant.

In an official capacity it was a seven day long celebration of their long lasting peace. In practice people always arrive long before the festival proper, and then start a few festivities of their own until it is time for the main event, meaning the festival itself could easily span a full month of revelry.

That meant a crowd of strangers, countless new faces that no single person could ever keep track of, all gathered outside the gates of Atlas for weeks. Which made it the perfect time for a young fae to play her tricks. Honestly, the lords of men should all be thankful that she wished only to partake in their revels.

The fae woman gathered her belongings in the nearby forest, and checked her reflection in a little pond she had found. Of all the members of her court, she was the one that had achieved mastery over glamours with the most ease, still she planned on spending weeks among the humans, so she had to make sure everything looked perfect.

The face that greeted her was unfamiliar, but also perfectly human. Her skin was a shade darker than the pasty atlesians she would be mingling with, and little freckles marked it in incidental little patterns. Her long wavy hair was kept in a neat little braid even as little strands insisted on rebelling. Her eyes were a beautiful grayish blue, but carried in them an uncharacteristic exhaustion for someone her age.

This was all calculated of course. She had to be beautiful and fair like it was expected of a proper noble lady, but she couldn’t allow herself to look too perfect, or the humans would find her unsettling. It took an experienced hand to craft a face that struck such balance and was still so well suited to the fae that hid behind it.

Satisfied with her work she donned her human clothes - a simple, but charming dress of blue and gold, and a matching shawl to keep her warm - and made her way into the fields beyond.

Her kind had described the city of Atlas as a scar upon the natural world, a hungry parasite starving its host of all it needed to survive as it slowly expanded to consume ever more. The very epitome of all of humanity’s crimes given shape in stone and metal.

She knew these accounts to be true, of course, but standing before it now she found it difficult to not feel awed at the majesty of it all. The city was grand indeed, but to say so felt like an understatement. Grandiose structures rose above the city’s imposing walls and reached towards the sky above. Every inch of them was white marble and polished silver.

And yet it all felt colder than the harshest winter, as if this city was meant to be beheld in awe, not lived in. Every tile, every brick, every unnaturally clean stone, it all declared a single message.

“You’re not welcome here.”

She did what she could to ignore the city beyond and focus her attention on the fields that stretched before her. All around tents and camps were being set, and music could be heard even at such distance. This is what she came here for.

Delicious smells washed over her as she approached the gathering crowds. Many of the smaller camps had brought food from the nations beyond, and prepared their meals around their own campfires, or sold them to passers by, and she was more than happy to purchase quite a few of these unique delicacies.

Around her musicians and artists, from nations all over the world, prepared to perform before what would soon grow to be the largest crowd in all of Remnant. For now they were all street performers, travelling bands, nameless bards, and the occasional trickster claiming to have mastery over the magical arts.

Except some of that magic was very real. Their glamours were good, but no illusion could hide a fae’s true nature from one another. So she saw their faces as clear as crystal and they, in turn, saw hers. They were fae of the seelie courts, living a secret life among the human crowds, and she was the sole unseelie that walked among them.

It was in that moment of distraction, taking in the faces of her fellow fae, that she found herself being pushed aside with considerable force. She turned around, ready to curse whichever fool was responsible for this, only to find a very apologetic looking woman.

The woman in question had dark skin and long curly red hair. Though she wore no armor, her white and green clothes were clearly expensive and finely made. The presence of a staff in her heraldry betrayed her as a Knight of the Winter Maiden.

“My apologies,” the knight blurted out, “are you hurt?”

Something about the way she carried herself made it very hard to stay mad at her.

“I’m well, thank you,” she replied, “but please, do be more careful.”

“I’ll try to,” the knight assured her, before adding, “I don’t believe I have seen you around Atlas before.”

“This is my first time in the kingdom actually,” she lied with ease, “I’m Ilia of the Menagerie Isles.”

“Salutations, Lady Ilia,” the knight beamed as she bowed respectfully before her, “I’m Penny of House Polendina. I would be delighted to show you around the festival grounds, but right now I’m needed for a tournament.”

And with another bow Lady Polendina dashed away with just as little care as before.

Huh, a tournament, she had said? Now that seemed like a good way for Ilia to spend her time.

Said tournament was taking place in the only fully constructed wooden structure around. It was just a simple set of stands with enough space between them to form a somewhat proper arena, but having a proper space to fight in seemed to have gotten many of the knights’ hearts pumping with excitement. So much so that there seemed to be some sort of commotion waiting for her by the entrance.

Multiple men seemed to be arguing with a knight in perfectly white armor, or more accurately shouting at them, since they did not appear to say anything and just tried to make their way around the men and into the arena.

“Lady Schnee!” One of the men called and Ilia froze in her tracks. Years living in the courts around Atlas had left her with a burning hatred for the name Schnee.

With pale skin, and paler hair, the woman who approached them looked like she had been sculpted from a block of ice, and the look on her face was at least as cold as one. Lady Schnee was as severe and uncaring as her name would indicate.

“What is it you want?” She demanded.

“This stranger refuses to take off their helmet, or tell us their name, but they insist on joining the tournament,” the first man explained.

“Do you have reason to deny them entry, or are you simply insistent on wasting everyone’s time?” She said, with a tongue that was twice as sharp as that man’s sword, and thrice as sharp as his wit.

“My lady, the Vytal tournament was created exclusively for nobles and knights,” the other man tried, but a stare from her made him shrink in his armor.

“Do you think me stupid? I know the rules of the Vytal tournament,” she rebuked, “this is not the Vytal tournament, this is an excuse for bored fools to hit each other with swords. If you believe them unworthy of such noble competition, then perhaps you should prove so in the arena, instead of wasting everyone’s time with your pointless pratling.”

With that the men scattered and Lady Schnee made her way back into the arena. Though the white knight’s face remained hidden by their helmet, there was still a sense of amusement with how they held themself after this. Ilia certainly knew who she would be rooting for today.

With that out of the way Ilia joined the crowd by the stands as they watched the knights take turns dueling each other. Neither Lady Schnee, nor Lady Polendina seem to partake in the fighting, though they both took their roles as judges and organizers of the event. Though only Lady Polendina showed any excitement at her role.

Soon enough the duel Ilia had been looking for was about to begin. The white knight versus the loud fool from earlier. While the fool armed himself with a heavy shield and a heavier blade, the white knight seemed to prefer a lighter approach to combat, fighting only with a long and thin sword.

Unfortunately the build up had been much longer than the fight. In but three moves that felt almost like a single fluid motion, the knight had stepped through their foe’s defences, and placed the tip of their sword against his neck. The duel was over, and the crowd sat stunned.

It quickly became clear that no duel would live up to that one today, but that did not mean the crowd could not find entertainment in the matches that followed. Even though the white knight had not shown such swift brutality again, they quickly took the position of crowd favorite as they continued to win duel after duel.

That was until there only stood one soul who had not been bested by their blade. A knight in pure black armor, adorned with valean heraldry, and armed with a pair of shorter blades. Though that knight also hid their face, something about their stance seemed familiar to Ilia.

That sense of dejavu only grew stronger as the duel itself finally began. The swiftness of their movement, the lightness of their feet - even in full armor - the way the twin blades danced around them with ease. Ilia had only known one person who fought like that, but that simply couldn’t be her.

It made no sense.

Distracted as she was by that familiarity, Ilia was caught by surprise by the end of the duel. The knight in black had managed to pierce the white knight’s defense, and had a blade firmly pressed against their neck. The white knight put their blade down and conceded.

The crowd cheered as both knights offered each other a respectful bow and the white knight marched away from the arena.

Lady Polendina hopped and skipped her way to the middle of the arena, gesturing for the crowd to quiet down for a moment.

“It is with great pleasure that I announce the winner of our warm up tournament,” she announced and the black knight took that as their cue to pull their helmet away.

Though the face under it was unquestionably human, and clearly untouched by any magical glamour, there was no doubt in Ilia’s mind as to who she was. That may truly be impossible, but she had only known one woman with golden eyes like those.

“Lady Blake, of the Knights of the Fall Maiden!”

#rwby #prismatic ponytails #bumbleby #nuts and dolts #ilia amitola #weiss schnee #blake belladonna #medieval au #fanfic

33 notes · View notes

thiswasinevitableid · 3 years ago

Note

10 tattoos/piercing, Danbrey, sfw, please!

Here you go! I based Dani's design on an arowana because I liked the color.

“Remember, non-scented soap, nice to meet you, byeee!” Aubrey waves to her client as they head down the boardwalk. She has thirty minutes until her next appointment, so it’s time to stretch her legs and check the little ‘doggy cam” she set up on Dr. Harris Bonkers cage to make sure the giant rabbit hasn’t finally managed to chew his way through the bars.

“Hi doctor” She coos into the phone. One white ear pivots towards the camera, but the bunny remains otherwise unmoved.

She leans on the railing, Pacfic sparkling like a postcard before her.

“Excuse me?”

“YEEEEP!” She jumps back, not expecting a woman to pop out of the water, let alone pop out and talk to her.

“Oops, sorry.” The other woman smiles, golden hair fanning out around her. There are two types of blondes in Long Beach; the ones hoping to be the next influencer sensation and the kind who are excited to tell you about GOOP and crystals.

Whichever kind this woman is, she’s the most gorgeous girl Aubrey’s ever seen.

“Um, can I help you?”

“Yeah! Can you tattoo me? A piercing would be okay too, but I really like how pretty the tattoos are.”

“Thanks. Um, you’re gonna need an appointment.” She pulls out her phone again, since it’s synced to the calendar Joseph makes them all keep, “lemme see....I have a big slot of time on Friday afternoon.”

The girl cocks her head, “That’s two days from now, right?”

“Yep.We can start at one if that works for you?”

“Sure, see you then!” She waves and then disappears under the water. A few moments later, a shimmering golden tail breaks the swell, seeming to wave once before submerging. Aubrey blinks, switches back to the bun cam.

“How do I tell Joseph I have to move my stuff outside to tattoo a mermaid?”

Dr. Harris Bonkers snuffles, but offers no further commentary.

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

“Joseph, for the last time, you are not gonna hang around just to ask my client questions while I’m trying to work.”

“I don’t plan to, but we need to make sure everything, and I mean everything, is as sterile as we can manage. Doing this outside gives me hives as it is.” Joseph finishes setting up the pop-tent, the kind sun-phobic families take to the beach.

“C’mon, people gave each other traditional tattoos out in the open for centuries. It should be fine.”

Joseph makes an unsure noise, but leaves her in peace all the same. Before long a golden tail flashes out of the water as the mermaid swims towards the beach, the closest spot to the pier where they could actually set the tent and generator up. It’s right on the tide line, Duck having used his almanac to tell them whether Aubrey would be chasing the tide or fleeing from it if the appointment turns out to be long.

“Um, hi again.” She waves.

“Hello!” The mermaid slides up into the surf. When she sits up, Aubrey turns pink.

“Uh, do you, uh, want a swimsuit or something?” Her voice is embarrassingly high.

The mermaid looks down, then at Aubrey studiously looking elsewhere, and laughs, “Oh, right, I forgot humans don’t like it when we’re bare-chested.”

“I mean it’s not that we don’t like it-” Aubrey mumbles.

“Be right back.” She pushes back into the sea, returning a minute later wearing a bright green bikini top, “is that better?”

“Yep!” She replies too quickly, “Sorry, I, um, I’ve never worked on a mermaid before, kinda figured you guys wore seashells or sea stars or something?”

“You...you realize where that would put the seastar mouths, right?” The mermaid scoots up onto the beach, tail in the water and back on the inflatable recliner they borrowed from Kirbys apartment.

“Ooohouch, you’re right, fuck, sorry.” She grabs her flash binder, brought in case the mermaid didn’t have a design in mind.

The mermaid glances over her shoulder, smiling, “You’re cute when you blush.”

She maintains her professionalism, but only just, as the mermaid chooses her preferred design; a brightly colored swirl of planets and stars. For a newbie, she barely seems to register the needle, focused instead on studying Aubrey’s face and hands as she works. She learns that her name is Dani, that she’s one of several merfolk living near the pier, and that she’s observed Aubrey and her handiwork courtesy of a rock and a pair of salvaged binoculars.

“Oooh” Dani wiggles her tail happily when she sees the finished product, “it’s perfect, thank you so much Aubrey.”

“Glad you like it-oh, okay.” She stiffens as Dani rubs their cheeks together twice before pulling back.

“I’m supposed to keep it clean right?”

“Yeah, but I’m not sure how well saran wrap will hold up to sea water.”

A formerly empty Rose bottle thunks onto the sand. Dani grabs it, popping the make-shift cork off with her teeth.

“Ooh, Indrid sent me a special covering to keep it safe. And these must be for you.” She holds out two pearls.”

“Thanks” She’s more interested in watching the kissable lips covering razor sharp than the gems the mermaid gives her.

“Can I see you again?” Dani is halfway back in the water.

“Whenever you want. You’re a great client; you, um, you’re really nice to touch. Wait, um, I mean you take it really welllARGH, um, yes please come back.” Aubrey replies, tucking the second most valuable thing on the beach into her pocket and continuing to blush well after Dani has returned to the waves.

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

“AHFUCK!”

“Sorry!” Dani gives a sheepish wave to Duck before turning to Aubrey, who got used to her popping out of the water five times ago, “are you free tomorrow?”

“Sure” even if she isn’t, she’ll happily reschedule another client for Dani’s sake, “do want to pick something from my flash?”

“Nope, this time Indrid designed something. It’s about the same size as this” she holds up the watercolor hermit crab on her right arm, “see you then?”

“Of course.” Aubrey waves goodbye, blows a kiss when Dani is out of sight.

She forgot Duck was still here.

“You got it bad, Lady Flame.”

“Shush, I saw you chatting to Indrid by the coffee shop yesterday.”

“....you can’t prove anythin.”

She holds up her phone, smirking, “Oh yes I can.”

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

“Aubrey!”

She looks up, wondering who’s calling her name on the deserted beach. She brings Dr. Harris Bonkers down here on a leash late at night for enrichment for him and a break from the summer heat for her.

“Aubrey, over here!” Dani leaps through the surf until she;s only able to slide, “I thought it was you. Ohhhhhh” she squeals, “this must be Dr. Harris Bonkers. Hello cutie pie, aren’t you just so lovelyOH, oh he feels like an otter.” She rubs the rabbits head, causing him to creep towards the water, “you’re the second cutest thing on this beach, doctor.” She winks at Aubrey, then sits up, “can I introduce him to Ferdinand?”

Aubrey nods, excited to finally meet Dani’s pet; she only his name, but she’s expecting a seal, or maybe a crab.

What she gets is an octopus. The cephalopod winds a tentacle around her arm, investigating her.

“Aww, he likes you.” Dani sets the octopus down in shallow water, where it proceeds to stretch multiple limbs out to poke Dr. Harris Bonkers.

“Guess they’re having a playdate?” Dani scoots closer, resting her head on Aubrey’s shoulder.

Aubrey sets a hand on her tail, running her fingers up and down the scales as the mermaid sighs happily.

“As long as he doesn’t carry Dr. Harris Bonkers into the tidepools, they can hang out as long as you like.”

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

“Dani? How many tattoos are you planning to get?” Aubrey looks up from where she’s outlining an octopus on Dani’s side.

“I haven’t decided yet. It’s really common for mers to have lots of piercings and tattoos. That’s why Indrid can leave Duck so many expensive tokens; he’s the most in-demand tattoo artist on the coast.”

“Neat! Wait-” she sits up, shutting off the gun, “your friend is a tattoo artist, but you kept coming here?”

“Yes.” Dani is still, save for the end of her tail, which vibrates nervously.

“Why?”

“Um, well, I, I really liked your style. Then I really liked you, and I wanted to keep seeing you…”

“Holy crap, do you keep getting tattoos because you think that’s the only way you’re able to see me?”

“Uhhuh.” Dani is bright pink from her cheeks to her waist as Aubrey scrambles to sit in front of her, “I mean, when you want to date someone, you’re only allowed to see them at their work until they say they want to date you too. Even us meeting on the beach a few weeks ago was pushing it, and I didn’t want you thinking I was pushy.”

“....Huh?”

“Do humans not have that rule?” Dani’s honey-colored eyes widen.

“Nope. It’s actually kinda rude to ask people out at work, because they can’t get away BUT” she hurriedly sets the gun aside, “but I make exceptions for super cute wonderful mermaids.”

“Oh. In that case-” Dani knocks her backwards with her tail and climbs atop her, kissing her so hard she wonders if you can die from a really good make-out session. When the salty kiss ends the mermaid continues peppering her face with kisses and flicking her tongue along her neck.

“Dani I, I’m loving all of this but if you mess up my ink I’m gonna be as annoyed as I can possibly be with a gorgeous mermaid feeling me up.”

“Crap, you’re right.” Dani sits back up, glancing at the half-done tattoo, "I really don't want to ruin your work. Desperate need to see you aside, I do love your style." She folds her hands back into her lap and readjusts onto the inflatable chair.

Aubrey crawls forward, kissing her sweetly, "Once we're done and you're all wrapped up, wanna join me on the beach for a little, um, late night picnic."

A teasing kiss, first to her nose and then to her lips, "I'd love to."

#danbrey #aubrey little/dani #taz amnesty #mermay #mermay fills

29 notes · View notes