#THAT POSE WHERE THEY HOOK THEIR THUMBS UNDER THEIR VEST | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pascalpasta1 · 1 day

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Summary frankie bar tender on palm tree hawi bar female reader is a blonde smart studying veterinary who is woohed over by frankie but he has a bit of reputation in the local area a bit of a player

Warning smut kinky p and v protection fluffy in bites emotion run High drug abuse achol abuse achol play pet names "content king public sex and fingerings and things warning also PTSD

A/w is carrying over from the last chapter she meets him for the first time from the previous chapter. you're going to hate him because he just can't keep it in his pants

18+no mintors is a very hot and steamy

Chapter 3 Baby, I love the way

"Last night felt like one big dream that bar tender frankie I can't get out of my head."Cheeky cockey guy, I was standing under the shower he must have millions of women flocking him every day. No, I don't want to get hurt again from my previous mistakes,"I finished up in the shower , shutting the water off. I wrapped a shower and wrapped it around another sunny day looking out of my window "I grabbed my underwear getting changed into my white vest top and red shorts which hugged my ass "I left My hair naturally dry " and nearly changed throwing my sunglass on my head . I grabbed my tote bag. " Walking out of my room, I heard the others downstairs chatting." I walked down, moring tammy smiled James was on the sofa with her "grace smirk I bet you had a good sleep last night yeah "Lauren smirk frankie where he not here James smirk "I know that "he gone out somewhere okay

"Where are you going? I might just go for a walk, okay babies Lauren's and Grace tammy hugged me be safe okay I got my phone I know " I open the door putting my sunglass down " I started to walk down the hill past the big palm tree "oi I heard a engine "looking up n/a I smirk blushing where you going he was wearing a baby blue open shirt "exposing his sun kiss chest "tonned Abs "he smirk"is this your Scooter yes he park "where you going just for a walk "don't you fancy a ride "I have a helmet

"Is it safe with Me baby cakes you always safe he smirk handing me a black helmet

"I hook my leg and got on "you can erm hold my wasit "oh okay wrapping my hands around his slim waist he start the scooter off "driving down the winding roads "where are we going "you shouted over the engine "he was to focus I am taking you to the local market okay "he drove in the road the market place was busy people walking in the middle off the road "frankie cussing "which was a turn on . He finally parked his scooter. You okay, he held his hand out yeah "he turn to a group of lads. Anyone touch my bike your dead okay sir " me and feankie carried on walking .

"This place is nice, yeah." There were fruit stalls."Try this frankie had a peach in his hand. "These are the best peachers are they try them."He held his hand out, and I took a bite of the peach the juice was dibbling down my chin frankie licked his lips swiping his thumb across my chin "my eyes was fixed on his he smirk dimples popping out either cheeks " hum really good yeah brushing hid noise the next stall I made frankie to try a snapback on "he laugh maybe when i was 21 fratboy hum " know how old are you I smirk sliding my fingers in his 30s ish "he smirk okay maybe i dont loo, in my 30s oh behave tickling his beard can you handle me baby " he smirk placing his hand on ass giving it a squeeze I can handle anything panting his ass frankie "good . Yeah, flirty back .

"He lay down beside each other." it was clam until frankie need to go soon I got changed throwing my short and a tee shirt it went a bit cold frankie walked over to his towel grabbing his tee shirt and hoodie here he held out his hoodie you sure yeah I try it on it was warm" I grabbed my bag we walked back, I smirk what that In your bag "my camera okay he pulls it out and we stopped by the bridge "he smirk pose I did coving my face he took the picture cutie that's I took a picture of him he did a goofy pose "hey he smirk no this is far okay we stopped at the villa road see you tonight okay kissing him by georgues by walking back in the villa how was your date with frankie it wasn't a date "hum sure what the plan for tonight James had Invite us to the plam bar good and frankie there yeah I better get changed okay "they all look at me "and ran upstairs getting changed he makes me excited am I falling for frankie no "spraying My perfume and doing My make up and hair and getting changed in a blue long summer dress I grabbed my clutch bag walking down the stairs someone looks in "thank is it for F no I want to look nice yeah " okay comes on James Is at the bar okay " tammy was in a pink summer dress and Grace was wearing green and Lauren in purple we all took a vokia shot and was ready for the night " walking out we decided to get a tuck tuck van down to the bar becuase we was wearing heels climbing out the bar was booming "walking in lady's "James served us where frankie running late okay we got a booth I couldn't stop looking at the bar"frankie someone shouted there he was In his work top but this time he had a gold chain around his neck "I looked over he smirk "he look like he clean up hair styled a bite" he walked over drinks for you beautiful lady's thank you frankie he smirk and kiss me on the cheek I am glade to see you same I need to get back to making cocktails but meet me after work princess he winked "the rest of the night I didn't see frankie he was busy working, the bar "and half of the group was drunk tammy pulled me up to dance I did swing my hips tammy smirk "are you and frankie a thing no well you been spending time with him and he is so good for you "okay yeah well i don't know

"The rest of the day, we were looking around the market, the music in the street from the street playing my favourite song by the Big Mountain baby. I love the way "please frankie pulling him fine he rolled his eyes " we danced in the street "until the rain was pouring down on use frankie different care his chest was dipping with water drops from the rqin my hair was wet his hair was soaking and messy sticking to his forehead spinning me around just glazes he smirk I like you company he kiss me

laugh and kissed softly until the music was faint "just me and him he kiss me you are beautiful n/a I blushed you too "after dancing we headed back "there was a empty alley way frankie shh he pulled me down the alley was "shh he mumbling into my mouth I need you n/a so fucking much frankie he kissing my neck I moan " shh baby we don't want anyone to hear shh he pulls my earlobe inbween his teeth groan "his hands was above pinned down on the side of my shoulders "he kiss me again "cupping my face my back pressed against the wall " frankie baby it's okay fuck I panted his hands was under my top " massing my tits " his hit breath fuck "he looked his this okay hum" He traveled down to my shorts quickly unbutton "he smirk, I know your wet fuck so perfect I felt him holy fuck I ache my back "he smirk good holy shit yes his fingers was magical fuck baby cum on my fingers he whisped in my ear fuck I did he pull then out good at you he sucks the clean "we better get back, yeah . I button my shorts again walking back to this scooter " I climbed on "he pulls away "I have enjoyed today same " I decided to put my arms up he smirk your a wild one sure "we arrived back, at the island " well see you around "no he smirk we are spending the whole day together okay "meet me at the beach okay see you then I kissed him okay "I walked back in the villa ooo how's frankie okay "I am meeting him at the Beach can we come sure "okay I ran upstairs grabbing my camera and bag getting changed into a binki and flip flops " grabbing my beach things walking down the stairs ready to go okay " grabbing my spear clothers "we all walked down the Beach there was frankie waiting for me "I thought a second you wasn't coming "don't be silly he looked sexy In his red board shorts . Ready what I can going to Learn you how to serf " I can't yes you can grab a board and hit the waves with me okay" I grabbed a board "placing my things down on my towel and picking the board up come on frankie shouted " okay running in the water "right lay the board down okay "I climb on it frankie smirk, your doing well okay "try and stand up I did until I fell frankie caught me "he kiss me you okay there yeah "he smirk watch me he was a natural " I try again wow your doing it " until we was floating on the boads "so have you always serf "yeah well he was kissing me "I just got when in uni until I grow up and it did feel right "yeah hey he pulls me in the water what he picks me up and kiss me "the tanned arms I love this same he splashed water at me hey not far sure he shurrged "picking me up in a bride my arms wrapped around his neck "have you had a good day yes "kissing him good" we both got out of the water putting the boards back, are you working tonight yes "oh come to the bar I like you there "Really sure you he lay on his side drawing circles on my stomach hum he kissed me more "frankie we can't shh we can "if no one looking lay back, okay he bend my knee dipping down fuck I felt his tounge darting out I moaned soflty he pulls up that okay hum yeah

Hum n/a whatever makes you happy yeah you got a point "it was getting late the bar was full of people still "I didn't know where frankie was "hey James where frankie "he has a cingreet out back okay "I am sure he once 'to see you yeah I walked behind the bar I couldn't find him until I stepped out fuck "I looked frankie was fucking some chick he didn't see me my heart felt wripped out "I can't belive I trust him "I am stupid walking back in did you find him James smirk "yes and he is busy okay " I walked over to my table downing vokia you okay yeah until I see the snake tucking his belt and top in he look over I couldn't look him can we leave sure ain't you going to see frankie no "what's up I am just tried "hey frankie walked over I am going back, so soon I wanted more time it's okay he looked kissing me on the forehead "bye walking back to the villa good night wasn't it yet "whats up frankie was having sex with some girl cheated we are not togther he can do what he once to "I am going to bed "I am sorry the rest of the hoilday No frankie climbing into bed why did I trust him ......

#Spotify #summerfling #true feelings #frankie morales x reader

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queen-scribbles · 4 years

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Taking Initiative

Sooooooo this was fun to write ;D Another technically sfw one. Technically.

...I think.

---

It proved much easier than expected to get the time alone they wanted after Belsavis. All it took was what some might consider a tiny abuse of power on Jorgan’s part when they stopped on Nar Shaddaa to refuel. ‘Mandatory downtime’ he called it as he effectively kicked the rest of Havoc off the ship.

‘Ridiculously overdue’ is what Keme would have called it, and she bit back an expectant grin as she finished cleaning her blaster carbine and stowed it where it belonged. “Turning them loose on Nar Shaddaa? You sure that’s a good idea?”

Jorgan shrugged as he closed the various weapons racks. “Way I see it, the only real risk is Vik remembering what he liked about this place and not coming back. Some R and R will do them all some good.” He leaned against the nearest gun locker and smirked at her. “And I figured some time alone would do us some good.”

“You did, huh?” She let out that grin as she mirrored his pose in the doorway. “I like a man who takes initiative-”

The armory wasn’t big, and he crossed it in two strides to pin her against the wall with a kiss. His fingers dug into her hair, hers curled around the lapels of his vest, and both pulled in an instinctive gasping breath when they parted.

“How’s that for initiative?” Jorgan murmured, voice so low it was almost a growl.

“Very promising,” Keme breathed with an even wider grin, her hands creeping higher on his collar to yank him in for another. This kiss likewise broke with a harsh breath, their chests heaving and hearts pounding mere centimeters from each other. Much as she was enjoying their current position, the heat building in her chest galvanized her to maintain one hand’s grip on his collar and kiss him to pull along with her as she shifted off the door frame and backed toward her cabin.

This time the low sound rumbling in his throat was definitely a growl.

They skirted the holoterminal, his vest and her belt dropping to the floor in the process, but walking backwards had Keme’s aim off and she backed into the wall next to her door rather than through the doorway. She growled impatiently at finding it closed and groped for the door controls. Shucked her jacket as the door hissed open, tossing the garment away without a care where it landed. Pivoted around the edge of the doorway, pushed off it as Jorgan’s hands slid under her shirt.

His fingers settled over the scar just above her hip, and while she didn’t flinch, there was just the barest catch to her breath and movements as she tugged at the clasp for his belt, the thought pressing in. He’s going to see...

Faint as the reaction was, he still noticed, and huffed a laugh that ghosted past her ear. “Told you you should’ve stayed in the bacta tank a little longer,” he murmured, shifting his hand away from her souvenir of Belsavis.

She shook her head and rested her temple against his jaw. “That one’s not a problem,” she whispered, which was mostly true. The ugly scar was still a little tender and was definitely not going to fade any more on its own, but it wasn’t enough to stop this. The other ones, though...

He started to ask, but his hand’s new position left it resting directly over one of the older scars, and he stilled. A moment passed before, “Already seen ‘em,” rumbled into her hair around a soft kiss.

Keme gave a small smile--slightly bitter, because he couldn’t see it--and pressed a light kiss to his jaw. “Not all of them.” Most, maybe, especially after that fight with the Gamorrean, but not all. Time to change that. She kissed his jawline again, then stepped back just enough to strip off her shirt.

Jorgan’s hands tightened fractionally on her hips as his ice-blue gaze ran over the full extent of the narrow ridges interspersed with the dark stripes that already patterned her fur. Shoulders to waist, front and back, deliberately cut to end slightly further in than the actual stripes. He gave her a wordless look and pressed a lingering kiss to the highest scar on her right shoulder.

Keme backed into the door frame for support again, eyes sliding closed as she let out a groan that bordered on a purr and her hands curled into fists so tight she could feel her nails indenting her palms.

Jorgan caught her eye when he straightened. “They don’t bother-”

“I didn’t think they would,” she cut him off, the words hitching as he mirrored the kiss on her left shoulder. “I’m not so much self-conscious about them as I hate the reactions from most people when they learn where they came from.”

He met her gaze, head tilted in curiosity, but didn’t push. Clearly, initiative for how much--if any--she shared was hers for the taking--or leaving.

It made her love him even more.

Drawing a deep breath, still uneven from their nearness, Keme gently rested her hands at his elbows and steered them to sit on the edge of her bed. She left her hands where they were, thumbs rubbing light circles against his arms as she dove in.

“I grew up a slave.” For most people that would be enough, and all they got. But Aric Jorgan was not most people. Not to her. “Born into it, actually. My parents were owned by Seven Brothers, a Rattataki-run syndicate almost no one’s heard of because they propped up the Hutt they used to work for as a figurehead so they could operate in the shadows. Name a vice, they deal in it. My parents worked in one of the mine processing centers for their front business; hard work, but not brutal enough to prevent starting... starting a family.”

Jorgan shifted when her voice caught and Keme slid her hands down to clasp with his as she continued.

“They had me. Then twins, girl and a boy, little over a year later. ‘Nother boy few years after that. Chronic runaways, the lot of us.” She snorted. “Dunno what they expected from Cathar slaves, really. My first real try was when I was nine, with my dad on his fourth. We got caught before we even made it off-planet, I got these” --she freed a hand to run her thumb along one of the scars that hooked back from the corners of her mouth--”and he got sold. Second time I was fourteen and it was with my sister. She went down fighting when they caught us, took one of the founding Brothers with her. Me... They decided there were better ways to make an example of me than as a corpse. Put the dead brother’s wife in charge of punishing me, and she made sure I knew how much she enjoyed herself as she killed my mother and brothers.”

He pulled a sharp breath, but she squeezed his hands before he could say anything.

“That was just the start; the payment for her husband. For running away... she made a show of informing me I was a troublemaker, always had been. Some might think I always would be; there’s that saying about nexu not being able to change their stripes. However, she'd never believed that saying was true.”

This time Jorgan slipped a hand free, running it down from her shoulder through the curve of her hip, his thumb brushing over the meticulous scarred ‘stripes’ between the natural ones. A shiver rippled down her spine as if following his touch.

“My third try was two years later, from the cage where they kept me, first chance I got. Actually made it this time. The Republic picked me up after the ship I’d stolen ran out of fuel, and well,” she gestured at the cabin. “Here I am.” It hadn’t been as easy as all that, but she didn’t want to spend more time on her past than she had to. Especially when they had the ship to themselves and the intensity in Jorgan’s eyes was doing things to her.

His hand lingered on her hip, thumb rubbing back and forth along one of her actual stripes, and he was quiet for a long moment. “Exactly what reaction do you usually get that makes you flinch at the thought?”

“Pity,” Keme said with a sigh. “People see the scars, and whether or not they hear I was a slave I get pitying looks and their body language screams ‘oh you poor thing’. I hate it.”

“I would, too,” Jorgan muttered. He withdrew his hand to curl around hers again. “For the record, that’s not what I think.”

She cocked her head and waited for him to elaborate.

“They don’t say ‘poor thing’ to me. They say you made it through a hell doing its best to crush the fire out of you. That you survived. And that’s incredible and admirable more than anything els-”

She kissed him, leaning so far into it she started to push up on her knees, let it linger until her lungs burned before resting her forehead against his as a breathless “Thank you,” whisked past her lips.

Jorgan chuckled, ran his thumbs over her knuckles before letting go of her hands to brace against the bed. “I aim to please, boss.” The mirth faded into sincerity. “And I meant it, Keme.”

He’d never used her name before, and her breath caught sharp at the way he said it, gentle and warm and strong, and she cupped his jaw with both hands to kiss him again.

They almost toppled backwards, but he shifted to keep them upright. She scooted forward to straddle his lap, and his arm curled around her waist to pull her close as this kiss kept going, repeatedly half-broken for air, but never fully interrupted until Jorgan leaned back to pull his shirt off.

Keme barely registered when the black tank top tangled and pooled around his wrist as that hand braced against the bed again. Her attention was caught by the scar across his chest, lower left ribs to right armpit, ugly and ragged-edged, especially in the middle. She couldn’t stop the soft gasp, or instinctive brush of her fingertips along the edges until she was halfway down. “What...?”

“Too close to an artillery misfire,” Jorgan said, covering her hand with his. “Not as bad as it looks, I got treated by a medic who was barely more than an intern, so it scarred worse than it might’ve.” He smirked and shifted their hands slightly to the side so she could feel his heart pounding under her palm. “ Way I see it, I didn’t wind up dead, so who cares if it’s not pretty.”

Keme laughed softly. “The things we suffer in the line of duty...”

He snorted a chuckle in response. “And yet, somehow, the permanent reminder some idiot on my own side didn’t know how to calculate a damn targeting algorithm counts as a mark of bravery.” He pressed his hand closer over hers. “Which means yours should, too. Even more than this does.”

Her fingers curled slightly. “Why?”

“This was friendly fire, wrong place, wrong time, an accident. These” --He shook his hand free of his shirt and cupped her cheek, thumb tracing along the scar. “All of them, aren’t cause for pity. They say you’re tough as hell for surviving what you did, Keme.”

Her heart did a somersault, and she felt his speed up under her hand as she pressed closer to whisper, “Say it again.”

He chuckled and kissed the hollow of her throat. “You’re tough as hell.”

“No.” She paused a moment, bit her lip as she reached back to nudge off her boots. “The other part.”

She could feel his grin against the curve of her neck. “Keme?”

Heat flared in the pit of her stomach and she gave a soft growl as she tipped his chin up for an insistent, greedy kiss. “Again, Aric,” she mumbled against his lips.

His growl was louder, verging on a purr, as his hand slid up the back of her head to tangle in her hair. “Keme.”

She exhaled a shaky breath and scraped her teeth over his lower lip before claiming another kiss that finally unbalanced them to fall back on the bed with a laugh.

-o-

They traded off kissing each others’ scars--there were plenty to choose from on both parts-- which led eventually to kissing everywhere. Jorgan didn’t even flinch when he found the brand on her hip; seven-point star over a chevron burned into her skin. (It took a few tries, but Keme managed not to flinch when her toes brushed the cold metal that was his left calf now; a forever reminder she’d almost lost him.)

It was, by the end of it, a thoroughly good use of their time. After all, there was no telling how long the alone-ness would last. And once gone, it would likely be a very long while before they got more, given the state of the galaxy.

“Well,” Keme laughed, grinning contentedly up at the ceiling as she tried to catch her breath. “That was...”

“Productive?” Stars, he sounded smug. She rolled her eyes and lazily swung her closer arm to smack his chest. He caught it and kissed the back of her hand.

“I was gonna go with relaxing,” she retorted as her toes curled. “But we can use your word.”

He chuckled and kissed the back of her wrist. “Both are good, I think.” Kissed just below her elbow. “Fun works, too.”

She snorted a shaky laugh. “Oh, there’s a lot of words for how good that was, Aric.” The next kiss fell halfway up her bicep and she bit her lip. “Mmh... despite my near-derailment via summarized tragic backstory.”

“Hey.” He kissed her shoulder. “I wanted time for the two of us. While this was what I had in mind--and worth it, by the way--if we’d wound up talking, that would have been good, too.” Kissed the juncture of shoulder and neck. “It’s you I wanted, whatever form that took.”

She turned her head and met him for the kiss she knew was coming, rolled with him when he pulled back so her chin rested on his chest. “Mm, good answer.” She kissed the center of his chest and lightly ran her fingers along the lower half of the scar. “You’ll have to abuse your authority to empty the ship so we can do this again sometime, Captain.”

He smirked in response to her teasing tone. “Oh, no, no, no.” He sat up, pulling her with him, and cupped one hand around the back of her head for another kiss. “Next time’s your turn, Major.”

She giggled against his mouth and kissed him again. “Deal.”

Jorgan leaned fractionally into the kiss before pulling away and sliding out of bed.

“Hey.” Keme grabbed his wrist to halt his progress. “Where’re you going?”

He shot her an amused look. “I need my clothes,Keme.”

“I don’t recall saying you could leave,” she commented, the faux-reprimand undermined by a snicker as she playfully tugged his arm.

Jorgan chuckled and braced one knee against the edge of the bed as he leaned back in. “Apologies, sir,” he drawled, tucking her hair behind her ear. He leaned his forehead against hers. “Permission to locate my clothes, sir? I don’t imagine we have too much longer before Dorne, at least, has had her fill of ‘relaxing’ and we’re not alone anymore. Sir.”

“Permission granted,” Keme sighed with only partially faked reluctance as she let him go. “Though if I know Elara half as well as I think I do--if she knows me half as well as I think she does--she’s well aware the likely motivation behind their ‘mandatory downtime’ and she’ll take her sweet time getting back.” She tented her knees and rested her chin atop them as she watched him crisscross her cabin for various pieces of his wardrobe. “Don’t think she’s the one we need to worry about.”

“Yeah?” He shimmied into his pants, dropped hers--and her bra--on the foot of the bed. “Who is the one to worry about? And where the blazes is my shirt?”

Keme laughed and dug the shirt out from the tangled sheets. “Here.” She tossed it to him. “And my credits are on Vik running into someone who wants to kill him and figuring the ship is safe turf.” She reached for the clothes he’d found and followed his example getting dressed. There, at least, he had a point. They had to be reaching the final dregs of their time alone. “Next time we’ll have to figure a way to guarantee a nice long stretch of privacy that’ll end on our terms,” she sighed as she stood up, toes curling against the cold metal floor. “Maybe somewhere with a real bed. And carpet.”

He tugged her back by her hips until she hit his chest and kissed her shoulder. “I like the way you think. Keme.”

She bit her lip and tilted her head back for a kiss despite the awkward angle. “Glad you approve. Aric. Can’t make you take all the initiative when it comes to dates.”

He chuckled and kissed the top of her head before letting her go. “Seems fair.”

They finished putting themselves back together and had just moved in the direction of finding menial and innocuous things to do when the holo beeped an alert the hanger elevator was in use. They paused en route to the armory to check.

“Looks like we had good timing,” Jorgan deadpanned.

Keme snorted a laugh as she tapped on the camera feed. “And like we were both wrong. Though I can’t really say I’m surprised,” she conceded, watching Forex trundle across the hanger toward the ship ramp. “Can’t be much to entertain him when he’s not allowed to shoot Imps.”

She heard the snicker Jorgan tried to bite off as he looked over her head. “True.” He squeezed her shoulder and ducked into the armory. Keme tapped off the cameras and followed suit. At least Forex was the least likely to get nosy about how they’d spent their downtime.

By the time the Thunderclap’s door slid open to admit the droid, Jorgan was busy with ammo inventory and Keme was perched cross-legged atop one of the shorter gun lockers working on her datapad.

“Hey, Forex,” she called at the first clanging steps toward the main cabin.

“Greetings, Major, Captain,” Forex replied enthusiastically, making his way toward his usual spot in the briefing room. “I hope you found the downtime as enjoyable as the rest of us, despite remaining shipboard.”

Keme cleared her throat, shared an amused look with Jorgan. “Yeah, it was, um, productive.”

“And relaxing,” Jorgan chipped in. She nudged his shoulder with her foot and got a smirk in reply.

“Excellent!” the droid effused, completely missing everything outside the words. “It only benefits the Republic for its top soldiers to be better prepared for action.”

“Couldn’t agree more,” Keme called after him, shooting a wink at Jorgan. “We’ll have to make sure we do it again sometime.”

And they would, she promised herself as her company distracted her from her datawork approximately every ten seconds, whatever initiative she had to take to make it happen.

Preferably soon.

#queens fic #kementari rand #aric jorgan #keme/jorgan #otp: got your back #(yaya there's an otp tag now)#god i love them so much #this was SO FUN

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pinewreaths · 7 years

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Inseparable, Part Two

The second part of the first story of Angstmas 2017! The first part is here.

“Hiya bro-bro. What’d I miss?”

Mabel had given him her brace-filled grin, then shivered in the cool damp of the cavern. The green fire that has surrounded her had faded, and with it the surge of supernatural warmth had fled as well. Dipper quickly pulled off his vest, offering it to his sister as she shrugged it over her bare form.

His vision was blurred, but it was still her. The same smile, same chestnut locks, same dimples, and same voice. It was beyond belief, impossible even, but he and his sister had seen countless impossible things last summer: Dipper’s faith in the unknown had been nothing if not strengthened, and now kneeling before him was a miracle made flesh.

She was back.

He reached out to cup her face, but had to bite back a grimace of frustration as his hand shivered violently upon contact. He thought it was nerves, and although he could feel the warmth beneath the pad of his thumb as he rubbed it under her chin, it was also unexpectedly cool, as if the surface of her skin was ice that mingled with the heat of her vitality beneath. He forced his arm to settle, the sensation growing as familiar as he could remember as her twinkling eyes met his.

“Dip. Dipper, I...I was alone.” She grew quiet for a moment, and her lip pouted at the edge of a quaver before she drew a slow, careful breath. “I...did I...die?”

He tried looking everywhere but at her questioning face, but finally forced himself to meet her gaze and nodded. She shivered, and scooched an inch towards her brother across the dirt of the cavern floor. He could see her lift her head, her gaze sweeping across the smudged and ruined edges of the ritual circle she had been reborn within.

“You...wow, Dip, did you cast a spell or something?” Her voice grew playful, tinged with an edge of admiration. “A little high-power hocus-pocus?” She giggled, and the infectious sound caused Dipper to chuckle as well.

“Something like that.” No reason to cause her to worry over a little grave desecration; at this point it was moot, and simply a sad patch of dirt rather than her final resting place.

She grinned, and leaned over to give him a kiss on the cheek. It lingered, the warmth of her breath causing the hairs on his neck to stand erect, and he Sighed with both happiness and disappointment as she withdrew.

It was then, as they looked into each-other’s eyes, joy and relief filling his heart, that Soos’ voice echoed down the elevator shaft.

“Uh, dood? I, uh, I dunno if you’re down here or what, but, uh, Mister. Stan and his bro are back!”

Dipper groaned, but slowly got to his feet, offering Mabel a hand up. She took it, her grip like iron despite the weakness he had anticipated from her resurrection. He had known his Grunkles were coming back, but this was a day or two early. Likely they had meant to surprise him, to try and take his mind off his moping, but Dipper again felt like he was looking into a snowglobe of how others expected him to feel.

Instead, he felt lighter than air, suffused by a relief and laughter within his chest that he hadn’t felt since before he lost her. They expected him to be despairing when he felt like this? Dipper didn’t know if he could hide the newfound elation he felt at feeling his sister’s hand in his, or if he even cared to in the first place.

“C’mon, Mabes. Let’s get you a change of clothes.” He guided her to the elevator, to Ford’s study where Dipper knew they had left an emergency supplies stash for Weirdmageddon. Sure enough, the cache remained, and while musty the clothes still fit just fine. Mabel did a little twirl, restored to her favorite style of skirt and a white sweater with grey striping on the sleeves. The futuristic font on the front spelled out Lincoln Six Echo, some boy band she probably had obsessed over that had mingled with the countless others.

Clenching her hand as tightly as he dared, they rode the elevator to the top, and approached the back of the cracked-open vending machine doorway. Stan’s belly laughter could be heard, followed belatedly by some sort of lecturing tone from Ford. There was something Soos and Melody said, and the mingled laughter of their Grunkles came a moment later.

Dipper reached the door, pushing it open a foot. Melody and Soos had their backs to the shop, but Ford immediately noticed the movement and caught Dipper’s eye.

Then his gaze shifted to directly behind Dipper, and he froze.

Melody must have noticed, because she went to follow his gaze when Ford barked out an order, loud and harsh with the expectation and implied threat that it be followed immediately and without fail.

“Eyes on me-eyes on me NOW!” Melody’s head snapped back to face him, and Soos did as well. Face still straight ahead, Dipper could see him whisper something to his girlfriend out the side of his mouth, and she muttered something back. Soos shrugged, and Dipper could see Stan come in from the hallway.

Then he caught sight of the twins, and with barely any delay had already resumed his smooth-talking conman air as Ford just stood and stared, a vein bulging slightly on his forehead.

“All right, kiddos, special treat on us: a week of vacation, pro bono! We’ll cover the shop and all, so no reason to drag your feet, eh?” He had already maneuvered behind the couple, and with a forceful hand on their shoulders he was marching them to the front door.

Dipper could hear a faint “But what about some luggage, Mr. Pines?” Stan casually dismissed it with a wave, managing to keep the waving hand applying steady forward force as he did, and said “Ah the heck with it, kid. Luggage is overrated; here, treat yourself to some new duds and go have fun and whatever.”

A crumpled fistful of bills was crammed into Soos’ coat pocket, but Dipper could see his pace slow in confusion. Stan was never the type to give away money, and instead usually the smallest pittance had to be obtained through hook, crook, or a reliably tough set of pliers.

Soos started to turn, muttering “Mister Pines, are you ok? Something just seems not right about this whole-”

The pictures on the wall shuddered as Stan’s arm slammed against the doorframe. He was in a pose of casually leaning against the now-cracked wood, but the congenial tone in his voice held an edge of violence.

“Scram, kids.” There was a pause as he met Dipper’s stare, his expression unreadable. “Trust me on this.”

He pulled the door shut behind the turned back of his former assistant, and had crossed the living room to stand next to his brother a moment later. Stan made a motion to move towards them, but Ford held out a hand and shook his head.

Instead, Stanford turned to Dipper, his voice carefully level.

“Dip, I need you to tell me exactly what you did.”

A rushed explanation, given haste by excitement, pride, and guilt, proceeded to tumble out and fill the dusty air of the souvenir shop. Stan watched with dull suspicion, his eyes darting from Dipper, to his revived sister, to his brother, and back, as if he was a predator assessing an ambushed deer.

Ford, however, had none of the same poker face. His expression shifted only a little, but Dipper had studied his every move and expression at every opportunity after he had arrived last summer. To him, Ford’s shock, horror, and something akin to fury passed by in equal measure. The first two Dipper had expected, but not the third.

As he mentioned the lightning, the last rumble of the passing storm buzzed the windowpanes, and Ford broke the silence.

Dipper was surprised when he didn’t address him.

“Stan, knife.”

In quick succession there was a thump as Stan’s heavy seaboot thumped up onto a stool and in the same motion a sliver of silver flashed out from his hand, in a lazy arc to Ford.

He caught it without hesitation, the blade almost appearing in his hand as Stan pulled his pant leg back down. Dipper could see engravings along the bone handle, but most of all his mind was focused on how Ford was striding over to Mabel, who took a worried step backwards.

Ford’s hand shot out, gripping Mabel as he said in a terse voice “I just need to check something.”

The knife flashed, and Dipper’s breath caught in his throat, but then there was another flicker as the blade was returned to Stan, and Mabel just let out an indignant “Ow.”

Peering around his Grunkle’s back, Dipper could see Ford had made a half-inch cut along the side of one of her fingers. He was squeezing it carefully, and Dipper could hear him murmuring “c’mon, don’t be green, don’t be green.”

Instead, nothing emerged. The cut was deep enough to see the redness below, but not so much as a single drop of blood welled forth. Ford let go of her hand, taking a long and contemplative breath as Mabel glowered and stuck the wounded digit in her mouth for a moment before pulling it out to look at it.

“Well, she’s not the shapeshifter at least,” Ford said, and then snorted through his nose. “‘Course, something else is wrong that I don’t think you accounted for, Dipper.”

Stan’s voice cut in unexpectedly. “She’s undead, kid. No pulse, no life. Not really.” His voice was thick as he asked pleadingly “Dipper, did you even read the warnings?”

Dipper’s suspicions, already curling around his gut despite his fleeting optimism attempting to tamp them down, flared to the forefront.

The icy skin. The revulsion to touch. The quietness.

The last one caught him off-guard, but even his subconscious had noticed that his sister had said barely a dozen words since she had risen. That certainly wasn’t like Mabel, as the moment an opening in a conversation appeared, she had an almost-biological inability to do anything other than fill the waiting void.

Dipper could feel Stan’s questioning, pleading look on him, and he shook his head, letting out a squeaked “no.” His Grunkle cleared his throat, saying in a bit clearer voice “Yeah, well, I figured as much. There’s a reason I know what the warnings say.”

Ford’s head shot up at this; with Dipper forgotten for a passing moment, his voice was equal parts hurt and confusion. “Stanley, whatever do you mean? You saw me pulled through, body and spirit and all. A resurrection spell wouldn’t have had anything to work with, and would have just-”

Now it was Stan’s turn to turn towards his brother, a single finger waving warningly. “Stanford, you numbskull, it was Twenty. Damn. Years. You had gone through a portal, to only god knows where in the multiverse. Sure, I was able to find where you had disappeared to, but how was I supposed to know I was going to get anything back through than a half-eaten corpse, a charred skeleton, a mangled-”

He cut off with a glance towards the younger twins, sighing as the frustration drained out of his posture. “I’m just saying, I wanted to cover the eventualities.” Ford nodded, but turned to give a worried look towards Mabel. Stan grunted with affirmation.

“And let me tell you, that’s not an eventuality I wanted.”

Dipper’s voice was unsteady, and he felt like the ground was collapsing beneath him as he gripped Mabel’s hand. “W-what do you mean?” She returned the grip, but it was too strong, and the chill was giving his entire arm goosebumps.

Ford’s voice was kind, reassuring, but carrying a weight of sadness Dipper had rarely heard from him. “Dipper, have-have you tried talking with her-with Mabel for any length?”

Blinking away tears, Dipper shrugged. “I mean, I don’t know? We talked when she first came back, said she thought she had died, that she had-”

He cut off what he was saying as he noticed Stan had returned from where he had stepped out to rummage through a hall closet. He had a set of items in his hands, and Dipper’s breath caught as he saw them.

It was a ball of pink yarn, and a pair of knitting needles.

He recognized them from last summer, and now more than ever Dipper wanted to smack them out of Grunkle Stan’s grip, scatter them across the floor and let them be forgotten.

Instead, he felt a mounting feeling of dread as Mabel cautiously took the yarn and needles. She turned them over in her hands, and Dipper could feel his remaining willpower shatter as he heard her voice crack.

“I...I don’t know how to do this.”

Dipper’s head shot up towards Ford as he had a sudden thought. “Maybe she just needs time to-” before Stan stepped to interject.

“Dipper, the warnings, the damn warnings said what this is: these aren’t her memories.”

“They’re yours.”

Dipper turned to look at Ford, as he sighed and removed his glasses to rub the bridge of his nose. “B-but the fawn?” he said, hoping his Grunkle might have possibly, hopefully, impossibly been wrong about this.

Ford coughed, rubbing his hand on his neck. “Well, you see, the fawn lived, but it had my memories of it’s...fawn-ness.” Dipper cocked his head, not understanding, and trying to not look at his sister’s futile attempts to fumble a line of yarn out between two needles and form anything but an ugly knot.

She always made it look so easy…

Ford took a breath and began again. “Dipper, I’m an extradimensional physicist, not a biologist. It thought the Shack was its home; I didn’t know where its den was!” His voice rose, a tinge of defiance against the guilt beginning to color the story. “I shooed it away time and again, but each time it returned, weaker than the next. I had never raised a deer, didn’t know the first thing about feeding it.”

His eyes rose to meet his nephew’s. “After the fact, a baby mammal drinking milk had made sense, but at the time of the ritual I had never given it that much thought. I had assumed they ate grass and leaves and greenery. I had always assumed that...”

He trailed off, and Dipper looked over at his sister as tears of frustration fell on the discarded heap of yarn and needles. I had always assumed that I’d never need to pay attention to a detail like that.

Ford’s gaze dropped as Stan put a comforting hand on his shoulder. “I did my best to feed it once I realized it wasn’t going away, but it wouldn’t take to being bottle-fed. Out of desperation I tried using leaves of a head of lettuce; it ate them, but nutritionally it was useless to a week-old fawn.” He took another long pause. “She died after a few days short of two weeks after I raised her.”

He met Dipper’s horrified gaze. “I don’t think Mabel’s going to starve, but the same problem persists. She’s formed from your memories, not hers.”

Dipper began to shake his head, a fervent hope that disbelief could resolve the crisis and set everything right and just the way he had hoped for if he just shut out all else and-

He was shocked from his mantra as Grunkle Stan gripped him by the shoulders and shook him. “Damn it, Dipper, look at me. Look at this.”

He turned towards Mabel, tears still glittering on her rosy cheeks as Stan’s hand kept Dipper’s shoulder in a vice grip. “Mabel, sweetie, what’s your favorite boy band?”

She chuckled, and gave them finger guns. “Man, Sev’ral Timez; what else?” A moment later she gave him a playful glare and muttered “I still can’t believe you wouldn’t let me keep one of them.”

Stan shook his head. “They’d make a helluva mess on the carpet, and besides I-” He stopped, shook his head with a sigh, and then said “Okay then, kiddo, what’s your second-favorite boy band?”

You could have heard a pin drop.

Again, Dipper wracked his mind for any time she had told him the name of a band she liked, but they all flowed together in a stream of frosted tips, crooning, and snapped fingers. Sev’ral Timez had only stood out thanks to their escapades in rounding up the feral cloned escapees, but the rest?

It was a blank.

His point had been made, but Stan continued. “Okay then, next question: what’s your favorite candy?”

Mabel had been eyeing both him and Dipper with a hurt look of suspicion, but at this she perked back up. “Duh. Smile Dip!”

Ford started, and in a questioning tone he started to say “Wait, wasn’t that banned in the-” before his brother cut him off.

“So what flavor is Smile Dip?”

Ford opened his mouth again, but then shut it and waited. There was another agonizing pause, and in a questioning tone Mabel just said “...Pink Glitter?”

Stan just let out a snort through his nose and looked to Dipper. “I get the picture,” he said to his Grunkle. “Please; no more.”

Stan nodded and took a respectful step back as Dipper stepped over to hug Mabel. There was a long pause, disturbed only by another rumble of thunder from the distance. Then Ford broke the silence.

“There...may be another possibility.” He leaned forward and murmured in Dipper’s ear, before leaning back. He glanced at Stan, who was clearly curious but decided save the questions for later; the glance held a sad memory, and then it was passively neutral once more.

“Did you need me to bring anything from upstairs? Old notebooks, personal effects, that sort of thing?”

Dipper’s mind was racing, but kept looping around to a single, blazing outcome.

“No,” he said, and summoned the effort for a smile. Then hugging Mabel into another embrace, he led her by the hand back towards the hidden elevator.

Before he clicked shut the vending machine, Dipper managed to draw on the effort for another reassuring smile, and said “Thank you.”

Then the door was shut, the emergency lights leading the way as they returned to Ford’s abandoned study. Dipper made his way to the desk his Grunkle had mentioned, pushed the cap of the one golden pen in a cup full of black ballpoints into a specific knothole on the side, and caught the velvet-wrapped item that slipped out from a panel as it slid backwards.

Mabel had taken a seat on one of the old swivel chairs, and was nervously bouncing her knee up and down. Carefully, Dipper unwrapped the velvet, revealing a dusty but intact memory gun.

“You could try again,” Ford had whispered into his ear. “Try to set it right, get every memory you can into there, as best as you can remember, focusing this time so you don’t leave anything out.”

Dipper had nodded, but his own memory screamed at him about the foolishness proposed.

I can’t knit, or purl, or even sew, let alone make another one of her sweaters like I remember. I can’t cook, and could probably burn a salad let along make her amazing sugar cookies we had the Christmas before last. I can’t laugh like she can, let alone replicate her sense of humor and make the entire classroom laugh like we did in fourth grade Geography that fall. I can’t love like she could, the love she had for random strangers and animals and pets like Waddles or Gomper, the ability to walk into a room and have a dozen new penpals by the time she walked out. I just can’t bring that back.

“Dipper?” Her voice was worried at his silence, but he just patted her reassuringly on the shoulder and kissed the top of her head.

“No worries Mabes. Everything’s gonna get fixed here in a second.”

He could see her shoulders slump slightly as he gently clicked the oiled dial to >ALL<.

“Hey, Mabel?”

“Yeah?”

“What do you like best about me?”

She giggled a little as he pulled off a post-it note from the stack by the pen cup, and scrawled a note on it before adhering it to the side of the gun.

“Well, I like that you’re smart, that you’re good at puzzles and decrypting codes, that you totally do not sneeze like a kitten, and…”

The pause lasted for a long while, and Dipper gently prompted her. “And?”

“And you love your sister more than anything else in the world, and she loves you back just as much.” She giggled. “How was that?”

Dipper smiled, blinking away the tears as he charged up the memory gun. “That was great. J-just...just focus on those memories, all right?”

She nodded. Dipper grinned through his tears, raising up the memory gun to read the writing on the side:

Destroy this gun before anyone can stop you.

Then he raised the glowing bulb to his temple, and the world went white.

Prompt from @noneatnonedotcom: for angstmas mabel dies in an acident dipper is unwilling to let her go and after a year of trying sucsessfuly brings her back. mabel is quite literaly alive again dipper wouldn't settle for less but the rest of the pines family and gravity falls at large belive he's lost his mind and the mabel he's brought back is nothing more then a corpse animated by magic. can the twins survive the hatred of the people they love?

#angstmas #angstmas 2017 #pinecest #wreathfic #drabble #pinescest #pinecest fanfiction

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