#finally making a pinned post xo
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Hi! I'm Crow and I run Crowlines. My passion is making bright, colorful, and fun size-inclusive clothing and accessories that frequently feature animals, fruit, stars, and flowers! I'm best known for my array of button up shirts, especially my pride collection, as well as my silly graphic tees. My utmost wish is to bring comfort and joy with what I make.
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✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄ being wrapped in your arms feels like coming home ⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
wc: 1,820
minors / ageless blogs / blank blogs - do not interact.
notes: here is a little drabble in honor of toji's birthday! this piece was originally titled as "adoration" but I changed it to this instead. I'm taking a small posting break, but I'll be back to my regular schedule within a week! I'm sorry if I haven't been responding to tags or messages, but I will do so soon <3 I hope you're all having a wonderful time and I'm sending all my well wishes out to you! xo
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ tags: widow toji; age gap (reader is 30 while toji is in his early 40s); a little angsty; toji attempting to break up with you but failing because he's oh so in love
toji overstayed his welcome which was only supposed to last the scorching heat of summer, but he found himself lingering through the quiet stillness of fall. winter came in with a brisk chill and gloomy skies, and that's when toji knew it was time for him to end things with you.
he’s lost interest far quicker in previous relationships. they served their purpose of healing over the wound in his heart, of soothing away the ache of loneliness. he oftens forgets that he was once a loyal, loving husband whenever he abandons yet another fling.
the difference, however, is he at least had the guts to verbally cut things off before.
fucking pathetic, he thinks as he scolds himself. he's been a coward, reducing his actions to disappearing before the sunlight peeks through the horizon, and avoiding any chance of waking you up. he ensures that he is never there to see the way your brows furrow with concern when your hand meets the cold pillow, because otherwise he would falter in his attempt to escape.
this has been going on for over two weeks now but last night was the first time you've actually snapped at his cold, detached behavior. he approached the argument with nonchalance to wither you down, shrugging off the gnawing feeling in the pit of his stomach and then walking out halfway through the fight.
he stayed at a motel thinking that maybe you have finally taken the hint that he's done.
he arrives back to his apartment only to be met with unfamiliar silence. the entrance of his home is dark and lifeless, and it's so quiet he can even hear a pin drop. there's a tightness in his chest, followed by a wave of disappointment that runs over him like a feverish shiver.
despite his hard headed decision, he's still anticipating on hearing your lovely voice to greet him as he walks through the door.
he knows it's selfish.
toji expected many things to happen after last night's fight. he figured the reaction to him leaving you (again) would be far bigger. a screaming phone call or a string of cursing text messages to call him out on his shitty behavior.
after all he deserves it for acting like an insufferable asshole.
he tries to swallow his guilt but it remains lodged in his throat when he acknowledges that this might actually be the end.
the expression on his features falls.
it’s better this way, he consoles, dragging his feet across the floor to approach his kitchenette. he shrugs off his beaten up, oversized coat and tosses it over one of the chairs. he opens one of the cupboards, and grabs a mug to prepare himself a cup of tea.
she’s too young to settle for a guy like me, he continues. widowed with two kids who he barely sees anymore, working paycheck to paycheck just to make ends meet…
a deadbeat.
he exhales, swirling his brew in his ceramic cup. the aroma of sweet leaves dances up the spiral of steam to kiss his nose.
she deserves more than me.
he places the kettle down but stares at the cup mindlessly, losing all train of thought as his hands grip onto the edge of the counter.
he can acknowledge that his insecurities are clouding his judgement on something truly special, even though this was only ever meant to be purely physical.
except, the sex was growing more intimate. the experience wasn't about pleasure for him anymore. he would find himself losing all focus to the depth of your pretty eyes, stealing kiss after kiss like your mouth was the source of where all his happiness belongs.
belonged.
belonged.
it’s over now, he thinks again. it has to be.
a faint patter of footsteps distracts him, prompting him to ease his hold on the counter as the muscles on his face relax. his heart steadies itself, and he draws in a breath when he feels two arms delicately twine around his waist.
“you’re...still here...” he points out in shock.
he feels you press your forehead into his back. “of course, where else would I be?”
he clears his throat to release the guilt then spins on his heel to face you.
"I thought you might have taken off," he bluntly states as he rests his lower back against the counter.
his heart swells, emanates flurries of golden sparks when he meets your gorgeous irises. the will to carry on with his decision crumbles when he catches the corner of your mouth tick into a slight grin.
"I thought about it," you reply casually, loosening your grip to place your palms flat on the side of his stomach. "but the truth is I'm worried about you and I just…want to talk things out…make sure you're okay...”
“I’m the one acting like a jerk and you’re worried about me?” he blurts.
you quirk your brow at the slip of his question. “so, you know you’re acting like a jerk?”
toji’s eyes widen slightly, a hint of pink tainting his cheek. “I asked the question first.”
you purse your lips playfully, aware of the crack that's been revealed and ready to swing once again with another blow.
“it’s because you’re acting like a jerk that I’m worried about you,” you explain, “you’re not yourself when you’re unsettled about something…”
his face warms, the hue of pink deepening into a stronger blush. the familiarity of pointing out his personal traits feels all too homely. seven months shouldn’t feel like a forever but in this bubble with you time ceases to exist.
you trail the pads of your finger tips up his torso, your hands clasping around the back of his neck as you press all your soft and sweet parts right up against the frame of his body.
the brush of your lips on his scar prompts him to flutter his eyes close. he fails to stop himself from holding you then, his firm hands reaching for the outline of your waist
“so,” you murmur with a tempting kiss as you return to your question, “you know you’re acting like a jerk then?”
please don’t make me say it, he thinks, please don’t make me unravel right in front of your eyes.
he squeezes your side, whispering a defeated “listen…”
“did I do something wrong?” you question, a hint of pain laced through every vowel which only makes his heart ache further. “did something happen?”
toji shakes his head.
“it’s not you,” he grumbles. “look, you asked me a couple of weeks ago if this thing between us was serious and…it shouldn’t be.”
you narrow your gaze, tilting your head with adorable confusion that makes toji want to kiss you right there on the spot.
he can feel you pluck at the fabric of his sweater nervously, “why not?”
toji drops his head and sighs.
“c’mon, doll, let’s be real. I’ve got nothing to give you other than a good fuck in this shitty apartment. you're better off finding someone else and I don't want to waste your time”
you press your mouth into a firm line. “your behavior…” you reply, nipping your bottom lip slightly as you gather your thoughts. “are you acting like this because you…want to end things with me?”
toji has never felt smaller. you’ve reduced him into a shriveled pea rolling around his scuffed up boot. “look, it’s better this way, alright?” he admits with a raise of his head, still refusing to outwardly say what you easily deduced. “it's better to move on before things get too complicated…”
the silence hangs heavy in the air, the tension so thick toji feels like he can’t breathe properly. his heart rattles with no restraint, and he finds himself suddenly lightheaded. an apology rests on the tip of his tongue, ready to take back everything he just bombarded you with but his throat simply tightens once more when your hands cradle his strong jaw.
“I like your apartment,” you quietly speak, “your bed sheets always smell so good, and you fixed the water pressure after I complained that it sucked…”
toji blinks back his surprise.
“I also notice that you burn the candle that I got you and that you switched laundry detergents when your old one gave me that weird rash,” you giggle and toji couldn’t help but huff out an embarrassed laugh himself. “the windows let in the best kind of sunlight, and it’s always so cozy in here…”
you press your lips against his mouth to leave a chaste kiss, “as for the company…” you add on, nuzzling the tip of your nose over his, “I consider you more than just a good fuck.”
toji can physically feel himself wilting underneath the heat of your gaze. “I’m just looking out for you, doll.”
"you can look out for me by making me breakfast instead of running away from me..."
he looks serious but his eyes are sincere, holding a level of tenderness that he only reserves for you. his palm moves to seek out your lower back, a hint of pressure pulling you back into his warmth.
your lover has stayed tight lipped about his past, but over his period with you he's found himself spilling out a few secrets here and there.
"I haven't done this in a long time," he vulnerably admits.
"I know," you reassure him, "but...the real question is, do you want this?"
he parts his lips ready to seal the last nail in the coffin, ready to give you the chance to walk out of his life for good. but you're gazing up at him from underneath your eyelashes, your determined stare an opening of your own mercy. your plush, supple lips summoning his cowardice into oblivion.
"toji?"
his breath hitches, his apprehension silenced by the urgency of his desire.
you're so lovely, he thinks. you feel like home.
"I want you," he reveals, his deep voice smoky and untethered, releasing enough sentiment in those three words that he can feel you tremble in his arms. "I just don't deserve you. I don't want you getting caught up in my bullshit..."
""you're a lot sweeter than you look, you know?" you run your fingers through the streaks of his black hair, combing it back to reveal his forehead. "you deserve to be happy, toji, and...and I think I can make you happy..."
your aura beams with delight when he flashes you a wolfish grin in return. a smile you've grown to adore so deeply. his apology comes in the form of a kiss, one that's gentle and slow. a stroke of fire burns up the back of your neck, making you quiver in places when he glides his tongue across yours. you hum softly into his lips while he releases a content sigh, the barrier he's been keeping up turns to ashes beneath your feet.
#toji x reader#toji x you#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro x you#toji x y/n#toji fushiguro x y/n#toji fluff#toji angst#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen angst#peach is {offline} ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
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The Immortal and the Soldier
Characters → Y/N & Bucky Barnes
Summary → Monsters live in humans, demons within man, haunted with despicable desires. A past never forgotten comes back to haunt Bucky Barnes and Y/N succumbs to her despicable desires.
Word Count → 5.9k (yeah this is a big boy...)
Warnings → 18+, Angst, violence, death, blood, mental health, vampires/monsters, smut.
Beta → the wonderful @princessmisery666 // all mistakes are my own.
A/N → I woke up in the middle of the night and couldn’t get back to sleep and this came into my head so made a couple of notes in a doc and here we are! Oh and it took @fandomfic-galore, @kalesrebellion & @daydream3r-xo not even a minute to convince me to post this now...
Undisclosed Location, Italy - 1943
Moonlight cast an eerie blue-grey around the now quiet campsite. The tall trees that had long ago shed their leaves, expelled frightful shadows as their bodies swayed in the cold icy breeze. Roots like skeletal fingers scratching at the earth, clawing their way to the depths, and clinging to their life source.
Y/N pulled the shawl tighter around her shoulders, clenching the meeting parts in her fist. The tears had long frozen to her face in the two-minute walk across the camp. Her scrunched expression stretching the icy remnants of her pain, now physical in the breeze pin pricking her cheeks and distracting her momentarily from the ache in her heart.
She focused on her steps, unable to see further than the ground below. As much as the moon allowed, she was able to avoid icy patches and twigs, trying not to make a sound. She crept away from Sergeant Barnes' tent to her own. Away from the man who had turned distant and cruel in tongue after his release from Hydra’s clutches.
Y/N had seen the way he’d eyed Agent Carter, how his sultry smirk had hidden the darkness in his once brilliant blues. She knew he'd suffered, had tried to talk to him tonight, to distract his thoughts but her advances had been unwelcomed and fully discouraged for the future.
James regretted what had happened between them. He'd said so in many ways and confirmed it with his icy glare. Y/N had managed to escape without showing him a single tear. But while she crept away her chest heaved, and she was soon a tumbling mess of sobs at the realisation he was not coming to chase her down, to pull her back into his quarters and wrap her in the warmth of his body.
A shiver ran through her body and she glanced to check her surroundings, all the tents looked the same. She held in a small gasp when there were none to be found. She’d strayed too far; she was no longer in the campsite. The trees denser and darker, and after turning in a full circle there was no path in sight. She couldn’t remember how she had gotten there; didn’t know the route she had taken or how to get back.
A puff of mist formed at each pant, white clouds in the almost-black. Fear gripped her chest, her heart thumped against her ribcage. Panic set in and Y/N scrambled between the trunks and over fallen trees. Her hair caught in the low hanging branches, pulling it out of its once neat style. Stockings soaked to the knee; toes numb in the leather lace-up pumps.
Her mind raced as her feet pounded against the thin layer of snow. She spun around in hope of finding a clearing, a source of light. Anything. The sounds of the nocturnal creatures; howls, hoots and animal cries filled the woodland. Tears rolled down her cheeks while she gasped and spluttered searching for an exit.
She stopped when she could no longer breathe. Preparing to call out for help. Someone would hear her surely. She panted for breath, trying to draw in enough air and calm her panicking brain to be able to shout.
Silence.
Her ears rang with the sound of nothing, not even the drift of the wind through the previously creaking branches. There was no ruffle of leaves or calls of the animals. Complete silence, an unnerving and fearful sound causing Y/N to hear the blood pumping through her ears.
A crunch behind her. She turned slowly, eyes glistening with unshed tears as she hoped to see a saviour. Even in the darkness and little amount of moonlight, she was able to see the silhouette of a figure; tall and lithe.
As if a spell was cast, she unknowingly walked towards the stranger. A sense of calm washed away the pain and fear that clung to her heavy heart with each step. The shadow stepped out into the stream of moonlight; the stranger had high cheekbones, set on a razor-sharp jaw, framed by long dark hair.
Y/N was rooted to the spot while the creature circled her, a predator, and its prey. Wide eyes, unblinking away from hers until they were no longer in view. Her heart hammered in her chest, the calm disappearing into a panic. Monsters lurked in the dark, under the bed and in closets. Monsters lived in humans, demons within man, haunted with despicable desires. She knew that’s what he was, a monster, she understood the danger, but she remained under his spell.
“Run.”
The snow slipped under her feet, the trees a blur as tears streamed down her cheeks as she tried to outrun the stranger. Y/N couldn’t hear any other footfall so darted behind a tree, back resting against it. She tried to calm herself, but nothing helped quieten the panic taking over her soul.
It was almost silent apart from her laboured breaths. She glanced around the trunk but there was nothing there. Y/N sunk back against the trunk, closing her eyes. Her eyes shot open at the sound of a twig snapping and she was face to face with the stranger.
His red eyes glared while a ravenous grin around perfectly white teeth. The monster lurched forward and latched its mouth onto Y/N’s neck, she felt nothing other than relief. Everything slowed as Y/N fell to the snowy floor, no feeling of the ice seeping onto her clothes, over her skin and into her bones. Heartbeat dropping, as blood trickled down her neck until her world went blacker than the sky above. Her heartbeat stopped.
Y/N’s eyes flicked open in haste, searching for her bloodied saviour. He gracefully pulled her onto her feet, yet no words passed between them. Only his tongue darting out to clean her blood from his lips. She looked at his fiery eyes, the ones reflecting her own unique colour and for the first time, she felt alive.
Brooklyn, United States of America - 2024
The bar was upmarket, the kind with expensive drinks and dark velvet decor. The gothic theme was eaten up by the patrons; the black candles melting down various bottles, skulls and ravens dotted around the tables and shelves, and the ornate mirrors adorning the walls. Even the staff fit the part in their costumes as they waited on the tables and served cocktails in ornate goblets; the ones that looked like they were made in a laboratory rather than a bar.
Bucky couldn’t believe what he was seeing, and it had nothing to do with the bar’s theme. There sat on a stool at the end of the dark wood bar, Y/N was talking to the barman. Of all the places he’d been, all the time he’d been alive, he never thought he’d lay his eyes on Y/N again.
His mind flurried with memories of the past; soft and tender moments sullied by his demons on full display that frightful night he’d finally returned to camp from Hydra’s grasp. His words echoed around his head; he’d never forgotten them. He dismissed her from his tent, full of rage at Hydra and anxiousness for his future. Let alone the future he could provide for Y/N.
Regret and shame had stopped him from following her out into the camp, rooted to the spot on his cot bed as if by some supernatural force. Bucky had overheard the hushed whispers of the other nurses, but they always kept an eye out and stopped as soon as they noticed his presence.
He hadn’t seen Y/N since that night, hadn’t expected her to look for him either, she respected herself and that was one of the many things he had admired. And now, eighty years later, it was as if magic had brought back his angel.
The woman’s style was different from that of the forties, but it was unmistakably Y/N. It must be her. Or was it just Bucky’s guilt and mission for redemption causing the hope fluttering in his chest as his eyes remained transfixed on the ethereal beauty at the bar.
Y/N’s face hadn’t gained a single wrinkle, her skin was flawless. She had darker eyes, yet it still held that glint of sass and taunt that he had once adored. It must be her, who else could it be? A descendant? Maybe she left Italy and settled down, started a family?
Bucky shook his head, an attempt to drown out the voices getting louder in his thoughts and joined his fellow Avengers in the veiled VIP booth. He tried to enjoy their company and the drinks that kept flowing regardless of his tolerance, but he couldn’t keep his thoughts quiet and his eyes continued to wander across the room.
A past long forgotten had come back to haunt and consume his thoughts with a compelling game of ‘what if…’. It would be a miracle if it was Y/N perched at the bar. But what if it was all a trick of the mind, an apparition, a spectre. A remnant of Hydra’s control triggered by something he was unaware of.
It was nearly a century ago, and, well, how had she survived this long without a blemish or sign of ageing? And if she did know who he was, would she know about him? The soldier, the weapon he was made into, the broken ghost of a man she once knew.
Physically, Bucky was no longer in Hydra's grasp and the triggers no longer affected him. But mentally, he would never forget Hydra or the Winter Soldier; what they did to James Buchanan Barnes and what he did for them. He remembered every victim, every intimate way he tortured and neutralised targets without question.
Was this woman an omen in the disguise of a miracle? A new technique for Hydra to get into his head, to break him, to control him again.
Questions and memories were quashed as the next round of drinks were provided. The group continued to bond, as per their boss’ request. Revisiting Brooklyn was on his long list of ventures after Shuri finished removing the trigger words, but then he got sucked into the soul stone only to be brought back to fight another war.
Bucky’s thoughts drifted to the dame that had captured his heart during a different war, a different era. The very similar-looking woman, still seated at the bar, sipped her drink, and batted away unwanted attention with a simple shake of the head or her leather-clad hand.
It was late October, but it wasn’t that cold yet, and being inside shouldn’t have warranted that attire. Though, they looked expensive. Unless it’s a fashion statement, Bucky scoffed and flexed his visible Vibranium fingers. You once did the same thing; to hide.
Luckily, from his spot, she couldn’t see him as he peered through a gap in the black lace curtains of the closed-off area. She was fond of the barman, he continued to return to her end of the bar and immediately scared off the patrons in her vicinity, they continued to talk and laugh with one another while he made the concoctions listed on the extensive cocktail menu.
It is her. Bucky’s heart thumped against his chest, blood pumped adrenaline through his body as he noticed the way she laughed, how she tucked a loose strand of hair back in place and as she sipped her drink and her lips curled around the glass.
Bucky ignored his teammates' conversations, he was completely enraptured by Y/N. Unsure of whether to go over and talk to her or to watch from a distance, to get indisputable evidence it was her. The woman turned towards the VIP area, looked straight at him, and nodded to the seat beside her.
He downed the vodka, the spirit scratching at his throat, out of habit and not to give him Dutch courage and left the VIP area. He ignored the jeers and whistles from his fellow Avengers. His body hummed with uncertainty and excitement. A nervous twitch sent his hand through his locks, his fingers flailed at his neck at the sudden reminder that it was not shoulder-length anymore.
Y/N had spotted James the moment he stepped through the doors, the mirrors behind the bar had given her the best position to scope out the venue and its patrons. Her body tensed at the sight of him, only easing as his smile grew and he walked along the parallel wall with a group of friends.
Even though she had looked away, Y/N had felt his gaze on her and couldn’t help but almost mewl at the thought of him recognising her. The potential conflict going through his head was whetting her appetite for destruction.
Of course, she knew exactly who he was, who he had become. Unbeknownst to him, she’d crossed his path several times over the last century. She knew all about his time as Hydra’s fist, his escape and subsequent time as a fugitive, and even later in Wakanda where she’d slipped past the advanced technology without detection. Their defences were good, but they were only ever fearful of living enemies, they didn’t know to look for the dead.
She had been curious, he was alive and well, and hardly aged. Admittedly, at first, she was jealous that he had found a way to live beyond his years without the same insatiable thirst for blood she had. But as she watched him from afar, she realised the monsters that he battled daily were penance for his type of immortality.
There were moments that she’d considered freeing James, save him from the curse set upon him by Hydra. But she knew that no amount of compulsion could completely shake the things that they had done to him. It was deeper than the surface levels that a young vampire could manipulate. Eventually, she hadn’t needed to when she came across his familiar scent in Africa, tracking it down to the hut in the hidden kingdom.
Y/N had kept tabs on him once the demons had been removed from his mind by the Wakanda Princess. The years that passed had done nothing to quell the scorch of his rejection. She had bided her time before making her presence known. A cunning smile adorned her ruby red lips as she heard his approaching steps, even over the now heavily crowded bar.
“Old’ Fashioned, please. And whatever the lady’s having.” James’ voice hadn’t changed, he was still a Brooklyn boy, even after all these years.
“Cosmopolitan,” Y/N responded with a wink at the bartender which didn’t go unnoticed by James though she turned her body towards him. “And may I ask the name of the person that has offered to buy me a drink?”
“You don’t know who I am?” James smirked, yet Y/N could see through his facade. He had a soft blush on his cheeks and the confident attitude was a mask.
Y/N’s eyes widened, and brows raised at the response, “That sounds a little pretentious don’t you think? Thank you,” she nodded to the bartender and lifted her drink in the direction of James before sipping at the pink liquid, “And to you.”
James handed over the bills and leant against the bar, his Vibranium hand swirling the golden liquid, “It’s Bucky. Well, James. But my friends call me Bucky.”
“Nice to meet you Jam-”
“-I don’t mean to sound rude,” James interrupted, “but you look very familiar, have we met before?”
“I assure you that we haven’t, I’d remember someone called Bucky.” Y/N giggled behind the glass while she took a sip. She kept her eyes trained on him, sending a different message to the laughter.
Surely James didn’t believe she was who he thought she was, couldn’t believe she was still alive after all this time. But then again, she hadn’t expected him to be either.
“No problem doll.”
His lips met the rim of the glass, but his eyes stayed on hers as she had done to him before. Though his eyes didn’t show any kind of the confidence he once had, he seemed quite the opposite, shy and maybe a little bit embarrassed at the slip of an endearing nickname.
Yet, the nickname sent a shiver over Y/N’s skin, goosebumps running over her flesh before pooling as butterflies in her stomach. She brushed her hands down the skirt of her dress, removing imaginary lint. An old habit from when she was human; when she was uncertain about what to do next.
The game she was playing wasn’t going to plan. She hadn’t expected him to be so forthcoming. She hoped he’d forgotten about her, a distant memory from a dreadful time he’d rather forget. But something must have sparked for him to approach her. Perhaps he hoped to take her home and have his way with her as he had once before, make a new, better, memory of her.
This stalled her plans, James remembered, and that changed everything. It stopped her from being able to give him hell for how her life changed that night, to break him in ways that would make Hydra seem like playground bullies. She wanted to make him pay for all that she had become.
“Do I get to know your name?” James asked, a slight tilt of his eyebrow as he captured Y/N’s attention once more.
“Y/N.” She offered her gloved hand, which he took in his warm one
Alarm crossed James’ features and at the same time, the shock made Y/N pull her hand away. She had hoped the coldness of her skin wouldn’t penetrate the material, but it seemed where she ran cold, James ran hot. But now that Y/N had felt his warmth, she wanted to feel it against her icy skin. It had only been a small taste, but it was enough for her to want to know what she’d feel like under his touch.
Now that James was in front of her, Y/N’s resolve faltered. The ploy to see him suffer at her hands, to hurt him for how she became a blood lustful beast, was no longer at the forefront of her mind. James enchanted her as if the last eighty years hadn’t happened, a small sparkle in his eye, a crook of his lips and she was once again wrapped around his little finger.
Y/N kept her face neutral as she watched him study her while they made small talk. She knew it wouldn’t be long before the charade was over, that he’d ask her if she was Y/N Y/L/N. The woman that he had made love to during the war, had spent every second with when he was not on duty, and, ultimately, broken her heart.
“How?” James placed the empty glass down onto the bar, turning to face her fully in the seat.
“How what?” She played ignorant, holding off on bursting this bubble for as long as she could.
Y/N had indulged in James’ presence, her own unbeating heart was no longer aching with him so close. The idea of him leaving once again made her mentally squirm. She’d created a vengeful plan from her pain and was now living in a nightmare of being unable to go through with it.
“Did they get you?” James asked, quietly and softly, his hand covering her own that rested on the edge of the bar.
“No James, they didn’t. But another monster did.” Y/N jaw ticked, and she pulled her hand away, hopping down from the bar and looking straight at him. “Please don’t follow me, you’ll regret it.”
The streets of Brooklyn weren’t quiet, they were filled with chatter, laughter, and music. It wasn’t dark, the moonlight filtered between the buildings and the streetlamps lit the path towards Y/N’s form idly wandering down the block. Bucky kept his distance, Hydra’s training came in handy for some situations, he was sure that she wouldn’t be able to detect him.
Bucky’s heart raced as he followed Y/N, watching her walk away from him. She was the very same woman that he had never forgotten. The same woman that he’d dreamt of when he was the Winter Soldier. She had haunted him, always in his peripheral vision, slightly out of reach but there in his darkest hours and even when he was tending to the farmlands in Wakanda.
She did exist, had continued to exist and he was not going to let this be the last time he saw her. He had always known someone was out there, watching him and yet, he’d always thought it was his handlers, Steve, or other SHIELD agents and until recently, his teammates. But now he knew it was her. He just knew, somehow, a sixth sense guiding him, protecting him. Even after all he had done to hurt and destroy this world.
Now that Bucky knew she was alive, he wasn't going to let her slip through his fingers; he would chase her, fight for her. He wouldn’t give up on her as he had before. Bucky needed to know what happened, he wanted answers. But mostly, he needed to atone for all that he had done, it seemed she had left a mark on his soul from a time before he became the Winter Soldier.
Y/N knew James would ignore her request to not be followed. She sensed him behind her. He was too much of a gentleman still; and she could hear the sultry way he’d insist he ‘wouldn’t let a dame walk by herself’. Y/N scoffed out loud at the thought. Walking alone was exactly how she ended up in this ghastly life of an immortal.
She could have escaped, run away, and he’d never be able to catch up, he’d probably be too surprised at how quick she could move. Something niggled at the back of her mind; a distant voice, an echo of who she once was. The ever increasing voice told her to wait for James and see what he wanted to say or ask her.
The desperation in that young girl’s voice gnawed at her insides as she reached her apartment. The young, defenceless girl wanted to claw her way out and take over the undead body. To forget the instincts of a vampire and break the rules set by her kind, ignore the boundaries that she had honed over the last century. That girl wanted to run to James and wrap her arms around him and never let go.
Y/N greeted the porter and advised him of the guest to follow, a knowing smile on the man’s lips as she waited by the elevators. James joined her, his body almost touching her arm as she leant forward to press the call button. The atmosphere felt charged with electricity, a hum deep in their bodies and she could sense the desire dripping off them both. She had seduced him, but she felt like a single brush of his fingers against her skin would ignite her very soul. If she still had one, the jury was still out on that.
Silence filled the ascending elevator. Apart from the hum of the machine, James’ anxious breaths and the surprisingly steady rhythm of his heartbeat.
Ding.
Y/N led him through to the penthouse, opening the door to an open plan area consisting of lounge, kitchen, and dining area.It was sophisticated and modern, almost unlived in if it wasn’t for the few homely touches; a blanket thrown over the couch, an extensive vinyl and DVD collections and cooking equipment scattered across the kitchen counters and island.
A pretence for any human that visited unannounced. Even though the visitor wouldn’t remember a thing, Y/N liked the element of surprise, the game of cat and mouse. It was always fun when they realized they had been the mouse all along.
Yet, it wasn’t the contents of her home that James had been drawn to. He walked towards the floor to ceiling windows, taking in the view of Lower Manhattan and the millions of twinkling lights in the distance. She joined him and clasped her hands together, getting lost in the sight.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Y/N broke the silence, eyes still focused on the buildings in the distance. “Changed a lot since the forties though hasn’t it?”
“How?” James asked and turned to face her.
“Just to be clear, I did tell you not to follow me and that you’d regret it if you did?”
James nodded with a neutral expression, it was almost believable without Y/N’s abilities to spot the tiny twitch against his right eye and the slight bob in his throat. “As long as you’re not working for Hydra, I think I can handle it.” James crossed his arms over his chest, a slight tone of impatience seeping into his words.
“Very well.” Y/N sighed and walked to the other end of the room and opened the door, “follow me.”
Bucky was impressed by the large bedroom; it rivalled the apartments at the Avengers compound yet there were hardly any personal items; artwork filled the walls, and a few trinkets were atop the furniture. The large windows continued throughout the apartment; the view would be perfect from the bed.
He gulped at the thought of sharing it with Y/N, his heart thumped against his chest while he followed her movements as she lit the candles dotted on the bedside tables and chest of drawers. A warm glow filled the room, and he copied her seated position at the end of the bed and faced her.
Bucky caught her gaze and offered a sweet smile, to reaffirm that he could handle anything that she told him. Maybe this could be an opportunity for him to share his past; his demons and the nightmares that plagued him even while awake. He knew he was getting ahead of himself but with her so close to being in his arms once more, he couldn’t stop the intense spiral of his thoughts.
She’d always been a confidant, until he was experimented on and tortured by Hydra; he knew that conversation was too delicate for him and he was sure it would make her look at him differently. That was why he let her go, he had become a broken man and words couldn’t fix him.
“Okay, here goes.” Y/N's voice stuttered slightly. She glanced down at her hands in her lap before her eyes came back up to meet his.
Burning red eyes stared back at him, the contrast from her previous colour startled him but he didn’t allow his neutral expression to falter. Bucky knew what he had signed up for and she was being honest with him, he couldn’t let his emotions overrule him. The crimson shine of her eyes made him think of Wanda and what she went through at the hands of Strucker; experimented on, abused, and manipulated by Hydra.
Had Y/N gone through the same fate? Bucky frowned; Y/N had already said it wasn’t Hydra. Some other monster. He knew that there were variations of Hydra across the world, but his mind blanked at the potential monsters that lurked in Italy other than the ones he had been tortured by.
“You’re not the first person to give me that look.” Bucky chuckled, hoping to ease the tension that had filled the room, “Wanda. Her eyes change to a similar colour but it’s more of a glow around her eyes.” He clarified, “Well, these, they are still your eyes.” Bucky attempted to reassure her that he wasn’t scared because he wasn’t, he could never be afraid of her.
Y/N face twitched, an almost smile on her lips as she nodded and pulled at the gloves on her hands, “This might hurt a little.”
She placed her hand, palm up, for him to lay his own upon hers. Bucky felt a spine-tingling sensation run over his body, yet it wasn’t from her icy touch but the feel of her soft delicate skin against his calloused hand. The gape of her mouth indicated that she was surprised that he hadn’t pulled away.
“I- You’re so-”
“Hot? Yeah, it’s something that I’ve had since.... Well, y’know.” Bucky shrugged, not moving his palm away from hers and wiggled his Vibranium fingers. “And you’ve already seen this. The metal isn’t exactly the warmest.”
Bucky turned their connected hands over and placed the Vibranium one upon hers. Not a single flinch from her body or pity in her red eyes as his metal fingers cupped their hands together. His heart swelled at how she visibly relaxed, a slight drop in her tense shoulders and an almost imperceptible growth in her smile.
“I’m not scared Y/N. I’ve got all these- these abilities, and by the looks of things, you do too. Show me who you are.” He pleaded, he needed to know but he also wanted her to feel safe, that she could rely on him. Even after everything he said to her that night.
“I know who you are James.” Y/N pulled her hands away and stood in front of him, the candlelight flickering across her face as the curve of a smile bloomed. It was as if he was bewitched by her, once again. “You think you’re fast and strong, but you’ve got nothing on me.”
“Is that a challenge doll?” Bucky smirked, a sense of pride filling his chest as Y/N’s personality began to filter through, the sass he’d been on the receiving end of when they first met in the medical tent all those years ago.
“I could get you on your knees with my little finger before you could even blink.” She smirked back.
“Just say the word and I will be.” The flirting comment had slipped out, and he immediately regretted it as Y/N raised an eyebrow at him. The uncertainty washed away as her laughter rang out through the room.
“You don’t have to prove anything to me, sweetheart.” Bucky cooed, he could see the uncertainty in her crimson gaze, “how about an arm wrestle?”
Even before Bucky lifted a millimetre off the mattress, he was pulled and twisted onto his back at the head of the bed, lush pillows against his head with Y/N straddled across his lap.
“Okay, you are fast.” He gulped, a view of her breasts, spilling across the neckline of her dress. His hands glided up her thighs and his fingers curled around her hips. “And strong. No arm wrestle needed.”
Y/N didn’t want to terrify James, she didn’t want him to run away either, but she knew that telling him she was a vampire would be difficult. She couldn’t deal with not knowing how he’d react, of whether she could live her eternal life with ‘what ifs’ any longer.
She’d done her very best to claim him as her own, against the other vampires that had circled him over the last couple of decades; for his abilities as the Winter Soldier, for the serum that pumped in his veins and then there were those that wanted to use him for their own personal desires. Y/N had made sure that nobody could stake ownership of him, and luckily for her, her maker was high up in the council to approve the decision.
Now that he was between her legs, and the feel of his hands as they stroked her through the thin material of her dress, gripping her hips as his groin rutted against her core, a fire burned in the pit of her stomach. She was succumbing to her desires and so was he if the friction of his erection was any indication.
Y/N whispered, “Before this goes, where I think it is, you need to know who I am. What I am.”
James leaned forward, mouth opening but she instantly closed it with her index finger pressed against his plump lips. She shuffled backwards, away from his touch and an attempt to clear her head of the intimate situation, kneeling between his legs.
“James, can you hear my heartbeat?”
He sat up, pulling her into his lap and he placed his head to her bosom, her fingers subconsciously gliding through his hair. Nothing. He’d hear nothing and she knew this would be the moment he’d run. James looked up at her and she heard the stutter in his heart, then a look of confusion across his face.
“It’s probably better if I show you.” Y/N opened her mouth and let the fangs grow, protruding and denting her bottom lip.
She saw the dilation of his pupils and the flash of something that resembled fight or flight across his features. Y/N had prepared for this reaction, had spent the last several weeks thinking about how to handle it. What she hadn’t prepared for was James’ hand snaking up her arm and to the back of her neck, pulling her down to press his lips to hers.
The kiss was delicate, a mixture of nerves and hesitancy, yet it made Y/N’s body sing with pleasure. James pulled away slightly, looking at her as if she were the most beautiful woman to roam the Earth.
In an instant, he pulled her back in, a clash of lips, teeth and tongues as the passion grew. Y/N’s hands pulled James’ face closer to hers, she felt every sensation as James’ tongue danced with hers. He loosened his grip on her neck, hands trailing down until they wrapped tightly around her waist, crushing her chest to his.
His hands continued to explore her body whilst her hips ground into his erection, feeling every inch of him through his pants, relishing in the moment while he bunched the skirt of her dress up. A soft whimper fell from Y/N’s lips as he massaged the bare flesh of her thighs.
All thoughts of who he was, who she was and what could happen were forgotten as they collapsed into a tangled mess of limbs; pulling at each other's clothes until they were a naked and breathless between the silky sheets.
A mixture of whimpers and gasps filled the bedroom; bodies intertwined as they both sought pleasure from one another and provided the release of ecstasy. Y/N raised her torso atop James, her nails digging into the warm flesh of his pecs while she chased after her high.
James gripped her hips and rocked up into her at a fierce pace, the delicious friction melting them both as they reached the peak of their orgasms. He wrapped his arms around Y/N’s waist, deepening his intrusion as she shuddered around his shaft.
Y/N burrowed her head into his neck, pressing light kisses to his jaw while her fangs remained on display from the ongoing bliss she felt deep within her darkened soul. They grazed against his pulse point.
“I am yours. Forever.” James’ words drifted through the post-orgasmic haze.
If Y/N’s heart still beat, it would have fluttered at his words. Instead, she pressed her lips to his neck once more, feeling a deeper embrace than before.
Everything Tag List: @reann-loves-sebstan / @aroyaldarknessblr / @thefridgeismybestie / @kitkatd7 / @harold231
Marvel Tag List: @natasha-danvers / @musesforart
#Bucky Barnes x Reader#Bucky Barnes Fic#Bucky Barnes Angst#Bucky Barnes Smut#Bucky Barnes Fanfic#Bucky Barnes Fanfiction
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It’s All Just the Cover - Part 16 - Love At Last
This is the final written part of “It’s All Just A Cover” a Rockstar!Reader x Dean Winchester AU.
After this, there will be an abridged ending; a “how is should’ve ended” post. This story was just too ambitious but I still liked the story and I want ya’ll to know how it ends.
Word Count: 1250
Pairings: Rockstar!Reader x Dean, Rockstar!Gabriel x Sam
Series Summary: You’re the lead singer in a popular cover band. Your brother Gabriel is the drummer with signature candy cane drumsticks. Balthazar is the sexed up guitarist and Gadreel is the band’s stone faced bassist and songwriter. And Castiel is the band’s manager. You’re content living the facade of a rockstar lifestyle, trying to get signed to major label. But then one night, Gabe invites Sam Winchester backstage and his brother Dean comes with. Over time, the older Winchester ultimately makes you reconsider who you are and what you want.
Part 16 Summary: Smut in the autoshop
Song: “New Modern Love” by Halestorm
Wonderful Beta: @thinkwritexpress-official
Mobile Masterlist / Ko-Fi
You hang out with Dean on the weekend, when you’re not busy rehearsing. There’s more privacy at the house he shares with Sam, and another benefit to dating Dean Winchester the mechanic? Access to Singer’s Autobody & Salvage Yard.
On Sunday, after the shop had closed early for the day, Dean lets you park Black Beauty in the garage while he works on his Impala just outside. You’ve never had access to so many tools before! Not that your Black Beauty needs much work--you take care of him so well--but with all these tools around, you’re tuning up your bike however you can.
Dean finishes his work on the Impala and another car before it gets dark outside. The garage is closed with only a few lights on, Bobby is gone for the day, and Dean is doing some work in the office. But the stereo and acoustics in the garage are hard to resist. You blast the music and sing along freely until your voice travels and catches Dean’s attention.
The song distracts you from your work until all you’re doing is polishing and cleaning your motorcycle. Your eyes drift shut as the music moves through you.
“I’ve got a forbidden love / I’m not givin’ it up / I’m not givin’ it up.” You can faintly hear the sound of Dean’s boots on the concrete floor as he enters the main garage. You look over your shoulder and smile at him. You’re putting on a show now. You point in his direction and then curl a finger in invitation. “I’ve got a new modern love / I’m not givin’ it up.”
You turn around to face Dean as he stalks towards you. He turns down the stereo one or two levels so that your voice goes over the music. Dean’s gaze bores into you as you sway your hips. Dean drops the notebook he’d been using in the office.
“I won’t pretend that I don’t feel the way I feel.” Dean comes up to you and wraps his arms around your waist. “I can’t forget the taste of something that’s real.”
His nose and lips drag along the curve of your throat. He takes a deep breath and so do you. Dean smells so good. You’ll never smell sweat and gasoline the same way. Dean presses his body into yours, pinning your legs against your bike. You run your fingers through his hair, pulling his head back so you can look into his dazed eyes.
“Step into my closet / And maybe you’ll find / Something that’ll scare you, something that you like.” Dean’s grip on your waist tightens as he lifts you up and wraps your legs around his waist. He sits astride Black Beauty, your back facing the handlebars. “Your old familiar logic / Is poison on your lips / There’s nothing in the water / That’s just the way it is.” Dean claims your mouth, cutting off your singing, cutting off the words which might just be declaring your feelings for him.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Dean murmurs against your lips. His hands roam over your body, kneading your soft flesh. You grind against Dean’s lap, denim rubbing on denim. Dean’s mouth tastes of whiskey and you're intoxicated. You will only ever enjoy whiskey in this form. You claw at Dean’s t-shirt until you can pull it over his head. Your nails drag over his hot skin. His arms are a shade tanner than his torso from working in the sun all day. You can taste the sunlight on his skin when you kiss his throat.
In contrast, you're cold from working in the shade. The smell of all the metal in the shop fills Dean's nostrils, giving him the illusion that your taste like metal, like iron. In reality, he's just left a dark purple mark on your shoulder. Dean can't stand the teasing anymore. Your jeans are tight and form fitting. Dean’s dirty, torn jeans are tight because he's aching to bury himself inside you. He pulls his mouth away from you to get off of the bike. He comes to stand beside it while you side with both legs on the one side as well. Dean slowly reaches to remove your tank top.
“You can't rewire these circuits, any other way.”
He undoes unbuttons your jeans next, spurred on by your own enthusiasm to unbuckle his belt. Dean strips away your pants.
“Yeah you can twist the signal, the message is the same.”
You hook your finger in Dean's boxers, bringing him closer. He strokes your slit through your panties and then pulls them to the side.
“Step outta your bubble / And maybe you'll find / Something that'll save ya / Something that you'll like / Your old familiar logic / Is poison on your lips /There's nothing in the water / That's just the way it is.”
Dean's cock is freed from the confines of his boxers and after only a few strokes of your hand, he's thrust inside you and lifted your legs up by hooking his hands under your knees. Your ass rests on the leather seat of Black Beauty. Your mind is fogged by desire and you're not sure if you're desecrating your bike but you've never felt sexier. Dean drives himself into you at a relentless pace, as if a song about forbidden love makes the moment even more special. And maybe it does.
Dean has you gasping and holding onto him for dear life. One of his hands reaches out to hold onto a handlebar of Black Beauty as if he needs his own leverage or stable source. Dean surprises you by picking you up completely while still remaining inside you. He mounts your motorcycle as he had before, astride and facing the handlebars. Your back is to the handlebars but sitting on Dean's lap, sitting on your bike offers the best surface for you to lean back and grind yourself down upon Dean's cock. Straddling him the way you are, he's deep and all the way inside you. He meets your every move, matches every thrust as you both climb toward the ultimate release.
Your back is arched, Dean's cheek is pressed to your breast. He winces and moans as his climax tenses deep within him.
“Fuck, oh god, yes baby, yes Y/N. Oh fuck I'm gonna come,” he manages to groan. His thumb rubs your clit between your two bodies until you succumb to the pleasure with him. You reach the very summit of your pleasure. You cry out and Dean’s own voice cracks as he spills himself inside you.
“Ohhh, fuck,” you gasp as your hips buck and you ride your boyfriend as if he's a mechanical bull.
The music on the stereo has changed by the time you and Dean come back to your bodies, to your senses. Yet you don't move. You're leaning back and Dean is holding your body, resting his cheek upon your breast. You're quiet for a while, playing with his hair while Dean gently strokes your skin.
“Y/N?” Dean finally breaks the silence.
“yeah baby?” he lifts his head off your chest to that he can look you in the eye. He tucks a strand of your hair behind your hair.
“I'm falling for you, babe.” You don't know what to say. “I think I love you,” he murmurs into the otherwise quiet and empty garage. He looks you in the eye to show how sincere he is and you can see it.
“I love you too, Dean Winchester.”
tagging: @abbessolute @autoblocked @talesoftheimpala @mrsbarry-allen-1031 @gryffindorable713 @therealcap @team-barry @whoopxd @shadowpriestess6 @overlyobsethed @iamsteverogersss @castihelloboys @gracehappyfeet @beautiful-and-strange @havingfunenjoyinglife @aprofoundbondwithdean @feelmyroarrrr @oriona75 @mrswhozeewhatsis @xo-raven-xo @book-loving--anime-chick @dontsassmecastiel @softdudebro @iammsamy @fabinapercabeth4179
#my writing#dean winchester#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester smut#rockstar au#spn au#spn imagine#spn fanfic#spn smut#jensen ackles
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Drawing the line
For a fic I had no plot idea for, this turned out quite long :D It’s an artist au with some inspiration from @over-the-pink-moon lovely moodboards *-* Also thanks to @miris-xo for helping me to find anything related to a plot. I hope you enjoy this, especially since I might not have a lot of internet to post new things over the next two months at the end of the world ^^
Word count: 2.9k
///
She always leaves a trace when she walks out of his place. A pencil or a brush on the kitchen table, a quick sketch or color study left to dry on his desk. Once he finds a cup with paint water forgotten by the sink. Her thoughts remind Matteo of the TV screens in a tech store – five different movies playing and without the sound, nothing makes sense. As soon as she begins to pack up, new ideas flicker through her mind, so she simply forgets what remains out of her immediate sight.
But he doesn’t mind cleaning up after her.
Instead, he puts on the playlist inspired by her and wanders through every room, searching for her clues. If he’s lucky she forgot something important and asks him to meet up between classes. Some days (mostly Tuesdays) she even asks him if he wants to tag along to the cafeteria. He never says no.
Today, she forgot her notebook on the couch. Luna has been doodling in it while he discussed the grocery list with Gastón, and the moment he walked up to the couch again, she tossed it away like it was on fire. Before he could ask, she pretended to be deeply lost in filling the canvas with colors.
In moments like these he’d trade his first guitar for a glance into her mind.
The notebook feels heavy in his hands as he picks it up. It’s not the small sketchbook she uses for first drafts and carries around everywhere. And, from experience, forgets everywhere too. He’s only seen the fancy sketchbook two times before, and both times she threatened him to not even blink at it or she’ll ruin his mom’s gift the night before her birthday.
Nothing tempts him more than to sneak a glimpse at whatever Luna is trying to hide from him.
///
To Luna: How much is your nice sketchbook worth to you?
///
The moment she holds it in her hands again, she sighs so loud that the people around them turn around and stare. “And you didn’t look inside? Not even once?”
“Is that how little faith you have in me? After all the times I brought you your other sketchbook, or your brushes, or those funny little sponges and…”
“Okay, okay,” Luna mutters, one hand playing with her hair, “I get it. I shouldn’t come over to work on that painting for your mom anymore, given how much stuff I forget every time.”
She wants to walk right past him, into the cafeteria, but Matteo follows her with ease. A smirk rests on his mouth. “That’s not what we agreed on, and you know that.”
With an eyeroll, she takes a step back to let three guys leave the aisle with their heavy trays. When she’s by Matteo’s side again, a corner of her mouth twitches slightly upward. “Just for the record, none of the people I made commissions for so far asked to watch me while I’m working. Only you did.”
“Because I’m curious to see how the magic happens. And didn’t you say you usually don’t do commissions? That this was an exception for being the hero who gave you your sketchbook back?” Five times, to be exact. How anyone could forget the same thing, in the same classroom, five weeks in a row, remains a miracle to Matteo. But no matter the reasons why, he’s happy to have found her along with the book.
They reach the dessert bar. Luna begins to heap chocolate pudding into a bowl, one arm awkwardly clenching her sketchbook. Matteo watches her for a moment, then snickers. “Do you want me to hold this for…”
“No!” She doesn’t even let him get to the end of the question. “I’m good, you don’t have to.” Realizing she had just shouted at him, she flinches. “Thanks, but no. Just pick a dessert, okay? I’ll pay.”
He chooses a strawberry cheesecake.
///
“So, did you cook this or did your mom make that for you?” he asks after they sit down at the only free table for two, nodding towards her lunchbox.
“My mom. If I tried this, everything would look like a giant mess of green pasta.”
Matteo shakes his head in amusement and chews on his homemade sandwich. “Damn, the poor spinach.”
“How’s your sandwich?” She drowns the latest bite with a sip from her water bottle, and her eyes linger on his cheesecake long enough for him to consider teasing her about it.
Instead, he puts on a smirk. “Good, of course. I just prepared it before my first class.”
They eat in silence. It’s a nice contrast, Matteo thinks, because so far, they have always been interrupted by one of her friends. And they were nice, they chatted and laughed with him, but he’d rather sit in silence with Luna alone than to engage in meaningless small talk with her friends.
“So, you haven’t answered my question yet.”
The first spoon with chocolate pudding just went into her mouth, and she looks at him out of wide, beautiful eyes. “Huh?”
“I asked you if you lied to me when you said you didn’t do commissions.”
“Oh.” Another spoon of pudding. She’s still staring at him, half lost in thought again. He wonders if she’d let him get away with stealing a taste of her dessert. (Or of her lips.) “Well, I didn’t lie. I used to make a few back in high school. But I’ve only drawn for fun since I started uni.”
“Then I’m glad you made that exception for me.”
“You mean for your mom?”
“Yeah.”
///
She’s biting her lip again. She always does when she’s thinking about which part to paint next, and in those moments, Matteo has to remind himself that he should appear interested in what she’s doing, and not in her. Perhaps she believes he actually wants to learn about the right paper, or proper colors, but mostly he wants to learn about her. About the dimples in her cheek when she laughs, and the sensation of her fingertips on his skin. One time she forgot her hair tie, so some strands of her opened curls kept falling into her face, like a frame to a masterpiece, and in that moment, he wished he knew how to pin her beauty down on paper.
“Do you draw people too?”
“Is that your way of asking if I would draw you?” She doesn’t even look up from her canvas, just frowns at it as she dips her brush into her mixed shade of light blue again.
Matteo huffs, robbing an inch closer to her with his chair while he scans her face for a reaction. “Is that your way of telling me you thought about drawing me? Because I was just curious, to be honest.” And if, in fact, she did want to stare at him for hours to get the most delicate lines of his smile right, he’d be the last person to object.
No reply. The movements of her brush are the only sound in the living room. By now Matteo finds a rhythm in those movements, a melody he misses when she’s gone, sometimes.
Luna sighs. The brush pauses in its dance over the canvas. “Your curls would be a nightmare to sketch.”
“Wow, thanks. What have I done for you to be in such a good mood today?” (So far, she barely smiled at him, and he longs for a fraction of her focus.)
For the first time this afternoon, she turns away from her painting and gives him her full attention. “I’m sorry. That’s not what I meant. I like your hair.”
“You do?”
Her eyes pin down the paper on the table. “Yeah. I mean, the curls suit you, and they look super soft somehow. But I couldn’t do them justice on paper.”
Luckily, she already focuses on her painting again before he can’t contain the smile on his lips.
///
He thinks of her constantly. Not as much when he has a task to focus on, or when he’s with his friends or classmates. His imagination waits for him to be alone, when he stands in the middle of the supermarket aisle and can’t decide on what kind of pasta to buy, when his thoughts stray away from the lecture he’s supposed to follow. As soon as he’s alone with his mind, she’s everywhere.
Right now, Matteo walks home from the bus stop down the street and plays through a conversation where she admits she likes him just as much. Then, he makes up a scene where he catches her drawing him. As he opens the door to the apartment building and fumbles with the key for his mailbox, the Luna from his imagination is blushing wildly while he tells her how wonderful exactly he thinks she is.
There’s a yellow envelope in his mailbox. Bright yellow, the color of sunflowers in August, and no post stamp. It surprises him enough to shush every thought of Luna, at least for a moment. As he takes the stairs, he reads his name written in neat, cursive letters again and again, as if they’d reveal their secret like that. Finally, he glances at the back of the envelope, to discover Luna’s signature.
His feet freeze on the spot.
She sent him something, and it’s definitely not his mom’s birthday gift. They had lunch together yesterday, and she didn’t mention anything that could explain why she left an envelope in his mailbox. He has no idea what it hides, and now his heart is beating against his chest as he takes two steps at a time.
///
It’s a sketch. Of him.
There’s no note attached, not even a date. Just his face on an otherwise blank sheet. The smile she drew radiates the same feeling he gets in his stomach every time she laughs, and she added a sparkle to his eyes he never found in them himself. He wonders how she managed to make his curls look like they’re about to bounce out of the paper, and how long she studied him without him noticing. The mere idea heats his chest up.
If this is how Luna sees him, he might be the luckiest guy in this world.
///
Matteo thanks her for this drawing five times, and one more time as she walks through his door two days later. A smile graces her lips, and her hug surrounds him with her scent that never quite seems like perfume.
“How are you?” she asks, spreading brushes on the living room table.
“Fine. And you?” Do you randomly draw your friends all the time? Or is there the tiniest chance I’m more than just a weird guy who pays you for drawing a picture in front of him?
Those questions don’t leave his mouth. Instead, Matteo sits down next to her and listens to her explanations on drawing open water. Meanwhile, he imagines taking her to his parents’ beach house in Italy.
“So, I think I could be finished with this next week. When was your mom’s birthday again?”
In the last moment, he holds back the sigh that tries to slip over his lips. “In two weeks.” In two weeks, this will be over. Luna will draw at her desk at her home, and exams will be inching too close to waste a full hour with him in the cafeteria. The semester is coming to an end, merciless in its rush of time, and he still has no idea how he’s going to see her again.
“What’s your favorite color?”
“Yellow,” Luna replies. “And yours?”
Matteo twirls his spoon in the coffee cup. (She almost dipped her brush into it three times today.) “Blue. Mixed with yellow, it’d be green, right?”
She rewards him with a smile along with her nod. “Yeah.” While she goes on about green and turquoise and color names he never heard of before, his gaze gets lost on her, dragging his thoughts along to the moon. The delicate skin around her eyes wrinkles because she’s smiling so much. Between teal and seaweed green, he stumbles upon the realization of how bright and clear her iris is. Like a gem stone carved out of the earth, polished just so the light could bring his miniature reflection in them alive.
“Like your eyes”, he mumbles, not fully aware his mouth turned his thoughts into words for her to hear.
Luna pauses. “What?”
Matteo clears his throat. “They’re super green.” Quieter, he adds, “And they’re beautiful.”
“Thanks.” Nothing more than a whisper, but her blushing cheeks say enough.
///
The week passes too quickly. He can’t afford to daydream during classes yet curses himself for letting time run out of his hands. Friday night brings him dreams of her, and he shrieks up an hour before his alarm clock. His mind is a Ferris wheel, high and low, Luna and his finals take turns riding it up to the moment she finally rings his door.
For the first time since they met, she’s wearing a dress. Mentally, he congratulates himself for changing into jeans and a decent shirt a few minutes ago, while he also has to fight the urge to stare at her for too long. He’s almost afraid of embracing her during their hug.
“That dress looks amazing,” he says. She hugs him tighter.
///
“I’m gonna miss you sitting here.”
Luna is almost finished, the last strokes of the brush, the last corrections and soon, she’ll scribble her signature into the corner. He doesn’t want her to leave, he doesn’t want to say goodbye to her after handing her the money he still owes her, and he doesn’t want to admit to himself that he screwed this up. It’s a desperate statement he lets slip out in resignation, and it’s of little comfort that his voice doesn’t tremble.
A hesitant smile sits on her lips as she glances at him. “I’m gonna miss you too.” Her honesty catches him off guard, allows him to hope, to search for right way to ask her out, but before he gathers a single word, she clears her throat. “It’s gonna be weird not having you watch me anymore. I mean, not that I’ll have time to draw during finals.”
Matteo silently nods. Inside, everything screams at him to take a chance before the paint dries and the ending can’t be changed anymore. “What’s the weirdest thing for you about drawing?”
A few seconds pass before she answers. Their knees bump into each other under the table, and he apologizes without meaning it one bit.
“Sometimes, when I look at people, I don’t really see them because I start to think about how I’d draw them. It’s like… picking them apart into single shades. Circles and squares and all that.”
His eyes dart towards the window, to buildings hiding the clear blue sky. He holds the air in his lungs, thinks twice, then jumps into the cold water. “Is that what you did too when you drew me?”
“Kinda.”
Silence. He catches her gaze. His breath hitches. “Drawing you was… different.”
“How so?” He knows they’re tip-toeing around each other, round and round, closer to a moment that’ll inevitably change something. Maybe even them. Hopefully.
“I’m not sure I can explain it.”
He doesn’t ask a second time.
///
The last brush is clean, the sketchbook back in her bag. He watches her as she puts on her shoes, heart racing in his chest. The clock next to the wardrobe ticks mercilessly, he can count along when Luna faces him, and they stare at each other out of words. Out of time.
“Thank you.”
She smiles. “Thank you too. I hope your mom will like it.”
“I’m sure she will.”
Her arms around his neck, one last time. Her scent in his nose, her curls falling into her face as they break apart. She hasn’t even left, and he already misses her.
“So, I guess I’m gonna go home now.” Her hand lingers on the doorknob.
“Good luck for studying,” he replies. The door opens. Ask her, say it, keep her here, if only for a second. With one step, she’s in the hallway. Turns around, grimaces. “Bye, then.”
His voice sounds hoarse. “Bye.”
The door closes. He let her go, he didn’t do any of the things he’s been dreaming, hoping for, and he’s the only one to blame. Matteo sighs, closes his eyes, curses.
The doorbell rings. With a frown on his forehead, he opens.
“Luna?”
“I forgot my bag.”
He steps away, and she hushes inside. “I’m sorry, sometimes I don’t know where my head is,” she says. Rambles. Her cheeks have turned into a soft pink. “Anyway, I’m gonna leave you alone now. Greet Gastón from me, okay?”
“Wait.” A plea, crossing his lips at the speed of light. Suddenly, Matteo feels afraid and brave at once, hesitant and determined. If this is his last chance, he won’t waste it. “Can I see you again?”
///
He still searches for her traces when she leaves. They’re not scattered around his apartment anymore, though, they’re all over his skin. A soft kiss, a delicate touch. Sometimes, a hint of paint when he got a little too impatient. Once, between his bedsheets, she whispers that he could be her new canvas. Matteo presses his lips on her temple and prays that she’ll never be done with him.
#soy luna#lutteo#my sl fanfiction#mandy gives no ducks#It took embarrassingly long to finish this but also I am not surprised with all the things I had to do lately#also thinking of a stupid title was way too hard
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Buried Treasure
Joker x Reader
Masterlist | Request
{A/N} I knocked this one out because it was recent and I wanted to make sure it was done for you before I started posting the older requests! I hope you enjoy, and thanks for bein’ my first request back!
Xo
Prompt: Hi! Can I request a joker x reader where the reader is Frosts daughter and frost never told J about her but he ends up finding out and likes her? Lls. If that makes any sense ❤
Warnings: None, dahling, none. Allow me to ease you back in to my vile smut.
You threw your phone onto your bed in a huff. This was the third time this week your father has had you locked up in your room for reasons unknown to you. It wasn’t an evil thing, you weren’t being mistreated, but it annoyed you nonetheless.
He kept odd hours, after all he was Jonny Frost; The Jokers right hand man. It never really occurred to you that his line of work wasn’t particularly normal growing up. You weren’t sure you knew what normal was once you were old enough to realize that most people held jobs in offices or stores. When he began to lock you away, you decided to wait until you heard him unlock the door again. Sometimes, you wouldn’t hear the lock on the door click open again until at least daybreak.
“Stay inside, I’ll unlock the door soon. Just know you’re safer in here,” he’d say.
Knowing better than to question him, you’d simply agree, kiss him goodnight on the cheek and watch the lock turn in the doorknob. Tonight, however, was a different story. You turned the lights off in your room, pretending as though you’d “go to sleep” after he shuffled back down the hall. This time, you crept over to your window and opened the curtain just a bit, peeking through to see what was going on.
You weren’t visible with the darkness of your room spilling past the curtains, and you kept an eye on your dad as he walked outside, crossing his arms as a purple Lamborghini revved into the driveway and came to a shrieking halt. Your jaw almost hit the floor as you saw the only man you’d ever feared saunter out of the drivers side and toward your dad.
“The Joker,” you whispered. He looked angry as they got caught up in conversation in the driveway. You cracked your window just a tad in order to hear what was going on, but with no success. Curiosity began to sink in, enticing you to attempt leaving your room.
You stood up, finding it hard to peel your eyes from the scene below you as you slipped into a sweater over your negligee. Finally looking away, you approached your dresser and grabbed a bobby pin. You knew how to unlock your door, and you very well could’ve any of the previous times. But you trusted your father before anything and anyone else. It wasn’t that you didn’t trust him this time, you just knew you could steal a quick peek and go unnoticed. You just wanted to see him up close for yourself, and maybe get a little insight into what your dad really does.
CLICK.
The lock pops open and you slide the bobby pin into your hair for safe keeping, making your way through the house. There was no more than a lamp lit in the living room as you passed by, avoiding the floorboards you knew would creak even though they were still outside. Once you approached the door, you stood perfectly still, holding your breath as you moved to steal a glance at Gotham’s most infamous criminal.
“J, I told you,” your father said, “I’m on his tail, I’m this fuckin’ close. He’s a dead man.”
“I told you, I don’t want him dead. I want him alive so I can tear him down myself,” The Joker responded, his body animated as he spoke.
You shouldn’t have been as surprised as you were. Did you think he was selling cookies? You asked yourself. It was a sight to see as you watched them carry on, The Jokers metal grill catching the light that lit up your front door. He was far more attractive than you were expecting, and you almost felt embarrassed for thinking so. His cocky demeanor held your attention the most as you leaned closer into the door absentmindedly, your fingers discreetly wrapping around it as your eyes followed his every move.
Their conversation was interrupted as his piercing blue eyes met your soft {E/C} ones.
“Who the fuck is here, Frost?” He spat, staring straight at you. “Are you trying to... set me up?”
You gasped as your father turned around, quickly leaving their line of sight and pressing your body into the wall. Shit. You did the only thing you could think of next. You ran. You bolted back through the house and to your room, closing the door behind you and silently praying that they would dismiss what they “thought” they saw. Against your better judgement, you crept up to peer through the window again, just to see if they had ignored you.
BANG. You jumped at the sound of the front door flying open, searching around your room for a place to hide. Footsteps and your dad stammering over his words from other parts of the house was all you could hear.
“No ones here, J,” he said, causing your stomach to lurch. “I’d never set you up, you know that!”
You watched the light under your door, suddenly feeling like a little kid in a scary movie. A shadow approached it as though on cue, and you dashed to your closet, trying to make yourself as undetectable as humanly possible behind the doors.
The sound of pressure meeting the doorknob invoked fear in your heart. You had forgetten to lock the door, but it was too late now. A quiet gasp escaped your chest as the door flew open.
“See, no ones fuckin’ here!” Your dad yelled, the panic in his voice is clear as bell, causing The Joker to second guess that he was telling the truth.
The lights flip on, and you can see him walking around, absorbing the contents of your room. The walls were {F/C}, the decor inside of the room fitting you to a tee. He looked surprised, as though he had no idea that Jonny had even had a life when he wasn’t working for him.
“Is this it?” he asked, incredulously. “You’re keeping your most, prized, possession from me?”
“J, she’s...” His voice wavered only slightly, sounding as though he knew he’d lost you before it even happened. “She’s all I have.”
You watched him through a small crack between the doors. He swayed on his feet, his pale skin was almost like porcelain, riddled with tattoos and scars under the rolled up sleeves of the dress shirt he wore. A large, sinister grin tugged at his red lips, and you were sure your heart stopped beating for just a moment. He was the city’s -maybe even the worlds- most dangerous man, and there he was, in your room.
“Frost,” he said, his voice mimicked that of hurt despite the smile on his face. “I’m offended.. You have me.”
His eyes darted to the closet, and though they were locked with yours, you were unsure if he could tell. Something about him made you want to reach out and touch him. To prove to yourself that he was real. His eyes shifted back to your father, who stayed silent. Your breathing was anything but steady as he began to walk, running his fingers along your dresser and over your shelves. He seemed to inspect everything he could before he stood directly in front of the closet doors. A hand brought itself to your mouth as you bit down on your knuckle and closed your eyes.
Please don’t open the door, please don’t open the door...
The doors opened slowly, very, very slowly. The light from the room washed over your closed eyelids as you exhaled. With a flutter, your eyes oepned again just as slowly in return, and the tall man before you was terrifyingly more handsome up close. There was no time to blush, but it was as though he could detect your sudden arousal as you screamed at yourself to push the thought aside.
“{Y/N},” your dad sighed from the opposite end of the room, sounding as though he were pleading for forgiveness.
The Joker’s eyes scanned your features as you brought your hand down to your chest, nervously fiddling with a silver necklace you wore. Your voice was caught in your throat as his eyes quickly followed your fingers. He snorted, running his finger under the chain against your warm skin. His touch electrified every nerve ending in your body.
You knew they were wrong, so very wrong, the things that briefly crossed your mind.
“All that work I give you, and she’s still wearing silver,” he tutted, not taking his eyes off of you as he spoke to your dad.
“It was my mother’s,” you defended, your eyes catching his with a furrowed brow.
“Oh, and she speaks!” He exclaimed sarcastically, leaning his head back and extending his arm.
The way his hair fell disheveled around the tattoo on his forehead secretly excited you. You loved a rough man, and there was nothing about him that could be seen as soft. You caught sight of your father reaching for the gun he carried under his belt quietly behind The Joker, but your eyes widened at the sight, giving him away. The Joker quickly pulled his own gun from his holster, pointing it at your dad.
“Dad!” You called out, stepping forward before feeling a hand holding you back by your shoulder. You gulped, stopping dead in your tracks. So many feelings were brought to the forefront at once, and you weren’t sure where to turn with any of them.
“I’m disappointed in you, Frost,” he said, his tone that of scolding as his icey eyes raked over your frame. “She’s so pretty.. The worst crime you’ve committed is keeping this doll hidden away from me her entire life...”
You immediately locked eyes with your dad.
“My whole life?” You asked, oddly hurt that The Joker, in fact, had no idea you existed at all.
“You have to understand {Y/N},” he responded. “I didn’t want you to get wrapped up in-“
“Blah blah blah...” the joker interrupted, clutching your necklace in his hand and yanking it off of your neck in one swift movement.
“My necklace!” You squeaked automatically, eyes wide with shock and distress. He leaned down to hold your stare, sparks flying in your chest. His lips, stained in crimson, tempted you more than you’d like to admit.
“You’ll learn to appreciate the finer things when you’re on my arm, princess...”
#the joker#joker x reader#jared leto joker#fanfiction#the joker fanfiction#joker fanfiction#jared leto#Harley quinn#the joker imagines#the joker oneshot#joker one shot#Suicide Squad#the joker fandom#the joker x reader
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Learn to Fly (Biadore oneshot)
Hello there I’m back again. Sorry this has taken so long for me to post but thank you for being so patient. luh you xo
He was never sure where it came from, but for as long as he could remember, Danny was terrified of flying. It wasn’t like he was worried that they were going to crash and die, obviously. He mostly attributed it to watching Final Destination a few too many times when it came out. As soon as he hit a moderate turbulence he would have a major panic attack thinking this was it for him. Naturally, this was pretty inconvenient given that his work required him to travel the world. The amount of anxiety pills required to get him through these flights could probably kill someone and forgetting to refill his prescription was never going to end well for him.
These were the thoughts going through Danny’s head when he was in the cab on the way to the airport for the ABCD Tour. His leg was bouncing, his stomach was spinning and he couldn’t remember the last time he felt this nauseous. When he arrived at the airport his fears escalated, only subsiding slightly when finding his best friend waiting for him. “Jesus, you look a mess,” the charming Roy greeted. This kind of banter was nothing new to Danny as he chuckled, hugging the shorter man. “Let’s get drunk!” Danny exclaimed, knowing he would need something to take the edge off of his flying nerves.
“Danny it’s 10am...” Roy trailed off before laughing, “let’s go.”
With a few hours to kill, Danny and Roy found a small bar in the corner of the airport and ordered themselves a round of drinks. Then two, then three then four until Danny was no longer even feeling nervous. “Whoa,” Roy said checking his watch, “we need to go sweetie.” Danny slurred some gibberish and wobbled all the way to the gate with only Roy holding him up. It wasn’t until they’d boarded and sat down that the nerves started to kick in again.
“Roy, Roy, help me.” Danny’s breathing was erratic and Roy grabbed his hand.
“Hey, breathe with me.” Roy responded, breathing slowly in and out trying to help Danny.
“No, my heart...is gonna explode.” Danny was having heart palpitations at this point and stood up, feeling immediately dizzy.
“Sir, you need to sit down, we’ll be taking off soon.” The flight attendant politely said.
“No, no,” Danny’s whole body was shaking until Roy grabbed his arm.
“Hey, you’ll be fine, I’m here,” he whispered. “Can we get some water?”
Danny woke up on Roy’s shoulder, not realising he’d passed out. Roy was peacefully watching a movie on his iPad with his earphones in. He glanced down, noticing Danny’s movement. “How are you feeling?” Danny simply mumbled in response, feeling his nerves bubble up again.
“Don’t like flying,” was Danny’s more coherent reply, to which Roy chuckled. Despite his sleep, Danny was still feeling tipsy. “Help me,” he slurred.
“What do you you need?” Roy asked and instead of answering, Danny wrapped his arms around his neck in a tight embrace, his head buried in Roy’s sweet smelling hair. When the two pulled away they locked eyes for what felt like forever. It was a strange new feeling for Danny, like the ultimate intimacy without even touching. Suddenly his heart rate was speeding up and slowing down all at the same time, it wasn’t the flying he was scared of anymore, it was what might happen next with Roy. Not that there hadn’t been times where Danny wanted to make a move before, he’d had feelings for Roy for a while. It was just that he’d never acted on them and this time he thought that maybe Roy wanted it too. It was such a big risk but in Danny’s eyes so was being on this plane and if they were gonna die on this flight, he wanted to know that he’d at least tried with Roy. Then again, what if Roy flat out rejected him? What if he was so disgusted by the idea of Danny kissing him that it ruined the friendship they had? As he finally snapped back to reality, he realised it was too late to be worrying about this because he was already leaning towards Roy. This was it, the moment that that could make or break everything. His mind was spinning as he realised what he was doing. He shouldn’t have even been doing this Roy was his best friend and he could be about to kill that in an instant. Before he had time to register any of this, their lips were touching, only slightly, it didn’t take Danny long to notice that Roy didn’t seem to be kissing him back and he moved away quickly, hanging his head in shame. That was it, he’d ruined it all, their friendship was over.
"Danny I," Roy paused. Danny couldn't even look at him, he was terrified and his heart was beating double time. Of course it had to be that moment when the plane hit turbulence. Danny's knuckles were white from where he was clinging to the armrest between them. At that moment he was struggling to breathe. Roy rested his hand over Danny's, "look at me," he commanded but Danny still couldn't, keeping his eyes on the floor. After saying it a few more times, Roy gave in. He grabbed Danny's cheek and moved his head to face him. Danny finally moved his eyes to look at Roy, still in the midst of a panic attack. Before he could think, Roy's lips connected with his, this time actually kissing him. Danny could feel fireworks inside his chest, suddenly he wasn't so worried anymore. It didn't take long for their kiss to become more heated with Roy grabbing the back of Danny's head with one hand and caressing his cheek with the other. Meanwhile Danny's hands were roaming all over Roy's body, wanting to feel every part of him while he can. Their steamy makeout came to an abrupt end as the seat belt light above them turned off and they were no longer in turbulence. "Bathroom, 2 minutes," Roy whispered to Danny as he stood up, making his way to the back of the plane.
Danny took a deep breath in an attempt to compose himself. He looked around the cabin at the, mostly sleeping passengers, as he stood up. He made his way to the bathroom, seeing that the door was locked, and tapped on it rhythmically. He saw the lock go from red to green and let himself in, checking over his shoulder first.
Before Danny could even make it fully into the small bathroom, Roy was pushing him against the door, clicking the lock behind him. He pinned Danny's wrists above his head as he kissed him passionately, exactly the dominant lover Danny imagined him being. An involuntary whimper left Danny's mouth as he felt Roy's tongue on the roof of his mouth. Roy pulled away briefly, leaving Danny a light-headed panting mess. He threw his head back as Roy moved down his neck, kissing and nipping whilst moving his hands away from Danny's wrists, moving down his arms and resting at his waist. Danny wasted no time pulling Roy's head back up and wrapping his arms around his neck. Roy's hands slid down to undo Danny's jeans and starting teasing him through his boxers. Danny wasn't sure how to react, almost wanting to swat Roy's hand away because he didn't know what to do. Of course he'd done this before but this was different. It was Roy. Roy's hands delicately stroking him through his boxers almost as if he was afraid of hurting him. Just as he was thinking this, Roy pulled Danny's boxers down to his knees. Danny gasped as Roy pulled away, now wrapping his lips around Danny's cock, slowly moving up and down his shaft. It was an amazing feeling that Danny just wanted to last forever. Roy pulled his head back, swirling his tongue around the head before ducking back down, taking the whole of Danny deep into the back of his throat until he gagged. Danny could feel every muscle in his body relaxing as he knew he was close to climax already, a pitifully short amount of time. "Roy, please." Danny stammered, "please fuck me."
Just then, there was a knock on the door. "Sir, we will be landing shortly please make your way back to your seat." Both of the men giggled, embarrassed by the situation.
"That'll have to wait until the hotel," Roy whispered as he helped Danny get his pants back up.
"Is that a promise?" Danny replied, making Roy laugh and nod his head in response. Once both men had composed themselves they exited the bathroom, both looking down to hide how much they were blushing. Roy intertwined their fingers as they walked through the cabin back to their seats. Once theyd sat down, Danny looked down at their hands. He couldn't believe what just happened. This man he'd had a crush on for years may have actually felt the same. He kissed him on the cheek after they'd lock their seatbelts and rested his head on the older man's shoulder.
"Still scared of flying?" Roy asked, to which Danny laughed.
"Not if you'll do that more often."
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WSET Level One
I have some news to tell, a few weeks ago I found out that I officially passed the WSET Level One in Wines and Spirits, I'm now the proud owner of a certificate and a shiny new pin badge to prove it.
I thought I'd give you a run down of how Level One plays out, just in case I have any readers that are thinking of giving it a go - spoiler alert: it's SO MUCH fun! I'd recommend it to anyone who's even vaguely thinking of breaking into the industry, or even those like me who are just interested in learning more about wines in general.
I did my Level One at the Art School, Liverpool, who operate this qualification as a day course. The day started with our lovely teacher handing out the official WSET workbooks and giving us an outline of the day. During the morning we would tackle the meat of the information (while we still had a clear head), followed by a break for lunch then the tastings/food pairing element would happen in the afternoon with the exam rounding off the day.
It felt like being back at school and I have to admit that I totally got a bit of guilty pleasure from it. We worked through part one of the book, making our notes and getting to grips with what we'd be tested on that afternoon. We learned about styles of wine, production methods and about the major grape varieties. I was definitely getting serious High School Chemistry vibes! We also started to really think about aromas and how to taste wine correctly.
Post lunch, the tastings began. We tried a variety of reds/whites and dessert wines both on their own and with a selection of snacks that covered the five primary taste receptors - sweet, sour, umami, salty and bitter. The aim was to get us thinking about how the flavours of the wines are altered by what foods they're paired with, and to start us thinking about our palettes properly.
Then, the scary part - the exam. Full GSCE style, separated seats, no phones, regulation pencils the lot. We had 45 minutes to complete a thirty question multiple choice paper that covered what we learned that day. At the time I thought it went pretty well but I was so nervous as the time passed after the course was over. Finally, three weeks later, I found out that I'd passed with 75%.
I really can't recommend this course enough, I'll be back for Level Two for sure, hopefully before the end of this year if I can. Completing my Level One has really inspired me to keep going with this. I hope I've helped persuade a few of you to give it a go - I promise you won't regret it.
S xo
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POKÉMON AUTUMN VERSION
CHAPTER 6: Let’s Rock n’ Roll! Part 2
Previous Chapter: Extreme Mode Engaged!
Next Chapter: More Coming Soon!
Disclaimer: Pokémon is a property of Game Freak and Nintendo, while Endless Summer is a property of Pixelberry. I do not claim any rights here.
Author’s Note: If the “Keep reading” doesn’t work, go here for the full post. I’ve decided to split the chapter into 2 parts. Part 1 is here. The script is too long to fit in one chapter.
@princesstopgun, @mechaspirit, @lovearyn, @kaitloyalist, @choicesmarvel, @sceptilemasterr, @hey-its-vy, @skyila, @choicesyouplayandmore, @mysteli, @helentwombly, @scgdoeswhat, @choicesaholic, @jakemckenzietrash, @xo-endlessmayhem-xo, @abhirio, @diego-vii, @daniela2510, @izzycheeese, @brightpinkpeppercorn
Recommended Music: Contest! (Pokémon)
A few minutes later...
I.R.I.S.: And now to introduce our next contestant. She is the first place winner of the previous contest that took place in Orderve City. She also happens to be one of Vishakha’s favorites. Introducing Mika and her Espeon!
Mika and her Espeon rush out of the curtains and wave at the audience. With a smile on her face, Mika begins her performance.
Mika: Alright, Espeon, use Psyshock!
Espeon’s eyes glow as she conjures small spheres of psychic-energy and hovers them around the stage, illuminating the contest hall.
Mika: Good! Now, use Signal Beam!
Espeon charges the gem on her forehead and fires a prismatic beam towards the psychic spheres. The spheres puff into pink smoke and covers the entire stage. Mika and Espeon are concealed in the smoke.
Mika: Use Psychic, Espeon!
Espeon’s eyes glow and takes control of the giant smoke using telekinesis. She then spreads the smoke across the floor in the entire hall, like how a smoke machine functions. Mika then places her hand on Espeon’s head and calmly says...
Mika: Last one, use Synchronoise.
Espeon nods and the two take a deep breath. Mika quickly begins to sing with confidence, while Espeon amplifies her voice with her own psychic powers and Synchronoise. The entire crowd marvels at Mika’s soothing yet powerful voice.
Taari: Woah...
Reginald: She’s like...
Elena: Celine Dion...
Reginald: Exactly.
Mika finishes her performance with a last high pitch note and the entire crowd does a standing ovation. Mika and her Espeon smile at the cheering crowd who rains the two with roses.
Blight and the other contestants watch from the curtains.
Blight: Wait... when and where did the crowd get roses?
Kaitlyn: Look! There’s a guy there with a Roserade, using Petal Dance.
Blight: Oh! Makes sense...
The pink smoke clears and Vishakha stands from her throne to comment on Mika’s performance.
Vishakha: I gotta say that you have been killing it with these performances, Mika. First, a giant green owl, and now, a singing concert?! You guys have great talent!
Mika: Thanks a lot, Vishakha.
Mika and her Espeon happily walk out of the stage as I.R.I.S. reappears.
I.R.I.S.: And now to introduce our final contestant. She is the first place winner of the first contest of this year that took place in Metropeal City. She is also one of Vishakha’s favorites. Introducing Kaitlyn and her Serperior!
Serperior slithers from the curtain with Kaitlyn mounting her on the back. Kaitlyn then gets off of Serperior and begins their performance.
Kaitlyn: Right then. Serperior, use Grassy Terrain!
Serperior screeches and a field of plant life start to cover the entire stage. Grass grows from the floor; vines cover the walls and the ceiling; and flowers bloom from all the green.
Kaitlyn: Great! Now, use Leech Seed then Aqua Tail!
Serperior swings her tail and throws a bunch of seeds at the center of the grass field. Small saplings start to grow from where the seeds are thrown. Her tail then glows blue with Water-type energy as she leaps up and slams her tail on the ground. The water then helps the saplings grow into a large tree, with the top reaching the ceiling.
Kaitlyn: Use Leaf Storm, Serperior!
Serperior circles around the tree and a tornado of razor sharp leaves start to whirl around the tree. The leaves then leave lots of cuts across the tree, with some leaves piercing through it. It’s almost as if Serperior is trying to do wood carving.
Kaitlyn: Now, finish it with Aqua Tail!
Serperior’s tail glows blue again as she slams it at the stump of the tree. The sliced parts of the tree then fall of to reveal a giant wooden statue of Kaitlyn and Serperior. The two then do the same pose as the one in the statue.
The crowd clap their hands as the sunlight from the glass ceiling glistens the wooden statue. Kaitlyn and Serperior bow while Vishakha stands from her throne to give her comment.
Vishakha: You really have a thing for carving statues, huh? That’s two in a row, Kaitlyn and you’re rolling. Keep up the amazing work!
Kaitlyn: Thank you so much, Vishakha!
As Kaitlyn returns backstage, Vishakha turns to her sister, Rachel.
Vishakha: She’s got potential, you know? She might even beat me...
Rachel: You think so?
Vishakha: Mhm.
After the performances of all of the contestants, I.R.I.S. calls for an intermission while the results of the judgement are being tallied.
Recommended Music: Contest Lobby (Pokémon)
Taari, Reginald, Elena and Vishakha reach the back stage and regroups with Kaitlyn, Mika, Blight and Zh’en.
Blight: Yo!
Kaitlyn: Hey, guys!
Mika: Did you enjoy our performances?
Zh’en: H-Hey...
Taari rushes to Zh’en with a smile.
Taari: You were so awesome, Zh’en! I couldn’t stop dancing after what you did!
Zh’en: Hehe... Thanks, Taari...
Taari grins and jumps around, while Zh’en smiles and rubs her head shyly. Everyone else gives them some space to enjoy each other’s company. Reginald walks over at Kaitlyn and Mika.
Reginald: You guys were phenomenal as always. Your performances get better every time I see a new one!
Kaitlyn: Thanks, Reggie!
Mika: That really means a lot.
The three friends high five and hug each other. Vishakha and Elena approach Blight and Katherine.
Vishakha: Well if it isn’t the cookieless man.
Blight: Shush...
Elena: Your performance rocks. Pun intended.
Katherine giggles and hugs Blight. Blight looks over at Katherine and hugs her back.
Blight: Well, I had to do my best, since the two people I love the most gave it their all.
Katherine smiles and pecks Blight’s cheek, while Vishakha lightly punches his arm.
Vishakha: Gee. Thanks, Jester.
Katherine: Thank you, Blight.
Vishakha then approaches Mika and Kaitlyn.
Vishakha: You guys never cease to amaze me.
Kaitlyn: Well, we have to work harder to achieve our dreams.
Mika: We won’t lose no matter what.
Vishakha grins and hugs them both.
Vishakha: Just remember; whatever happens, always have someone who has your back... who keeps you motivated to work harder... who always picks you up when you’re down...
While Kaitlyn and Mika hug her back and smile, Vishakha looks over at her uncle Blight and Elena. Kaitlyn and Mika look over at Taari, Reginald, and at each other. The three smile, knowing that they have such important people in their lives.
A few minutes have passed and the audience returns to their seats in the contest hall, eager to hear the results of the contest. Vishakha and I.R.I.S. take the stage and call upon the top three contestants.
I.R.I.S.: Welcome back, ladies and gentlemen. It’s now time for us to announce the top three contestants of Ursidae Town’s Contest.
The auditorium becomes quiet as tension fills it. I.R.I.S. accesses the files regarding the results. She then announces the third place winner.
I.R.I.S.: For third place, we have Mika and her Espeon.
The audience claps at the mention of Mika’s name, as she approaches to receive the Bronze Ribbon. Meanwhile, Taari, Reginald, and Elena clap as Mika enters the stage and receives a Bronze Ribbon. Vishakha approaches her and pins the ribbon.
Vishakha: Congratulations, Mika. Your singing voice was amazing to get you this far.
Mika: Thank you so much, Vishakha.
The two smile at each other and exchange hugs afterwards.
I.R.I.S.: For second place, we have Zh’en and his Sableye!!
The audience cheers loudly at the mention of Zh’en’s name. She happily enters the stage while Taari cheers loudly from his seat. Reginald and Elena smirk at him. Vishakha approaches Zh’en and pins the ribbon.
Vishakha: That was a perfect first performance, Zh’en. You have a bright future ahead of you. Keep it up.
Zh’en: Thank you, Vishakha!
The two exchange hugs with a smile.
I.R.I.S.: And finally, the moment we’ve been waiting for. For first place, we have… Blight and his Noivern!!
The audience bursts into a deafening cheer. Taari, Reginald and Elena lose their minds and started jumping around. Kaitlyn, Mika and Zh’en clap excitedly while Katherine covers her mouth with her hands and cries tears of joy as Blight runs to the stage. He and Vishakha grin at each other proudly. Vishakha then pins the ribbon on his outfit.
Vishakha: Congratulations, Jester. You really are awesome! I told you that you won’t regret this decision. I saw the thrill in your eyes earlier.
Blight: Heh. Thanks, your Highness. And you’re right; I don’t regret it. It’s the most fun I’ve had all year.
Blight reaches for a handshake but Vishakha shrugs it off. Instead, she pulls her uncle into a tight hug. Blight smiles and hugs her back.
I.R.I.S.: That’s it for Ursidae Town’s Contest. The next contest takes place in Aegis Town. Till next time, ladies and gentlemen! Thank you and good night!
Recommended Music: Friend A (Your Lie in April)
After the contest ends, Kaitlyn is backstage and leans onto a wall. Vishakha enters and sees her.
Vishakha: Hey...
Kaitlyn: Oh, hey, Vishakha...
Even though Kaitlyn tries her best to hide it, Vishakha can still see her sadness.
Vishakha: Kaitlyn... you’re...
Kaitlyn: I know... I know... I lost...
Vishakha pulls Kaitlyn in a comforting embrace and tries to lift her spirits up.
Kaitlyn: I didn’t even get to be in the top three....
Vishakha: Sshh... don’t think about that too much. Just keep moving forward. Failing hurts. I know. I’ve been there. But someone once told me; “One will never know true success without first knowing failure.” And from that moment, I didn’t let my failures break me. Instead, I let them teach me, train me into someone better.
The two girls pull away.
Kaitlyn: You really think that I’ll be as good as you?
Vishakha: Yeah... Heck, maybe you’re even better!
Kaitlyn giggles and smiles.
Kaitlyn: Thank you, Vishakha...
Vishakha: There we go! A smile!
The two pull each other into another hug and rejoin the others.
Recommended Music: Surf and Sand (ES)
After the contest, the kids are hanging around the lobby. Hugs are exchanged as the kids start to congratulate Mika, Kaitlyn and Zh’en.
Reginald: That was truly the best contest I’ve seen so far.
Kaitlyn: I’m so excited for the Grand Festival.
Mika: Me too!
Taari smiles and turns to Zh’en.
Taari: I hope you get to join the Grand Festival, Zh’en!
Zh’en: Yeah... I hope so too.
Zh’en smiles at Taari with confidence. Mika and Kaitlyn nod at each other and approach the Vaanti girl.
Mika: We’ll give you a chance, Zh’en.
Zh’en: Hmm?
Kaitlyn: It means that Mika and I won’t participate in the next contest, since we already have a place in the Grand Festival.
Zh’en: Really?
Mika: Mhm!
Blight: Plus, you have a higher chance of winning first place if the three of us don’t enter.
The kids turn to Blight.
Taari: You’re not participating in the next contest, Sir Blight?
Blight: Nope. I have more pressing matters in Aegis Town. Like speaking with Aleister.
Reginald: My father?
Blight: Yep. He hired me for a special Rourke International project. It’s classified.
Kaitlyn: Do your best and good luck then!
Blight: Thanks.
Vishakha approaches the group.
Vishakha: Come on. We’re having an buffet special in the hotel. You guys must be so hungry.
The stomachs of the kids growl and they laugh at each other. They join up with Blight, Vishakha, Katherine and the rest of the Aryndelle Princesses for a celebration. The group spends the entire night, bonding and partying to their heart content. They eventually go to sleep and get a good night’s rest.
The next day, Taari, Reginald, Kaitlyn and Elena are gathered in front of the Ursidae Gym. They all take a deep breath and nod at each other with determination.
Taari: Ready?
Reginald: Absolutely.
Kaitlyn: Yeah!
Elena: Let’s do this!
Taari grins and looks at the Gym.
Taari: Here we go!
The third contest of La Huerta comes into a close as the challengers make their way towards the Ursidae Gym. How will Craig become a challenge to them? FIND OUT IN THE NEXT EPISODE OF POKÉMON SUMMER VERSION!!
#choices#choices stories you play#playchoices#Endless Summer#pokemon x endless summer#taari#reginald rourke#iris#blightarts#princesstopgun#mechaspirit
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Universe Falls Chapter 51
SURPRISE BITCHES!!!! AHAHAHAHAHAH GUESS WHO WROTE AN ENTIRE ORIGINAL CHAPTER OF UNIVERSE FALLS PRETTY MUCH ENTIRELY UNDER WRAPS! YEAH THAT”S RIGHT FUCKIN ME! AND WOOO BOY IS THIS ONE A FUCKING DOOZY TOO! ARC 6 OPENS WITH ANGST AHAHAHAHAH But yeah this one is like... completely original and it kinda is mostly a bunch of character interaction, going downward from the last chapter and whatnot,, yadda yadda whatever whatever. Either way, I hope you enjoy it because its time for some BOMBSHELLS AHAHAHAH WOO BABY!
Previous: http://minijenn.tumblr.com/post/172209617169/universe-falls-chapter-50-part-2
Chapter 51: Lost and Found
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A teardrop splashed onto the page, staining it as the hand writing the letter stilled. A tug of grief pulled at the writer’s heart, grief that prompted even more tears as they continued their letter.
“I should have told them.”
Their script was flowing and elegant, but their message was sad and solemn, though hard to make out through their pressing tears. Still, it was a message that needed to be relayed all the same, even if they weren’t sure their intended recipient would ever receive them.
“If I had just let them know about the danger we were facing from the beginning, then maybe none of this would have happened…”
They sighed, pausing to shake their head remorsefully. It seemed as though regrets of the past never really died, no matter how much time and healing passed.
“But I did what I had to… for them… for us…”
The very act of writing the letter itself was becoming almost too painful to bear, given the nature of it, but they had put this off long enough. If they didn’t finish this now, then chances are, they never would.
“If you were still here, then I know you’d understand…”
The letter was nearing its end now, but even so, it still felt incredibly incomplete. After all, there was so very much to say that a simple handwritten page couldn’t ever hope to contain it all.
“But you’re gone… and its all my fault… just like everything else…”
Another tear slipped down their cheek, just one more do add to the almost endless flow that had begun even before they had ever sat down to write this letter. A letter that could only ever serve as a forever insufficient, eternally empty way of reckoning with the wrongs of the past.
“And I’m so, so sorry… for everything I’ve done…”
Steven awoke with a gasp, his eyes wide as soon as they opened as his mind reeled from whatever it was he had just dreamt about. By all accounts, what he had just seen made no sense to him whatsoever, but what made even less sense was the fact that his cheeks were damp with tears. Apparently, the very same tears he seemed to have shed in his unexplainable, context-free dream.
Yet that wasn’t all. As the young Gem slowly pulled himself up out of bed and wiped his face dry, he couldn’t help but feel weighed down by a wave of immense guilt, guilt that he couldn’t really pin the source down for. After all, the only things he had fallen asleep with last night had been worry and uncertainty given everything that had happened the previous day and all that had been uncovered, but for once, he had been relatively free of any tangible guilt. So then why did he feel like he had done something so horribly, unforgivably wrong?
For a moment, Steven simply sat on the edge of his bed, trying to sort these mysterious, almost random feelings out, quite alarmed by just how heavy they seemed to be. And yet, his focus was soon diverted away from his own confusion emotions as he overheard quiet voices coming from the front porch. Steven’s brow furrowed as he recognized these voices to be those of the Gems, and given just how shaken they had all been the last time he saw them the previous night, he couldn’t help but tiptoe down from the loft and press against the wall near the door to listen to what they were saying.
“There’s no denying that he was close to Rose,” Garnet said, leaning against the railing as Pearl hung close to her, though Amethyst was oddly somewhat distanced from them. “The journals alone are proof of that.”
Steven quickly realized that the Gems had to be talking about Ford based on this mention of the journals, and even though he felt somewhat bad for eavesdropping on them, he couldn’t resist. Especially given the apparent and now forgotten camaraderie between them that the young Gem still wanted to know more about.
“W-well even if they do, that doesn’t mean we can just take everything he told us yesterday at face value,” Pearl huffed crossly. “For all we know, he could have been fabricating any given part of all that just to… to save face or something.”
“As far as I can tell, he’d have no reason to lie,” Garnet shook her head, her manner seemingly calm, though there was still some uncertainty beneath it. “And the evidence does add up: our gems on the portal, what happened in the bunker and with the Society… Everything points to the fact that there was indeed a time that we worked together with Stanford. We just don’t remember it.”
“And that’s exactly the problem!” the white Gem moaned impatiently. She paused for a moment, anxiety filling her features before she spoke up again, her voice even softer as she clasped her hands together tightly. “G-Garnet? I… I know this is ridiculous to even bring up but… what Stan said yesterday about Rose knowing something regarding our memories… you don’t think-?”
“H-hey! Ste-man!” Amethyst suddenly spoke up with a tightly forced grin upon noticing Steven standing on the other side of the screen door. The young Gem flinched, having wanted to remain discreet, but still, he emerged from the house nonetheless somewhat sheepishly as Amethyst continued greeting him. “H-how ya feeling? You somehow manage to get some shut-eye after, uh… everything that went down yesterday?”
“Y-yes,” Pearl chimed in, offering her young ward a placating smile. “We know that a lot happened yesterday, what with the agents, the portal and everything else, s-so if you feel like you need to talk through any of it, t-then we’re right here to listen.”
Steven frowned as he took in the warm, but ultimately fake smiles each of his guardians were offering, smiles that were merely serving as masks for much deeper, underlying dread and apprehension. “Uh… I think I’m ok…” Steven said evenly enough, though this wasn’t entirely the truth. For much like the Gems, he too was quite concerned by the accusation that his mother had some knowledge of what happened to their missing memories, an accusation that, by all accounts, he didn’t want to believe just as much as they didn’t. Still, he didn’t bring this up just yet, at least not so directly. “But um… i-is there anything you guys wanna talk about?”
The Gems exchanged a surprised glance at this, but even so, Amethyst played it off. “Uh… like what?”
“Like…” Steven bit his lip, unsure of where he really wanted to go. After all, there was so much to talk about in light of what happened in the past 24 hours alone that it felt like he’d never truly be able to cover it all. Still, he figured he’d start with at least one of his pressing curiosities. “Like, are you guys… mad at Mr. Ford for… well, for what happened back when Mom was still around?”
“Steven, we don’t remember what happened back then,” Pearl sighed, glancing away. “And even if we did, we’d be hard pressed to forgive Stanford based on everything he told us about that disastrous machine of his…”
“Well, to me it seems like he just made a mistake…” Steven said somewhat sympathetically. “And he made it sound like it was a mistake that he was pretty sorry about and that he did just about everything he could to try and fix.”
While Amethyst and Pearl didn’t share this sentiment, Garnet couldn’t help but smile somewhat at this as she placed a gentle hand on top of her young ward’s head. “Maybe you’re right, Steven,” she said, catching her teammates off guard somewhat. “But there’s only one way we can know for sure: we need to find our lost memories, once and for all. There can be no more putting this off. As of right now, it’s the only way we can finally learn what really happened for ourselves and why.”
“But how are we supposed to do that?” Amethyst asked hesitantly. “We still got like, no clues about what happened to them. Well, unless you wanna believe what Stan said,” the purple Gem scoffed harshly upon mentioning the conman, her ire towards him over his betrayal still quite apparently. “Which I sure as heck don’t.”
“Neither do I,” Pearl asserted firmly. “There’s no way Rose had any involvement in what happened to our memories. More likely than not, that was just another one of Stan’s countless lies and after everything we’ve seen and heard yesterday, I’d say he’s just about the least credible source of information out there!”
“Well… what about Mr. Ford?” Steven suggested thoughtfully. “I mean, he seems like he’s really smart; he did write the journals and he built that portal, so… maybe he might be able to help us figure this out.”
The Gems were hesitant about this idea, to say the least, their expressions alone conveying that none of them were really too keen on asking the author for help in this matter. Still, given the fact that they had essentially no leads, none of them could deny that the assistance of a proven genius would be rather welcome in solving this long ongoing mystery. Or at least getting somewhere closer to the truth than they had ever been before. Which was why, when Pearl and Amethyst looked to her for the final verdict on this plan, Garnet simply shrugged, showing that she was every bit as clueless as they were for a change. “It’s worth a try.”
A great deal could change over the course of 30 years; this was something that Ford was well aware of, largely since it was a matter of common logic. But what exactly had changed during his absence was what the author hadn’t been able to anticipate, and as he reacclimated himself to his native dimension, he was quick to find that some changes were much more alarming than others. For example, the discovery that he now had a great niece and nephew was fitting, welcome even given that he had never really had the chance to be much of an uncle prior to the portal incident. The revelation that Rose was no longer around and the Gems bore no recollection of him, however, was much more shocking and much more disheartening, to the point that he was still largely trying to process it all himself. But at the moment, the change that Ford found the most appalling and offending was what Stan had apparently done to his home over the past 30 years, both cosmetically and functionally.
What was once his proud and stately research base had been transformed into a tacky, homely tourist trap dubbed the “Mystery Shack”, of all things. Ford scoffed to himself as he stood outside of it, sketching the changes to its exterior out in his third journal as a form of venting his frustrations. It was bad enough that Stan had embezzled his name, but to turn his property, his home into a tawdry, fabricated sideshow for mindless vacationers to pass through and sink their money into was perhaps the most disrespectful slight his brother had made against him yet. Which was why Ford had absolutely no qualms about sending Stan the harshest glare he could muster upon noticing the conman emerge from the shack a moment later.
“Mornin’, Sixer,” Stan greeted casually enough, even though he was still aware he was essentially walking on eggshells with his brother now. Which, of course, was far from what he had wanted after finally saving him after 30 years, but even so he had no choice to accept the tense state of things between them. For now, at least. “What are you up to? Makin’ up for lost time by writing more ‘nerd notes’ in those ‘nerd books’ of yours?”
Ford’s glower deepened somewhat upon hearing this teasing, teasing that he would have laughingly accepted from Stan back when they were kids, but now only saw with contempt and bitterness. Much like how he viewed his brother in general at the moment. “Two things,” he began coldly as he shut the journal. “One: my journals are not so-called ‘nerd books’. They’re important, highly detailed chronicles of my research of Gravity Falls, and after wrongfully using their knowledge for the past 30 years now, I’d think you’d have finally come to understand that, Stanley.”
“Yeesh, I almost forgot how annoying you are when you get into one of your little ‘genius’ rants,” Stan rolled his eyes at Ford’s sour scolding. Still, the author paid his callous remark no mind as he continued.
“Two: care to explain the meaning of this?” he nodded to the Mystery Shack, his expression alone conveying that he was far from supportive of it.
“What’s there to explain?” Stan shrugged. “Like I said yesterday, I did what I had to do to keep things up and running here. It gave me a way to keep your bills paid so I could stay here and keep working on your dumb portal. When you think about it, the Mystery Shack pretty much saved both our butts, whether you wanna admit that or not.”
“Did it ever occur to you that maybe I didn’t want to be saved?” Ford asked sharply. “That perhaps I was willing and ready to sacrifice my own wellbeing for the sake of protecting the entire universe by wanting the portal to remain deactivated forever?”
“Ugh, you sound just like Rose used to with all that self-righteous garbage,” Stan remarked dryly. “No wonder you two were such good friends; you two are probably the some of the most pretentious know-it-alls the world’s ever seen. Well, you and Pearl.”
Ford’s reaction to this was much harsher than Stan had been expecting as he took a step closer, his expression fierce with genuine fury. “Say what you want about me, but you will not disrespect Rose Quartz like that,” he growled bitterly. “She is—was one of the closest and most trusted friends I’ve ever known, even despite everything that regrettably went wrong between us. In fact, Stanley, I’d even say that she’s done more for me than you ever have.”
It took every ounce of willpower Stan had in him to keep himself from punching his brother square in the face upon hearing this. Because how dare he uphold the honor of the Gem who had stubbornly tried to keep him trapped in another dimension for thirty years as opposed to take the side of his own brother who had risked so much and worked so hard to save him. But even if he didn’t intend to physically harm Ford, that still didn’t stop Stan from lashing out and grabbing his brother by the collar of his sweater and sending him an incredibly harsh glare. “Listen here, Sixer,” he began, his tone chillingly hostile. “You’re kidding yourself if you think that stupid pink broad was some kinda perfect saint, because she was just about the exact opposite of that. She was nothing but a lying, stubborn, selfish bi-”
“Grunkle Stan? Grunkle Ford?” Stan instantly cut himself off upon hearing Mabel’s confused questioning. The brothers starkly turned to see their nibblings both emerging from the shack, Dipper a good bit behind Mabel, though neither of the kids seemed to be in really high spirits as they looked to their uncles questioningly upon seeing how Stan was holding onto Ford rather threateningly. “What’s going on?”
Stan was quick to release Ford after a beat of somewhat awkward silence and both brothers readily scowled away from each other, giving the younger twins a pretty good impression of what was going on, despite their uncles’ attempts at playing it off. “Uh, n-nothing!” Stan remarked with a forced, fake smile. “Me and your Grunkle Ford were just, uh… we were…”
“We were just… catching up,” Ford finished, sending another critical glance Stan’s way before he turned to address his nibblings with a much softer expression. “Anyway… Good morning, children. How are you feeling? Neither of you are suffering from any sort of portal radiation from yesterday, are you?”
“Uh, no, I don’t think so…” Mabel said, innocently shaking her head. “But I am going through a bit of a sugar rush from the baker’s dozen of super chocolatey chunk cupcakes I had for breakfast!”
Ford took pause, looking to his niece with apt concern upon hearing this, though he didn’t get much of a chance to ask Stan about her nutrition habits before Dipper cut in. “Don’t worry, Mabel’s pretty much on a perpetual sugar rush,” he said dismissively, ignoring his sister’s flustered scoff as he perked up while addressing the author. “B-but anyway, Great Uncle Ford, I was just wondering… Did you really take on a Gremloblin on your own? What do you think the secret behind the bottomless pit really is? Have the Gems ever told you any huge secrets about the war or Homeworld? Do you think there are any ghosts out there above a category ten? Did you and the Gems ever try to find a way to fix corrupted Gems? What did you do when-”
“Ah, s-slow down, my boy,” Ford interupted with something of a bemused chuckle at this round of rapid-fire, curious inquiries. “Based on all those questions, it seems as though you really weren’t kidding yesterday when you said you read my journals.”
“Oh, several times over, at least,” Dipper said with clear pride over this fact. “Well… to be honest, the only one I’ve really gotten the chance to read is the third one, but it’s still super informative!”
“Hm…” Ford duly noted, raising an eyebrow as he flipped through the later pages of the journal still in his hands. “So I would be correct in assuming that you were the one who made all these… additions to this one, then?”
Dipper’s excited manner faltered upon noticing that Ford looked less than pleased about the notes he had compiled on his own within journal 3 throughout the summer. “Um, y-yeah, I… sorry…” he muttered, glancing down sheepishly as he realized his unintentional slight against the author. After all, he could have never even considered that when he first began recording his findings on the journal’s empty pages, but now he wished he had never written anything on them at all in light of the disapproval he had apparently garnished from his longtime unknown idol.
Mabel was the first to pick up upon her brother’s newfound fretfulness, but as soon as she placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, Dipper was quick to pull it away with returned bitterness, refusing to so much as even glance over at her. Proof that he was still just as upset with her as he had been last night, something that only served to make Mabel feel even worse about it all.
Stan readily noticed the shared, silent despondency of both his nibblings, and he was quick to blame Ford for it as he sent him a sharp, almost furious glare. The author himself didn’t really notice that though as much as he did his own tactlessness towards his nephew in particular, but before he could make an attempt to apologize for it, the informal family gathering was suddenly interupted.
“Hey, Mr. Pines!” Soos exclaimed with a cheerful grin as both him and Wendy showed up for their shift. “And hey, Mr. Pines!” the handyman greeted again, this time to Ford as he passed him by.
“’Sup, Stan Two?” Wendy nodded to the author sardonically, already well informed of his arrival thanks to Soos’ thorough recounting of the tale. “Nice turtleneck.”
While Ford was rather confused by the pair’s arrival, Stan spoke up with something of a relieved sigh, glad that his employees unknowingly broke through the ongoing tension. “Glad to see you two are actually both on time for a chance,” he remarked, crossing his arms. “I don’t expect any customers today, but as you can tell, the shack is kinda torn up from yesterday’s fiasco, so get to work and make this place look a little less like a sci-fi portal exploded underneath it, ok?”
“You got it, Mr. Pines!” Soos grinned with an eager thumbs up as him and Wendy headed off, though he didn’t hesitate to express his excitement to his coworker in a frenetic whisper. “See? I told you, Wendy! There really are two Stans around here now! Isn’t it great?!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Wendy remarked dryly, pulling her phone out of her pocket and disinterestedly texting away. “Of course, it would’ve been better if you hadn’t kept me up until 3 AM last night telling me about it.”
“Oh yeah…” the handyman frowned briefly, though he hardly let this dim his innocent elation over it all. “Sorry! Next time we have a bunch of huge truthbombs drop on us, I’ll only keep you up till 2 AM to tell you about them!”
“…Gee, thanks, Soos,” Wendy deadpanned, rolling her eyes as the pair went about their respective tasks for the day.
“Stanley,” Ford began as soon as the cashier and the handyman were out of earshot. “Who are those two… young adults?”
“Uh, my employees, poindexter,” Stan said. “You already met Soos yesterday, and the sarcastic one is Wendy. Might as well get used to seeing them around here, just like the Gems. Speaking of which…” The conman let out an aggravated sigh as he nodded ahead to the Gems and Steven as they came down for the temple, their expressions all rather tense and uncertain as they approached the Pines, who returned their gazes just as stiffly.
“Uh, h-hey, you guys,” Steven greeted them with a small, but genuine smile.
“Hi, Steven,” Mabel said just as awkwardly, though her smile faded as she glanced to the rest of her family. Dipper still stood alongside her, but he refused to spare either her or the young Gem another glance, Stan’s expression was still set in a cold scowl away from just about everyone, and Ford was clearly apprehensive and anxious as he gave the Gems only a terse nod of greeting. One that none of them made any sort of effort to return.
“So… um… h-how is everyone after, uh… yesterday…?” Steven asked unsteadily, rather concerned that the Gems hadn’t stepped forward to address Ford concerning their memories yet, like they had previously planned.
“We… could be better…” Mabel noted, rubbing her arm as she looked over to Dipper once more. “R-Right, bro-bro?”
Of course, Dipper didn’t bother giving her any sort of response as he instead turned away from her even more, his arms crossed as he let out a small, almost bitter sigh. Steven and Mabel exchanged a silent, worried glance at this, realizing that he was still clearly upset with them from what happened yesterday. Though exactly why he was still carrying this grudge so heavily and adamantly was beyond either of them.
Even so, a bout of general uneasy silence lingered between both the Pines and the Gems, none of them quite sure of what to say in the aftermath of all that had unfolded, mostly as a result of no one really knowing where they stood with each other now. Things between the kids alone were shaken and soured, but then there was the tenuous, largely forgotten ties between Ford and the Gems, not to mention the distain still very much present between Stan and Ford themselves. Really, it was as though they were all on unstable ground with each other, friendships fractured, relationships ruined, and everything else left in just as many shambles as the shack standing before them currently was.
Still, that didn’t mean there could be no attempt at fixing at least some of it.
“Hey, uh… Amethyst?” Stan spoke up, looking to the purple Gem apprehensively as she finally spared a glare in his direction. “I, uh… um… I was thinkin’ of blowing off some steam after everything that’s happened with a good ol’ Revenge Trip tonight. Are you along for the ride or what?”
“I dunno,” Amethyst muttered, her arms tightly crossed as she scowled away from him. “I think I’m gonna be busy doing just anything but that.”
Everyone was rather taken aback by the fire in the purple Gem’s tone as she said this, especially Stan as he flinched back, as if her harsh words had actually hurt him, which in a way, they did. Fortunately, they didn’t linger in the air for too long before Ford cut in, collectively addressing all of the Gems, though not without clearing his throat somewhat awkwardly. “So, h-how are you three doing? Have you happened to recall any of your memories of our… time together?”
“A-actually…” Pearl began, averting the author’s gaze as she spoke tightly. “That’s… why we’re here… we… w-well, we were hoping that… we… you-”
“We need your help,” Garnet finally finished where Pearl was unable to out of pride.
“Oh, r-really?” Ford asked, somewhat surprised by this request. “With what?”
“With finding our lost memories,” the Gem leader continued just as evening. “At this point, we’re not sure who else we can go to aid us with this, and so we have no choice but to ask you.”
Ford took pause, both confused and somewhat offended by the Gems’ apparent hesitance to seek his assistance, something that Steven in particular noticed and quickly made an attempt to clarify. “Uh, I-I think what they meant is that we think you could really help us figure all this out, Mr. Ford,” he said with a warm, hopeful smile. “Your journals already proved to us how great you are at solving mysteries, so this one’s bound to be a cinch for you!”
The author finally grinned at this, clearly glad for this vote of confidence as he began to exude the very same confidence himself. “Ah, yes, well in that cause, I’d be more than happy to help in any way I can, just as I said I would yesterday,” Ford said, adjusting his glasses as he offered the Gems a genuinely friendly smile, one that none of them returned, though their expressions did soften somewhat. “Now, I suppose the best place to start would likely be… Oh! I know! The memory gun! Back when Fiddleford built that infernal contraption, I had always doubted that it would be able to work on Gems, but seems as though it could be the very thing responsible for stripping you three of your memories!”
“Uh… yeah, we already figured that,” Amethyst huffed, rolling her eyes.
“And that wretched Society of the Blind Eye didn’t have our memories in their archives,” Pearl added with a frown. “So where exactly are they? And who would dare to even take them in the first place? And why?”
“…Those are all very good questions…” Ford noted thoughtfully. “We have the answer as to how, but everything else is still up in the air… Which means that we’ll need to look into a variety of possible scenarios that could have resulted in the loss of your memories. Its bound to be a lengthy process, given how many sheer possibilities there are, so we’ll have to be patient and hope for the best in analyzing each of them.”
“Ugh, we’re tired of waiting!” Amethyst groaned hotly. “We’ve been waiting to figure this junk out all summer! We want our memories back now!”
“That’s… understandable…” the author remarked, trying his best to remain tactful amidst the Gems’ mutually thin patience. “But relatively unlikely. I’m sorry to say this, but to me it seems as though finding the key to restoring your memories could take quite some time, if we can even find it at all.”
Despite their shared disappointment upon hearing this sum of probability, the Gems didn’t get to voice it as a familiar horn blared out, followed by the arrival of a familiar van. Greg sped into the shack’s lot, slamming on the breaks as he stuck his head out the window rather frantically. “Steven! Thank goodness you’re ok!” he cried, jumping out of the vehicle to rush over to embrace his son. “I wanted to come check on you as soon as I saw that huge explosion of light on this end of town, but the road here was blocked off by this huge tree and they only just cleared it out this morning! Heck, it took so long to get over here that I even managed to pick Connie up along the way.”
“Steven! Dipper! Mabel!” Connie called as she hopped out of the van herself and hurried over to her friends. “Are you guys alright? I haven’t been able to get in touch with any of you since the other day! What’s been going on!?”
“I think the better question is what hasn’t been going on…” Dipper remarked somewhat dryly.
“Connie! You’ll never believe what happened!” Steven exclaimed. “We just-”
“Wait! I wanna tell her!” Mabel excitedly cut in. “So it all started when Grunkle Stan got arrested by these government agents-”
“And they tried to take me and the Gems away too-” Steven interjected before Mabel carried on.
“So we tried to prove his innocence only to find out that he-”
“That he had all these fake IDs and this huge machine under the shack-”
“Which turned out to be this crazy powerful portal that his long-lost twin brother came out of-”
“And he wrote the journals and he used to work with my mom and the Gems years ago but-”
“But they kinda hate each other now and everything’s all awkward and weird and confusing-”
“But we’re trying to sort it all out by finding the Gems’ lost memories by thinking about all the ways they could have lost them!”
“Pretty intense, huh?” Mabel finished this rapid-fire tale, one that left Connie aptly confused as she tried and failed to catch up with it all.
“Uh… what?”
“Long story short,” Dipper cut in much more calmly. “Is that Grunkle Stan’s been hiding an interdimensional portal under the shack all summer that he opened up again to bring his brother back here.”
“Ohh…” Connie mused in understanding. “That makes much more sense! Well… kind of. The whole ‘interdimensional portal’ thing is something you guys will definitely have to fill me in on later.”
“Would you believe that’s hardly even the craziest part of it all?” Dipper asked with a small, but growing smile of excitement as he dropped down to a whisper. “The craziest and the best part is that Stan’s brother, our Great Uncle Ford, just so happens to be the author of the journals himself!”
“Wait, what!?” Connie gasped, completely stunned upon hearing this and knowing full well just how baffling this mystery had been to them all for the entire summer. “You guys finally met the author?! And he’s your uncle?! No way!”
“Way!” Mabel chimed in brightly. “And you gotta meet him too, Connie! Come on!” Before Connie could really even respond to this, Mabel and Steven were pulling her over to where Ford was still in the midst of conversing with the Gems, largely not paying much mind to the two new arrivals as the continued discussing matters of memory. Or at least they were until Mabel blithely interupted. “Grunkle Ford, this is our friend, Connie!”
“I-it’s an honor to meet you, sir!” Connie said with an amazed smile as she shook the author’s hand. “Your work is so fascinating! Honestly, if it wasn’t for your journal then we probably wouldn’t have made it out of half of what we’ve been through this summer alive!”
“Oh, well… that’s… good to hear…” Ford noted, unsure of what to really make of that, though he offered Connie a small smile all the same. “What’s really fascinating (and rather concerning) though is just how many children seemed to have read through my research over the course of this summer alone…”
“Uh, we probably shouldn’t tell him that Gideon had his second journal then, should we?” Steven whispered somewhat awkwardly.
“Wait a second,” Greg interjected, having overheard the conversation. “I-I can’t believe it… You’re him!” The former rock star’s jaw was dropped as he approached the author, clearly in a state of disbelief that nobody else really understood. “You’re Stanford!”
“Um… yes?” Ford raised a confused eyebrow, unsure of what the former rock star’s apparent amazement was all about.
“Wow! This… this is incredible! I never thought I’d ever get the chance to actually meet you myself!” Greg exclaimed with an incredulous chuckle. “After all, Rose said you were basically gone for good but then again, Mr. Pines has been working on that portal to try and bring you back all these years, so I guess it’d only make sense that he’d finally get it up and running eventually.”
“Yeah, Greg,” Stan deadpanned, not noticing the Gems’ growing expressions of absolute shock beside him over what Greg was divulging. “Told ya I’d figure it out.”
“Heh, well, I’m sorry for ever doubting you, I guess,” the former rock star grinned, flusteredly rubbing the back of his neck before he turned back to Ford. “But man, if only Rose were here! She’d be so happy to see you again! Well… happy and maybe a little upset about the whole portal thing but still, she’d-”
“Excuse me,” Ford interupted rather stiffly. “But… who are you exactly?”
“Oh, right, sorry!” Greg laughed again as he shook the author’s hand warmly. “I’m Greg Universe; Steven’s dad.”
Ford was silent for a moment upon hearing this as he looked between the former rock star and the young Gem, his brow furrowing and his expression largely not changing as he put the pieces together. “So you and Rose were… I see…”
“Y-yeah, she… used to talk a lot about you,” Greg remarked, still grinning slightly. “In fact, she even-”
“Greg!” Pearl’s very sharp exclamation interupted the conversation, prompting the young rock star to glance over at the Gems. All three of whom looked simultaneously dumbfounded and outraged all at once. “You knew about the portal?!”
“I, uh… oh!” Greg gasped, his eyes wide as he looked between the angry trio in newfound fear. “D-did I say portal? I-I… I meant, um… I didn’t know anything about any… w-well, you see, I-”
“Forget it, Greg,” Stan remarked, rolling his eyes at his former employee’s hectic attempt to explain. “The jig is up. They already know about everything.”
“No, we don’t!” Pearl scoffed, completely appalled. “We don’t know a thing about what’s happened to our missing memories and we certainly don’t know why Greg, of all people would know more about all this than we do!”
“D-Dad?” Steven spoke up apprehensively. “You don’t… y-you wouldn’t know anything about what happened to the Gems’ memories about Mr. Ford and the portal… would you?”
Greg froze up at this, this question completely catching him off guard, especially as he looked to the Gems starkly. All three of them were silently demanding answers, answers that he had no idea how to give, even if he could. So instead, he went with the easier alternative. “N-no,” he shook his head, his voice shaky as he tried to sound as convincing as possible. “R-Rose… Rose never told me anything about that. I’m sorry…”
“What do ya mean Rose never told you about that?!” Amethyst spat harshly. “Seems like she sure had a heck of a time telling you everything else!”
“Everything she didn’t bother telling us…” Garnet added, clearly hosting a glare underneath her shades.
“W-wha—no!” Pearl exclaimed hotly. “You two can’t be serious! Rose couldn’t have known what happened to our memories! It makes no sense!”
“What doesn’t make any sense is that she would have told Greg about all of this and not us,” Garnet remarked, adjusting her shades as she tried to remain as calm and as rational as possible.
“M-maybe she just never got the chance to?” Steven offered anxiously. “L-like… maybe your memories were erased right after I was born.”
“But that wouldn’t make add up,” Dipper interested, shaking his head. “Grunkle Stan said something about their memories being erased almost 22 years ago.”
“Well, I mean, as far as I know,” Stan said with a small shrug, unwitting eliciting ire from the Gems with such a remark.
“And how exactly would you know that?” Pearl asked, glaring coldly at the conman. “Unless you happened to have some hand in all this yourself, Stan!”
“Ugh, seriously, with this whole accusation thing again?” Stan scoffed. “I already told you, I don’t know anything about what happened! And even if I did, why would I keep something like that hidden from you three for so long?”
“Oh gee, I dunno, Stan,” Amethyst growled sharply. “Maybe for the same reason you kept that dumb machine hidden from us! Or those fake IDs! Or every other stupid secret you’ve been sitting on for years now without even thinking about being honest for a change!”
“It seems as though you would have a pretty good motive,” Garnet nodded. “With us not knowing about the portal, that likely made it easier for you to work on it without us trying to stop you like Rose would have wanted.”
“A-and for all we know you probably recruited Greg back when he used to work here to help you keep all this under wraps,” Pearl huffed angrily, shooting a fierce glance over at the former rock star as well. “Both of you were in on this for all these years! You must have thought that you weren’t going to get caught, but you are, so you might as well just admit it, Stan, and tell us where our memories are already!”
“I ain’t admitting nothing because I didn’t do anything!” Stan protested adamantly. “Even if I did keep this whole portal thing under wraps from just about everyone else, I never went after your memories to keep you three from getting in my way! That’d be just stupid!”
“Well, then it sounds like it would be exactly your kind of plan, Stan,” Pearl remarked crossly.
“Oh I’ll show ya what my kinda plan is!” the conman exclaimed, beyond infuriated by these groundless allegations to the point that things quickly devolved into an all-out shouting match on both sides. With both Stan and the Gems as outright outraged as they were, they held nothing back as they argued brutally, all of them acting off emotions rather than any real logic as they held their grounds against each other. The others were all rather surprised to see things heat up so aggressively, especially the kids as they stood on the sidelines, watching in dismay as everything seemed to explode in absolute fury all at once.
“I don’t think I’ve ever seen the Gems so mad before…” Connie muttered, her eyes wide in alarm.
“Me either…” Mabel agreed stiffly. “But I don’t get it. Why do they think Stan got rid of their memories? He’d never, ever do something like that!”
“Yeah, just like he wouldn’t run an incredibly dangerous portal underneath the Mystery Shack, right?” Dipper asked, his tone quite dour as he crossed his arms and largely dropped out of the conversation.
“Uh, w-well, either way, we’re not gonna figure out what really happened to the Gems’ memories with everyone arguing like this,” Steven said earnestly. “Come on, you guys, we have to do something!”
Mabel and Connie were quick to follow after the young Gem, intent on trying to make peace between the conman and the Gems. Dipper, on the other hand, hung back somewhat, his hands shoved into his vest pockets as he instead glanced over at Ford, opting to discreetly listen in on the conversation that was just striking between him and Greg.
“Hey, uh… M-Mr. Pines?” the former rock star began rather awkwardly.
“Please, call me Stanford.”
“Oh, um, ok, Mr. Stanford,” Greg continued, still being as respectful as he could. “I just, uh… W-well I know the Gems aren’t really in the mood to hear this right now, but I didn’t… I wasn’t-”
“You didn’t have anything to do with what happened to the Gems’ memories?” Ford finished presumptuously, glancing the former rock star up and down. “Well, I figured that much, considering how you and Rose were apparently… ahem, together. At the same time, I also don’t think Stanley was responsible for this either. My brother may be a lying, unscrupulous cheapskate, but despite his many faults, it seems highly unlikely that he’d do something as lowbrow as outright take a person’s—or Gem’s, for that matter—memories . Then again, I suppose there really is no way to know for sure until we figure this mess out once and for all.”
“Um, yeah, about that…” Greg took in a somewhat unsteady breath. “I… Well, Rose, she-” The former rock star cut himself off, dropping his voice down to a serious whisper. “Look, she missed you… a lot. Heck, almost every time she brought you up, she’d end up blaming herself for what happened to you.”
“But it wasn’t her fault,” Ford said, his tone softening quite a bit upon hearing this.
“Well, of course it wasn’t,” Greg agreed. “But you know Rose; she always felt so much for everyone, especially her friends.”
“That she did…” the author remarked with a fond smile in the pink Gem’s memory. “And our friendship was one I always valued very highly. I only wish… I wish I could have had the chance to speak to her one last time, even if it was only for the sake of saying a proper farewell… I still can’t believe she’s really gone…”
“A lot of the time, neither can I…” the former rock star glanced down sadly. “But, she always wanted one last chance to talk to you too, which was why… right before she had Steven she sat down and wrote everything she never got the chance to say to you out. She said she didn’t know if you’d ever make it back here, but if you ever did, then she wanted you to have it. So she gave it to me to hold onto, just in case, and now that you actually are back, well, you might as well have it.”
Ford was rather surprised to hear that Rose had apparently left him some sort of note, but all the same, he followed Greg over to his van, where the former rock star dug around the back of the vehicle for a bit before finally finding what he was looking for. “Aha! Here it is,” he grinned as he pulled a light pink envelope out and presented it to Ford. “And here you go. To be honest, nobody’s ever seen what it says before. I just… didn’t think it’d be right to read something that she only meant for you, you know?”
The author was silent at first, his eyes wide as he held the envelope, apparently the last message Rose Quartz herself had left for him, as though it was the most precious and fragile thing in the entire world. And given just how much the fact that it existed at all meant to him, it very well could have been. “I… T-thank you… Greg,” Ford said, absolutely genuine in this sentiment.
“You’re welcome,” the former rock star said warmly, nodding his affirmation before stepping away to give the author some privacy as he opened the envelope up. Ford wasn’t exactly sure what to expect, even as he initially glanced over the lengthy page Rose had written for him, but even so, it was as though he could hear her lovely voice saying every word to him as he read it silently to himself.
Dear Stanford,
If you’re reading this letter, then that means that you’ve finally made it home, back to Earth and back to Gravity Falls, where you truly belong. A part of me, a part that dismisses all of the danger this world would be put in if such a thing ever did happen, has spent the past 16 years hoping this day would come, and that I’d be there for it, to welcome you back with open arms. But… I know I’ll never get that chance… I’ve made a choice… I want to do something that no Gem has ever done before, to create something that this world has never seen before… But the only way I can do that is at the expense of myself… A sacrifice not too dissimilar to one you were willing to make the last time we met.
But even so, if this letter has found its way to you, then I’m no longer around, or at least I’m not around in the way you were used to. Because in a sense, I’ll forever be a part of the child I’m about to have, a child I hope you’ll hold nothing against, even despite everything that went wrong between us.
Speaking of which… I feel as though I owe you another apology for, well, everything really. Not a day goes by that I don’t regret how hard and fast our friendship fell apart… Even before you fell into that portal, there had been so many times when I wanted to go down the hill and pour my heart out to you, but I never ended up working up the nerve. Funny, isn’t it? How I had all the courage in the world to stand against my former home and fight for this planet until the bitter end, but I didn’t have enough to walk a few feet and simply tell you “I’m sorry”?
You need to know that if there had been another way to bring you back, even if it was just for a second, I would have taken it. But the portal was far too risky; I knew that. That’s why I did what you asked and kept the third journal hidden safe and sound, even from your brother (You never told me you had a brother, by the way). I tried everything I could to right our wrongs and fix our mistakes…
And in the process, I only ended up causing so many more.
Its much too… risky to divulge everything here, but… something happened several years ago. Something that none of us were prepared for, though I should have been prepared. It was a threat I knew, a threat we both knew… a threat swept through our lives and nearly took everything away in the process. And I wasn’t able to do anything to stop it.
I Can only myself to blame for what happEned that awful night. I should hAve told them. If I had just Let them know about the danger we were faCing from thE beginning, then maybe none of this would have haPpened… But I did what I had to… for them… for us… If you were still hEre, then I know you’d undeRstand… But you’re gone… and iTs all my fault… just like everything else… And I’m so, so Sorry… for everything I’ve done…
I need, need you to know that, Stanford. I need Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl to know that. I need my child to know that. I need everyone I’ve wronged because of this to know that. I never wanted to hurt any of you, I promise that. I just wanted to save you, my friends, this planet, everything I truly care about. But it seems I’ve only managed to hurt them all instead. Which means I suppose the key to healing them lies not with me, but with whoever comes next… And I have the upmost confidence that they’ll succeed where I have failed.
There are so many more things I want to say to you, Stanford, but I know there would never be enough time to write it all out. I had thought to offer you one final apology but that just didn’t seem right, as sorry as I truly am. So instead of lingering on the shadows permeating our past, I’ll leave you with a reminder of the light that once shined through it instead.
Do you remember the first time we met? Amethyst had pointed out your six fingers to the rest of us, and at the time, I had thought that was the most spectacular thing about you. Little did I know that I’d quickly find out that there was so much more to be amazed when it came to you, Stanford. Your intelligence, your determination, your passion, all these things and more made me realize that you were by far one of the most special humans I’ve ever had the privilege of getting to meet, and believe me, I’ve met plenty. There were times when I saw it: you underestimating your own brilliance and abilities, but those were things I never once doubted. Which is why, despite how impossible things might seem right now, I encourage you to hold onto the words you wrote at the start of the journal you entrusted to me years ago, words that I hope will inspire you and comfort you, even when I can’t:
“Ad astra per aspera”: To the stars through difficulties.
Yours truly,
Rose Quartz
Ford had never been one to get too emotional, but he was unable to stem the silent flow of tears as he finished reading Rose’s final words to him. Up until that point, the author hadn’t put too much thought into the pink Gem’s absence; of course, he knew that she wasn’t around anymore in place of Steven existing, but some small, irrational, yet persistent part of him still wanted to believe that it wasn’t true. That Rose would make her long-awaited appearance and that everything would go back to the way it was supposed to be. And yet, upon reading her last message intended for him himself, the truth of it all finally sunk in once and for all: Rose Quartz really was gone, most likely never to return. Even after 30 seemingly endless years of longing and remorse, he’d never get to speak to her, laugh with her, apologize to her, to simply see her ever again. It was a crushing reality, to the point that it was almost unbearable, to know that he’d be forever separated from one of his closest and most cherished friends, left with only a page of ultimately unfeeling letters to remember her by.
Yet at the same time, three of his other most invaluable friends were still there, still present and still alive and well. The only problem was they held no recollection of the bond they used to share, the camaraderie they used to uphold. A deep sense of loneliness filled Ford as this wave of realization washed over him yet again, a kind of loneliness that he hadn’t even ever felt traversing the empty voids of the multiverse. The author truly wanted to help restore the Gems’ memories to them, to the point of near desperation almost, but if he was perfectly honest with himself, even he didn’t know where to start with such an arduous task. By all accounts, the chances of things ever returning to even a shadow of how they used to be seemed incredibly slim, to the point that Ford was beginning to lose hope that such a thing was even a possibility at all.
Despite the still-ongoing argument between Stan and the Gems, Ford paid none of them any mind as he looked down to Rose’s letter again, its ending catching his attention in particular. “Which is why, despite how impossible things might seem right now, I encourage you to hold onto the words you wrote at the start of the journal you entrusted to me years ago, words that I hope will inspire you and comfort you, even when I can’t: “Ad astra per aspera”: To the stars through difficulties.”
“To the stars through difficulties…” Ford muttered to himself, taking in a steadying breath. It was a Latin phrase he had always been very fond of, one he had heard during his college years and kept close to his heart throughout his studies, both academically and in Gravity Falls. He had always seen it as a call to greatness, an affirmation of aspiration, no matter how daunting circumstances might seem. But now, the author began to realize that perhaps it held another meaning as well; perhaps it wasn’t just a message of upwards inspiration. Perhaps it was also just what Rose had said: a message of hope, of comfort, a promise that even though the road ahead seemed dark and uncertain, the stars of something better could still be reached regardless if one only worked hard and persevered enough to get to them. And while this was only a mere small spark of hope, it was one Ford decided to hold onto nonetheless, as the final piece of encouragement Rose had to offer for him. Encouragement that could perhaps at last lead them towards the answers they were all looking for.
Ford couldn’t profess to understanding everything concerning what Rose had spoken of in her letter, but several parts of it came across as somewhat bizarre to the author, to the point of being downright cryptic almost. Ford had never known Rose to be so indirect; the pink Gem, with her relative lack of understanding when it came to human subtlety, had always been very literal and forward in her conversations with him. Yet the vagueness in her letter threw the author off, especially when she sparsely described whatever apparently disastrous event had transpired quite some time ago. Certainly there must have been a reason that Rose hadn’t just written it all out if it was so significant and horrific; because instead of transcribing it all, the pink Gem had left only clues, breadcrumbs really to something that already seemed to lead to something so much more.
“I’ve only managed to hurt them all instead. Which means I suppose the key to healing them lies not with me, but with whoever comes next… And I have the upmost confidence that they’ll succeed where I have failed.”
“Whoever comes next…” Ford read once again, initially confused by what this meant until he happened to finally glance up from the letter and over to the still-brawling group just a few feet away. Or more specifically, towards Rose’s son, Steven.
The author was somewhat hesitant, knowing that he was really just working off mere conjecture alone as he approached the young Gem, Rose’s letter still in hand. In truth, Ford was still rather confused about exactly how the pink Gem had managed to reproduce at all, much less with a human, but his curiosity about Steven’s no-doubt bizarre hybrid biology would have to wait. After all, a far more pressing question needed answers now.
“Excuse me, um… Steven, was it?” Ford addressed the young Gem, placing a hand on his shoulder to pull his attention away from the ongoing fight between Stan and the Gems. Despite the tension behind them, Steven offered the author a friendly smile and a nod of patient confirmation, prompting him to go on, even as the other kids took notice of this almost random interaction. “Rose—I mean, your mother left this letter behind for me before she-” Ford cut himself off tightly; just because he had accepted the reality that Rose was gone didn’t make it any easier for him to admit it out loud. “A-anyway, the nature of this note implies something that I’m rather unclear of, something that she made it sound like only you can figure out.”
As Ford handed the letter off to Steven for him to see it, the quarrel between Stan and the Gems gradually fizzled out as they glanced over to the exchange between the author and the young Gem. An exchange that just about every single one of them disapproved of on some level, especially Stan. “Ford, what did I say about-” the conman’s sour callout was interupted by his brother, who put a silent hand up before patiently turning his attention back to Steven. The young Gem himself was focused on his mother’s letter, his eyes wide as he skimmed over it and tried to make sense of its more mysterious parts, though he did glance back up at Ford as he slowly knelt down to his level.
“Steven, this-” Ford stopped short, his brow furrowing, almost as if he wasn’t entirely sure how to put this, though he continued on a moment later anyway. “I should be honest… I have reason to believe that this letter might hold our first real, tangible clues about what’s happened to the Crystal Gems’ memories.”
Upon hearing this, Pearl was more than ready to speak up in heated protest against it, though Garnet quickly stopped her. “Wait,” she urged, keeping her sights trained on the conversation unfolding before them, one that could prove to be very helpful in their most pressing cause.
“Which is why I feel compelled to ask…” Ford continued, hesitantly but earnestly. “Would you be willing to help me decode the clues your mother left behind and uncover the truth behind this mystery once and for all?”
Steven didn’t answer this right away, instead taking a moment to glance back at his guardians somewhat apprehensively. Amethyst’s expression showed a general sense of apathy towards the situation at large, while Pearl intently shook her head in staunch disapproval over such an idea. Garnet, on the other hand, looked to the young Gem expectantly, with a air about her that told him that this was his choice to make alone. And as Steven turned to the author once more and took in his sincere, solemn, almost sad even, he found that it wasn’t that hard of a choice to really make.
“W-well, I’d love to help, Mr. Ford, I really would,” Steven said with a small but fretful smile. “But… I’ve never met my mom before. She stopped, uh… being around when I was born, so I didn’t get the chance to really know what she was like which means I might not be the best person to figure out what she tried to say here…”
“Oh…” Ford’s expression fell in slight disappointment as he rose to stand. “Well, I suppose that… does make things complicated, doesn’t it?”
“Well… even if I don’t know a lot about Mom myself, that still doesn’t mean we haven’t figured anything out about her,” Steven ventured, taking a glance over at Dipper, Mabel, and Connie. “In a way, we’ve… kinda been learning more about her all summer in some… pretty crazy ways.”
“Yeah, that’s right!” Mabel spoke up brightly. “Like the time we found her light canon out here near the shack and used it to blow that Red Eye to smithereens!”
“Wait, you… you kids found the light canon Rose asked me to hide away years ago?” Ford asked, aptly surprised.
“Yeah and we’ve been to hear healing fountain,” Dipper added intently.
“And her hidden armory,” Connie said with a nod.
“Heck, we even found her sword and its scabbard!” Steven’s smile widened with confidence. “And we’ve solved a bunch of other huge mysteries too!”
“And that’s why they call us the Mystery Kids!” Mabel chimed daringly.
“So I think that between the four of us,” Steven went on. “Maybe we can figure out what the deal with Mom’s letter is and if it has anything to do with the Gems’ memories!”
“Oh… well, are you sure you kids are really up for a task this… daunting?” Ford asked, not entirely convinced of their merit.
“Oh believe us, we’ve been up against plenty of daunting odds this summer,” Connie assured with a bit of an ironic laugh.
“Yeah, nothing stumps us as long as we’re working together!” Mabel boldly proclaimed. “Right, you guys?”
“Right,” Steven and Connie affirmed with clear resolve, though Dipper was noticeably silent as he glared away from the rest of the group. The young Gem in particular took notice of this, his heart sinking a bit as he realized that part of his impromptu plan still wasn’t working; the Mystery Kids were still fractured in some way, and as long as they were, then chances were, they wouldn’t be getting anywhere to any degree. Including fixing the past and moving forward into the future, things that all needed to be done sooner rather than later, as far as Steven was concerned.
“Uh, Dipper?” he began with a small, anxious smile. “You’re on bored with us in this too, aren’t you?”
Of course, Dipper didn’t respond to this right away, instead looking to the young Gem with a rather incredulous scowl, one that said everything that words didn’t really need to about how he was feeling about both him and Mabel at the moment. In truth, the pair was surprised that he was carrying this apparent grudge out for so long, neither of them really understanding why the decision they had made in the heat of the moment before that blinding portal still upset him so much. But at the same time, it was something of a small relief when Dipper let out a relenting sigh, even if his manner didn’t lighten up at all as he made it very clear on where he stood in all this. “Fine, whatever,” he complied sourly. “But only until we figure out what happened with the Gems’ memories.”
“Well… i-it’s a start…” Mabel said to Steven as Connie looked between her three friends in confusion, not knowing where this apparent tension between them all really came from.
“Uh… what’s going on with you guys today?” she asked with a concerned frown.
“It’s a… long story…” Steven whispered to her. “We’ll fill you in later.”
“Well,” Garnet spoke up, her hands on her hips and a hint of a coy smile on her face as she looked from her teammates to the kids. “I don’t know about you two, but for me, there’s no one I’d rather trust with a mystery like this than the Mystery Kids themselves.”
“Yes, well then,” Ford said, still somewhat uncertain about this plan of action. “Reasonably the best thing to do first would to be to carefully analyze Rose’s letter for any of its more subtle, possibly leading details. Then depending on whatever we uncover, we can work from there to-”
“I said,” Garnet interjected, crossing her arms. “We were going to trust the kids with this one.”
“Oh …r-right…” the author cleared his throat as he backed off, somewhat flustered as he let the kids investigate the matter on their own.
“Uh, well actually, Mr. Stanford’s plan seemed like it’s a pretty good one,” Connie shrugged, reading Rose’s letter from over Steven’s shoulder.
“Yeah, there does seem to be something off about this letter…” Dipper noted, putting his bitterness aside as he became invested in this mystery himself. “Like this paragraph right here. Some of the letters are just… randomly capitalized for some reason. Why would Rose do that?”
“Well, normally she wouldn’t,” Pearl cut in pointedly. “Rose’s handwriting was impeccable, just like everything else she did.”
“So… that probably means she had a good reason to do that,” Steven mused. “And in only this part of the letter too… weird…”
“Maybe she was just really tired when she wrote that part?” Mabel suggested, though even she didn’t really buy into such a theory too much.
“Or maybe…” Dipper trailed off as a newfound idea came to him, one that he was quick to act on. “Quick, someone write this down!”
Connie was quick to do so, pulling out a piece of paper and a pen as she recorded all of the letters that Dipper read out, each one of them bizarrely and improperly capitalized within Rose’s letter. Everyone else watched this work with baited breath, hoping that perhaps it would lead them to some kind of answer, though by the time they were done, the results they had gotten were… less than conclusive.
“Ok, so it all adds up to… CEALCEPERTS…?” Connie read, raising a baffled eyebrow as she did.
“Uh… I’m pretty sure that’s not a word…” Mabel frowned before quickly perking up. “Though it does kinda sound like seal-experts! Oh! What if Rose wanted to tell everyone that she was secretly a seal expert!?”
A beat of doubtful silence passed at this bizarre limb before Steven went off on another one. “CEALCEPERTS…” he repeated, looking to the letter once more. “Does that mean anything to any of you guys?” he asked both Ford and the Gems collectively.
“No,” Ford said, equally confused by this odd clue.
“Not at all,” Garnet remarked as the other two Gems shook their heads.
“Dad?” Steven ventured, hoping that perhaps the former rock star might have some kind of idea.
“Sorry, kiddo, I got nothing,” Greg shrugged. “What about you, Mr. Pines?”
“Ugh, heck if I know,” Stan rolled his eyes impetuously. “I think I’ve had enough of dealing with Rose and her little ‘mysteries’ for one day. I’m takin’ off. I have a feeling you nerds will be just fine without my ‘help’.”
And with that, the conman turned on his heel and headed for the shack, not bothering to spare another glance back at either the Gems or at Ford as aggravated as he was with them both. “Just as well,” Ford scoffed, rolling his eyes at his brother’s attitude. “Stanley wouldn’t have been much help in this anyway. Or much help in anything else, really.”
“I heard that!” Stan shot back crossly, though he didn’t bother to stick around and protest it any further.
“Hm… what if this CEALCEPERTS thing isn’t really a word…?” Connie theorized, tapping her pen against the page thoughtfully. “What if it’s… something else?”
“Oh yeah!” Dipper exclaimed in realization. “For all we know, it could be a message written in code, or an acronym, or heck, even an anagram!”
“What’s an anagram?” Steven asked curiously.
“It’s when the letters of a word are all mixed up and out of order,” Connie explained, sitting on the ground so she could work properly. “Like, for instance if we took CEALCEPERTS here and tried to turn it into something else using just the letters it has in it.”
“Oh I think I got one!” Mabel said, looking over the bizarre word once more. “Maybe this is supposed to be two words? Like… CASTLE CREEP?”
“Or… LACE SCEPTER?” Dipper tried, though he was quick to denounce the result. “No, that can’t be it…”
“Um… what about CREPE SELECT?” Steven guessed with a shrug.
“Or it could be ELECT RECAP…” Connie mused. “But none of these make any sense… There’s got to be one that-”
“Wait,” Dipper interupted, his eyes wide with realization as he worked through this in a different way. “PACER… PLACER… PLACE… It’s some kind of place… And then what’s left makes… ERECTS or…” he trailed off with a stunned gasp before revealing what he had uncovered. “SECRET… SECRET PLACE! That must be what its supposed to say! Secret place!”
“Secret place?” Amethyst asked dubiously. “Uh… like what?”
“Maybe its talking about some place that was a secret to Mom?” Steven purposed thoughtfully. “Like… oh! I know! Mom’s secret armory!”
“Steven!” Pearl quickly chastised upon mention of the pink Gem’s hidden sanctum. A sanctum that she would much prefer to keep the relative secret that it was.
“Oops… sorry, Pearl…” the young Gem rubbed the back of his neck. “I kinda forgot about the whole secret part of it…”
“Wait… Rose’s armory…?” Ford asked knowingly. “The one buried under the town cemetery? I’ve been there before. Rose took me to see it years ago after I asked her about advanced Gem weaponry. It’s really quite impressive!”
“What?! She took you to—oh… that’s right…” Pearl grumbled, crossing her arms with a scowl as she recalled the journals’ mention of the armory.
“Armory?” Amethyst asked, confused. Confusion that Garnet mirror as well. “What the heck are you guys talking about?”
“Well… why don’t we all just go there together?” Mabel suggested. “After all, it does sorta seem like it’s the place that anagram thingy in Rose’s letter is talking about, so its probably worth checking out, right?”
“Wha—no!” Pearl protested adamantly. “We can’t all just go to Rose’s private sanctum like its some kind of… field trip! It’s already been defiled by far too many intruders already! We should just leave it well enough al-”
“Pearl,” Garnet interjected calmly, placing a hand on her frustrated teammate’s shoulder. “We know this place, whatever it is, was special for both you and Rose. But if there’s anything there that could possibly lead us towards the whereabouts of our memories, then we have to go investigate it.”
“B-but…” the white Gem’s argument weakly fizzled out as she realized Garnet was right. If Rose’s letter indeed pointed towards any leads in particular, then the armory was most likely the exactly that. And as much as she wanted to preserve that special place’s sanctity, she wanted to reclaim her and her teammates’ lost memories even more. “A-alright…” she sighed reluctantly as she began to lead the way towards the cemetery, feeling as though she was breaking something important and cherished between herself and her former liege as she did. “Then… let’s go…”
Since there was no warp pad leading to Rose’s armory, the collective group of the kids, the Gems, and Ford had to walk across town to get there, in a trek that was spent mostly in stiff, awkward silence. Along the way, however, Steven, Mabel, and Dipper all managed to fill Connie in on more of the details of what had happened over the past two days, each of them telling her disconnected accounts that both confused her and allowed her to understand the newfound division among them at the same time. A division that, for all intents and purposes, she found wise not to take a clear stance on, lest that create even more of a rift between them all than there already was.
Things were still in a relative state of silence even as the group ventured into Rose’s armory, the vast, cavernous hold still just as pristine and stately as ever. And while the kids, Pearl, and Ford were largely unphased by its familiar, sparkling interior, Garnet and Amethyst were quite amazed by it, seeing as how they had never once step foot into this secret sanctum that belong to their longtime leader.
“Well, uh… here we are,” Steven announced as he stepped up onto the central platform. “Mom’s armory.”
“Incredible…” Garnet murmured, adjusting her shades amidst looking around the cave.
“Seriously…” Amethyst agreed, her eyes wide and her jaw dropped. “Why didn’t Rose ever tell us about this place? Its not like we would have went and blabbed about it to anyone.”
“M-maybe because it was just… really special to her,” Steven ventured with a bit of a reassuring smile.
“Then why’d she show it to these two?” Amethyst nodded over to Pearl and Ford.
“Well she showed it to me because I was her most trusted confidant!” the white Gem proclaimed with a proud smile that quickly disappeared as she glanced over at the author. “Or at least… I thought I was…”
“Rose brought me here purely for the sake of historical research, I can assure you,” Ford clarified conclusively.
“Oh, right, research…” Pearl scoffed coldly. “Research about her private sanctum that you went and liberally recorded in those infernal journals of yours for the entire world to see, right?!”
“T-that was never my intention!” Ford protested earnestly. “I only wanted to-”
“That’s enough,” Garnet interupted staunchly as she wisely stepped between the pair. “We are not getting into another argument today. We need to focus on finding answers, no matter where and what they might be.”
“Well then, this is as good a place as any to start looking,” Steven said as he tapped his hand down onto the central switch, which instantly lit up the moment he made contact with it. Ford and the Gems all watched in apt amazement as the young Gem cycled through each of the weapon collections the armory had to offer, with Mabel and Connie both helping him out by poking him in the right places to get them to appear. However, none of the armory’s contents seemed to point towards any further clues, from the Armor of the Fallen, to the Axes of Ages, to the Heretic’s Anguish, to even the Quatizine Trio. Even some of the collections the kids themselves had never seen before were ultimately fruitless in anything that told of missing memories or untold secrets, aside from the existence of the armory itself. And by the time they had been through everything, the majority of the group was starting to get quite frustrated by the lack of any real, tangible hints they were still facing.
“Ugh, this is stupid,” Amethyst groaned impatiently as Steven began going through the weapons once more, just to make sure there wasn’t anything they had missed. “Wherever our memories are, its pretty obvious they’re not here, so why are we still wasting our time doing this?”
“Because Rose’s letter pointed towards a secret place,” Garnet reiterated. “And, given the fact that so few actually knew about this armory, I’d say it was exactly that.”
“W-well even if this place was a secret, I don’t see any reason why our memories would have been stored here anyway,” Pearl said pointedly. “Especially since, as we’ve said multiple times, Rose had nothing to do with their erasure!”
“No, of course she wouldn’t have,” Ford agreed with complete sincerity as he looked over the pink Gem’s letter to him again. “However, she did imply that she might have known what happened to them after they were taken. Which means that the leads she’s offered for us are the best we have to go off of for right now.”
“If those leads are even pointing towards our memories,” Pearl countered. “Which, for all we know, they not be at all.”
Based on this bout of speculation, a round of heated debating broke out between Ford and the Gems, one that wasn’t quite an argument, though given how on edge they all were, it could have very well been mistaken for one. The kids watched in unanimous dismay as the adults bickered, knowing that such contention seemed to be a running theme today, one that didn’t show any signs of breaking any time soon.
“Ugh, more fighting…” Mabel sighed with an exasperated frown. “How are we ever gonna figure any of this stuff out if everyone just keeps getting mad and yelling at each other?”
“I guess its because everyone’s just a little tense…” Steven noted sympathetically. “Especially the Gems; they won’t really tell me a lot about it but… its sorta like everything’s just been turned upside down for them and they don’t understand why or how. It can’t be easy for them.”
“Well… do you think finding their memories will really fix that?” Connie asked worriedly.
“I…. don’t know… Maybe?” Steven replied, honestly. “I think what’s bothering them the most right now is the chance that Mom might have actually known about what happened to them, but… that doesn’t make any sense… Why would she keep a secret like that from them for all those years?”
“Well, she did keep this whole armory thing a secret from Amethyst and Garnet for a whole bunch of years, it sounds like,” Mabel pointed out.
“Yeah, but… this is different,” Steven frowned fretfully. “This armory was hers’. But the Gems’ memories belonged to them. If she knew all this time, then why would she keep something that’s theirs hidden from them, especially something this important? Garnet, Amethyst, and Pearl were her best friends, so why wouldn’t she trust them with their own memories?”
“Oh gee, I don’t know, Steven,” Dipper spoke up, his tone quite cross and sardonic as he glared at his sister and the young Gem. “Why wouldn’t Rose trust her friends on something really important? Then again, its not like you and Mabel really know anything about putting your trust in the right people, now would you?”
“Uh… what are you talking about, bro-bro?” Mabel asked, exchanging a confused, but still concerned glance with Steven upon hearing this.
“Are you serious?” Dipper asked in harsh disbelief. “You guys still don’t get what the problem is here?”
“W-with the Gems?” Steven guessed, though even as he said it, he knew that wasn’t the focus of this conversation anymore.
“No, with us!” Dipper exclaimed in unbridled frustration. “With what you guys did yesterday! You two saw what the journals said; that portal could have torn the universe apart and killed us all! And you both were in the perfect places to put a stop to it and save us all but you just… didn’t!”
“B-but everything turned out fine!” Mabel protested, not understanding her brother’s perspective on this. “We’re all still ok and now we even have Grunkle Ford around! Aren’t you happy about getting the chance to meet him seeing as how he’s the author you’ve been just about dying to find all summer?!”
“Well, of course I am!” Dipper snapped, his hands in tight fists at his sides. “But that’s not the point! The point is that you guys knew something really bad could have happened, and who did you decide to trust about it in the end? Not me, you know, your twin brother, one of your best friends? No, you decided to trust Stan, a literal conman who we just found out had been lying to us about basically everything all summer!”
“Dipper, we didn’t decide to trust Mr. Pines over you,” Steven clarified gently. “It was just a really intense, heat of the moment sort of thing and we were being pressured on both sides and things just sort of… happened.”
“Things just ‘sort of’ happened?” Dipper repeated with a cold scoff. “Oh what you mean like how you guys ‘sort of happened’ to go have a little ‘chat’ with Peridot even after the Gems and I told you not to? Or, Steven, like how you ‘sort of happened’ to keep me trapped in a fusion with you just so you could feel good!? Or, Mabel, how you ‘sort of happened’ to not help me with the laptop which left me with only a psychotic, sadistic demon to turn to for help!? Or how you guys just ‘sort of happen’ to always do stuff like this! You always have to do what works for you guys, what you guys think is right. Well maybe what’s right for you two isn’t always right for everyone else, did you ever think about that?! Oh, well, of course you didn’t because you two just hate thinking about anything even remotely unpleasant, don’t you!?”
“Whoa, hold on-” Connie attempted to intervene upon seeing how heated things were getting, though Mabel quickly, angrily interupted her.
“Dipper, none of that is fair and you know it!” she exclaimed sharply. “I thought we already settled all this! What happened with the invasion or with Bill is none of our faults and neither is what happened yesterday! Don’t you get it?! If we had shut down that portal yesterday, then Grunkle Stan would have never gotten to see his brother again! He wasn’t trying to destroy the world; he was trying to save his family! I totally would have done the same thing if you were the one trapped in some nightmare dimension like Grunkle Ford was!”
“Would you have, Mabel?” Dipper asked dubiously. “Because if we’re being perfectly honest here, I don’t think you would. After all, I’m always the one who has to end up sacrificing the things I want and need for you, not the other way around! If Bill was right about one thing, it was that. And you pretty much just proved that completely yesterday by not hearing me out about hitting that shutdown switch! The one time I ask you to do something that could have potentially saved the entire world and you don’t even listen to me!”
“Dipper, I—we wanted to listen to you!” Mabel argued back intensely, and by now, Ford and the Gems had start to take notice of the effective shouting matching that was unfolding pretty much between just the twins at this point. “But your problem is that you think way too much with your head and never with your heart! Because me and Steven went with our hearts yesterday and they turned out to be right! Why can’t you just accept that!?”
“Because you didn’t trust me!” Dipper reiterated fiercely, clearly upset enough that he was almost to the point of tears, though he held them back nonetheless. “How many times do I have to say it?! A few weeks ago you guys made such a big deal about how important it was that we stand together and listen to each other, but then you two turned around and did the exact opposite of that! Do you guys even know what that felt like to me? It was like you guys just… shut me out, like you-”
Steven suddenly interupted with a sharp gasp of realization upon hearing this, his eyes growing wide as he finally hit what very well could be a breakthrough in everything. “L-like what Mom did to the Gems…” he muttered, his eyes wide as he stared up to the nearby pink platform.
“Steven?” Connie frowned in confusion, the twins doing the same as they wondered how any of this related back to the argument at hand.
“Pearl,” Steven began, looking to the white Gem as he started to work of this realization. “You said that Mom used to keep a lot of secrets because she wanted to protect everyone?”
“W-well… yes…” Pearl nodded, unsure of where her young ward was going with this. “But what does that have to do with anything?”
“Well, if that’s true, then that means Mom didn’t keep secrets from you guys because she didn’t trust you…” Steven continued, pacing around in the shallow water of the cave as he continued thinking thins out. “She did it to keep you guys safe from… something…”
“Something…” Amethyst repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Like… what?”
“I… don’t know…” Steven shook his head. “But I don’t think that’s the important thing here anyway. What’s important is that she did trust you guys, and she trusted you too, Mr. Ford, didn’t she?”
“W-well, I’d like to think that she did,” Ford remarked, glancing down in slight shame. “For a time anyway…”
“Well, she trusted you enough to show you armory, and a bunch of other things too!” Steven assured thoughtfully. “But… what if there were things that she still kept secret from everyone, things that she didn’t ever tell anyone about ever, because she wanted to keep her friends safe from something really bad.”
“Well what kinda secret would that be?” Amethyst asked, hands on her hips.
“It would be something like… hm…” the young Gem had to take pause from his ongoing line of reasoning here, knowing that he was still missing one essential piece out of this growing puzzle. A piece that had to be something that neither the Gems nor Ford had any prior knowledge of. A piece that could very well lead to the answers they were all still so desperate to find. A piece that, as it finally dawned upon Steven in another burst of sudden realization, was much more pinker and fluffier than he thought it would be. “Lion!”
“Lion?” everyone save for Ford asked rather incredulously, all of them now completely lost by the young Gem’s newfound, bizarre conclusion.
“We gotta get back to the temple, right now!” Steven implored, splashing loudly through the cave as he ran towards its exit, the others all curiously following after him. “Come on!”
No one really understood what Steven had in mind for his impromptu plan as they arrived back at the temple, save for the fact that it apparently involved Lion. Almost as soon as they all stepped inside, however, the young Gem wasted no time in frantically rushing forward and urgently calling for his pink pet, knowing that time was of the essence in solving this longstanding mystery now.
“Lion!” he shouted, glancing around for the pink beast as the others filed in behind him. “Lion! Come on out! We need you to-”
The young Gem was interupted as the pink beast suddenly leapt down from the loft above, nearly knocking him down in the process. As Steven re-steadied himself, he let something of an exasperated huff out upon seeing his comforter draped over his pet’s head. “Ugh, Lion!” he groaned, pulling the blanket off of him. “How many times do I have to tell you!? My bed is for me to sleep on, not for you, even when I’m not here!”
“By Tesla’s coil…” Ford muttered in amazement as he stepped forward to take a better look at the pink beast. “T-that lion is pink!”
“Uh, yeah, tell us something we don’t know,” Amethyst rolled her eyes.
“What a scientific marvel!” the author continued with an impressed smile. Lion sent him an unenthused glare but surprisingly didn’t growl at him as he curiously approached him. “And he’s so tame too! Certainly, he has to have some sort of magical or supernatural origins! Where on earth did you find him?”
“In the desert, a few months before this summer started,” Steven replied, stroking his pink pet’s fur. “But… he has this huge tree inside his mane, i-it’s a little hard to explain, but there are a whole bunch of stuff in there. Stuff that I think used to belong to my mom… Its where we found her sword and this tape she left for me, and there’s a lot of other things in there too. A-and…” he turned to the Gems as he briefly paused, clearly nervous as he purposed his latest idea to them. “Maybe it’s the ‘secret place’ Mom’s letter talked about. Maybe… its where your memories are.”
“Oh, Steven, don’t be ridiculous,” Pearl scoffed. “The chances of our memories being hidden inside Lion’s mane are even lower than them being at the armory.”
“It’s a good guess,” Garnet assured, placing a hand on her young ward’s shoulder. “But it just doesn’t seem very likely.”
“No!” Steven protested, pulling his shoulder away. “Garnet, you said that we have to investigate anything that could lead us to where your memories are. Well I really do think that whatever’s inside Lion’s mane could at least help us get closer to finding them! Please, just… trust me on this, ok? It’s worth a look, isn’t it?”
The Gems said nothing to this, instead exchanging an uncertain glance before they all backed off to allow Steven the room to do what he needed to. The young Gem himself took in a deep, steady breath as he nodded to Lion, who simply tilted his chin up, granting his master access to the pocket dimension tucked away inside his pastel mane. And, taking in a deep breath and letting go of any reservations about what he might find, Steven jumped right in.
The grassy fields of Lion’s mane were just as calm and peacefully silent as Steven always knew them to be, though unlike the countless times he had visited them before, this time, something felt… different. It was as though the very atmosphere, or lack there of rather, that covered the seemingly boundless space was filled with something ominous and unsettling, almost as if it knew what he was there looking for.
And it wasn’t happy about it.
Even so, Steven forced himself to ignore the growing dread in his own heart as he pressed forward through the tall grass, the large, pink tree still afar off in the distance, though it loomed closer with each step he inched towards it. As he ventured closer, his breath dutifully held and his eyes focused on his destination, the young Gem couldn’t help but think about his mother. Rose Quartz, the leader of the Crystal Gems, who saved so many and gave so much. Who harbored so many secrets, both big and small. Who had left so much confusion and uncertainty behind. Who, the more he learned about, the more he seemed to know nothing about at all.
“She was more than just nice,” his father had told him with a warm, earnest smile of deepest affection and love. “She was sweet, and selfless, and funny, and brave, and beautiful, and amazing…”
“Your mother always believed that trust was something that shouldn’t be given away so easily,” Garnet had said, but Steven couldn’t help but question that supposed belief now, in spite of it all. “She believed it was something that should be earned, and that everyone should be given the chance to earn it.”
“I don’t know what kind of sweet, little fluffy lies the Gems have been feeding you, kid, but your mom was far from the amazing, perfect, flawless goddess those three thought she was!” Stan had harshly criticized, with a kind of disdain that the young Gem now understood the reasoning behind. Disdain that, in a way, he even saw as somewhat reasonable, at least from the conman’s perspective.
“She was always, always thinking of humanity, of the earth, of her fellow Crystal Gems over herself,” Pearl had said with a loving sigh of adoration, one that perhaps, Steven started to realize, carried some biases to it all their own.
“I was always able to bear my secrets to her, just as she often entrusted her own secrets to me,” the journal had read and Ford still echoed his sentiments of deepest respect for the pink Gem even now. Sentiments that, much like the Gems’ refused to be shaken. “I can only hope she’ll understand. She has to understand. She’s the only one I still completely trust…”
“Then again, I’m hardly surprised,” Bill had said during a moment of such high intensity that it had barely even registered again in Steven’s mind until now. “After all, your mom did the exact same thing way back when before just making everybody forget about it later on!”
Steven had to take in a sharp gasp of realization upon recalling this callous remark, to the point that he was forced to stick his head outside of Lion’s mane ever so briefly to catch it. He didn’t even bother sticking around to answer anyone’s pressing questions as he quickly shoved himself back inside, his mind absolutely reeling by what the dream demon had said several weeks ago no. There was no way, no way Bill could have been right about that; certainly it had to have been just another one of his infamous lies and deceitful ploys. The idea that Rose had known where the Gems’ memories had been all this time was bad enough; but the implication that she had been the very one to take them in the first place was something else altogether. Certainly, it wasn’t true. It couldn’t be. Because…
“Take care of them, Steven…” Rose had said herself to him in a tape made years ago. A tape filled with so much warmth and love and sincerity that it usually pushed all thoughts of his mother’s shadowed secrets away. But not this time. Because as Steven scaled the hill leading to the tree, the only thing left in place of that warmth was a bitter chill, in place of that love was fear, in place of that sincerity was doubt, more doubt that he had ever really felt before. She had entrusted him with the Crystal Gems, with the protection of the earth and everything upon it. Those were burdens he could handle, burdens that were heavy yes, but manageable. But she had also left him with her secrets, with the ghosts of her past still unreckoned in the present, with all the horrible mistakes she might have made. With all the things that he knew he wasn’t strong enough to carry, even if he wanted to.
And as he finally reached the tree and happened to peer just beyond the chest resting near its base, he found just about the heaviest burden she could have left him with.
His heart sank with a feeling of absolute woe as he caught sight of it: an unassuming glass tube, the very same kind the Society of the Blind Eye had once horded en masse. It lay gently in the low grass, a label pressed to its side that bore a very simple designation written in a deceptively beautiful script:
“Crystal Gems’ Memories”
Steven’s hands were shaking as he reached down to pick the tube up, grasping it ever so gently as he pulled it into his grasp. Tears had started to well up in the young Gem’s eyes as the realization crashed down upon him all at once that it was all true. That Rose really had been keeping this momentous secret from her teammates, from her friends all this time. That she had barred them from the truth, truth that they had agonized over missing for so very long now, truth that she could have very well stolen away from them herself. Truth that he had finally, finally found, and truth that he had every intention of returning to who it rightfully belonged to.
Something that his mother had apparently never bothered to od.
Since he was starting to run out of air, Steven quickly bounded down the hill, practically leaping out of Lion’s mane and back into the house as he landed on the floor clumsily. As tense as everyone was, no one really bothered to give him too much of a chance to catch his breath as they all crowded around him, eager to hear his findings.
“Steven, are you ok?” Mabel asked with concern upon noticing the tears streaming down the young Gem’s face.
“Did you find anything in there?” Connie asked, equally worried as Steven slowly pushed himself up to sit.
“Uh… y-yeah…” he muttered morosely, looking down to the memory tube held tightly in his arms. “I… I think I did…”
Steven let out a sad sigh as he held the tube up for the Gems to see, a unified gasp of shock escaping them as they realized what it was. The young Gem had always imagined this to be a moment of immense relief and joy for his guardians; the long awaited reunion with their lost memories should have been exciting and liberating. But instead, it only felt like a betrayal of the absolute worst kind.
“T-those are… they can’t be…” Pearl whispered, wrapping her hands around Garnet’s arm tightly.
“T-they are…” the Gem leader said weakly, not even hiding the dismay in her tone.
“B-but… but why were they… in there all this time?” Amethyst asked, shaking her head in disbelief.
Garnet took in a deep breath, steadying herself for her teammates as resolve filled her expression. “There’s only one way to find out,” she said, looking to the memory tube first, and then to her teammates. “Gems?” she offered, though neither Amethyst nor Pearl seemed very keen on taking the initiative. “Alright then, I’ll go first.”
The others all watched in tentative silence as Garnet took the tube, placing her palms against both of its end tips. However, the moment she did so, a spark of energy rushed from the tube to the two gemstones making contact with it, eliciting a gasp of surprise from the Gem leader as she went rigid and still. For a moment, her expression only conveyed shock; her jaw dropped and her eyes unreadable underneath her shades. No one else had any idea what she could have been seeing, what memories she was recalling, what secrets she was learning, but in the end, it all proved to be too much for her as she let out a sharp, distraught cry, her hands flying away from the tube as she stumbled backwards. The tube itself nearly shattered on the ground, but fortunately, Pearl managed to catch it just in time as the others all looked to the compromised Gem leader in concerned alarm.
Garnet said nothing as she backed against the far wall, her shades disappearing to reveal her trio of eyes, all huge with terror and oncoming tears in an expression of unabridged fear that none of them had ever seen on her before. Her breathing was shallow and uneven, a hand pressed tightly against the side of her head as she shook it repeatedly, as sign of how unable she was to comprehend what she had just seen.
“G-Garnet…” Steven asked, taking a small, hesitant step towards her. “A-are you… ok?”
The Gem leader didn’t respond, her eyes darting downward as she remained in her state of silent, frantic panic, completely unresponsive to everyone else around her. Pearl and Amethyst in particular were quite stunned to see their usually steadfast leader so shaken, and as they looked to the memory tube again, they were both left wondering if reclaiming what she just had was even worth it at all. “W-what did she see just now?” Amethyst asked quite apprehensively.
“I-I don’t know…” Pearl said, warily eyeing the tube once more. “Whatever it was, it couldn’t have been that bad, right?”
Amethyst simply shrugged in response to this, something that Pearl took with a readying sigh as she began to lift the tube up to the gem on her forehead, knowing that was how Garnet had absorbed the memories contained therein. And much like Garnet, Pearl’s expression went completely blank as she touched it to her gemstone, though it only took a moment or two for the same kind of horror to fill her eyes as she let out nothing short of a scream of anguished fear. The white Gem practically threw the memory tube away from her, though Amethyst managed to nab it with a well timed stretch of her arm before it could hit the wall. All the same, Pearl let out another heartbroken cry as she quickly collapsed to her knees, choking on several sobs all the while as she wrapped her arms tightly around herself.
“H-how could we… w-we were tricked, we didn’t… what have we done?!” she cried miserably, her voice rising in yet another agonized shriek before she broke down into the same, tearful, inconsolable state Garnet was still in. The kids, Ford, and Amethyst could all only watch their absolute breakdowns with apt alarm, none of them having the faintest idea about what apparent horrors their previously lost memories could hold. The purple Gem in particular looked down at the tube anxiously, knowing that if she were to gain those memories herself, then she’d likely fall apart just as her teammates had. And yet…
“Amethyst, wait,” Steven stopped her as she began to pull the tube towards the gem on her chest. “Y-you don’t have to…”
The purple Gem’s expression turned grave as she heard this, shaking her head solemnly as she spared another pitied glance towards Garnet and Pearl. “Yeah… I do…” she muttered despondently, taking in a deep breath before she placed the tube against her gem. Just like her teammates, it took a moment for Amethyst to really respond to whatever secrets the tube held inside it, but when she did, her reaction wasn’t one of shock or grief. It was anger. The purple Gem let out an appalled gasp, her eyes igniting with furious fire as she ripped the memory tube away from her, letting out a fierce shout as she slammed it hard into the ground, shattering it into hundreds of irreparable pieces.
“She lied to us!” Amethyst practically screamed with fury, her fingers tightly knitted into her messy hair. “All this time! All these years and she couldn’t even bother to tell us anything just so she could hide her own mistakes!? How could she do this to us?!”
“Do what?” Ford asked, both immensely concerned and immensely curious as he addressed all three of the Gems. “What happened? What did you see?”
As soon as the author asked this, the Gems all snapped their gazes over to him, each of them wearing some variation of a hostile scowl, something that Ford was genuinely caught off guard by. “W-what did we see?” Pearl began coldly, wiping her tears away and replacing them with anger as she stood. “I’ll tell you what we saw! We saw-”
“Pearl,” Garnet quickly cut in, still against the wall, though her expression had hardened somewhat. Her shades were still gone as she sent an intentful glance towards the kids, silently telling her teammate that what they had witnessed was something that didn’t need to be discussed in front of them.
The white Gem heeded her leader, though all the same, she turned to Ford briefly, whispering only two words that none of the kids were able to hear, though they left the author completely in shock. “W-what?” he stammered, hoping he had heard Pearl wrong, though she didn’t bother to repeat herself as she abruptly turned on her heel and marched towards the temple, letting out another remorseful, bitter sob as she did. Amethyst followed soon after, grumbling hotly to herself as she stormed into her room, not even sending another glance back at the stunned group behind her. Garnet lingered just a moment longer, her three-eyed sights fixated on the broken remains of the memory tube on the ground before her, as if it held any of the answers she was failing to find.
“G-Garnet?” Steven spoke up apprehensively, taking a step towards the shaken Gem leader. Garnet briefly glanced up at him, her eyes filled with pain, regret, fear, and a million other things at once as she prepared to speak to him, only to end up saying nothing at all. Instead, she simply summoned her shades once again, standing upright as she too retreated inside the temple, unable to even begin describing the horrors her and her teammates had just seen.
“W-wait!” Ford called after her, rushing up to the temple gate just as it closed. “Please, just tell me what happened! W-what did he—what did Rose do to…” The author trailed off, stilling his knocking on the door as he let out a defeated sigh and hung his head in shame, knowing that, based on the incredibly small amount of information he had so far, he couldn’t help but blame himself for it all.
“G-Grunkle Ford?” Mabel spoke up anxiously. “Are the Gems… ok?”
Ford hesitated in turning back to face the kids, but when he did it was with a small, largely fake smile of reassurance. “Ah… um… t-they will be. There’s no doubt that whatever memories they just recalled were… somewhat intense. It’s understandable that they’d need a little time to… adjust, so to speak…”
“It was Mom, wasn’t it?” Steven asked, his back turned to everyone else as he instead stared at the portrait of his mother rather coldly. “She was the one who erased their memories. That’s why they were hidden in Lion’s mane; she put them there. Like Amethyst said, s-she lied to them…”
“I-I… I’m not sure if she… M-maybe she just… She…” Ford stammered, clearly unsure of what to say as he looked to the serene portrait of the pink Gem himself. The author knew there was much that he could have said, not just to the kids, but to the Gems, to himself really, in a moment like this. Unspoken regrets, unkept promises, unabashed guilt; but in the end, he said none of it, opting to take the same route of silence as the Gems had by making a swift retreat of his own. “I… don’t know…” he mumbled to the kids as he passed by them, his tone and his manner both low and remorseful. Yet all the same, he did stop briefly as he began to step outside, offering the kids something of a bittersweet smile as he left them with a few genuine words of affirmation. “You know, despite how everything turned out, you kids really did come through and figure this conundrum out, and that’s something to be proud of. The four of you really make quite an impressive team.” Ford let out a small, somewhat sad laugh as he finally left, though not before muttering one final, wistful statement to himself. “Just like myself and the Gems did back in the day, I suppose…”
And with that, the author departed, leaving the kids alone in a state of heavy silence as they all tried to wrap their heads around everything that had just happened. There was no doubt that something significant had changed with the restoration of the Gems’ memories, but exactly what that something was was largely unclear. However, Steven hardly even thought of this apparent change as he instead continued staring at the picture of his mother, his hands slowly clenching into tight fists at his side as his despair started to grow into frustration. Which in turn, quickly grew into a rare kind of anger he was powerless to control.
“I can’t believe it…” he began, quietly at first, though his volume quickly rose as the others all looked to him in confusion. “All this time, all this time we’ve been trying to figure out what happened to the Gems’ memories, and the answer was always right here! Mom took their memories! They were her friends and she stole from them without even thinking about how much it might hurt them!”
“Oh, Steven…” Connie frowned, wanting to comfort the young Gem amidst his upset anger. “M-maybe she had to erase their memories. Whatever the Gems saw… it looked like it really scared them. Maybe that was her way of helping them deal with that.”
“But why couldn’t she think of another way?!” Steven exclaimed, distraught as he began to intensely pace back and forth. “Why did she have to go and take something that was so important to them and just… just hide them for so long without telling anyone?! She didn’t give them a choice or anything, she just did it to try and fix whatever happened, but it didn’t fix anything at all! It wasn’t fair! It wasn’t right! It’s just like-!” The young Gem cut himself off with a sharp gasp, his eyes widening as he realized he had no right to be upset with his mother for such a momentous mistake. After all, he had nearly done the exact same thing to one of his own friends just a few mere days ago.
Steven’s eyes welled up with tears, a guilty sob escaping him as he looked to Dipper, who, up until that point, had only been watching the young Gem’s outburst in concerned alarm. However, his surprise only grew as Steven suddenly rushed towards him, pulling him into a tight, sorrowful hug that admittedly caught Dipper completely off guard.
“S-Steven, what-”
“Dipper, I-I’m so sorry!” the young Gem cried morosely. “I finally understand why you were so upset with me and Mabel about what happened yesterday! Its because we didn’t trust you! B-because I didn’t trust you, a-and that’s why I almost erased your memories back when we were dealing with the society! I thought you couldn’t handle it all but I was wrong! I was only thinking about how bad I felt then, about how scared I was yesterday that I didn’t even t-think about how… about… about anything else! You’re right… I-I… I’m selfish… Just like my mom was…”
Dipper had to take pause upon hearing all this, still lost in surprise as he felt the young Gem sob miserably while still maintaining their embrace. For the first time, he couldn’t help but feel guilty himself for the grudge he had been holding onto so tightly ever since that portal blew open. A grudge that, in light of everything they had uncovered and everything that they had been through together, seemed far too petty and unimportant to really hold a place in his heart any longer.
And yet, before he could let it go, Mabel spoke up, her tone shaken yet sincere as she managed to join in on the hug between the boys herself. “Dipper, I… I’m sorry too…” she said, much softer than Steven had, though tears were starting to fill her eyes as well. “You were right… we really did shut you out. We broke our promise to stick by each other and be a team, and then we—I guess I just thought that things would get better on their own, so I didn’t even try to make it right… J-just like I always do, right?”
“Mabel, no…” Dipper protested softly, gently pulling himself out of Steven and Mabel’s shared embrace. “Y-you guys didn’t… I was just…” He trailed off, trying to focus everything he wanted to say to them both down to something concise, meaningful. And once he did, he couldn’t help but do so with a remorseful sigh. “I… I was wrong. About Stan, about the portal, about… well, just about everything. In fact, when it comes to the big things this summer, there’s probably about only a handful of times when I’ve actually been right. And I guess I was just so tired of being wrong about everything all the time that I wanted to blame it on someone other than myself so… maybe I sort of just… pinned it all on you two. Which is something else that’s wrong, when you think about it, because you guys totally don’t deserve that. You did what you thought was right. And… in the end, it turned out for the best. I mean, it brought Great Uncle Ford back to where he belongs, it led to us finding the Gems’ memories—for better or worse—it gave us the answers to so many of the questions we had this summer. So… I’m sorry for holding it all against you guys. What happened yesterday… it changed pretty much everything. But the one thing that it shouldn’t change because of any of it is us.”
“And it won’t,” Mabel assured with a small, but steadily growing smile. “Remember what we talked about last night? About not getting all stupid like Stan and Ford, and heck, even the Gems did? Well, we’re not gonna turn out like them. We’re better than that, all four of us are!”
“That’s right!” Steven agreed as they welcomed Connie into their quickly developing group hug. “Because we’re…”
“The Mystery Kids!” they all chimed in together, laughing warmly as they all pulled together, both physically and symbolically. The past few days, the past few weeks really had been tumultuous for all four of them, through trials ranging from Homeworld invasions to battles against demons both external and internal to even interdimensional portals and hidden memories sealed away. But even despite all the strain it had been put under, their bond was a resilient one, built to last under the pressure stacked against it without crumbling apart. What was lost between the kids had been found, and as long as they kept sight of it, so it would remain.
And yet… even despite the comforting assurance of their newly-secured friendship, the kids still had their worries. Worries of the past they still knew nothing about, about the mistakes and terrors laying dead but not buried somewhere years before any of them were even born. Anxiety about the present, about how things were now as shaken and shattered as they were in light of everything they had learned.
And most of all fears of the future, of what they’d find as they moved onward into the unsteady, uncertain darkness ahead, where literally anything or anyone could lie in wait.
Next:
#AHAHAHAHAH ENJOY KIDS#universe falls#jen writes#crossover#au#gravity falls#steven universe#steven#dipper#mabel#ford#garnet#amethyst#pearl#connie#stan#wendy#soos#rose quartz#greg#lion#mystery shack#crystal gems#angst and shit#keyword is deal#fanfiction
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Inverted
This is a repost. I’m bringing my stories to this profile. Previously posted on @nowadaysprincesses
This idea came to me when Zig's makeover was released and someone said that "if he was first presented like that I'd choose him as my LI" or something like that I'll check it later. So I thought "What if Zig was the group mom and mc the new barista?" and here we are. So I hope you enjoy my little Zig x MC (here called Jay) fanfic, and I'll post more chapters soon. This will follows the interactions between them in The Freshman 3, at least for now.
xo, Nanie.
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in·vert
verb
past tense: inverted;
past participle: inverted
put upside down or in the opposite position, order, or arrangement.
Chapter 1 - Brand new barista
“Mom, have you seen my sneakers?” Jay said, looking under her bed.
“Jay, use the black heels or you’re gonna be late. Oh, and don’t forget to put some make up!” Her mother said, catching an apple from the kitchen table and leaving to work.
“Mama, I’m going to work, not to a party!” Jay said to the door closing. Her mother put her head inside. “Just today, baby! You need to make a good impression on your first day!” She said, winking, and closed the door.
Jay tried for a couple minutes to find the sneakers. Soon giving up, she put the heels, a little make up and went out.
Arriving at the Northbridge train station a moment too late, she runned unsuccessfully to get into the train. Sadly she watched the door closing in front of her. Dammit, late at the first day. This is so great, Jay.
An hour later, Jay arrived at work. Coming into the coffee shop, she looked at the counter and calmed down: Her boss was nowhere on sight. The only person behind it was Brandon, the guy that was about to leave - and she was the one designed to take his place.
“Hey Brandon, hope I’m not too late! I lost the train.” Jay said, making a sad face. “It’s ok, at least for now your shift will be at night, today is just for training. Grab your apron and let me teach you how this stuff works.” He pointed around to the whole place. “Hope you come to like this place as much as I do.”
“I hope so.” Jay said, smiling.
————————————
As the days passed by, Jay got more and more used to working as a barista. It was good that she started at the school break, so the shop wasn’t crowded and she had the chance to learn the place’s routine without people bursting in every second.
Also, the friendship between Jay and Brandon grew fast. Since he was the one that was training her, he becomes a constant person in her life, and soon he was her friend. She wasn’t used to have friends anymore. People normally don’t like to be friends with a time bomb like her. Eventually she turned the friendships a huge mess. But Brandon saw past it. They used to talk about almost everything, and even having just a couple things in common at the surface, deep down both were good friends to each other.
Unfortunatelly for her, Brandon left to Peru. The day he left she went to the airport to say goodbye. There, she finally met Zack, Brandon’s boyfriend. They were such cuties together! Zack cried like a little child, and even hugged Jay after saying the last goodbye to Brandon at the gate. Jay didn’t kept contact with him, but Zack seemed to be a good guy too.
————————————
A few days later the spring quarter started. She was still adapting with the sudden movement of these days. Since the job hadn’t a dress code, she always dressed up as the rocker she was, but tried to be as collected as possible when dealing with the customers. That was mostly to not lose her temper (and keeping the job). Because of that ‘cold’ attitude, some students started to call her Ice Jay. It didn’t matter to her, truly. At least they seemed to know who they were dealing with.
Every day people were scheduling activities at the coffee shop. That day was a small gig from a punk band. Finally something interesting, she though, although a coffee shop wasn’t exactly a matching place to this kind of music.
Jay was cleaning the counter as a group of students walked into the shop. One of them was Zack, Brandon’s boyfriend. She gave him one of her rare smiles and looked to his friends.
Her eyes stopped at a really handsome guy. Black hair, bright brown eyes and a little lazy and provocative smile at the corner of his mouth. He looked at her and Jay knew she had to meet the guy. Nice thing that I kept using those heels to work, she though. He was so tall. Unfortunately, he broke eye contact, talking again with his friends.
“Hey Dany, do you know who’s the McDreamy over there?” Jay asked to the other barista, making a small motion to point the direction.
Dany studied the group. “Which one? Because all of them are snacks to me.” Jay looked at them, half of the group choosing a table near the windows and the other moving to wait in line to be attended. “Tall, black hair, tan skin and 100% perfection”, Jay said. Dany focused on him. “Oh, that’s Zig. The only thing I know about him is that he lives with Zack and Kaitlyn, so I suppose that he’s also a freshman. I’ve seen him here a couple times, but always at the morning shift.”
Jay listened, still looking at him. Dany gave a small laugh. “Girl, you’re almost drooling all over the place.”
“Look, I’m not gonna marry the guy. I’m just wondering what’s going on under that shirt. Besides…”
“It’s pretty hard not to notice her. She’s beautiful.” At the other side of the shop, Zig looked again at the infamous new barista that Kaitlyn pointed. She was still looking at him, and as soon as he looked at her, she gave him a smirk.
Abbie sighed. “Wow, what is with this place and photogenic baristas?” Tyler made a strange face. “I don’t know, she seems like trouble to me.” Kait laughed of them. “Well, she may be trouble, but I can bet that she’s head over heels for you Zig. She’s totally checking you, all this time!” Kaitlyn said, still smiling.
Zig thought he remembered her face from somewhere, but wasn’t sure. “She seems to be an interesting girl.” The girl had a mysterious aura around her. She had a curly black hair in a loose ponytail, a bandana tied as a tiara and she was also using a dark makeup, maybe because of the gig. She kept looking at him, while talking with the other barista. Maybe he was the subject of their conversation? No, probably not, Zig thought.
Zack saw her and give her a nod. Then started speaking and Zig turned his attention to him. “That’s Jay. I’ve met her at the airport when Brandon left. She’s cool. Kinda creepy, but cool.”
“I guess I’ll try to talk to her later.” Zig said, and they changed subject.
Zig had to admit that coming to Natasha’s gig wasn’t exactly in his plans, but Kaitlyn insisted. Well, he was starting to think that maybe going to the coffee shop that hour of the day was a good thing.
————————————
The biggest problem Jay had with the customers was learn how to deal with some spoiled brats that used to appear now and then. Most of them thinking that Jay was their own employee, and not from the coffee shop. Some of the students was literally testing her patience.
Well, and the most annoying just entered the shop. He spoke loud, trying to caught the attention of the part of Zack’s group waiting in line. With this, he caught the attention of most of the people inside the shop too.
“Well, if it isn’t Hartfeld’s premiere group of ragtag misfits. I hope I’m not interrupting.” Sebastian said, a maleficent smug on his face. Zack and his friends turned to him.
The girl - Kaitlyn, as Dany told her - answered him, exasperated. “This guy again?” Jay already could see them bringing a discussion to life. She prepared herself to intervene if needed. But soon they calmed down and started to discuss in a moderated tone. She decided to attend the customers, but keeping attention to act at the first sign of trouble.
For a couple minutes everything went well. The group became close of her in line and she eavesdropped what they were discussing. Sebastian said something about having nothing to do with an accident. As they came a step closer, she could listen exactly what they were saying. “So even with all the trouble you created last year, Chris is still stuck with you.” Zig said.
Sebastian smirked. They kept talking and Jay set the conversation aside for a couple minutes to complete an order for her current customer. It was the time necessary for them turn the line into a grenade without a pin, waiting to explode.
Kaitlyn was then facing Sebastian, all of her friends around her. “As long as I remember, you lost pretty hard.” Sebastian was about to lose his temper. “Watch what you say next, girl.” He took a step towards her, and Jay excused herself from the counter and prepared to stop the discussion.
“Whoa, the hell are you thinking, Sebastian?” Zig said, positioning himself between Sebastian and Kaitlyn. He towered over Sebastian, which scared him, making him took a step back. “Look, as much as we enjoy having the pleasure of talking with you, I believe that this discussion is pointless. If you excuse me, I have a couple drinks to buy for me and my friends, and I think you should mind your own business.” He said to Sebastian, with tons of sarcasm.
As Zig motioned to his friends to follow him and walked to the counter, Sebastian sticked out his foot and the other tripped on him, falling to the floor. Jay hurried to them. As Zig’s friends helped him to get up, Jay focused on Sebastian. “Hey, what the hell are you doing, Sebastian? Do you think that this is your playground?” She said, approaching Sebastian from behind, poking his shoulder.
He turned and looked at her, his eyes wild. “Look, one more broken kid to your team, Christopher. Do you guys are auditioning or what?” He said, a smirk slowly creeping up on his face.
“You know very well that I work here, you stupid brat. For now, I must ask you to leave, Sebastian, or I’ll have to call the campus security.” Jay said, one hand on her waist and the other pointing to the front door.
Too much fast to anyone have a proper reaction, he took a step closer to Jay and held her arm tight. “Listen very carefully Jay, I come and go as I please, and not even all the black makeup in the world will make me feel threatened by you!” Sebastian cornered Jay in the nearest table. As someone screamed for Sebastian to left her, Jay acted fast. Groping the table and finding a cup, she threw it’s content in Sebastian’s face. A good old Espresso flowed down his face and chest. “My cashmere sweater!” He screamed, pushing her.
As Sebastian pushed her, Jay knocked off at the table, losing her balance. She tried to regain it but fell to the floor beside it anyway, spraining her wrist in the process. As soon as it happened, Zig and his gang were already beside her, helping her to get up. “You’ll pay for this damage, you crazy girl!” Sebastian said, stomping out of the coffee shop.
“Are you okay?” Zig asked, helping her to plant her feet at the floor. Even with all that happening, Jay couldn’t stop herself of thinking how handsome he was. “Yeah, I guess. Uhhhh!” She felt a sting in her wrist. “My hand! I’m gonna kill that son of a-”
“Jane, come here! We need you behind the counter!” Her boss called from the kitchen’s door. The crazy look in her eyes turned into a polite one. “Excuse-me, I must go. Thank you all for the help, and I hope that Sebastian doesn’t cause you trouble anymore.” She said to them as she left.
————————————
As the group settled by a table, they started chatting about all that happened. But Zig’s mind wandered, thinking how curious that woman was. Stepping up into a fight like that, that wasn’t even hers? That demands courage. His eyes wandered to her again, and he saw her talking with the shop’s manager. He seemed to be angry. Soon she was alone again, looking at her hand.
“Guys, I’m gonna check on her.” Zig said, not waiting for a response. As he approached the counter, she looked at him and gave a weak smile. He took that as a good signal. “So, is my knight in shiny armor hurt?” He asked, a playful smile on his lips.
She scoffed, but couldn’t stop herself from smile. “Yeah, seems like I broke my sword hand.” She said, raising her left hand. He stopped smiling as soon as he saw how swollen her pulse was. “Do you mind if I take a look?” He offered, his voice full of concern. She eyed him suspiciously, but extended her arm over the counter. He touched it slightly, but she winced and he retreated. Right after she extended her arm again, without taking it back. “It isn’t broke, just sprained. You need to put some ice on it and it would be good to use a wrist splint also.” He told her, resuming the improvised exam.
“I should ask you how do you know so much about broken wrists, but better not, right?” She said as she started to put some ice over a towel, clumsily. “Actually I already broke mine twice. Do you wanna help with it?” He asked, pointing the towel while getting behind the counter. “You know what? I need.” She gave him space to finish the improvised ice bag. Then he put it over the inside of her wrist, holding her arm cautiously and settled her arm over the counter, letting the ice bag weight over it.
“So, I think I must say thank you, Mr…” She said, extending her right hand to him. “Zigmund, but you can call me Zig.” He said, shaking hands with her. She smiled. “I’m Jane, But everyone knows me as Jay.”
The conversation extended for a while. He discovered that Jay wasn’t a Hartfeld student and also explained to her about the trouble with Sebastian the previous quarter. Every second in front of Jay made Zig yearn to know more and more about her. As he was leaving back to the table, he remembered. “Hey, can you give me your number?” He asked. “Of course. Give me your phone so I can put it.” While she wrote, she asked for his number too, giving her phone to him.
He saved his number with a heart beside his name, and took a selfie to put as contact image. As she saw it, she laughed. “Aren’t you a flirt, Mr. Zig?” He smirked, leaning against the counter, getting closer to her. “And I’ve been told I’m damn good at it. Is it working?” She laughed again. Getting closer to him, she whispered. “I’m still here, right?” And he whispered back. “Glad to see that I’m not losing my touch, then.”
She took advantage of the proximity and kissed his cheek “Bye, Zig. See you around.” She said, going back to the counter and talking to a customer. “Good evening, how can I help you?” The regal barista was back on her post. Zig made his way back to the table, but his mind was still over that counter.
That girl was poison, and Zig couldn’t wait to taste a little more of it.
#zigmund ortega#zig ortega#zig x mc#choices#pixelberry#the freshman#the sophomore#the junior#tf/ts/tj
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FannibalFest 2017 Recap! 1/3
PIC HEAVY!
PHEW! Going to have to do a few of these to even attempt to cover such an amazing experience! My apologies for taking so long with this... Con drop is real people! And even though I’m usually on Tumblr more, Twitter was easier to use during the Con. If you’re interested in even more pics and stuff, you can always go find me there (@MyDesignHanibl). I’ll do some general con stuff in this post, and follow up with two about the tours (one for each day).
FIRST OFF, WHAT AN AMAZING CON!!!!!
If you were thinking about going but were on the fence, PLEASE consider it next time! It was absolutely amazing. The guests, tours, panels, props, meals and overall vibes were just wonderful. @fannibalfest-toronto did an incredible job!
Our wonderful guests, Janice Poon, Vladimir Jon Cubrt, Martha De Laurentiis, Demore Barnes, Scott Thompson, and Aaron Abrams! And one of many appearances of special guest, Peking Hannibal... Janice brought him and he got a really good run for his money with us ;)
SO MANY MORE THE PICS under the cut!
I apologize in advance that my pics of the guests aren’t better... I was so busy clapping and giggling (not to mention not wanting to shove a camera in their faces) that they could be better :/
The cast arrived at the welcome ceremony ahead of Mamma Martha. They seemed so happy and excited to see us, Vlad ran around the room giving high fives, Demore was incredibly eloquent, Aaron and Scott hilarious, and Janice adorable!
The guests were presented GORGEOUS personalized flower crowns by the incredibly talented @apoptoses Below, you can see the lovely crown she made for me, and her absolutely STUNNING cosplay of Margot! Love and hugs my talented, funny, lovely Hannipologist friend XO P.S. She takes commissions!
Some photos of me with the Cast and one with Mamma Martha! They were all so generous and seemed to get a real kick out of everyone’s poses. I love Janice being EXTRA in the group photo and Scott deciding to make it like an awkward family photo... Demore kept his hand on my back through the photo and I could barely concentrate ;P He really tries to make sure people are at ease and he is constantly dropping words of eloquent wisdom with that incredible voice of his!!! When it came time for my solo photo with him, he asked what I wanted and I just blurted out “I want you to strangle me!” he gave me that low chuckle and this pic is what came of it... we laughed later at the autograph session that it looks like I’m being strangled by a Dr Seuss character ;P Aaron and Scott really liked my photo with them, and Aaron even posted it on his Instagram! It was from Scott’s comments about how his gun instructor on the show had to keep telling him to tone down the Charlie’s Angels with how he wielded the gun, HA! Vlad was super high energy and welcoming... I was able to borrow the plastic knife from the lovely @miasmatik and ask him to “cut my throat” Vlad asked if I wanted us to play serious to which I stupidly responded “I’m happy you’re murdering me!” He laughed and said “Ok, then I’m going to be really menacing.” ;P They all loved @apoptoses flower crown and my shirt by @wisesnail <333
Mamma Martha! We were incredibly lucky that Martha announced at the last minute that she was going to do free autographs and selfies with everyone! She was so generous with her time and seemed really amazed by the dedication and creativity of the fandom. No major Season 4 news, but she’s definitely working on it and appreciates our ongoing support.
One of the biggest highlights for me was when my fic The Way I Changed You won the Stag Awards for the fluff category!!! Both Janice and Demore presented my award (a copy of the @radiance-anthology and a nice plaque!) and gave me some lovely hugs :) I’ll do a proper post for it soon, but I’ve finally got it up on AO3 if you’d like to read!
Aaron and Scott joking about not caring that the other is answering questions aimed only at them ;P With all their hilarity and jokes, what struck me most is that they seem so much like an old married couple! Aaron is such a long-suffering wife, and Scott constantly looks to Aaron to both rein him in and egg him on :P They riff off each other so much and seem really in sync. Both incredibly good sports and Aaron in particular seemed so fascinated and complimentary of the fandom and everything we do.
Martha did her own panel and told us so much about how Hannibal came to be, the complexities of rights, and how she found herself in the roll she’s in. I had no idea that she started out with a modeling scholarship that took her to New York... hating the modeling, she then went to school for accounting and started doing books for films in New York! Such an inspiring story. The final panel had everyone, including Janice, which was a lovely treat! Janice’s story was just as fascinating as Martha’s, including designing weddings for Saudi princesses, being an editor, and owning a fancy shop in Toronto’s high-end Yorkville neighbourhood. She described herself as “rudderless” and said it was a wonderful thing :D
At his panel Demore spoke so eloquently about basically everything and gave two lucky Fannibals the opportunity to get played like a cello...to two songs he hummed from Phantom of the Opera ;P Aaron found he was missing a button at the Sassy Science panel...eventually he substituted a Hannibal pin to fill in the gap!
Some more photos of the cast... Demore being beautifully eloquent at the meet and greet, Aaron checking Scott before he said something he shouldn’t (he was slacking on the job a bit!), Vlad being Vlad and really coaxing the energy in the room, and Aaron making Hannidoll bow down to him in the meet and greet (take note of the pin). Mostly they asked questions about us at the meet and greet, and seemed so genuinely interested in the fandom and what we do. They said we feel like a family :)
A fun arrangement of Hannidolls that accidentally ended up as a centerpiece on the main table at the luncheon! Aaron in particular seemed to think it was hilarious and took a ton of pics ;P It was moved off the table since we didn’t want them to be uncomfortable, but they thought it was funny :)
Our dinner with Janice! The menu had vegetarian options for us few vegetarian cannibals, which was lovely. Janice came around and sat with us while we ate and was honestly just ONE OF US. She’s just like talking to another Fannibal, albeit one who knows a bunch of stories about teaching Mads to cook and whether he swallows (he does ;P) and she can be just as wonderfully inappropriate as us (take for example her comment about hypothetically saving Hannibal’s cock in the freezer for “reasons” instead of eating it ;P) Afterwards she signed our menus and hung out. She in no way kept herself separate from us and often was seen around the Con or taking in panels (or messing around with the Peking Hannibal!)
Peking Hannibal was a big hit...Janice brought him to the party and he made lots of appearances throughout the Con. He’s an actual Mads body cast so you can imagine that we were...interested...for reasons ;P Janice’s sanguinaccio dolce demo was on the second day and she had him all laid out and covered in fruit (top pic!) and was totally cool with us checking him out after the demo was over.
OK! I have so many pics but I should stop :P If you have any particular questions just let me know!
Stay tuned for 2 more posts on the two tours!!!
1st tour post
2nd tour post
#fannibalfest#fannibals#hannibal#fannibal family#fannibalfest toronto#convention#aaron abrams#vladimir jon cubrt#scott thompson#janice poon#martha de laurentiis#peking hannibal#fannibal#so much fun#fannibal love#we are the best fandom#such an amazing fandom#fandom life#wish you were back here#miss you fannibals
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the difference between good and well: a Bonnalise fic
My first time posting a Bonnalise fic. This ship needs more appreciation xo
Annalise's eyes blinked open and she groaned slightly when she saw the time. Accidentally falling asleep was one of her least favourite things and these days it happened almost weekly. She assembled her loose thoughts from the new case, files and appointments flashed around her mind’s eye and she made a mental note to make an audio note for Frank about doing some recon that didn't involve chasing student skirt for once. It was a lot of thoughts at once but Annalise liked it that way. Mental silences had a way of letting other things creep in, sinister as cautious feet on floorboards in the darkened corridors of her mind. It amazed her how the sight of blood no longer quickened her breath. Instead the familiar curl of disgust at the corner of her mouth over glossy photos of the dismembered departed. But never anything worse than what awaited her beyond any sleep that wasn't dampened with vodka-drowsiness and tempered with thread count sheets. Those were the nights she'd wake, blankets twisted around herself, serpentine and sucking in air too fast for her own screaming lungs. Silence. The house was silent now but for the creak of beams and the whirring of the fridge, making ice while she slept.
At least something in this house is doing its job.
She got up, popping her back and making her way to the fridge. Cocktail onions. Olives: black and green. Mustard. A container with a post-it note saying it was Wes'. And that his fridge was out of commission. Ordinary enough except that his use of full stops pricked at the back of Annalise's mind.
He's still mad at me.
But he needed to be. To-
She didn't need a mental note to tell her how much fixing she'd need to do. She looked inside. Baked beans, rice and a pathetic excuse for coleslaw. Maybe she could buy him a new fridge, or buy herself one and give him this. Make it look like a coincidence instead of charity. The boy would refuse any handout...the whole thing would have to wait on this case. And there was still the issue of the damn empty fridge.
Those damn kids.
She sent a grocery list to Bonnie and waited for the usually immediate 'Seen.'
When it didn't appear she added 'When you're not busy.' The full stop glared at her and she sighed. She was doing it again. This - thing with Bonnie was new and in all honesty as hard as she was clinging she was just as terrified it would break in her hands. Or she would break it first. She hastily pulled her phone back out
Nevermind, I'll just get everything myself.
It was backtracking, and even worse now that she thought about it a 'don't worry' probably would have been better than a never mind. She was making it worse. She swallowed the sting at the back of her throat. Thinking back to that night. And how she'd faltered in the midst of it all, the drugs, the deceit, feeling more lonely than ever, how she'd faltered mid-reprimand and Bonnie had stumbled over her own hesitation for once. It had been enough to have the warmth of that embrace then, to wake up a part of her that had been laying dormant lately while guilt paced her mental cage. The never-ending need to protect giving way to the feeling of safety. A deep exhale encircled by memories of thin hands that wrung themselves at every furrow of Annalise's brow. It made her want things. Ridiculous-given-the-circumstances things. Stability that wasn't restless on a sharp apex. Mornings of sleeping in, together. God, it all seemed so bitterly, hilariously possible now, and she was screwing this up.
She stepped out into the night and drove at a cruise to the bodega on the main street where the dim fluorescence showed it was near deserted. She couldn't help the glance in the rear-view mirror nor the annoyance that rose meeting her own stare, sleep-lined face and hair disheveled. But a bodega was perfect, and she'd never have a repeat of running into a DA official with a smug bug-eyed stare at her 3AM hangover run, her skewed silk bonnet and slippers. She couldn't forget the twinge of embarrassment at his stupid smirk, how no amount of cold courtroom courtesy could wipe it off. Then turning down the aisle she did forgot to look where she was going.
“Annalise! I- sorry, I didn't look where I was going...I got your message I was um-”
It was Bonnie. So she’d more than gotten her message. But where Annalise expected to feel her spite quenched she felt empty and raw seeing her there, blonde hair unkempt as straw. Her kitten heels replaced with canvas shoes, car shoes. So she ran here. She was muttering apologies and wringing her hands. And before Annalise could stop herself she was holding her in the frozen food section. She felt a sigh over her shoulder and Bonnie’s cheek pressed closer to her neck though she didn’t make any other movement. A sudden coldness finally parted them, the pint of mint chocolate still in Annalise’s hand. With a lopsided smile that pretended it wasn’t, Bonnie took it from her with a hand that lingered too long and dropped it in the basket.
There was the baby, and then there wasn't. And after that Annalise didn't feel like doing much. She couldn't stop thinking about Rose, and Rose's baby, and Rose's blood on her hands. But she could drink again, so she did. Could drown her thoughts, dredge them up whenever she needed evidence she was bad, all the way through. Confirming the suspicion growing inside of her since infancy. And she could win her cases, so she did. She learned it was easier, so easy to do whatever it took when you were bad, all the way through, so easy to win when you had already lost everything.
Annalise didn't leave her house much. Always working, pacing in the evening between office and library. No book or file was dusty. Everything in the Keating house shone with care. Cherry floorboards and a table made for candlelit dinners. Annalise's skin shone with care, with back massages from her husband who always had soft words and sometimes screwed his students, sometimes massaged them too and washed his hands. Annalise's hair shone because Annalise learned that being taken seriously sometimes meant erasing every trace of Anna Mae, of baby hairs and softness. She'd learned that when an attorney had called her ghetto during a recess. Annalise's eyes never shone.
Some of Annalise's students eyes shone when they walked in, and then they didn't. Around exam time especially. That was when Sam would have more students come to him for therapy (Sam would still also make some of the students come). After the baby that wasn't, Sam stopped working for a week. He stopped talking to his wife's belly, and to his wife. He forgot to tell one student he cancelled, a student whose eyes shone well past the bar exam results. Her eyes shone, specifically, for Annalise.
In class Bonnie paid the most attention. Annalise had only ever called on her three times. The first time she had been wrong, had referrenced a case without having studied it in its entirety, and Annalise had described the hypothetical butterfly effect of that error, had followed it to a disastrous court conclusion that ended with Bonnie in jail. Her detail was frightening, impressive. And as she advanced towards Bonnie's desk, the girl noticed her gaze was too. And she imagined that being pinned by that gaze, grazed by those teeth. And she had missed something else and been wrong again. The third time she had prepared, hadn't slept, suffocated herself in boxes and boxes of files. She had gotten it right, and seen the glorious upward quirk of Annalise's mouth. Had felt it through her like a shiver. Had imagined those lips on the nape of her neck in the morning, smiling through mumbled bickering, lazily claiming what was already hers. Bonnie kept her smiles hidden. Didn't it feel so much better to have smiles to hide at all?
Bonnie came to the house for her last session with Sam when she heard them arguing, she'd let herself in and heard Sam say some ugly things to Annalise, unawares of her standing a doorway away, half-hidden, the other half apparently invisible. He said things that sounded like echoes of the dirty secrets Annalise might have scraped into herself, might have shown to his eye and hidden away again. He repeated unrepeatable confessions, where his mouth was the soothing words had all rubbed away and now was only a hole for darts. And Annalise's skin that was soft from his hands shone with fresh tears. Sam drove away and Bonnie stepped out from the shadows and found herself around Annalise, who was shaking, then straightening up, then suddenly asking if she needed work or a referral.
"You're a smart girl, Bonnie, and you like a challenge. Don't become one of the losers over in Copyright cause I don't want to find out you hung yourself over legacy misappropriation."
Bonnie laughed despite herself, acutely aware of the parts of her that were still touching Annalise as they sat on the stairs (how strange to see Annalise sit anywhere this close to a floor). Her left knee and her right. Their shoulders.
"I could always use someone on my team, the sooner the better." Annalise let the words hang in the air casually, but Bonnie paid attention, she sensed the uncertainty. Somehow it made her braver.
"When can I start?" and Annalise smiled.
Sam came back home less and less, and talked less. They didn't look each other in the eye. 800-thread count Egyptian cotton felt better than her husband's skin, his nails, as it turned out. And there was always vodka, and the drawer in her desk where it lived. Normally Annalise hated silence, but this type, the type that crept around the floorboards at night, and made the house feel like it was contracting in on her. Annalise had woken up on nights like this as a girl, had rushed outside and lain under the trees out back, feeling oddly safe listening to the crickets, the rustling through the twisting branches above incessant, and higher, the protective circle of the moon.
The silence pulled down, dripped between the floorboards of baby's room into basement, was too much without the steady trickle of alcohol and the soundtrack of her inner monologue. Her own twisted sense of humour making her chuckle instead of want to vomit. In the lull between cases life hovered between sleepless dream and dreamless sleep.
Then one day she woke up to a soft knocking of fingers on wood. A slow blink and she saw hesitant fingers shifting a rocks glass from where it sat dangerously close to the edge of her desk, another slow blink and she forced herself to sit up. The pressure on her temples was immediate.
"How are you doing?" said Bonnie, resting a hand near Annalise's shoulder on the back of the chair as if she were approaching an open flame, near, but not near enough.
Annalise noticed the same way Bonnie didn't notice the way she leaned towards the almost-touch. Normally Annalise would have snapped at a question like that, prompted Bonnie to say what she really meant; "Why are you passed out on your desk? Why aren't you preparing to teach your class? Why are you drinking so much when your problems are too big to be swallowed?" Annalise tried to fix Bonnie with a look but was met with eyes so sincerely concerned it stunned her before she flinched again at another streak of pain across her forehead.
"Water." she managed to croak out the singular word, yet she swore Bonnie had already turned on her heel and darted towards the kitchen and returned before she'd finished saying it.
"Here. I found these too, for your...headache." She had almost said hangover and glanced down at a spot on the rug where Annalise had spilled some tonic.
"What time is it?"
"3:30 in the afternoon. You weren't in your office on campus and I was just going to check with you about the slides."
Annalise groaned, remembering her course coordinator's insistence that she adapt to more modern multimedia teaching methods, incorporating more powerpoints and infuriating interfaces that froze unpredictably, and that little ball in the mouse that always needed cleaning. Why did that thing need to exist???
Bonnie must have thought the groaning was pain-related and she stepped closer opening her fists as if she wanted to do something but couldn't.
"Um, if you're not feeling up to it I could notify-"
"Please, so they could write me off as another woman not up to the job? I'd rather get crucified in court than in front of these jokers." At that Bonnie smiled, something lighting up her expression that might have been pride. Annalise felt the strangest blip of pleasure at having caused it, then she flinched again at a sudden wave of migraine returned.
"You should lie down-" blurted Bonnie before collecting herself,
"I mean, if you want to."
Annalise must have glanced at her watch for a fraction of a second but Bonnie was already at her side, "Just for a minute, I could- help you relax?"
A memory from months before surfaced in the silence.
"Actually, that would be...nice."
And Annalise was laying on the couch like before, arm draped over her eyes to shield the light. For a moment Bonnie paused like she didn't know where to move, but Annalise pretended she didn't notice and let Bonnie decide to draw up a chair. After that she maneuvered a pillow and guided Annalise so she was on her side, then she paused again and Annalise entertained the idea she was being admired, her face warmed at the thought of her secretary considering the curve of her spine. She was going to have to ease up on Frank if she went on like this. At least this way, her face was hidden in the half-shadow of the angle of the couch. She felt cool hands on her shoulders, the touch tentative at first, but then she felt herself relax against the rhythm, the constant push and tug of thumbs untwisting a knot she hadn't known was there. A small moan escaped her parted lips like a breath, but she was sure Bonnie didn't notice.
A pause, then suddenly a touch to her temples, then braver, softer circles there suddenly bringing a waterfall of relief to her fevered brain. Annalise felt her eyelids drifting shut, her mind afloat in thoughts of warm hands and warm smiles...Bonnie smelled like vanilla, not the cheap car scent kind Annalise hated, the nice kind, that made you think of familiar scents of a kitchen and waiting for cookies to cool. She let her eyes fall shut before opening them again with a start,
"Mmfph...thanks for that Bonnie. I should get ready and you should get back to Ben. Tell him to send a different I.T technician, someone less...condescending. I'm expecting a fax in twenty minutes and they need a reply so tell Frank." she'd gotten up and busied herself stacking some papers together, and brushed past Bonnie into the hallway before pausing at the door. "And thanks."
Her secretary's bewildered expression turned into a small smile, "You already said that." Annalise felt her face warm again. "I'm um...really glad I could help."
The next time Bonnie and Frank had been driving all over time collecting pieces of a case only for it to fall apart after new developments at the D.A's office. They could feel the frazzled energy coming off of Annalise from as far as the porch door so they had both been eager to go out for some drinks before returning to face the next day's case which was guaranteed to be punishing.
Frank soon found distraction in another undergrad, this one a white girl fumbling her way through explaining each of her 'ancient Chinese' tattoos, and Bonnie soon got lost in the bottom of her glass, worrying about Annalise, alone in that house right now. Wondering if she was lonely, if she ever got lonely. A familiar feeling of guilt clenched at her for leaving at a time like this. Maybe she couldn't be much help with the case but she could be there. She was barely aware of getting up and leaving, barely aware of Frank asking her what was up while tattoo girl teased him up against a counter, barely aware of the rain that was spattering the windows on her way to Annalise.
Annalise wasn't as bad as she'd imagined, she was worse. Passed out and lolling off the edge of the couch, a bottle of vodka and some broken glass near her head. Thunder rolled and Annalise mumbled something, furrowed her brow and rolled over. Bonnie felt something within her break, and she was on her knees.
"Annalise" and she frowned in sleep before opening her eyes "Whatimeisit" she asked. She asked Bonnie for the time constantly. Bonnie had checked the time more often in the past few months than in her whole life. Bonnie didn't mind, because it gave her something to say and sometimes she would hold her watch out for Annalise to see, then her boss would hold her wrist for a better angle, peer at it and then get back to work.
It was 2:33 am when Bonnie finally got Annalise upstairs ('all these damn stairs' as Annalise eloquently put it) and into bed. These was another trip down and up again for a glass of water, which Annalise drained, a small frown creasing her features, though she was grateful. Bonnie turned and heard her sigh as she settled into her pillow. She lingered in the doorway, noting the smallness of Annalise in that empty bed, her natural hair exposed without the usual silk wrap, draped in her crimson robe and expensive sheets.
Bonnie was aware she was stalling, after having the weight of Annalise against her on those crowded stairs the distance between them now felt wide, and it was widening. She turned out the lights so the only spots remaining where the red pinpricks of light from the clock and where the moonlight played over Annalise's forehead, now relaxed, her eyelids, her mouth.
"Stay" she mumbled, or Bonnie could have imagined that. "Stay with me." the words were firmer, and she felt Annalise's eyes on her in the dark, heard her move and lift the covers, making a space that pulled Bonnie to her as if the room was suddenly airless. Bonnie remained breathless, counting the seconds and staring straight ahead. Then Annalise, with an impatient sound like sucking teeth linked two arms around her and pulled them flush against each other. Hyperaware of the places where they were touching and oddly cold everywhere else.
It was Annalise's breathing that smoothed over where Bonnie's neck met the tension of her shoulder. It was Annalise's body around her in Annalise's bed with the scent of leather...from her briefcase and book binding...lavender from the shower...shea butter from her morning ritual...Annalise's body that anyone could mistake for being well loved but which clung to Bonnie's own shower-blistered back like a lifeline, the cool fingertips oddly warming her wherever they trailed.
Soon the fingers slowed in their movements and Annalise drifted off. Funny how Bonnie could tell without looking at her, could feel her mind slow its constant calculations. How easy would it be to close her own eyes and give herself to sleep, to Annalise's embrace, to this feeling that was a little bit like a pleasurable panic.
But Bonnie knew this was good, so good, and therefore too good to last. There was work to do and...besides, Annalise wouldn't mention this in the morning. There wouldn't be breakfast or tangled limbs or smiling through forehead kisses. She would wake up to the sounds of showering and she'd sneak out of the room to spare her boss some awkwardness. Perhaps that was always the problem; she knew her too well.
#my fanfiction#Bonnalise#Annalise Keating#Bonnie Winterbottom#femslashrevolution#long post#maybe the first of many if I get good feedback#hint hint#alcohol mention#miscarriage mention#angst and comfort mostly
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ايه اللي جابك و بتشكي لمين عذابك | sana, gen, 1.5k
a bit of healing for my girl, post-imagine (we weren’t living in a racist, misogynist freak show). sana goes home.
title from enta tani by haifa wehbe.
Sana stands outside, halfway down the steps to the river. Halfway means that people are less likely to stop and look at her for too long, and she stares intently at her phone, switching between the walking and bus tab where she’s mapping her path home. The walk from SYNG to her flat is 40 minutes. The bus is 24 minutes, and there’s two transfers.
She slides her eyes up to the sky, where the sun is hanging halfway to setting. On her left, someone passes by with white blonde hair and light skin and a biting laugh and she jumps, flinches so deep that the girl looks back over her shoulder at Sana, eyes lingering on her turban, the way the black of her eyeliner has smudged around her eyes. Sana bristles, narrows her eyes, squares her shoulders, remembers who she is. The girl turns around quickly, curling her fingers around white forearm of the man she’s with. Sana thinks that they could pass as siblings, same round blue eyes and light, light hair. She wonders, without heat, how people who get sunburnt after 5 minutes of exposure came to burn and pillage the whole world.
She watches them retreat, and the fall of her hair across her shoulders calls the image of Noora and Yousef back into her mind, sharp. She casts her gaze down, looks at the black of her fingernails framed by the brown of her flesh, pressed against the edges of her phone case, and wills the angerhurtsadness to bubble down again, kettle simmering instead of boiling over.
She forgets how long the walk home is. When she unlocks her phone, the app has erased her query, and she types it in again. The walk from SYNG to her flat is 40 minutes. The bus is 24 minutes, and there’s two transfers. She stares at the screen, sees white blonde hair, blue eyes, light brown skin, the soft curl of black hair against bitten down fingernails, blinks, sees the path to her flat outlined in blue dots, and she starts off in a direction, away.
*
It takes 50 minutes to get home, and two minutes struggling with her keys, and one minute outside with her back pressed up against the front door, chin tucked to chest. Sana opens the door and holds it as she slips off her shoes, closing it as quietly as she can behind her. The house is dark and quiet, and after a moment, she understands that she’s alone.
Sana retreats to her room without turning on any lights, closes the door behind herself with a soft click. She strips her blazer off onto the chair already covered in clothes, and her fingers come up to touch at the pins holding her scarf in place. Her eyes rest on her image in the mirror above the dresser. The dark of her room and the ugliness of the day paints her memories in broad discolored smudges, recalling where she stood pinning her scarf a few hours prior, anticipation curling low and warm in her stomach as she texted with Elias and the girls.
When she catches sight of her reflection, the feeling grabs her from the inside. It’s waving at someone you’ve met a few times and they don’t remember you, it’s your mouth not fitting around a word in the right way and your friends laughing good-naturedly and correcting you because you’ve only ever read it and your immigrant parents don’t know what it means, it’s the feeling when you’re on a bus in the city that you were born in and people stare at you and communicate mostly in aggressive hand gestures, like you can’t understand, like you’d never understand.
It’s your best friend, rolling her eyes at the call to prayer, and disrespecting your brother and religion and trust; it’s the way this brown skin threatens from the outside simply by nature of existing; it’s having the audacity to live life fully, sweetly, painfully, from all edges and curves, while muslim.
It’s humiliation, feverish and awful under her whole skin, and it’s a wretched sort of loneliness: the kind that isn’t based in a place or a situation or a people, but instead in a life, in splitting roots among two lands, in countries and families torn across borders and nationality. It bruises under her eyes and in the softness of her stomach, vulnerable, bare and trusting that her roots were finally taking this time.
She presses her fingers to the edge where her hair and hijab meet the curve of her ear, meets her own eyes in the mirror, tries to find the darkness there that everyone seems to be seeing. She looks the same as always, edges carved with powders and eyeliner, and the soft round of her face painted in a warm palette of browns.
Sana thinks that she is beautiful, sometimes more beautiful than her white friends. Today was one of those days. Still one of those days, she corrects herself, gently thumbing away the blackness under her eyes where the liner has gone awry. She loves the fullness of her lips and the angles of her eyes, the way her dark lashes frame her eyes without mascara.
Sana blinks, watches the movement as long as she can before the world goes black and comes back again. Her room is a wash of blues led through the window as dusk sets in. She looks out the window, and presses the lock button on her phone to check the time but the screen stays black.
She glances up into the mirror again, sees her browns washed out with blues, remembers her face washed out in purples, hiding behind a bathroom door. Thinks fuck that, and turns away – not from her reflection but from this light that is making her seem like so much less than she is.
She flicks on the light and goes to wash.
*
Sana removes her nail polish methodologically, the sharp astringent of the acetone cutting the sweet scent of the reed diffuser. She unpins her scarf and sets it aside, pushes her sleeves up past her elbows.
She folds her hands across her stomach and makes niyaat, closing her eyes and nudging the rest of her thoughts gently aside. She washes her hands, her face, her arms. She focuses on the feeling of the water sliding down her skin, imagines the heaviness in her heart as passenger as she lets the water drip from her body to the basin. Imagines her mind full of light, bismillah.
She smoothes her hands over her hair from her hairline down, drags up behind her ears and gently along the inner edges.
Ash‐hadu anlaa ilaaha illAllah, wa ash‐hadu anna Muhammadan rasululah.
The world goes very quiet as she reenters her room. She wraps her widest scarf around her head and over her shoulders and folds her sleeves back down. When she closes her eyes, she feels the hot burn of embarrassment and anger return as she turns inward, images of white faces turning towards her, talking about her behind hands, her own missteps over the last month all flash unbidden behind her eyelids, and she shakes her head, blinks her eyes open again.
Her own words return to her: in spite of all the chaos. She calls herself back, gently, lovingly. She holds herself around the middle, and rubs soothing circles with her thumbs into the soft fabric of her shirt. Return to what really matters.
Here is the truth: she is angry because their pity is not welcome here. She loves her edges, the parts of her that defend her right to live as full of a life as these boring white women, the parts of her that are stubborn and hard and paranoid, all the parts of her that bite back. She bites back for the next woman in a hijab on the bus, for her mamma, for the girls deciding whether or not to cover.
She loves herself, all of herself, is what they don’t understand. She loves her faith, and her grace, and the generosity of her spirit that allows her to stretch so far into both of her worlds, to try and make them work together; her resilience, patience, and her depthless capacity for love and loyalty, mash’Allah.
She straightens, empties the fire in her stomach onto the floor in a deep exhale, lets her inhale flood her heart with the love she has for herself, borne from the love her god has for her, bright and cleansing.
She raises her hands and begins to pray.
note: i am not muslim! a lot of the feelings in this piece were drawn from my own experience as a child in a family of immigrants and as a woman of color, but i know that while we all have some shared experiences, being a muslim woman of color is a very particular one and i want to make space for that. please let me know if i should make edits to anything and will gladly receive that criticism. xo
#skam#sana bakkoush#sana deserves the moon and the sun and this whole earth#skam fic#my work#femme supremacy#browns in love#with themselves#ily @ sana#whites are cancelled call back tomorrow
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3 Ways To Make A “Perfect” Pinterest Pin
Tips and ideas for how to create the best Pinterest pins! My top 3 ways for figuring out what Pinterest thinks would be a perfect pin for your blog, product or service.
I am a huge marketing nerd and love figuring things out… but up until now, Pinterest was a bit of a puzzle to me. I knew I should be able to get more traffic from there, but nothing I did really seemed to make a huge difference.
Until I figured out this one thing….
please note :: I often recommend resources, some I receive an affiliate commission for at no additional cost to you, these all help to keep this site free for you!
Pinterest Marketing “Rules”
When I started doing Pinterest seriously a few years ago, I really tried to get big numbers and had a few pins that drove some traffic to my website and Etsy stores, but honestly, it felt like I was doing A LOT of work for not all that many results.
So I took some classes, some were AMAZING and some were just blah, but they all had “rules” to live by! And now I get so much better results by breaking ALL the rules!
You HAVE To Stick To Your “Brand”
This one killed me for so long. All the normal marketing people told me to “have a brand” so I did. I had a look to my pins that was super distinctive and … wah, wah, wah. I got okay Pinterest results, but nothing amazing.
And then I figured out that Pinterest doesn’t care about my brand, it cares about what people on Pinterest like… doh!
You CAN’T Make More Than One Pin For Your Post, Product or Service!
I don’t know if this was ever true, but for sure it is not true now, you don’t have to have just one pin for post, product or service offering. You can have as many as you need to get traction.
Keep adding pins until something “hits” and you start to see results. Don’t just give up when it isn’t working.
I frequently check my stats to see if I am getting traffic from Pinterest and if not, then I make a new pin and see if I can get that one to pop!
You CAN’T Pin Multiple Times A Day
Oh my gosh, this one… Pinterest doesn’t care how many times a day you pin!
Pinterest WANTS new and fresh pins that are interesting to their users. Pin as many as you want as long as you have a plan and are mixing things up and not just pinning the same 3 things over and over again.
There is a RIGHT Ratio of Pinning
Back in the day, like 2012, there was a right-ish ratio of pinning. Pinterest was more concerned with you having curated boards and sharing.
But now they are more pin/subject based and want to have as many great pins available for their users as possible.
You don’t have to pin anyone else’s pins if you have enough content of your own! that said, I DO pin other people’s pins from my Tailwind Tribes, but that benefits me too!
Looking At Pinterest – Search
Okay, here is the first big secret to getting your pins to work. Honestly, I do this for every set of pins I make and it has changed my life.
Do a search on Pinterest and see what the first “group” of pins look like. I always use my desktop so this is usually 17-20 pins.
You will see that there are a few different kinds of pins that rank highly. When you are making your own pins, do those exact kinds of pins!
Headbands
I am a little obsessed with headbands right now (I just got a super short haircut) and so I frequently check Pinterest to see what is out there. Taking a quick peek at the headbands pins, we see headbands on people, product posts, and a couple of headband articles.
This is great if you are an Etsy seller or blogger. As a seller you don’t have to blog, but as a blogger you can have an article pin, a lifestyle pin and a product pin! Whoo whoo!
Making any of these kinds of pins would mean you might be able to get traction in the Pinterest search!
Pin Sources… Styling With Christina, Etsy (not active), Veryshine
Decoupage
I am starting to do more decoupage posts on my Artsy Fartsy blog so before I even start taking pictures, I need to know what kinds are popular on Pinterest! Here we see finished products, kind of a collage of what was used with a finished product and then a “how to” pin of the entire process.
Yes, writing a blog post is fun for me, but seeing these kinds of pictures helps me to know what I need to do when making my products and taking pictures of the process!
Pin Sources… 10marifet, Designertrapped, Homestoriesatoz
Etsy Jewelry
Okay here is one for my Etsy seller, product peeps! A quick peek shows that few of the Etsy jewelry pics are “products on white backgrounds”, even the plain ones have a bit of a flair. Also lifestyle pictures and a collage show up!
I am SUPER careful with my product peeps not to make blogging suggestions! My besty sells on her Shopify store and she is NOT going to write a whole blog post about her products, but FOR SURE she could do a collage with some of the products in a category in her store and get Pinterest traffic!
Additional Resource: Canva Tutorial To Make Free and Easy Pinterest Pins For Shopify and Etsy (Includes Printable Checklist)
Pin Sources… The Fashion Spot, Etsy, Etsy
Pinterest Marketing
If you are a blogger like me, you know that coming up with 3-5 different pins for a blog post can seem overwhelming and you DO want things to look nice on your own website. But here you can see that there certain “styles” of pins that are showing up high in the search. There are plain color/illustration ones, dark background ones and then Pinterest pretty ones. doing Pinterest pretty pins has increased the traffic to my little site by something like 6,000%… zoinks!
THIS would be a great example of how to do different styled pins for a blog post. Any of these could be interchanged to test and see which did the best in Pinterest search!
Pin Sources… Tailwind, XO Sarah, Blog Pixie
Alzheimers & Dementia
One part of my baby website is an Alzheimers and Dementia Caregivers section. This is what finally opened my eyes to the amount of traffic that Pinterest could drive! Just one of my posts is bringing in over 8,000 hits a month and so I want to make more that could do even better.
I have 4 different pins for that post and two of them took off, getting shared thousands of times.
What was interesting to me about this search was how different these pins are. They are graphic, infographic and products. This is because I went WAY up the search chain to just Alzheimers rather than adding caregiving to the search. Sometimes it pays to go really broad and get some new ideas!
Pin Sources… Goldencarers, Activecareliving, Etsy
Accounting
Poor boring accounting, I use it as an example all the time because I couldn’t think of anything worse than being an accountant! But it does seem that there are some standard types of pins that are doing well for accountants! “Normal” blog pins are working but also spreadsheets and flowcharts are showing up… interesting.
One blog post about flowcharts or spreadsheets could have been the basis for all these pins. Don’t forget to make a variety of pin styles for every one of your posts!
Pin Sources… Thelazysource, Mybackofficecoach, Scribd
Vintage Decor
One of the hardest things about selling vintage on Etsy is the low volume of searches for old dear products. That is not a problem in Pinterest, farmhouse style and vintage decor are SUPER popular and easy to take pictures of!
Again, if you are not a blogger, just a seller you don’t have to do the first one, but for sure have some lifestyle photos for your products. Grabbing some cookbooks and sticking them in a wire basket could drive traffic to your shop for years!
Note: Because my vintage Etsy peeps sell one of a kind items, when you do your pins set the URL to one of your categories rather than the item. Because of how Etsy treats “sold” listing, you want to make sure your pins drive traffic to YOUR shop if they go viral and you sell out!
Pin Sources… Apartment Therapy, A Bowl Full of Lemons, Littlevintagenest
Real Estate Marketing
Sometimes your pin style can change search! From hearing all my Pinterest woes, you might think that I can’t make anything work on Pinterest, but my pin style has changed what Pinterest thinks is popular for real estate marketing, Two of my pin styles (the pink marketing posts one and the green postcards one are mine!) It just so happened that my ascetic matches what Pinterest likes in this one search… yay!
Read more: marketingartfully.com
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I got my haircut in November of 2016 into a semi-long pixie cut as part of a modelling job, I had a nearly shoulder length bob before that which I loved dearly, but was way too thick, so I made the decision to go bold or go home.
…I should have gone home. Needless to say I HATED it, I cried for days on end, although in fairness the hairdresser didn’t listen to my wants at all and I suppose that is the risk you take as a hair model. However, when I decided that I wanted to grow out my pixie cut to return to it’s former glory I searched the internet for other growing out journeys and tips for styling etc. I was shocked to find only 1 blogger who had documented her journey every few months and provided me with the help and support I needed.
Now 9 months later, I am here to mark the midway point of my journey and how far my hair has come.
Month 1
Lets start with the original haircut. I learnt the best way to style this entirely too short fringe was to try and pass it off as a front style fringe, It was uneven and messy but it served me well.
I would also recommend buying the Lee stafford hair growth treatment to help boost the growth in the first few months.
Month 3
By January I had embraced the side parting again and I was obsessed! I have finally learnt how to love my hair and style it in more flattering ways. I used salt spray and a little wax to create texture and volume in the fringe so it didn’t appear flat against my face.
Month 4
By February I had changed again, I started using clips to pin back my fringe to create a sleeked down look that laid flat at the front with some lift at the back, I loved this streamlined look!
Month 6
I had started using bobby pins above both my ears to fully embrace the sleek look, but was also alternating with the voluminous fringe, textured look.
It is also worth noting that throughout these 6 months I had multiple trips to the hairdressers to even out the back of my neck (this will grow into a mullet otherwise) and to trim the weight of my hair as it grows very thick. These are essential steps for growing out a short haircut! (No one wants a mullet)
Month 9
I’m still going for regular trims but my fringe has been left to grow out – for reference of how fast my hair has grown, it’s grown by about 4 inches as hair typically grows at half an inch a month. My ideal length should take another four or 5 inches so perhaps another eight or nine months, unless of course I decide to keep it short.
(Nearly) Month 10
Having fallen in love with my current length of hair, I turned my interests towards colour. Before the big haircut I had blonde highlights which I adored and my dark brownish natural colour was just not doing it for me. I was thrilled to be contacted by Mark (Find him here) from Toni & Guy Richmond. He loved my hair and my overall look and offered me to come in and talk to him about what I might want done. After a trim (to avoid the dreaded mullet) I mentioned wanting my highlights back. He referred me to Colourist @dees_colour_room She recommended a half head of highlights with different tones of white blonde to dark blonde. A week or so later I had the colour done and I love it! It’s perfect for summer and gives my pixie crop some volume and depth, you can see the results below.
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My final advice for anyone who may have come across this post who is in a similar position that I was, fed up with their short hair, wanting to grow it out but not sure how to go about it, I hope you feel less alone and remember that hair is unimportant. It will always grow and you will always have the opportunity to experiment with your hair, the most important thing is to make sure you are happy with it and that’s all that matters.
Speak Soon,
IronicJess xo
Growing out my Short Hairstyle/Pixie Cut – The Awkward Truth I got my haircut in November of 2016 into a semi-long pixie cut as part of a modelling job, I had a nearly shoulder length bob before that which I loved dearly, but was way too thick, so I made the decision to go bold or go home.
#Advice#blonde#edgy#education#Fashion#feminism#haircut#hairdresser#highlights#pixie cut#review#short hair#street fashion#street style#style#woman#women
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