#[he's my sun. he makes me shine like diamonds][ursa major]

[priincesspacificaarchive]

40) things you said when you met my parents crime au

[i’m too lazy to tag the meme anymore. i literally wanted to write some dipifica while i was one so i figured i’d get rid of these.]

This was stupid. Stupid and dangerous.

But also kind of necessary. And sad.

And maybe exciting? On a weird level. And nerve-wracking, of course.

Lioness’s gut trembles and tumbles with all the emotions spinning inside of her. Her husband reaches over the gear shift and takes her left hand, pulling it to his mouth for a brief kiss, eyes still on the road ahead. Mason always knew what she was thinking. He could mostly control it by now, but having been together so long he didn’t feel the need to when it was just the two of them. Unless she makes it blatantly obvious that he’s invading her privacy. There was always a little nudge, like he was knocking on the door to her head.

“They’re going to love you.”

“You haven’t spoken to them since you were nineteen, corazon.”

He looks over her and grins, “I know, and I know they aren’t going to like a lot of other things that we have to tell them. But they’ll be happy I’m there. And they’ll love you.”

“By penalty of death, right?” she deadpans.

He rolls his eyes and looks back to the road. “Of course not, that’s only the lackeys.”

Her hand tightens around his. “It’s nice, seeing you like this. Almost like-”

“Something about crossing the border, I guess. I feel like a kid again.”

She looks over and grins at him, squeezes his hand again. “Good.“

➢

He parks the sleek black car in front of the house, and the moderate home immediately makes her feel completely overdressed. He looks to her, eyes sweet. “You look perfect, North Star. You always do.”

Her smile is stiff now, but she nods and squeezes his hand in hers again. He pulls away from her, opens his door and steps around the front of the car to let her out. “You did tell them we were coming, didn’t you?”

“Of course.”

“Did you tell them why?”

“No.” The firm voice. He’s still getting over it himself. Of course he is. Her hand reaches out to his and holds it, he grips back tight.

They start up the front walk, eyes set on the door. Two people burst from inside, greying hair and fogging glasses in the heat. The woman is short, and what Lioness imagines Mabel would’ve grown up to look like. The man at her side is a beaming smile, something she’s seen from both twins, but he’s definitely more rugged. Like Stan.

“Mason!” The woman cries, tears already streaming down her unmade-up face as she rushes down the steps to him. Mason lets go of her hand as his mother comes faster towards him, bolting right into his chest and clinging to him. His father comes down much slower, the way he clings to the railing reminding Pacifica of how old they must be. He stops right behind his wife, hands on her shoulders as if to pry her from their son, but gently. Mrs. Pines steps back, wiping at her eyes, as Mr. Pines wraps his son in a bear hug of his own. Mason is content in these, clinging just enough for her to know this is as anticipated a moment for him as it was for them.

Mrs. Pines fixes her glasses and finally looks at her.

“Oh, my.” She tugs Mr. Pines’ sleeve. “George, look. Dipper brought a girl home.”

The old nickname does the trick, and Mason pulls away from his father and wraps an arm around her waist. He clears his throat. “Mom, call me Mason. Please.”

His mother has the decency to blush. “Of course, dear. I’m sorry. I just can’t believe my little boy is all grown up now.” She wipes at her eyes again.

Mr. Pines wraps an arm around his wife’s waist and smiles that beaming grin at her. “What’s your name, dear?”

“Pacifica Northwest.” She looks to Mason. “Well, Pines now, isn’t it then? Or maybe I’ll hyphenate.” She looks back to his parents. “It’s nice to meet you.” She reaches a hand out, and Mrs. Pines grabs it and pulls her into a hug.

“Oh it’s so nice to meet you, Pacifica! The kids told us all about you when they first came back.”

Pacifica forces an awkward giggle. “All the good first, I hope.”

George looks down at her. “Not exactly.”

She shrinks under him, pulling from Mrs. Pines to the safety of Mason’s side. Her eyes flick up to him, a dark look on his face. He clears his throat. “Not now, Dad.”

Pacifica looks back to Mrs. Pines and grins again. “No worries, Mrs. Pines. Mason’s tired from the trip.” Her hand laces with his and she squeezes, hard. A warning.

Mrs. Pines shakes her head. “Oh please, dear, call me Maggie.”

Pacifica grins. “I see why the naming theme, then.”

She shrugs. “George actually picked them, I just thought they sounded nice together.” She smiles so big her eyes wrinkle. “Your name is so unique, though. How do you get a name like Pacifica?”

Pacifica’s turn to shrug. “Your great-great grandfather founds a town in the Pacific Northwest. It’s a family name, actually.”

She looks back to Mason, who is smiling down at her like the goddess he’s carved her out to be. Her eyes flick to George, “No hard feelings. I wasn’t a nice kid.” He nods, and Pacifica’s hand on Mason tightens, asking what he’s done. Nothing he whispers in her head, but she doesn’t believe him. Fine. Temporary brain shut down. He’s sleeping with his eyes open. He’ll wake up in a sec.

Wake him now.

A few seconds tick by as they all look at George, Maggie curious as to what’s going on. Then George blinks and he looks around. “Sorry. Must’ve dozed off.”

Pacifica’s grin feels plastic. “No problem, George.”

Maggie waves them all towards the house, insisting they get inside before they’re all eaten alive by mosquitoes.

➢

Mason brings in their bags, only enough stuff for a couple nights. They can’t stay, they won’t. Pacifica sorts through their things, hanging up only what absolutely must be hung, separating out toiletries, and organizing things for a speedy getaway if necessary. When she’s finished, she and Mason head down to the main living area, where Maggie is sitting in a corner chair, knitting. A smaller chair is next to hers, a pile of different yarns between the two.

“So that’s where Mabel picked it up.”

Maggie shrugs, looking up from her work sheepishly. “She wanted to. We used to sit here and work on projects together.”

Pacifica smiles and nods and feels like the doll her parents always wanted to build her into. The thought makes her skin crawl.

George is seated in a Lay-Z-Boy, eyes on the Wheel of Fortune episode playing. “Got this one figured out yet, son?” He asks, pointing to the puzzle on-screen as she and Mason take seats on the couch between the two. Pacifica sits closest to George, in case Mason loses his cool again. He leans over to her over the arm of the Lay-Z-Boy. “Lil Mase here used to solve these puzzles faster than anyone I knew.”

Pacifica looks back at the puzzle, only a few letters out.

“Abraham and Mary Todd Lincoln,” Mason says, eyes never straying from the TV. A few minutes later the puzzle is finished. Mason was right.

George taps her shoulder and winks at her. “Told you.”

Maggie puts down her knitting, then nods at George. George shuts off the TV with the remote.

Mason takes a deep breath.

It’s time.

Maggie is still smiling so brightly and George is still basking in the glow of a re-ignition in his son. It feels wrong to tell them now.

Maggie looks right at Mason. “We’re so glad you’re home, Mason. Even if you came back just to say hi we’d be overjoyed.” She looks down at her knitting needles, fiddles with them. Nervous tic. Then looks back up at her son. “And we’re so happy to meet your wife, Pacifica. But you said on the phone that there were some things you needed to tell us?”

Mason nods, clears his throat again. He’d been planning what he’d say for days, and now Pacifica straightens his shirt collar, trying oh-so-subtly to remind him she was here. Mason nods. “Yeah. Mom, Dad. Things aren’t good up in Gravity Falls.”

George shakes his head. “We know, son. We’ve seen some footage about gang activity. Are you and Mabel safe?”

Mason shakes his head. “That’s what I came to tell, you, actually. Mabel’s missing. She has been for a long time. She was involved with something not quite right last I saw her. She and her partner have disappeared. We haven’t been able to find or contact her. We presume she’s dead.”

Maggie gasps, loud and just as motherly as Pacifica expected, but George’s reaction surprises her. He curls into himself, she thinks she hears sobs. She knew this wouldn’t go well, knew there’d be extreme emotions, but this was getting to be too much. Her empathy was spiked so high she felt sick. Mason places a hand on her thigh, warm and reassuring. She reaches a hand out to George and it hovers right over his shoulder. She’s scared to physically touch him while he’s like this. Scared of his reaction or what would happen if she caught more of his emotion than she already had.

“We wanted to tell you in person,” Pacifica says, her throat raw, tears clawing at her eyes. There’s a shine to Mason’s as well, but nothing falls from either of them. “We’ve alerted who we could, but because of what we’re scared she was involved with, we didn’t want to alarm them and have them go after her, or worse, spook her further and have her get even further away. We have who we can looking for her, any trace of her. We’re doing all we can.” And it was true, Mabel was known in town for disappearing and reappearing in grand ways, but since she’d been off the radar for months, Mason got worried. He ordered lackeys to be on the lookout for her, contacted those on her side, pleading as a concerned twin brother. Her disappearance has wrecked him further than he’d let anyone see. Not even she had seen the full extent of how he was handling this one.

She rests a hand over his, squeezing comfortingly.

The parents are consoled briefly, and then excuse themselves to their bedroom for the evening. Mason turns his hand to lace their fingers. “Come on, I wanna show you something.”

➢

He leads them up the stairs, past their guest room, to a pair of doors at the end of the hall. Mason’s nickname in black on a blue door. Mabel’s in rainbow colors and glitter on a pink one, the letters haphazard, while Mason’s are neat, almost blocky.

“Your old rooms?”

“Figured they’d have moved them around by now, but the doors don’t even seem touched.” He runs two fingers over the doorknob on his old door and examines them. No dust. He shakes himself out, then grabs the knob fully and opens the door. “I got to see your room. A lot, even. It’s only fair I let you see mine once.”

Pacifica steps through the doorway, and she feels twelve and haughty and on-top-of-the-world again. It’s like feeling the kid that Mason left behind. The walls are blue, the same blue as the door, a conspiracy board over his desk off to her left, his bed straight across the room. There’s a bookshelf, with mystery books and conspiracy theories and school trophies. Science club. She steps further into the room, hands gently running over anything she can reach. Mason flips off the lights, the glow-in-the-dark stars on his ceiling still have some green to them. He flips them back on, then walks over to her, hands on her hips, pulling her to him. He presses a soft kiss to her forehead. “Thank you. For doing this. For taking this journey with me.”

“I love you,” she responds simply, blue eyes glowing in the moonlight coming through the window. “I’ll follow you anywhere.”

“Even when I go places you can’t follow?”

“If you mean your head, I can get in there pretty easy. But if you mean a public bathroom…” she trails off with a bright grin, feeling like a teenager with him again.

He laughs, soft but genuine. He presses his forehead to hers, and she shifts, leaning up to kiss his birthmark.

[priincesspacificaarchive]

2) things you said through your teeth *crime au

ALL THE THINGS SHE SAID (RUNNING THROUGH MY HEAD)||ACCEPTING

The Lioness circles, as lionesses do. But this is not mere prey she’s nearly stalking, it’s her own husband. He sits at his desk, with his paperwork and his plans and here she is, neglected. Ever since his sister went back into hiding he’s been inconsolable and more restless than she’d known him to ever be. Now she steps over the line she’d traced, closer to his personal space. She’s behind his chair, eyes drawn to the tight muscles in his neck, the stress in his shoulders. Her hands reach out and she squeezes, gently, pushing the stress from the strained muscles as she lowers her head so her lips meet his ear. “You look so stressed, mi amor. Come and take a break.” Her lips barely part, teeth not even separating as she speaks through them.

Major turns his head to her slightly, but she feels him relax under her continued massage. “A break?” His tone is almost sharp and she pulls away, scathed, stepping back over the line she’d crossed. He spins in his chair and pulls himself from it, nearly towering over her. His face doesn’t break, but the glint in his eye, that all of it was for her, has her drawing close to him again. He gestures to his desk. “I have so much work to do, I don’t even know where to start.”

A wicked grin stretches on her lips and she pulls herself flush to him, tilting her head with an angle and a look to her eyes that feigns innocence. Her fingers lock gently around his tie and she pulls her face closer to his, eyes meeting his. “How about starting with me?”

The next minute is dizzying, the sound of scattered papers, the twirl of colors as the world spins when he picks her up and places her on his desk. Her grin grows wicked again as he looks longingly down at her, waiting for her command. Just as he got to dictate when he was in the mood for her games, she got to dictate just how they went. She was his queen as much as he was her king. A pair of equals both so in love with one another it was either sad or sickening. If you weren’t them, anyways. With a flick of her eyes from him to the floor he knows what she wants. He’s on his knees before her sooner than she can blink, his long fingers drifting gently over her bared knees and further up. He looks up at her now, brown eyes just a shade more hesitant, a spark of the boy that used to live there. A slight nod from her, just a tint of fear in her own eyes. Be careful with me, she still seems to say all these years later. The reply in his eyes every time was, Always. Before he’s off he leans up to her, presses a gentle kiss against her lips. A reminder that despite it all he loves her. She kisses him back just barely, a soft confirmation she loves him no less than she had a moment, a day, a week ago. No less than the day of their vows, than the many days before that, than even all the way back to his stupid fourteen-year-old self on her front doorstep.

“I love you.” The words are a groan as she digs her heels harder into his back, head thrown back in pleasure, mere moments later. She didn’t have to say them out loud very often, but she liked to when he was like this. When he was using her to forget what his life had become. She didn’t feel used, so maybe that’s the wrong word. He loses himself in satisfying her, and she loses herself in letting him do it, becoming intoxicated by his body and his movements alone. It’s always so easy to forget the tragic life they lead when they get so wrapped up in each other this way.

[priincesspacificaarchive]

Music booms across the hall as people who don't mean a thing to him move from room to room. Her birthday had always been an event, a loving gesture from husband to wife & the briefest attempts at good press. (It has always been her idea, not his, since she was a Northwest, after all) & he finally finds her among a sea of people, taking a break & fixing her hair when looking at herself in the mirror. He sneaks up behind her, kissing the back of her neck. "You're more beautiful each year." crimeau

The party to celebrate her birthday is one of the few times a year she gets to pretend. Pretend that everything is fine. That her parents’ sudden disappearance from Gravity Falls was an early retirement. That she and her husband didn’t dastardly plot the downfall of the South. That her husband wasn’t a criminal she’d been sucked into hell with.

She loves Mason, her heart practically beats for him and him alone. But she didn’t want to be a bird in a gilded cage, she was tired of being a recluse to keep them from being found out, to keep them from the inevitable. Every year she feels herself grow wearier with the weight of it.The party is another act, it feels like all she does is change faces. Maybe Mason sees the truer versions of herself than anyone else, but even he can’t see and understand every part of her. It tears at her heart to think of it that way. But it’s the truth. The closest she’d ever felt to someone understanding every part of her was a brother that had been gone for far too long. Her heart aches for him on this day.

Now, in a moment of quiet, he finds her. Kisses her and holds her and tells her she’s beautiful. She smiles in the mirror, meeting his eyes with a sadness swimming in the blue of her own. “Thank you, mi corazon. I’ve been having a lovely time.” A pointless lie, one thinner than sheet paper, but she still wonders if he’ll see it. The twelve-year-old boy he used to be is one she’s thought about a lot lately. She wonders desperately if she’d have loved him this much, if he’d have loved her. If maybe, in another time, another world, they wouldn’t have to pretend so much. If loving him there hurt her as much as loving him here could.

She misses the maybe they could’ve had if it had all gone differently.

Mason is the one she’d die for, Dipper is someone she’d give her life to save. She’d give this entire future and world she’d built with Mason if she could save the boy he used to be. With adventure and spite in his veins, but a kindness in his heart she’d never seen in anyone else. Mason was still as adventuring and spiteful, but the kindness for anyone but her had shriveled up long ago, and his kindness to her felt almost conditional. If she hadn’t accepted him when they were teens, would he be spiteful to her, too?

Why didn’t she run after Mabel killed Robbie? Why hadn’t she left before it was too late?

You wanted to salvage him, save what you could. A quiet voice inside her says. You thought you could at least see the boy he once was if you got to him soon enough.

She turns to him, her heart in her throat as she pulls him to her and kisses him with all the sadness and mourning she has. She misses Dipper. She wants him to know that.

“Come, mi amor, as the guest of honor I can’t be gone too long.”

[priincesspacificaarchive]

continued from here||@tiitaniumxwill​

Lioness stands a few steps behind and to his right, as always. A wine glass clutched in her right hand as she watches their new associates drive away. She grins, “He certainly seems admirable, yes.” She takes a sip from her glass as she continues to watch them. She meets his eyes and gives him a smile when he looks at her, her grin widens. “Vanessa seems lovely. And you know we could always do with new friends, love.” She reaches out and takes his hand. “Besides, they seem like good people to have in our corner.”

[priincesspacificaarchive]

[text] send me a picture and i’ll be home quicker ;) from teen!crime dipper

TEXTS FROM LAST NIGHT||ALWAYS ACCEPTING

Text to: ❤️[IMG]

If you don’t get here in five minutes you’re sleeping in the damn map room again, even IF I have a nightmare!

[priincesspacificaarchive]

One would think that Ursa Major did not celebrate Valentine's Day. Such a simple holiday invented by corporations, and yet it was the one holiday he could celebrate & focus fully, completely and wholly on his wife. He did not take meetings or calls on this day, fully & completely focusing on the Lioness before him. Through the middle of their candlelit dinner he takes a pair of handcuffs in his hands. " Whose turn is it to wear these?" A wolfish grin. His wife the only one to see him so playful.

Normally she didn’t expect much from Major on Valentine’s Day, he really only took her birthday off.  The candlelit dinner had been enough, but to see his wolfish grin back on his face meant more than he knew. It had been too long since he’d looked at her like that. She gives a seductive smile of her own, leans over to play with one of the cuffs as she does so. “Mmm,” she murmurs, blue eyes flicking up to meet his with a devilish glint. “I think it’s my turn .” A payment for him finally letting loose a little, his gift for Valentine's Day.

[priincesspacificaarchive]

belle + teen/crime au???

TALE AS OLD AS TIME||NOT ACCEPTING

belle — for whatever reason , your muse has to live with mine. my muse is trying to make it comfortable for yours … too bad they’re pretty bad at it

Pacifica curls her hands into fists, fighting with every breath to keep the pageant smile on her face. “Dipper Pines, welcome to our home.” Yes she’d purposefully used his childhood nickname, and yes her father had deigned it proper for her to invite him in, and yes she was currently considering clawing his throat out, but hey. What could an heiress do? She waves a short, stout blond woman from the corner. “This is Angela, she’ll be your maid during your stay.” She waves a man over, also stout, but taller than she. “This is Arthur, he’ll be your butler. They’ll do everything they can to make you as comfortable here as possible.”

She’s just walking away, her job done, until he calls after her. “What about you?” There’s a smirk plastered over his face, as fake as he once thought her hair to be. “Are you going to help me feel comfortable here, Pacifica?”

She grits her teeth, curls hands into fists again. “No.” The single word is sharp and pitched. Not at all as cold as she would’ve liked it to be. “I will not. Dinner is at seven, semi-formal attire required, I trust you have something suitable. If not, Arthur and Angela will figure something out for you.” She sticks her nose in the air and stiffly walks away.

[priincesspacificaarchive]

POSSESIVE MEME. [Crime AU] Brown eyes narrow on the girl with the venemous stare, that drink after drink teased him as the lights of the nightclub dimmed low and menacing. /Catch me if you can,/ Her stare spoke as a cat's grin adorned her face. Now she's waitng at a bar-- another pathetic man at her beck and call. Disgusting. "Back off," He growls, yanking said man by his elbow and throwing him away. "She's /taken/."

SPRING CLEANING OUT MY ASKS||@tiitaniumxwill

Another night accompanying Major to work, another night of playing hide and seek. Another night of simply drinking at the bar while men approached, anxious eyes hiding behind the confident bravado. She always gives a small smile, sips her drink, then lets her eyes freeze over and cranks her intimidation level up to an eight.

This one was being particularly difficult to get rid of. He kept talking, she kept drinking. Then she sees Major from the corner of her eye, smiles like a cat, gives him her ‘come and find me’ eyes. The man doesn’t seem to notice. She slips from her stool, sets her drink down, and stands too close to the man. This is, of course, on purpose. It’s all part of their game. Then his hand come up, softly reaches for her waist-

Ursa Major explodes out of nowhere, pulling the man away from her. She links her arm through his, turns the intimidation glare to a full ten, and says in her most even voice. “I was giving all the signs, Robert. I needed you to go away. You didn’t listen.” She turns to Major, wrapping her other hand around his arm and leaning up to kiss him on the cheek. For the brief moment she’s looking at Major her features grow soft, a small smile gracing her lips. “So I had to call in backup.” She turns her gaze back to the man, the glare settling back in like it had never left. “No one touches me unless I say so.”

She and Major quickly exit, and she can barely wait until they’re in the back of the car before she’s pulling at his hair and kissing him, somehow it all feeling rough and soft at the same time. Possessive but worried. Things only Major makes her feel. She’s giving as much as she gets, kissing him feverishly and like she never wants to stop.

She ends up on his lap, pulling away slowly. Her lips are swollen, and she gently bumps her’s against his, blue eyes hooded and lustful. “If you don’t get me home for us to finish this in five minutes, we won’t be finishing this tonight.” Her breathing is heavy, but the bluff hits hard and before she knows it lackey Archibald is racing them home. Running a red light is little compared to all the other things these lackeys do for her lover.

Major lets out a little growl, voice husky and low as he cups her face in his hands, fingers threading through her hair. “Anything for you, North Star.” He captures her in another kiss that makes her dizzy, makes her feel like she’s just on the edge and a single breath can make her fall. She drags fingernails over his face, drags fingers through his hair. Fights off the whimper that builds in her chest with every bump that jostles him closer. She wants him, she wants him, she wants him. Wants him closer, wants him now.

They park around back and Major carries her from the car, up to their room, lackeys giving them space as they move through the house. She still cups his face in her hands, and the only time his lustful eyes leave hers is when he’s checking to make sure they don’t run into anything.

He lays her on the bed, her locks splayed out like a halo, and starts to remove his jacket.

She checks her watch, smiles like a cat, “Four minutes and fifty-eight seconds.” She sits and grabs him by his belt loops. “Ven y tómame, mi amor.”

[priincesspacificaarchive]

continued from here||@tiitaniumxwill​

“Shameful of him, really. You think he’d remember that dancing with my mother was the beginning of their little story.” She scoffs at his comment when she draws him to her, clasping his free hand in her’s and settling her other hand on his shoulder. “So, Dipshit, do you need me to lead, too? Surely there must be some idea of how this works in that head of yours. It used to be so full of smarts, after all.”

[priincesspacificaarchive]

continued from here||@tiitaniumxwill​

“You should know me well enough by now, Mason.” She grits her teeth, holding back the words she wants to scream. “I like having friends. The lackies don’t count, I’m married to you, and Helga...is Helga.” She swings herself down from the desk, stomping to his side and downing her own glass of scotch. “So if you’re jealous just tell me. I mean god Mason! I married you. I became a criminal for you! I have given you everything. Command over my life, hiring me a bodyguard, what more do you want?” She understands why he calls her North Star, now. Before she thought it was because she was his guiding light, and under normal circumstances it’s true. But now there’s another meaning. The North Star burned brightest of all, and though surrounded by other stars they couldn’t compete. It left it isolated and lonely and she’s so tired of pacing the mansion all day. Of rechecking Mason’s paperwork. Of all the mindless things she did all day, just waiting for when the only human being she can interact with normally returns. She loves her husband, and maybe if it weren’t for the sudden loneliness inside, the kind that spread inside her like an empty cavern and echoed her fears back to her, he alone would be enough. But now she’s had a taste of friendship she hasn’t felt since she was twelve years old. Before she ran, before they’re worlds all shattered around them. And even now she was here. Between she and Mason. As palpable as if she stood in flesh before them. Mabel Pines had snuck her way in, and after leaving the first time she never learned her lesson not to do it again. She stood here, separating them, as she had for months since he last saw her. And her heart aches for him. But then it steels itself and holds no sympathy. Because Mason had long stopped coming to bed when he said he would, and he didn’t seem to care. “I mean, you don’t see me getting upset about Wendy.” She does not regret the words out of her mouth, because Wendy was no different than Arnold in her eyes. Caught in the crossfire between warring siblings. By bringing Helga into their crapsack world, she’d dragged the reporter with her. Arnold was a deep in as any of them now. “So if I happen to invite him over, there will be no arguments. Or I will leave.” And it tears at her to think of leaving after everything they’ve been through. Kills her to think of leaving him with no one. But she can’t take this anymore she can’t. She feels like falling to her knees and bursting into tears at it all, but she stays standing, glaring down at him. Weakness cannot be shown. She isn’t weak anymore.

[priincesspacificaarchive]

continued from here||@tiitaniumxwill

She knows he expects her to scoff and walk away, but instead she smirks, “I’m sure there is, Mason,” and she sneers on his name, knowing without a shadow of a doubt that it will crack at him. Even if just a bit. She’s always fought dirty, she won’t stop because some wannabe crime lord decided to crash with her parents. “And I think normally I’d let you consider it was the throne, but let’s face it, Stan sits there now.” Okay, bringing up the dead great uncle wasn’t her best idea, but he was ticking her off and she just wanted to tan by her pool in peace dammit.

[priincesspacificaarchive]

Wed me [Crime AU]

Drabble Asks||(not CURRENTLY accepting, DC sent me SO MANY AND I MUST DO THEM ALL THE FORCE OF DIPIFICA COMPELS ME)

Leave a “Wed Me” in my ask, and I’ll write a drabble about our character under the subject of wedlock [be it my character proposing to yours, or marrying yours, feel free to specify.]

There’s no ceremony, no guests, barely what could be considered a proposal, even. Then again, she had known when she was eighteen and gave in to all of this, that this would be where they’d end up.

He slips the ring on her finger, hands as soft and gentle as they always were when it came to her. “With this ring, I thee wed.”

Their marriage was not one of law, but one of true passion and love. The rings were symbols to them, to everyone even, that they were married. Law was tricky anyways, when you were busy running Northwest Oregon’s underworld.

She takes his left hand, delicate, manicured fingers gracefully gliding the ring over his knuckles. “With this ring,” she breathes the words, standing so close to him, never having felt so deeply entwined their fates had become until now, “I thee wed.”

There’s the tilt of a smirk to his mouth, or maybe it was an actual, rare smile. “May I now kiss the bride?”

For a split second she feels like he’s someone else entirely, as if the man before her still held some of the dorky spark from his childhood. But Ursa Major was no longer the dorky, lanky child she had once picked on. Nowhere close. He was King of the North, she his Queen, he was one of the most feared crime lords in America. But that question, with that tilt of a possible smile to his mouth, it gave him a boyishness she hadn’t seen in over a decade.

When she finds her voice again, to gives the smirk back to him, just as she always has. “You may.”

The kiss he presses to her speaks nothing of the boyishness she had felt before, it was everything he had become, pain and anger and glory. He tasted like the sweetest of victories, the deepest of desires, and he kissed her as if he was either trying to store all of his passion in her, or like he wanted to suck the light from her veins. His hands find her hips as they so often have before, and her own fingers entwine themselves behind his neck. This is what love tastes like, she thinks, almost giddily as his kiss starts to burn, as he presses her until her back is to a wall. This is when she shifts from his mouth, just enough to catch her breath, arms still wrapped around his neck. She opens her eyes to see him staring at her, lust and love (she wasn’t sure which was which anymore), and maybe a tint of boyish fear in his eyes. If she looked hard enough. “Now presenting, Mr. and Mrs. Northwest-Pines.” she whispers.

[priincesspacificaarchive]

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☎️️ Mason

✖️️i can handle myself please remember that the next time you try to control Mabel’s people, dear. we both know it won’t end well for either of us✖️️do NOT go running into danger without backup again or i swear to GOD you will sleep n the map room for a month✖️️if you aren’t home in five minutes i will be sleeping and you will miss out. again.✖️️i konw u msis mable and wnedy and im srory taht u flet u hda to pcik adn cohsoe and ur porbbaly htanig urslef so jsut com e upsiatrs adn hlod me, dumbass✖️️im so sorry i scared you and im sorry he took me and im sorry im so so sorry, dear.✔️️do not threaten my body guard OR her…WHATEVER arnold is to her or mason pines you will sleep on the couch in the front room. no exceptions.