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#I’ve been thinking about this art for days
tkwrites · 2 days
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Can I Come See You? - Quinn Hughes x OFC
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gif from gabelandeskog
Title: Can I Come See You?
Author: Tory / @tkwrites 
Relationship: Pre-established: Quinn Hughes x Sarah Roberts
Summary: After a rough game, Quinn seeks out comfort from Sarah. 
Warnings: some suggestive themes, swearing, other than that, it’s 98% fluff.
Word count: 4,600
Comments: I know I’ve been teasing the family reunion snapshot for a while now, but with all the heavy emotions September brings, I just haven’t been able to finish it. When this ask came in, I started writing right away, wanting some comfort myself. I’ve loved revisiting the beginning of Quinn & Sarah’s relationship while writing this Snapshot. 
Thank you, thank you, and thank you gain for your support and love! I have found such a lovely community here, and I’m so thankful. Even in this radio silence while I’ve been slogging through my grief, everyone has been so kind and supportive.  
If you enjoyed this Snapshot, please consider commenting, reblogging, or sending in an ask about it. I love seeing what you think of Quinn & Sarah’s latest adventures.
Anonymous asked: Quinn gives cuddler energy 1000000% After a game, especially when they played bad and lost/gave up a lead. Immediately wanting Sarah cuddles to make him feel better. Do you think he ever went to hers after a game, giving Eunice a heart attack in the early days. Or did they mostly hang at his?
Can I come see you? 
A Quinn & Sarah Snapshot
If it wasn’t a Friday night, he wouldn’t have even asked. But it was, and he knew Sarah didn’t have to be up early the next day. And they’d lost. Epically. 
Midway through the third, they’d given up a three goal lead. On a power play no less. He’d, thankfully, only been on the ice for one. He didn’t know what he’d do if he’d given up more than one short handed goal in a two-minute span.
There was another game the next day, the third in four days, and he knew he really should go home and go to sleep. But Toch had canceled practice the next morning, and he was upset and feeling restless and just wanted to see her. 
It had been a long time since he’d felt this longing to be with someone and actually had someone he could go to. He called his parents, but there was still a gap there, telling him something was still missing. He wanted a more physical kind of comfort.
It was a miserable night, and Quinn thought seeing Sarah might make him feel a little better. He’d never asked her something like this. Hoping she wouldn’t mind, he fired off a text.
Sarah was in her room after the game – after an awful game – when Quinn texted. 
Can I come see you? 
Her heart leapt into her throat.
Quinn had never sent a text like this before, and she wasn't totally sure what it meant.  
He wouldn't come here to initiate comfort sex, right? That would be crazy. Her roommates were home. 
Maybe he just wanted…she had no idea what he wanted, but he'd respected every boundary she'd thrown at him so far, so she responded. Sure. Let me know when you’re here, and I’ll come let you in. 
Though they hadn’t slept together yet, she was thinking about it a lot, and they'd made out. She'd even let him take off her bra a few days before. Just thinking about that night — the reverent way he'd touched her, like she was a priceless piece of art, and the croaked, pleasured noise he’d groaned into her neck when their dry humping culminated in him coming in his pants — still made her thoughts buzz.
He asked for her address. 
She’d forgotten he’d never been to her apartment before. Not inside, at least. He’d dropped her off several times, but it was always at the end of a date, and at least one of her roommates was usually home, so it’s not like she would invite him up. Also, it seemed silly to go from his lovely penthouse to inviting him up to her little apartment. If they were going to do anything, it wouldn’t be here. 
My roommates are home, just so you know, she sent, not wanting to set unrealistic expectations. 
He reacted with a thumbs up. 
Normally, she would warn them she was having someone over, but telling Eunice Quinn was coming over would only give her more time to wind herself up. So Sarah stayed in her room until he texted that he was downstairs and slipped by her roommates without giving an explanation. 
When she opened the large glass door to her building, he was standing off to the side, hands shoved in his pockets and his head hanging forward, as if it were just a little too heavy to hold up. 
“Hey,” she said quietly, not wanting to startle him.
He still jumped a little, but when he met her eyes, he smiled — genuinely — as if he was just glad to see her. 
Her heart fluttered.
“Come on in.” Taking his hand, she pulled him into the elevator, which was, thankfully, still on the ground floor. They only went up five levels before she got off and led him down the hall, and scanned through door 538. 
Her roommates were on the couch watching an episode of Friends. 
They looked over, and one of them yelped before slapping her hand over her mouth. She continued to make muffled noise, her wide eyes darting between Quinn and Sarah. 
“This is Quinn,” Sarah introduced, though it felt perfunctory. They both knew who he was. “And this is Eunice,” she said, gesturing to her, “she’s a big fan and a little bit excitable.” 
Quinn recognized her. She was the one who screamed when he’d knocked on the glass at Sarah’s first game. Her brown hair, which was more frizz than curl, was pushed back with a headband. She was still wearing a jersey – Petey’s, thankfully – from watching the game. 
“And this is Jane.” 
She was tall and willowy, with pale eyes and a thick, dark blonde braid. 
“It’s nice to meet you,” Jane said, standing up and offering her hand to shake.
Quinn grasped it, managing to pull a smile onto one half of his mouth. 
Eunice stood and followed suit, though he got the distinct impression that were they anywhere else with anyone else, she would be asking for a hug. “I can’t believe you’re in our house right now.” Her voice actually squeaked when she said it. 
“It’s nice to meet you,” he said, not quite managing to pull full sincerity into his voice. Though he did feel it, he was too tired and too miserable to mask the disappointment. 
Eunice finally seemed to get over the shock of Quinn Hughes being in her living room. Leaning her butt on the armrest of the couch, she said, “tough break tonight.”
“Yeah,” he sighed. 
“Here, we can go in my room.” 
When Sarah’s hand slipped into his, his heart did an embarrassing little flutter. Hoping it didn’t show on his face, he followed her down the hall. 
He'd forgotten what it was like to move into a blank slate of an apartment. All the places he'd rented since moving to Vancouver were furnished, including curated, so-neutral-it-wasn’t-interesting artwork. Sarah’s apartment looked like a home - framed photos and unique paintings on the walls. 
Her room was simple. There was a full bed tucked under the window that overlooked the street and a desk. There wasn’t room for much else. A quark board above her desk was filled with photos of who he assumed was her family. Half a dozen babies with her same bright blue eyes or chocolate colored hair. He noticed the warm up puck he'd given her sitting on her desk, bracing the pages of a textbook open to an anatomical drawing of a seahorse. 
She sat on the bed. It was either the bed or her office chair, and they couldn't both fit on the chair.  
“What's up?” she asked after a minute or so of him looking around her room, his hands in his pockets. He was in his suit, a rain jacket over it against the wet, misty night, and had a knit hat pulled over his hair.
His eyes snapped to her. Something about seeing her in leggings and a loose t shirt, sitting on her blue and green patchwork quilt, made him ache. Longing bloomed in him to see her this comfortable somewhere where they could be together. Not together like this; together permanently. The thought stuck in his mind. Had he ever felt that way about someone before?
“I just wanted to see you,” he admitted, shoulders dropping.
“Oh.” The sincerity in his voice took her by surprise. The fact that he wanted to see her on a hard night sent a giddy, effervescent shiver through her. 
She patted the mattress, and relieved, he sunk down next to her. 
Sarah pulled his rain jacket off, throwing it over her office chair before asking, “this too?” as her fingers tucked under the collar of his suit coat. 
Usually, he would have shrugged it off as soon as he'd pulled away from the arena, but he'd been driving in the general direction of Yaletown, breathlessly waiting for Sarah’s reply.  
Nodding, he pushed his shoulders back so she could pull it off. 
She folded it much more deliberately than he usually did, matching the shoulders and making sure the arms were flat before draping it over his jacket. 
“You okay?” she asked, her hand traveling up and down his back. 
Her gentle touch and the sound of her voice sent a pang of relief through him. 
Experiencing Sarah sharing her emotions with him so openly somehow made it easier to reciprocate and trust she wasn't going to dismiss his or throw them back in his face later. 
He shook his head.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“I don't even want to think about it,” he said, leaning forward and raking his fingers into his hair.
Not quite sure what he meant, her hand paused on it’s journey smoothing over the soft material of his dress shirt. 
“Can we…” he glanced over at her. In the light from her desk lamp, his eyes were the color of cognac. “Can we lay down?”
Her lips pursed. It wasn’t that they hadn’t cuddled before. They had, but she still wasn’t exactly sure what it was that he wanted. 
“I just want to hold you,” he finally admitted. The vulnerability of saying it out loud knotted his stomach.
Her heart did a giddy little dance in her chest, and she barely held herself back from asking, really?  
“Sure,” she said instead, although it still came out a little breathy. “You've gotta take off your shoes, though.” 
As he toed off the sneakers, she scooted back, so she was laying nearest the window. 
He lay next to her. They stayed that way, side by side for a minute before Sarah asked, “how do you...?”
Extending his arm, he patted his side, inviting her to snuggle into him. She accepted readily, pressing her body to his. Really, he wanted her to hold him, but he felt a little too vulnerable to ask for that. 
A deep sigh let go as her hand rested on his chest. It had taken more than six months for him to feel this comfortable with June, for him to even think about asking her for comfort.  It was amazing to him that things with Sarah were so much easier. 
“What do you need?” she asked, tracing one of his buttons. 
Emotion threatened to choke his reply. Taking a moment to swallow it down, he tried to remember the last time someone had asked him that not related to improving his on-ice performance. Nothing immediately came to mind.
“Can you just talk?”
“About what?”
“Anything. Tell me about your roommates.”
“Well, Jane is a pediatric nurse. She works in the BC Children’s ER.” 
He let out a low whistle. 
“Yeah. It’s a rough gig sometimes, but she really loves it. She's actually headed to work in a few hours.”
He glanced at his watch, “at midnight?” 
“She works a lot of graveyards. 3 to 3 or midnight to noon. She coaches a youth lacrosse league on the weekends.”
“Really?” He felt Sarah nod. “My mom played lacrosse. She put all of us in it, too.” 
“Did you like it?” 
He shrugged, “I like hockey better.”
“Good thing you stuck with it, then.”
A breath of a laugh escaped through his nose.
“And Eunice is studying biomedical engineering. She’s on track to get her PhD.”
“Really?”
“Why are you so surprised?”
“I don't know,” he shrugged. “She just seems so…I mean, excitable like you said.”
“Oh, she's just dedicated to everything she does. She has a 4.0. I think it'd actually be higher if the scale didn't stop there. She does everything like that, you know? Doesn’t matter if it’s school or being a fan. She’s always 110% in. I don’t think she knows how to do anything halfway.” 
He hmm’d.
Falling into a companionable silence, Quinn sighed. He’d been looking for this his kind of comfort with another person his entire life. The first time he’d really felt it was on their first date, and it was a revelation. Each time it happened since then, it became a little less awkward. They might well be on their way to sharing the kind of quiet moments he used to see his parents have. Sitting together on the couch reading, or folding laundry together, or watching TV, just happy to be with each other. The idea of it made his chest feel buoyant enough to float away.
“How did you meet them?” 
“Eunice was advertising for someone new to move in on the school housing board. Their old roommate, Jenny, was getting married. So, I met them and saw the place, and it just worked out.” 
“Just like that?” 
“I guess?”
“I’ve never done that before.”
“What?” 
“Interviewed to be a roommate. I’ve always lived with teammates.”
“Not all of us have a built-in best friend squad.”
He snorted, and Sarah smiled. 
They eased into another quiet moment, and Quinn felt his eyelids grow heavy.
“Do you need anything?” she asked. 
“Hmm?” 
“Like, do you need anything to eat?” 
“I ate at the arena,” he said, “but I wouldn't mind something to drink.” 
As she pushed herself up and he resisted the urge to pull her back down. “What do you want? I have water, cranberry juice, or Ginger ale. I have some rum if you need something stronger, or I could make you some tea.” 
“I can't have caffeine this late. It’ll fuck up my sleep schedule.” Truth be told, it was probably already fucked just by him being here, but he didn’t want to inflict any more damage. 
She smiled, “I have peppermint, or a caffeine free maple that's really tasty as a latte.” 
“That sounds nice.”
“Okay. Do you want milk or almond milk?” 
“Almond, please.” 
“You got it.” As she crawled over him to get to the edge of the bed, she leaned down to press a gentle kiss to his lips. 
His mouth was still buzzing when she left the room. 
Eunice came into the kitchen as Sarah was filling the kettle. “What are you doing?” she whispered as if Quinn might hear them from down the hall. 
“Making tea,” Sarah said in her normal tone. 
She could tell Eunice wanted to start interrogating her and pointedly looked the other way. She’d be happy to talk, but not while he was still here. Getting Eunice started on a conversation like that required a certain amount of commitment, and Sarah wasn’t willing to rehash the night until it was over.
She stayed in the kitchen, watching Sarah start the kettle on the stove and pour milk into the frother. 
“I can bring this to you when it’s done.” 
“You’re sure?” 
“Yeah. Go be with Quinn. He looked like he needed some time with you. I’ll be in in a few.” 
“Okay.” 
As she walked back down the hall, she heard Eunice mutter something about getting Quinn to play better tomorrow.
Sarah winced, wondering if he was ever allowed to be human before being an athlete. 
Quinn looked up from his phone when Sarah came back in the room empty-handed. “No tea?” he asked, hoping his tone came off teasing. It was surprising to him she could start something and not finish it. 
Leaving the door cracked open, she got back on the bed and crawled over him, “Eunice offered to bring it in. It takes our stove ages to boil water.” 
He pulled her into him as soon as she got to his other side. As she bounced against him, she giggled, and it dissipated some of the angsty weight he’d been carrying around since the game ended. 
She snuggled up to him again, working her left arm under his back. He arched until her hand brushed his ribs.
“That’s okay?” he asked, settling back down. 
“Yeah.”
Though half of it was tied up, he threaded his fingers into the hair at the nape of her neck, then ran them through the soft strands. She made a contented little noise, so he did it again, just glad to be touching her. 
“Thank you for this,” he said, voice quiet. 
“For what?” 
“For letting me come over. For,” he moved so he could wrap his arm around her, squeezing her a little bit closer. 
“Hey, if cuddling makes you feel better, I’m always down,” she said, nuzzling her cheek into his shoulder. This kind of casual affection was what she missed most every time she broke up with all of her exes. Not to mention, she got so little physical touch being away from her family.
He chuckled, and it ended in a sigh. 
His free hand found hers, and he slotted their fingers together. 
“I really like you, Sarah.” 
“I really like you, too, Quinn,” she said, tipping her head back so she could see his face. From this angle, his nose was more pronounced. She had to resist the urge to pull her hand from his so she could run her finger down the ridge of it to feel the prominent bump. 
Sensing her stare, he turned his head, bringing their lips dangerously close. It only took a bit of stretching on Sarah’s part to bring them together. 
When he felt Sarah strain toward him again, he rolled onto his side to shorten the distance between them. Her hand stayed on his chest, and their kisses remained sweet, though the adjusted position allowed for a little more tongue, which he wasn’t mad about.
This was much softer than anything they'd done so far. It was nice to know they could just be here: not rushing to get undressed or into something more intense and physical. 
She loved this kind of lazy, slow kissing, but found it didn’t usually come until much later in a relationship, after all the first physical stuff was out of the way. To be kissing - making out without really making out - like this before they’d even had sex felt like a gift. Feeling his fingers run into her hair, bringing her face just that little bit closer to his Sarah sighed.
The way her chin moved in and out as they kissed, matching the rhythm of her tongue brushing his, lulled his body into a state of deeper relaxation than he’d felt all evening.
Pulling away just enough, she whispered, “you’re a really good kisser.” 
A zing of pleasure shivered through his brain and all the way down Quinn's spine.
 “Thanks,” he breathed, easing back to see her face. 
He gazed into her eyes for a few moments longer, trying to calm his thoughts. Once he was over the initial daze her compliment brought on, he realized he should probably say something else. Instead of blurting out the, I like being good for you, that popped into his mind, he said, “you make it easy to be.”
When she shyly thanked him as her cheeks pinked, he felt like he'd swallowed the sun. 
Unable to resist anymore, Sarah reached up to trace her finger down the bridge of his nose. “How did you break it?” 
“The first time, Jack punched me in the face in an intense game of mini sticks.”
“Mini sticks?”
“It’s like…” How did he explain this to someone who’d never played? “It’s like indoor, carpet hockey. You use these little plastic sticks and a ball, usually. We used to play in the basement. My mom talks about how we played so hard, we would shake the whole house.”
“That’s some serious competition if you’re getting your nose broken.” 
A breath of a laugh huffed out of him. “I deserved it. I was goading him on pretty bad, and he didn’t really know his own strength. I can still see the horror on his face when the blood started pouring.” 
She resumed stroking, her touch feather light and gentle, “how many times have you broken it?” 
“Three.” Quinn never thought he’d like someone touching him like this, but with Sarah, he found it comforting instead of irritating. It was like she just wanted to know every part of him. “The other two were pucks to the face.”
She winced. “That sounds painful. Those pucks are way heavier than I thought.” 
“It’s not fun,” he said. “Thankfully, the adrenaline is still pumping, so it doesn’t really hurt until after the game is over.” 
“You kept playing with a broken nose?” 
Nodding, he laughed, “they strap on a full face shield, and send you back out there.” 
An incredulous, protective look took over her face that Quinn instantly loved. 
“Don’t worry. They do concussion testing and reset it if it needs it before.” 
“That’s just…really?” 
He nodded.
“I keep seeing all these memes about how tough hockey players are, and I always thought they were kind of exaggerated.” 
“It’s a tough sport,” he said. “My goal is always to be swift enough on my feet to not get involved with the harsh stuff, but sometimes a puck just redirects, and bam, your nose is broken again.” 
The kettle whistled. 
As if by an unspoken rule, they pulled back from each other. Sarah’s hand dropped back to his chest. 
A minute later, Eunice gently hipped open Sarah's door, carrying a tray with two steaming mugs and the whole milk frothing machine. “I figured it would be easier for you to froth in here,” she said, setting the tray down on Sarah's desk. 
As she backed out of the room, she widened her eyes and quirked her brows a few times, giving Sarah a look that plainly said, you have a cute, famous boy in your bed, and we're going to discuss everything as soon as he’s gone. 
“Thanks, Eunice,” Sarah said through a tight smile, hoping Quinn hadn’t seen. 
“Sure thing,” she said before softly clicking the door shut.
“I don’t think I’ve ever had a tea latte,” Quinn said as he rolled onto his back so Sarah could crawl over him again. The urge to pull her on top of him by her hips was so strong that he had to curl his fingers into the quilt. 
“Really?” she asked, plugging the frother into the outlet by her nightstand. 
He shrugged. 
The machine whirred to life.
“It’s good. I like it at night. The warm milk kind of puts me to sleep.” 
When it was done, she divided the creamy concoction into the two mugs and brought one to Quinn. 
“This is okay?” he asked, gesturing to the bed. 
“Yeah.” There wasn’t anywhere else they could go. If he spilled tea on her sheets, she’d just have him help her change them. 
Sarah sat opposite him, knees bent, her bare feet between his socked ones. 
Their eyes met over their mugs, and Quinn smiled. “This is really good, thank you,” he said, gently tapping her leg with his toe. 
“You’re welcome. I’m glad you came over.” 
“Are you still up for the game tomorrow?” 
“Yeah,” she said. “I’m planning on it.”
“And you’ll stay so I can take you home?”
She nodded. “Are you flying out again after that?”
He sighed, “yeah. On Sunday. We fly out to Dallas, play them on Monday, and then go to Colorado to play on Wednesday, and then I’ll be home for a week on Thursday afternoon.”
“I’m glad it’s not too long this time.”
“Me too.” A yawn split his face. He apologized, holding a fist over his mouth.
Shaking her head, Sarah said, “you’ve had a long day.”
“Yeah,” he agreed, downing the rest of the tea. “I should probably get home and get to sleep.”
While he pulled on his sneakers, Sarah set her latte aside and slipped on some sandals. 
Rain was pounding against the glass fronted lobby when they got downstairs. Looking down at herself, Sarah said, “I’d walk you to your car, but I’m not really dressed for it.”
Half of his mouth lifted in an indulgent smile, “that’s okay.” Gathering her against him, he breathed in the smokey smell of her perfume to fortify himself for the dash into the rain and the drive home. “Thank you again.”
Her hands slid under his suit coat, pulling him more tightly against her, “you’re welcome. I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said, pulling back to look into his face. 
“Tomorrow,” he agreed, leaning down to kiss her. They were in public, so he knew he shouldn’t linger, but he did anyway, savoring her mouth as the last thing he’d taste that night. 
“Let me know when you get home, yeah?” she asked when they parted. 
He nodded, and she watched him jog away before heading back upstairs. 
Eunice was waiting in the entryway for her and immediately grabbed her hand. “Tell us everything,” she said, excitedly pulling Sarah down the hall to the bathroom where Jane was re-braiding her hair for work. 
Before she sat in the hallway outside the bathroom, Sarah got her unfinished tea. As she sipped, she explained how he ended up there. 
Both women awed when she recounted Quinn telling her he just wanted to hold her. Eunice broke in when Sarah got to the part about making tea.
“Jane, it was so cute. I walked by, and they’re cuddling. Then, when I came back, they were kissing. Like that soft movie kind of kissing - it looked so dreamy. Then when I walked by again –” 
“Why were you walking by so much?” Sarah demanded. 
Eunice didn't even blush, “I had to get my blanket.”
“And it took you two trips to do it?” 
“I forgot what I was getting the first time and had to come back to the living room to remember.” 
“Right,” Sarah deadpanned. 
“Anyway,” she said in an over-exaggerated tone, “when I walked by again, she was petting his nose.”
“Oh my god,” Sarah exclaimed, “I am never bringing him over here again. He’s going to think you’re some kind of psychopathic stocker for walking by all the time.”
“Oh, he had no idea I was even there,” Eunice said. “He was way too busy longingly gazing at you, Ms. Roberts. I don’t think he would have even noticed me if I was stomping down the hall like a t-rex.”
“He was pretty enraptured,” Jane said. 
“You too?” 
“I had to go to the bathroom. Mine was legitimate.”
“Oh my fucking hell,” Sarah moaned. 
“Why were you touching his nose?” 
“I asked him how he broke it.” Sarah smiled at the floor. “And I like his nose.”
Eunice snorted, “of course you do.” 
Cutting off Sarah’s incredulous look, Jane asked, “what was the best part?”
All of it, she wanted to say. The fact that he came over at all. That he just wanted to cuddle, the kissing… 
“He was really sweet. I told him he was a good kisser and he just looked into my eyes for a while before he goes, ‘you make it easy to be.’” 
“Oh my gosh,” Jane gushed, “really? That is such a good answer.”
“Will you just fuck him already?” 
Sarah let out a surprised cough, and Eunice continued, “I think he’s proven he’s not just in it for the sex.”
“I think I knew that from the start.”
“So why are you waiting so long to jump him?” 
“Eunice,” Jane admonished, “Sarah can take however long she likes to take that step.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Eunice said dismissively, flapping her hands, “I just want to know what he’s like in bed.”
“Oh my god,” Sarah said, dropping her head into her hands. “I am never discussing my sex life with you.”
“Yes you will.” 
“No. I won't.” 
“You will,” Eunice said with a quirk of her brows. “You've told us everything else so far. I don't think you'll be able to resist.”
“You’re unhinged, you know that?” 
“That’s why you love me.”
Laughing, Sarah had to admit she was right.  
Want more Quinn & Sarah? Check out the Snapshots Masterlist
To read all my fics, check out the Fanfiction Masterlist
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loui3e · 13 hours
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Guilty Pleasure
It’s been awhile since you’ve turned up the dial’
Worst!Logan x Reader
Summary: After a first date gone wrong Logan finally confesses the truth.
A/n: I might make a smutty part 2 if you all enjoy this. Has been proofread.
Warnings: A sprinkle of angst, miscommunication (I know), all is solved in the end. Kinda suggestive.
Words: 795
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First dates are odd things.
Scary even, especially with a man who you think doesn’t want a bit to do with you.
You’re convinced Wade put him up to this because there’s a scowl permanently etched into his facial features.
You won’t let this get you down though, I mean you’re still on a date with a man that you’ve had a massive crush on since he’s moved in next door. Better than nothing you suppose.
You sip your milkshake, your hands awkwardly tapping the table in an attempt to fill the uncomfortable silence.
“What do you do?”
Your head shoots up, eyes wide. That’s the first time he’s spoken since you’ve arrived to this diner besides telling the waiter what he wanted. His words are gruff, almost reluctant but its words nonetheless.
“Uh, what do I do? Um, art.” You stumble over your words, not use to the sound of your voice after all this quiet. Logan raises a brow from across you.
“Art?”
“Yeah, like I paint.”
“Traditionalist then?”
You chuckle and shake your head, “I guess so.” There’s a new bout of silence, a little more comfortable.
“What do you do?” You reflect the words back, a little happier than his. Shifting your plate out of the way and setting your head on your hand so your full attention is on him.
Logan wouldn’t consider himself a particular interesting person, sure he’s got some stories to tell but those are all circumstantial. But your eyes are on him; bright and curious.
You’re just a naturally curious person, but also partly crushing on him. He’s certainly handsome. You’ve seen him on the halls of your apartment complex, tall and broad. You could fantasise about him all day.
“Not much.”
Your daydream is cut short.
“Surely something?”
Logan’s fully realised he really doesn’t do a lot, now that he thinks about. He expects you to retreat back into disinterest but you don’t, you pry instead.
“Everyone has something, what’s your calling?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugs. That scowl sneaks back onto his face as he sits back against his seat arms crossed.
You think you’ve might’ve said something wrong, but not for long before the waiter comes over with the bill.
It’s not until you see him at a bar do you speak next, you haven’t really seen him since the date. “Logan,” you call as you take a seat beside him, smiling timidly.
He gives you a nod of acknowledgment. Logan feels a little bad for avoiding you after that date, but after your conversation he doesn’t quite think he’s worth your time.
“We hadn’t spoken after that date, I don’t wanna pry but did I say something wrong? I mean I know Wade put you up to this so you probably didn’t even want to go.”
“What? Wade didn’t put me up to this,” Logan speaks with hard honesty, like it was the most obvious thing in the world.
“But I thought- you looked so disinterested.” You lean in closer to him, head cocked to the side. His eyes met yours and he feels a pang of guilt.
God, he’s an idiot, it didn’t even occur to him it he looked like that. “No, not at all,” he takes a swig of whiskey before continuing. “I just, haven’t been on a date in awhile. I don’t think you’d like me much once you got to know me.”
Your jaw falls open as you look at him before you start laughing. Relief washing over your features, and partly at the thought that you wouldn’t like Logan once you got to know him.
“Logan I’ve been crushing on you since you moved in, you can’t scare me off.”
“You’d be surprised, sweetheart.” Logan places a bill down onto the table for his drink before getting up to leave. He’s trying to put up a wall between you and him.
“Logan I’m serious,” you shout after him following him out of the bar. Logan turns on his heel to face you a before you can think you’re pulling him in by the lapels of his jacket and crashing your lips against his. You pull back, stunned.
“Oh my god, I didn’t even think-“ now it’s his turn to take you by surprise because his kissing you back. Your arms wrap around his neck, his walls crumble under your touch.
He tastes like cheap whiskey and smoke. An addictive taste that you’re sure you’ll be coming back for; like a cigarette.
“I guess you were serious,” Logan chuckles, breathing heavily.
“I can show you how even more serious I am, if you come back to mine,” you grin up at him, still wrapped up in his arms and the electricity of the moment.
“I’d like that.”
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razorblade180 · 21 hours
Text
Capturing the Spark
Weiss:*peeks into music room* Summer, sweetie? I can’t help notice you’re playing the same note for like…ten minutes.
Summer: *plucking string* I’ve reach creative bankruptcy.
Weiss:You’re sixteen. There’s something in there.
Summer:Nothing good.
She points at a decently sized pile of paper on the floor. Weiss takes a look at one and realizes it’s a whole song.
Weiss:Are these originals!? Why are they on the floor!?
Summer:I don’t like how they came out. Weeks and months of revising but they feel mediocre.
Weiss:Says you. A single opinion from a creator is damning in any art form. I could’ve listened.
Summer:You would’ve been too nice and supportive.
Weiss:Summer, I told your father he looked fat in the first tux he chose for our wedding. I will never willingly let you embarrass yourself in front of people.
Summer:…There’s been talk on the radio about my recent songs and concerts. People are saying I’m losing my spark, and they aren’t wrong if I’m being honest. Things feel…different.
Weiss:Could it be because you’re getting healthy?
Summer:Pfft, now you’re making me sound ridiculous. Yes, that’s exactly it. Being on stage feels weird now that I’m not fighting for my life. Is that wrong?
Weiss:Little bit, but I get it. Your life was on the line. Adrenaline was at an all time high.
Summer:Exactly! My body was cold and hot. I had to focus on staying myself while thousands cheered my name and had zero clue I was basically on a battlefield! Now I’m just performing.
Weiss:Haha, and that’s a bad thing? It’s gonna be an adjustment but you still have that spark. You don’t need your life on the line to bring it out. You also need to treat these songs better.
Summer:Mom, they’re garbage. My fans don’t come for me for darker stuff anyways.
Weiss:They are fruits of labor. Sure not all of them will be perfect, but not every song you make will be a hit and don’t have to be. Treat these like your puppy. Don’t throw them away because they’re a little all over the place.
Summer:Where is he right now?
Weiss:Bothering Jaune. Anyways, fuck your haters.
Summer:Wow!
Weiss:I mean it! You are the singer! You can’t make people like your music but you change the audience that fills your seats. They’re called fans because they help make you burn bright.
Summer:….
Weiss:The way I see it, you can change up your style and genre to better capture and represent the raw feelings that give you the spark, or bask in the irony of a crowd that loves you, but can’t fathom the real weight of your performance.
Summer:You’ve done that too!?
Weiss:I’ve written so many songs that come from my feelings being around my abusive father and most people don’t have a clue. We may be the entertainment at a concert, but we both know how easy it is to see the crowd as the real fools.
Summer:Yet when I talk like this, therapy gets mentioned.
Weiss:Hey, I’ve been to it many times. I know exactly who I am, and you will too. One day at a time. You’re not creatively bankrupt. You’re just not cashing in all the ideas you have.
And with that nugget of wisdom, Weiss kisses her daughter on the forehead before leaving her to think on it.
Summer:(Damn it. She’s gonna feel so proud about that line.) *grabs paper*……
xxxxxx
Weiss:*walking down stairs* I’m back. How’s the puppy?
Jaune:*holding him up* Air jail. Did you solve the one note wonder?
Weiss:Yeah, but it’s gonna get louder in sec-
🎶VVVVVRRRREEEERRRRR🎶
Both of them looked up as the sound of a distorted and almost wailing guitar started singing wildly. Jaune looked at his wife to see her casually head banging with a smug face. They weren’t even sure if the notes lead to something or if their daughter was simply going for it.
Weiss:It’s been awhile since I heard a eulogy like this.
Jaune:A eulogy?
Weiss:Can’t you hear it? It’s for the death of a pop star as we know her.
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clairedaring · 2 days
Text
Compilation post of my favorite Nadao actors (Nonkul Chanon, JJ Krissanapoom, Tor Thanapob) & Bright Rapheephong giving some interview answers on why they decided to star in queer/LGBTQ+ coded series/roles, some of their takes on being in BL (Y)/Queer series.
note: if you find this post familiar, it's because i've posted this on Reddit before. reposting here for archival purposes
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TOR THANAPOB
Tor Thanapob interview in April 2023 when being asked about starring in Midnight Museum (a queer-coded GMMTV series) - (translation by infinitygraph_)
Tor: I think nowadays we should stop talking about gender. It doesn't mean that I have to act with women all the time or I can't act with men at all. I feel that I have proved to everyone that, work is work, and everything is about art. Even my team who are staying with me all the time has all kind of sexualities. It's not strange if someday we want to try telling story of other sexualities that we feel that we might be able to help them telling. If you ask me if today I am like that, today I might not, but I have a chance to understand them more, so I want to do it. Q: Is it because of the spoiler that [Midnight Museum] might be a series Y (BL)? Tor: Nothing to do with it. I tell you, sincerely, it has nothing to do with the spoiler. I just want to say that you don't have to overthink about it because nothing is fixed. Actors are actors. These days there are some award shows don't divide genders into categories anymore. I think this is a great step. Actresses also don't have to act with men all the time, they can act with women. And they both being the main characters Right. Because not all the main characters from every project have to come with the word 'love'. Even if there's 'love', there're many kinds of love. It's up to the audience what kind of feeling they have. Do they feel the same as me or they even feel more than I do? Q: So that means these days you can accept the work without any limit about what you are, which genders... Everything is about the story/script-writing? Tor: Right. I admit that I was afraid before. I wasn't afraid about my image, I was afraid that I would tell the story without understanding it, because I didn't have any experience at all. But at some point I found the chance to be more open-minded, brave to act it out all the way, such as Midnight Museum...
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Tor's Vogue Interview in February 2024 on Spare Me Your Mercy as another important milestone as an actor (all translation by saltymarbles on twitter)
Tor: As for Euthanasia, I’ve been interested in it just from its name. If we were to go back in time to the period of the Prime Ministerial elections last year, there was some talk regarding the laws about euthanasia. As such, I know the meaning of it but if I had to explain it, I wouldn’t dare to because I don’t know that deeply about it. Tor: Up to the day that this drama happens, the owner of this project told me he wanted to set this question before anything changed in society: ‘Actually, are humans capable of choosing their death?’. Tor: This question shot through the core of my brain and immediately, i was like: ‘I need to tell this story’. And the role that he hoped to give me also served that function too. It’s a character which sets up the question of ‘what is right?’.(t/n: "this question" likely refers to a more philosophical kind of question regarding morality which asks what does being ‘correct’ mean — what is ‘objective morality’ (if it exists)) Tor: Do the people who are really suffering have the right to ask to leave? (t/n: "leave" is just a polite way of saying die (Thai people usually don’t use directly use the word die when talking about humans, usually use a more polite way like how we say ‘passed away’ or ‘xyz has left us’) Tor: Thus I decided to play along with knowing that the timeline of Euthanasia will remain with one in a hundred (people), so I like shades of the polar opposite. If the first story is navy blue, the other will be red — not close at all.
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NONKUL CHANON
Nonkul's response to the question “If you have a chance, would you consider playing in a BL series? If accepted, who do you to co-act with?” in a Facebook Q&A video in 2021
Nonkul: If that series is an interesting storyline for me, I am always open to any kind of genre. I never categorized BL series as an BL series, I just think of it as a series with another plot as part of my work. It is a normal series that can have any of the plots which I will categorize as Romantic Comedy, Drama or whatever. Thus, when I choose the BL series I want to work with, the love preference of the character does not affect my decision. If the plot of the series is interesting, of course I’m gonna do it for sure. Every work that I chose, I personally think it at least enjoyable for me. Of course, if in the future, there are BL series with plots that I find interesting, that I enjoyed the script. “Like, wow, that’s my type!”, I will definitely selected it to be my future project. A good written series is a good series. This is what I believe as an actor. For BL Series, I think I can work with everyone. I don’t think I have anyone in particular. One thing! I desire the character of that person/actor? to be close to the character in the series. At that point I will be satisfied. Sometimes, I as an actor have a chance to work with people who don't have a lot of acting experience. I will still discover something new from him as well. And there is a BL novel which I really like! [Nonkul explains the plot of his favorite BL Novel ‘Peremo’] I would prefer to choose the “heroine” role because it will be a new experience for me as an actor because it will be a new experience for me as an actor. Because basically I only play as a hero role for the main character or support character in my work, but a “heroine” role in a BL series is the only chance for me to play a character more feminine. So it is a new experience for me. [Nonkul continues raving about 'Peremo’]. But if you think that you can make [an adaptation of Peremo], please do not forget me, Nonkul! Pleaseeeeeeee, I will do my best, I promise!!! However, I’m not only fixated on this novel. I’m also open for many more BL series if there is an interesting plot.
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Nonkul's response to being ask if he's worried about filming NC scenes in IFYLITA (translation by saltymarbles)
Nonkul: I have to say when I had finished reading [the novel] and it’s made me want to act (in this series). I am probably worried more about the CG because if it’s a fantasy story with time travel, if the CG isn’t good, people will feel that it’s ‘off’. Because CG is something we don’t know anything about until we see the final product. One of the reasons that I accepted this role is because for some series, when I’ve read (the script/novel) for homework, I don’t accept them because there are some scenes that are forced in just for the sake of fan service. And I’m not really into that. If it’s a natural NC scene, then I’m not bothered. I’m a person who places a lot of importance on the story in series making sense. So to me, if an NC scene is reasonable, I won’t be bothered by it. But if it seems forced, I’m not into it. It’s important to show human-ness.
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Two clips of Nonkul being asked what he thinks about doing NC scenes in IFYLITA (Clip 1 and Clip 2). Nonkul said that he places great importance on the character's actions. If an NC scene is reasonable he wouldn't mind but would if it's not reasonable. For Nonkul, understanding character is very important, especially for himself as an actor. Nonkul also said previously he had rejected some BL series offers because he can feel when NC scenes are put in just for fan service, which is also a reason why Nonkul accepted to play Jom in IFYLITA is because the love scenes are natural and make sense.
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JJ KRISSANAPOOM aka JAYLERR
JJ's interview in February 2024 on Spare Me Your Mercy and his chemistry with Tor (translation by saltymarbles)
JJ: The pilot of ‘Euthanasia’ has been received well since the novel has many fans already who are excited about it. JJ & Tor are similarly excited and are committed to doing their best. The chemistry between Tor & JJ need not be questioned according to JJ since they are already close with each other. The series is in the phase of pre-production currently.
One of my favorite fictional characters of ALL TIME (not just in Thai or BL series) has got to be Tangmo from Great Men Academy (2019) (the series that a lot of BL audience refused to admit it's a queer series). The character Tangmo (played by Jaylerr) was questioned by the press about his gay crush on the protagonist: "Do you think being gay affect your chance of winning the competition?" to which his reply was a stellar "Well then let me ask you something, Does being gay make my good deeds meaningless?"
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This isn't the first time JJ has played a queer role, JJ has played a gay character in TWO seasons of the LGBTQ+ series Diary of Tootsies (2016 and 2017). JJ plays Gus, the love interest of the main character.
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So even though many BL fans consider Spare Me Your Mercy to be JJ's "first" BL series (which I don't agree with this strict interpretation of BL series), it is definitely not his first QL (Queer Love) series nor queer-adjacent roles as shown through out his filmography.
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It is also noteworthy that even during the airing of these series, JJ was already in a public relationship with his fellow actress girlfriend Thanaerng (who has also played sapphic roles). You can see that the real life relationship of JJ or Thanaerng do not influence how/what projects they take on because work is just work :D
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BRIGHT RAPHEEPHONG (all translation by saltymarbles on twitter)
Bright at Mono29 Lineup event
Bright: I think that, as I’ve previously said, BL series are just like other ordinary series or movies. Like IFYLITA can be changed to be said to be more like a period drama. I feel that BL is just about two people loving each other, not about whether it’s about male-male or female-male. This series is a period drama and it’s a romantic comedy and the other series is an action drama.
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Bright's Interview with LIPS Magazine
Q: What if one day, we’re sucked in by the ship? Bright: I think fans in this day and age don’t need actors to do fan service to that extent. For myself, I’ve never intended for it to be the foundation (of his work). I think it’s a matter of being partners and working together. As such, it’s somewhat good in every aspect because it’s not forcing it. But in some moments, there may some actions that may just be the result of being friends. So even if fans ship, it’s cute to me. (smiles) Q: Do you feel a sense of “newness” stepping into a full-fledged BL? Bright: I feel that BL series are another branch of acting. I don’t think of it as being a specific form of male to male communication. It’s just another type of series just like action dramas, comedy etc, it’s just another kind of role that we can play.
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Bright's Interview with Praew Magazine
Q: How is it working with Nonkul? Bright: Nonkul is a person who already does a good job at his work. He does his homework and he is also good at delivering and receiving emotions when on set. It isn’t just Nonkul who is great but the other characters in this series too, this includes P’Tee, the director. We can always talk about ideas which made the work even better. If asked whether entering the scenes with Nonkul made me shy, I would say that BL series are just another branch (of acting), it is just another role. I don't think that when acting with another man, that there’s a need to feel anything. I feel that it’s just another form of work. Another thing is that our workshops were very complete. When we work together I know what level and extent I can go to, what I should do and also trying my best in how I should feel. Thus, I felt at ease working together.
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Bright’s Interview with NineEntertain
Q: Are you happy to do “ship” activities like this? Bright: I feel that if there’s an opportunity with regards to being an actor, I don’t want to be stuck in ships like this. I accepted this role with the status of an actor and I want to accept various roles too. It doesn’t always need to be BL or a specific kind of series. I will have another series next year which is ordinary boy-girl relationship and not a BL series. I feel that BL series are just another category of series — not like BL series are just BL series. It’s another category like action, romcom, or drama. It’s just another category. Q: There is still the possibility of coming to act as per usual. (unclear of what the interviewer said) Bright: I feel that with every work opportunity, it’s more about the script and storyline of the work that I were to accept. For example, I accepted the role of Khun Yai in IFYLITA as i felt that it was a script that was suitable for me. I didn’t think of it as “oh it’s a BL series, I need to accept it” because to be honest, I have been contacted for various BL series but because [IFYLITA] storyline is really good, I wanted to try acting in it. Q: What is the difficulty of acting in BL as an actor? Bright: I feel like there isn’t any difference compared to regular series. I feel that when two men love each other or kiss, I don’t think of it as (me and) a man, I think of it more as each of the characters or persons. Q: Does that affect the trend of being a ship? Bright: Hmm… Actually I am not able to answer that because I feel like it depends on people’s perspectives. Because some people may prefer that (an actor) has a (onscreen) gf/bf but some people may be upset about it. I feel like the trend depends on the people’s perspectives as people have different ways of thinking (about it). I think that I am open to listening to all different opinions on this. I feel that working (in this industry), you should be able to explore different things and you should not be fixed in one thing. We need to continue moving onto the next thing. I feel that Non has his own work and I also have my own work, and other actors too have their own upcoming work. It doesn’t mean that coming to act in IFYLITA means that you stay in IFYLITA forever. Q: Some may feel that it’s sad their their ship is coming to an end and that they are gonna work with different people. Bright: Actually, there are still some upcoming pair events but as I’ve said earlier, everyone needs to continue to do their own duties as an actor. Q: What if people change their minds about shipping your ship in the future? Bright: I think it’s a normal thing. I feel that when someone (likes us), they also like our work. I feel like our fanclub likes both Yai and Jom, and they also like Bright and Non. They like the characters and that Bright and Non play these characters and they so they like us at this point. I feel like people who came to like us are also fans of other people. I feel that they are a source of encouragement for me when they like me but I am also glad if they meet someone new or support another person. I feel happy when they come to meet me and if they’re happy when they meet other (celebs), it’s a good thing for them. If there’s a new person, an older person, a regular person or a person they just met that they are happy to meet, I feel that it’s nothing to be stressed about. Let’s say a fan comes and likes me and is following my work and there’s someone new who enters and they like their work, I am glad for them to go support that other person because that person can bring happiness to the fan.
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Wow, I really got carried away with this compilation but as a fan who's followed Nonkul, JJ and Tor since their Nadao days, watching them star in queer-coded series/roles like Bangrak Soi 9/1, Hormones, Diary of Tootsies, Great Men Academy... (or in Bright's case a gay character in lakorn Rivalry), I'm just so proud that they have been able to receive "BL" series script offers that they would like to take on.
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I've never sat well with the difference in the treatment of the press to "BL actors" and "non-BL actors". I wish there weren't such a distinction because it feels like the notion itself holds a lot of prejudices baggage with it, to both "BL" and "non-BL" actors. To quote a friend on Reddit, "I believe most actors would feel more fulfilled if they knew their fans loved/respected them as individual artists, instead of only seeing them as one part of a unit whose value is lower when 'separated' from their official partner."
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47 notes · View notes
frogs00 · 7 hours
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Hello:) can I request Regina or Janis x reader angst fic?
Reader avoids their partner because they’re struggling with stress from schoolwork or home stuff etc and uses restriction to cope. But partner finds out and confront reader so reader hesitantly admits it to their partner and they try to help
Tears
Summary: The request but worse
Warnings: Child/Domestic abuse, reader's home life sucks, Regina and Reader have daddy issues, depressing thought, alcohol abuse. Reader's discretion is advised. (Let me know if I missed anything)
Pairing: Regina George x reader
"Call you on the phone, you just tell me not to go. Baby, I don't want to be alone anymore."
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"What the hell is wrong with you? " Your father screamed in your ear, right in your ear, waving the piece of paper in your face, "A 'C+'? On a math test? You're pathetic, if you don't get your grades up you'll fucking regret it.”
He shoved the paper back into your arms, and you held it to your chest with shaking hands, worried about what he might mean. It wouldn’t be the first time he had threatened you. Tears dripped onto the paper and you squinted your eyes shut, trying to blink your vision into focus.
You looked up after a moment and his hand was raised, and the next thing you knew the back of his hand connected with your face.
Your weekend was filled with studying. You always struggled with focus and motivation, but he threatened you. Threatened to take away the only thing keeping you here. Eyes never leaving the textbook, writing notes till your hand cramped, you ground your teeth. You were drained, so drained.
Bags had formed under your eyes, and you'd hardly eaten. You dreaded Monday. You didn’t want to face anyone, and why would you? Why would they want to face you back?
It was an awakening of the rudest sort, realizing that in the end, the only person that you have is yourself. You’ve been hearing this phrase all of my life, and sure you had Regina and you had your friends. But that all just had to be temporary? Because why would Regina George want a fuck up like you?
What was the permanent? The facts.
The fact that you weren’t worthy. The statistics didn’t lie, and your last test said you were nothing but average. You tried so hard on that test, and yet you still scored average. And did you hate it? Yes, with every fiber in your being. Who wouldn’t hate the feeling? The way your father treated you and how your mother did nothing to stop it. You couldn’t blame her, he scared you, and hurt you to the point you felt unsafe in your room.
But you had to push through if you wanted to accomplish your goals, your dreams, that aching need to escape the house you were raised in.
Snap goes the pencil in your hand, you hadn’t even realized how tightly you had been holding it. You let go of it with a shaky hand, and the splintered piece of wood and graphite fell on the desk. Tears stained your cheek and you let your face fall into your hand.
But, oh god, was It getting to a point where you had to ask yourself if the dream had become a nightmare.
Monday had arrived, you were tired, so fucking tired. Still, you had to try and make that less obvious. How did you do that? Avoid. You had practically mastered the art of ducking and dodging people around you, and it’s not like you felt they’d miss you.
Or maybe you had just gaslighted yourself into thinking that because it scared you to be loved and cared for. You couldn’t handle that… it was too much. It was all too much.
You walked the hall with your eyes downcast, backpack slung rather uncomfortably on your shoulder. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want your girlfriend, lying if you said your head wasn’t pounding, and lying if anyone bothered to ask if you were okay. Sucks to suck I guess.
You had been lost in thought as you turned the corner, bumping into someone. Thankfully, or maybe so so thankfully, it was Cady, “Sorry- Oh, it’s you! Hey, y/n, I’ve hardly heard from you all day,” she laughed then proceeded to eye you skeptically, “What’s the matter?”
“Nothing.” You responded, putting on your best fake smile. It seemed to fool her, at least a little, because she asked if you were sure, when you nodded she then bid you goodbye and skipped away. She was always so happy, it almost made you jealous.
So I guess I’m a liar now. You thought as you darted into your class. You sat down in your seat and fought the urge to nod off, it was almost comical the fact that you already knew everything this particular teacher was talking about, at least the studying paid off, even if you were facing major burnout.
Class dragged on— Honestly, everything did; From how you pulled yourself out of your chair— to how you dragged yourself through the halls. Life was a drag.
Before you knew it, the day passed in a blur, and you were on your walk home.
The next day wasn’t that much different from the last. A foggy haze of numbness and meaningless conversations.
Well, mostly meaningless. During the passing period, your last one of the day, you were switching out your book from your locker when your girlfriend approached you.
“Y/n…” Regina's voice was a whisper, your throat clenched. She sounded worried. You hated that she sounded worried, because if Regina George was worried about you, then that meant you couldn’t wallow in that self-pity you made your home.
“Yeah?” You asked after clearing your throat, you didn’t force a smile though. She’d tell it was fake.
“I’m worried about you, you’re quiet. Did I like…do something? Or some shit.” She asked, her tone growing a bit irritated as she reached the last part, but that was just how she was. You knew it still came from a place of worry, in fact, you wouldn’t be surprised if that irritation was aimed towards herself. Just because you knew that didn’t mean it felt like it.
“No, Regina, you didn’t. I’m fine, just tired.” You shook your head, avoiding her gaze as you shut your locker. Lies, lies, and more lies. Well, you were tired, but that wasn’t just it. You and her both knew that.
“Baby, come on. Tell me what’s wrong,” Regina coaxed, her tone increasing as she spoke, making her sound angry. She was anxious, though, you could tell. Neither of you was great with emotions.
“Stop. I said I’m fine, leave it alone,” You snapped, turning your back on her, “You’re so pushy, god.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not a fan of watching the ones closest to me drift away!” She snapped right back, just like you knew she would. The perfect excuse to walk away… or retort her.
“I’m not your dad, Regina. I have a couple of bad days doesn’t mean I’m going to up and leave, okay? So stop acting like this is the end of the world.” You seethed, grinding your teeth. You glanced at her just in time to see her flinch, a wave of nausea and guilt washed over you.
“Wow.” Regina scoffed, collecting herself, “That was so unnecessary. I was just worried, and you…” She shook her head, you should see her tense, the ways she drew in a breath. She was trying.
You turned around to fully meet her gaze, and you could feel your eyes watering, “I’m sorry, I am,” You whispered, her face softened a bit, “I…I’m just stressed, I shouldn’t have said that.”
“Yeah, you shouldn’t have,” Regina agreed, “It’s fine, I get it, or whatever.” You both stood there for a while, just staring at one another.
“I’m sorry.” You repeated.
“I know.” More silence followed, til she said, “Do you need a hug?” you smiled a bit, the first time in a while. You nodded softly and she wrapped her arms around you. You breathed in deeply, her vanilla and coconut shampoo soothed your mind if only for a moment. Maybe you’d find the strength to talk to her, but not now, you just let yourself be held and pushed through.
You both pulled away when the warning bell rang, and you left it at that.
You were home, or you were at your house. This place didn’t feel like home, not at all, not ever.
You were unpleasantly surprised to find your father sitting on the porch, beer in hand and lead tilted back. He was drunk, you could tell just from the sight of him, and it made your stomach churn. He could be so violent when drunk. You swallowed your fear and clutched the strap of your backpack, slowly approaching.
A silent caution always lingered when you interacted with him, always. That was unchanging even as he stopped you.
“Why are you home so late?” He slurred, glowering at you then pushing himself off the wooden chair he spent most of his day.
“I had to walk, Dad, the bus doesn’t run that way on Mondays,” You explained calmly, and he nodded. Your gaze flickered around and you noted that your little sister's shoes weren’t on the shoe rack, “Where is Ashley?”
His expression turned sour, “She’s at some friend's house, on a school night. A load of bullshit! Me and your mom got into it because of her, because of you dumb ass kids,” he growled, “Why do you care, anyways, huh?” He took a step towards you, and the acrid smell of both alcohol and cigarettes hit your nose, you grimaced.
“She’s my sister, of course, I care-” You started but cut off as you watched his irritation grow. You could see it in his body language, hands curling into fists.
“God, you kids are so fucking useless! You should be studying, you hear me? The least a mistake like you could do.” he grabbed your shirt and tugged you towards him, and your heart pounded.
His voice was heavily slurred and his eyes were wide and wild, breath hot on your face. You couldn’t take it, you couldn’t do this another day, and pushed him off of you then sprinted the other way.
He trampled after you to the edge of the yard, but he didn’t give chase, too intoxicated and not caring enough.
You were so tired of running, what exactly were you running to? You’re tired, tired of all this escaping. It reminds you of that part in all the horror movies, the ones where the characters are running for their lives. Because ‘It’s all so beautiful’ or ‘lf is worth living’, and shit. Well, maybe it was to them. But, god, was it a whole lot of hell for you right now.
Two blocks down, you stopped, panting. You sat down on the curb and placed your head in your hands. You pulled out your phone, lucky it wasn’t dead.
You called Regina. I mean who else would you call?
After two rings she answered, “Regina?”
“Y/n? Are you okay?”
“Not really,” you admitted, feeling those tears you’ve been holding back slip from the corners of your eyes, “Can you pick me up? My dad…” you trailed off, voice shaking.
“Your dad? Yeah, I’ve heard enough. I’m on my way,” you heard rustling over the phone, a jingle of keys, then her voice asking, “Where are you?”
“I’ll drop a pin,” you looked over your head, grey clouds were rolling in, and you just hoped it didn’t start raining before she got here, “thank you.”
“Of course.” she softly said into the phone, then hung up.
You sat there by yourself, a wind chilling you to the bones. You didn’t like the wind, never had. It flushed your face and made your hair a mess, but you liked the smell it brought in, the damp smell of leaves and coming rainfall, it was all so refreshing in a way you couldn’t place. You wish you could appreciate it more, but that was hard with tears rolling down your cheek still, adding to the icy feeling.
You wiped the tears away with the sleeve of your sweater, staring at the pavement. You hardly registered Regina’s mom's car pulling up, but you did register the footsteps approaching, lifting your head.
“Baby, oh god, are you okay?” She gasped out the question, looking you over and pulling you to your feet. You felt something wet hit your head and you looked up, not answering her question.
It was raining.
“Baby?” She repeated a concerned expression on her face.
“Yes, sorry. I’m okay. He didn’t hit me…right now at least.” You and she pulled you into a hug and then towards the car, she must not have brought the Jeep because she actually checked the weather.
You both got into the car quickly. You closed your eyes, she didn’t ask any more questions. She knew better than to ask right away, it was better to let you settle in. You leaned against the cold window of the car, your breath foging the glass, watching the downpour and the water streaking down the glass.
You liked the rain, you did. You liked the way it filled the world with white noise, it was soothing. You liked to run around in it with your arm spread out and head pointed at the sky. You enjoyed the things that came with the rain too. You like gray and wet and rhythmically noisy, you liked hiding under cozy blankets.
You were so lost in your thoughts, that when you felt a warm hand brush yours, you flinched. You turned your head, looking at Regina who was staring at you curiously. You intertwine your and the blonde's fingers together wordlessly.
“You’re cold, feel okay?” She asked and you nodded, you didn’t want to talk. You turned to stare at the red light that shined through the gloom.
You glanced back at her, she was still staring so you asked, “What?”
“Nothing, you always just look so thoughtful, I guess.” She shrugged, then stepped on the gas.
Sooner than later you two arrived at her house, you both were quiet when you two got back, Regina went straight to the kitchen and you sat down on the couch inhaling and exhaling slowly. Minutes late she returned with two mugs of hot chocolate. You gave her a tired, grateful smile. She smiled back.
You both sipped at your drinks quietly, it wasn’t awkward necessarily but you could tell she was itching to ask questions, so you turned to her.
“I’m sorry, by the way. For this, I know I’m a mess. My dad is a huge ass and it’s physically and mentally killing me,” You trailed off, swallowing thickly, “Still, I feel like It’s all my fault, I don’t know why I do this. I’m not used to this, to being loved. It’s hard to accept; it scares me so badly. It terrifies me and I run away.” It was easier that way, but you didn’t say that.
Regina sighed, setting down her mug then grabbing and clutching your hand, “It’s okay, I know. Dads can be pretty shitty. Yours is, mine is. But it’s not your fault. It isn’t, y/n,” she shook her head, “Avoiding others isn’t helping, though. I get it, trust me, I’m the queen of avoiding my problems. Hell! I avoided the truth I was gay for years, but I’m trying. We both are.”
You started crying again, it was hard to hold it in, “Thank you…” you breathed, “I don’t deserve you-”
Regina smiled a bit, “Don’t say that, it’s bullshit,” she rolled her eyes, then softened, “You have people in your corner, okay? You don’t have to do everything alone. We can both work on that.” She pulled you into a hug, you cried softly into her. Damn, did it feel good to get out, to be held.
You both remained like that for a while till she asked you if you wanted to shower, you agreed pretty quickly considering it was still pouring. You took a shower together.
You got comfortable at Regina’s side, rubbing circles in her lower back, “Your back okay? I know it can get achy when it rains.” you whispered, gazing into her blue eyes.
“Yeah, it’s fine,” Regina shrugged, then yawned, “I kind of like the rain, actually. Not getting wet though, that’s disgusting.” she mused but didn’t elaborate further.
You let out a soft laugh at the sour face she made, Regina hated getting wet, unlike you, “Me too.” You smiled. You both lay in each other's arms, listening to the rain and wishing it would stay longer. The sound seemed to drown out all of your problems, or maybe just laying beside her made it all fade away.
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A/N: Kinda proud of this one even though it took me forever
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randomfoggytiger · 1 day
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1998: Gillian Anderson and Her Family
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Gillian Anderson is strongly protective of her 4-year-old daughter, Piper. Says Anderson’s mother, Rosemary, “Motherhood has been enormously healthy for her. She’s more secure.”
Five years ago, a 24-year-old Gillian Anderson walked onto the set of The X-Files a virtual unknown....
No longer the sidekick, Gillian (pronounced “Jillian”) Anderson has watched her popularity propel her to the top tier of her profession, financially and artistically....
At the same time, she is struggling to maintain her balance, with a non-stop workload, frenzied fans and a 4-year-old daughter. “The only thing I care about,” she says, sitting in her trailer one evening during an X-Files shoot, “is that I’m perceived as a hard worker. This is what I love to do. This is my job.”
...“She certainly has established herself as an equal partner” on The X-Files, says her mother, Rosemary, a computer specialist who lives in Grand Rapids, Mich. “When she first started, I think, she was more frightened than she tried to show. But I also think her talents meshed with the writers’, and it’s becoming more of a vehicle for her. For a while there, she used to joke that she didn’t have much to say except, ‘What do you think it is, Mulder?’ ”
...Her daughter, Piper Maru, is a fixture on the X-Files set, and on this day is being carried around piggyback by the actress. The cherubic child, with her straight bangs and tiny rain boots, has been adopted by the cast and crew and often raids the prop truck for bloodied fake hands to wave about.
Anderson shares custody with her estranged husband, former X-Files assistant art director Clyde Klotz. The actress herself admitted she was difficult to be married to — it lasted less than three years — because of her strong will and fierce ambition. There is no doubt that Anderson is focused, and single-minded. On the set, she is highly professional and self-protective. While gossips would love to play up a feud between her and Duchovny, the truth is more complex. They seem to have a symbiotic, if somewhat strained, rapport, and they retreat to separate trailers during shooting breaks....
Born in Chicago to Rosemary and Edward Anderson, Gillian accompanied the family to Puerto Rico before settling in London, where her father studied film production. Her mother says she was adventurous and welcomed “new experiences.”
“One of my very favorite stories happened when we were in London,” Rosemary Anderson recalls. “It was her first day of nursery school. Her father was taking her down the stairs and she looked back up at me, saw my face and said, ‘Don’t cry, Mom.’ She was fine. I was not.”
After nine years, the Andersons returned to America and settled in Grand Rapids.
“By the time I was 11, I had been on 40-some planes,” the actress says, lighting another cigarette. “I remember my parents taking me to parties a lot. Running around, then falling asleep. Having my pajamas on and being carried to the car. … Some of my greatest memories are of them shoving me in the back of a VW Bug and sleeping on the way home.”
Now, her mother says, having a child has changed Anderson. It’s been “enormously healthy for her. I marvel that she can juggle that insane schedule. And she’s definitely become more secure, as an actress and as a parent. I think it makes her more serene.”
Anderson confirms that. “Your life lands on a plateau of seriousness all of a sudden, and things become more weighty. Since I’ve had Piper, I’ve been a much happier person. She is the most important thing. That’s what I think of first.”
...Doing the show, which requires 16-hour days 10 months of the year, has been grueling, and Anderson says her biggest fear is “insanity.” (She was previously quoted as calling her stint in Vancouver “a death sentence,” which did not go over well with Carter.)
She takes a sip of bottled water. “I think a big fear, too, is experiencing pain that will not end. I know pain, and I also know that it passes. But I guess when I’m in that, one of my fears is that it won’t end.”
Another real fear is being adored to death. Last summer, while shooting the X-Files feature film — reportedly a $60 million project — she was stalked by paparazzi trying to snap her with Piper at a playground. “In one area,” she says, “there were so many converging on me at once that the whole shopping area got together and talked to the sheriff’s department, and they were no longer allowed in that area. It makes me furious.”
Another fear is more insidious: self-destruction, as exemplified by her faux pas at the Emmys. Or her reluctance to fully embrace her current stardom. “I have to look at how I may have been involved in creating situations in my life,” she says. “How much can I not accept good things in my life? That I have to perhaps subconsciously create something that immediately shows me I’m not …”
Her voice trails off. She seems smaller, and more fragile, than her X-Files character.
A nagging sense, after all this time and hard work, of not deserving her current success?
She exhales a stream of cigarette smoke and lets a small smile cross her face. “Ultimately,” she sighs, “it probably is.”
-February 1998
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pichiru · 20 hours
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The Sun Also Smiles - Chapter 3
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Chapters - [1] [2] [3]
Summary - With Mabel and Dipper's 16th birthday party on the horizon, Grunkle Stan takes to online dating to find a date for the party. But who he meets isn't who she thinks she is. Things start to get weird.
Word Count - 3,251
Pairing(s) - Stan Pines x OC
Genre(s): Romance, Comedy, Mystery
~~~~~~~~
Solana said:
Good morning, Stanley Pines 🖤
Stanley 🖤🖤🖤 said:
Mornin toots
Solana said:
Did you sleep well?
Stanley 🖤🖤🖤 said:
Like a damn rock. What about you?
Solana said:
I slept wonderfully. Had a hot date with a nice and shy old guy and my favorite tv show last night
Stanley 🖤🖤🖤 said:
Oh yeah? Hope he was handsome
Solana said:
He is. Sexy even.
Stanley 🖤🖤🖤 said:
Damn. You think I’m sexy? Wish I could give you a compliment too but I have no idea what you look like, toots
Solana said:
Soon, soon. Very soon. I promise. I wanna make sure that you’re not gonna up and run away the moment you see me.
Stanley 🖤🖤🖤 said:
Why would I book it?
Solana said:
Iunno. It happens all the time time.
Stanley 🖤🖤🖤 said:
Even for me, that’s rude as hell. I’m sorry
Solana said:
Why are YOU sorry? You didn’t do it. I appreciate the kindness though.
Stanley 🖤🖤🖤 said:
Lemme meet you at your job some time?
Solana said:
Maybe. Let me get through the day today and I’ll give you an answer to that. I’m in a rush right now. Boss is on my ass about being present and punctual.
Stanley 🖤🖤🖤 said:
Yeah I gotcha. I’ll be waiting for that answer, babe
Solana said:
🖤🖤🖤
“Grunkle Stan, are you ready yet?” Mabel called from up the stairs.
“Did you sleep in your chair again? That’s not good for your back, you know,” Dipper said with playful disappointment in his voice.
Stan smiled to himself at the kids looking out for him despite the fact that he was a grown man and could take care of himself. It was just nice to know that people other than Ford cared for once.
He dropped the leg rest on the recliner then pulled himself to the edge of the seat. With a large and very much audible grunt, Stan pushed himself onto his feet. He knew Dipper was right but sometimes forcing himself to lay in an empty bed was tough. A loud crack was heard when he stretched out his back, immediately creating relief.
“Yeah, yeah, kids. I got it,” he yelled up at them, knowing they were standing at the top of the stairs listening to his morning routine.
“Lemme take a shower and snag breakfast on the way there,” Stan offered as he continued to stretch and crack bones in his rickety old body.
“No chance Grunkle Stan! It’s almost noon and I’ve been waiting alllllll morning for you to wake up and take me and Dipper-“
“I told you, it’s Maze now. Short for Mason,” Dipper murmured to Mabel, hitting her arm. Not hard though.
Mabel rolled her eyes in an exaggerated manner. “I’ve been waiting alllllll morning for you to wake up and take me and MAZE to that massive art store that just opened up recently.”
“Maze?” Stan asked under his breath to himself in confusion. “I’m sorry, kid. I stayed up a little later than usual to watch the rerun of The Duchess Approves. I’ll make it up to ya. I promise.”
Mabel peeked down the stairs to see Stan standing at the bottom, looking as if he was deep in thought. “Okay. As long as you keep that promise.”
“I’m a man of my word! I’ve never made a promise I couldn’t keep. Ask Sixer.” Stan yawned as he stretched one last time to get the residual tiredness out of his body.
“Shower then store!” Mabel said with a nodding huff.
“You got it, kid,” Stan chuckled. He turned the tv off and tossed the remote back into the recliner. He trudged up the stairs and past the kids at the top, immediately making his way into the bathroom. He shut the door quickly and sighed heavily.
Why was Solana being so avoidant about being seen? Was she actually a catfish or even a modicum of who she said she is? It was hard to tell through just a screen or a phone call. Stan was used to being scammed and the scammer but this one…this one felt like the worst kind of scam and that’s saying a lot considering he was actually a criminal.
He shook his head to try and shake the feeling off. Today was about Mabel and starting up her weird earring business. This wouldn’t even be a thing he’d consider if she wasn’t looking to be a business owner like her good old Grunkle Stan. It lit up the darkest corners of his heart to know that fact.
As he went through the motions of taking a shower and getting dressed, Mabel was sitting with Dipper in the living room. She was sitting in the seat of the recliner and Dipper on the arm with his leg up. They were barely watching some old cowboy flick that had a lot of staring and not a lot of action. It could almost be classified as media's longest staring contest if one to be honest.
Dipper had on a black denim vest with distress on the sleeves, (what he thought was) an obscure band t-shirt, ripped jeans, and combat boots. Even though it was the beginning of summer, he chose fashion over comfort. He even started donning "guy-liner" which everyone knew was just eyeliner he tried to masculinize. Mabel did it for him every morning without complaint because she wanted her brother to look pretty.
Mabel however barely changed her fashion sense in the years since they were last in the mystery shack. Except she upgraded to overall dresses over her sweaters instead of regular skirts and wore high top converse instead of regular black flats. Sometimes she would steal Dipper's band t-shirts if they had a weird enough logo.
"Dip-" Mabel started before she got a death glare from her brother. "Maaazzzeeeeeee," she said in a drawn out way to try and get the name on her tongue. "Maze, did you hear any of what Grunkle Stan was saying on the phone last night?"
"No, I was _actually_ sleeping."
"Hey! I was too excited to sleep because we're starting up my business soon! And going material shopping today. I had to make sure I had everything written down and designed so the art store people could help me," she explained before puffing out her cheeks at the end.
"ANYWAY!" she continued. "He was talking to a mystery woman and watching The Duchess Approves. It had a crazy plot twist at the end. I won't spoil it for you though," she rambled.
"Mabel, you're getting off track again," Maze said as he flicked the shoelaces on his combat boots.
"Oh! Right! Well anyway, I think he asked her on a date," she whispered to him.
"A date? Grunkle Stan? Yeah okay. Funny joke Mabel," Maze said as he rolled his eyes. "Grunkle Stan doesn't have it in him to even talk to a woman let alone ask her on a date."
"I dunnoooooo! He got pretty far on courting Lazy Susan before things went downhill. I just think they thought they were better as friends. But this woman...She's different. I think he really likes her."
"How could you know that from one conversation on the phone?" Maze asked.
"I can tell by the tone of his voice when he was talking to her. Grunkle Stan never talks to anyone like that. Not even us! And you know he loves us to death."
"He'd never admit it though," Maze added.
"Of course not. But we will always know his truth," Mabel sighed gently as she sat back into the chair.
"Kids? Ya ready to hit the road?" Stan's voice suddenly called from up the stairs.
Mabel and Maze sat up straight when they heard his voice. They looked at each other, scared that he might have heard their conversation. They gulped in unison.
"Y-Yeah! I got everything in my bag and Di...Maze is ready too!" Mabel called back with a nervous laugh, grabbing her tote bag and standing up straight.
"Nice," Maze said sarcastically with no real bite to it. But he's glad she said something because he knows they would have both been sitting there in stunned silence until Stan came down to see if they were even still alive.
"Shhhhhh!" Mabel covered his face with one of her hands. Maze didn't move in the slightest. He was used to Mabel doing that at this point.
They could hear footsteps descending down the first half of the steps then onto the landing. Stan was standing there in his mystery shack suit with his red fez, a sleek gold chain with his stylish, totally for show, cane in his right hand. Which meant...he was ready to haggle the art store workers at any cost. He only wore that suit when he wanted to scam during daylight hours.
"Grunkle Stan, you better be nice! I know what that suit means," Mabel warned, putting her hands on her hips and puffing her cheeks out.
"Hey, don't ya want the best materials at half the cost? Which means ya can get even more!" Stan retorted with his signature, boastful grin plastered on his face.
Mabel sighed loudly while leaning her head back. "Yeessssss," groaned playfully.
"Exactly. Let's get going." Stan looked at Maze and gave him a thumbs up. "I had a goth phase too, kid. Just want you to know that," he said as he finished coming down the stairs. He patted both of their heads with heavy hands and smiled even more. Nothing made him happier in this moment than seeing his niece and nephew continue growing into their own person. He just wanted them to be happy and he'd do anything to make that happen.
"Grunkle Staaannnnnn," Maze groaned, shaking his head from under Stan's hand and fixing his hair.
"Sorry, kid. Takes a lot of hair gel to get it like that, eh?" Stan chuckled as he walked towards the door. "Keepin it in mind for the next time."
Maze smiled at his uncle's apology. Stan was the last person he expected to understand him right now. How could Stanley Pines of all people understand what it felt like to be an outcast? It always seemed like he knew just what to do to fit in and Ford was the outcast.
"Maze?" Mabel called from the door. She was looking at him with concern at the way he spaced out suddenly. "You okay?"
"Y-Yeah! Sorry. I was just thinking about what kind of earrings I could make for myself when you get everything. Twin discount, you know," He said coolly.
Mabel grinned, clutching the strap of her tote. Her family's support meant the world to her. "It'll probably be something emmoooooo," she teased. "Shotgun!" she yelled suddenly before darting towards Stan's car.
"NOT FAIR! You got a head start!" Maze said as he ran out of the house past Stan to try and beat Mabel to the car.
Stan laughed to himself as he closed the front door and locked the door. He strolled over to the car as the twins argued over who was going to sit where in the car. "The lady of the hour should sit in the front." Mabel stuck her tongue out at Maze. "Then...Maze can sit in the front when we come home." Maze stuck his tongue out at Mabel in retaliation. Stan unlocked the car and hopped in. Right after, the twins piled into the spots in the car.
"Buckle those seatbelts up," Stan reminded as he turned the radio on a low volume so there wasn't any awkward silence.
"Grunkle Stan, you literally never put your seatbelt on," Mabel laughed as she put hers on.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm an adult. I could take a car crash to the head right now and be fiiine," Stan said smoothly but in a way that would definitely be conveyed as a joke. He admired her for calling him out on his shit. He needed to be setting a better example for them since they were much more sentient and impressionable than the last time he saw them. He popped it on, adjusted his rearview mirror and drove off towards town.
Stan and Mabel were singing along to a random pop song that they both were surprised that each other knew. Once they realized that they were karaoke buddies, they sang their hearts out to the song while Maze sat in the backseat, marveling at their ability to not care so much. Once the song was over with and they calmed down, Stan adjusted his rearview mirror so he could have a direct eye line with Maze.
"So uh, Maze. Ya wanna talk about the name change?" Stan asked as he turned down the radio so he could hear him if he decided to respond.
"Oh, uh..." Maze's cheeks flushed shyly as he sunk down into the seat. "I felt like Dipper was too little kiddish and Mason wasn't cool enough. It feels like an old man name. So I came up with Maze," he explained, feeling his ears heat up from embarrassment. "It's like a cooler and more edgy version of Mason, you know?"
Stan smiled to himself. He was proud of his nephew for taking steps to trying to find himself in this crucial stage of his development. "Yeah? It sounds badass," he admitted with a grin. "The ladies'll go crazy over Maze."
"You think so?" He asked, his cheeks fully flushed now. He had a smile on his face that was so relieved that Stan was extremely supportive without a second thought to it.
"Hell yeah! Better than borin old Stan," Stan said with a nod, smiling even more now.
"Well someone seems to like that, 'boring old Stan'," Mabel chimed in bravely with a devious grin while she wiggled her eyebrows knowingly.
The car swerved slightly after she said that. Stan was shocked that she knew _anything_. His own cheeks started turning red in response.
"Got no clue what you're on about, kid," he deflected quickly.
"Oh yeeeaaaahhhhhh? Who's Solana then?" Mabel asked, putting her head in her hands with her elbows on the arm rest between her and her uncle.
"B-Bill collector!" He stammered before turning the radio up loud enough to where he couldn't hear her if she tried to speak again.
Mabel giggled and turned to face forward in her seat again. She knew he was lying of course and it was hilarious watching him trying to explain his way out of it.
After what felt like an agonizing amount of time to Stan later, they pulled into a parking spot at the new art shop he promised he'd take Mabel to. He turned the car off then immediately pulled the keys out.
"Ready to get the ball rollin, kid?" Stan asked Mabel.
"I'm ready like Freddy!" Mabel said excitedly, practically vibrating in her seat at this point.
"Go on in. I'll meet you kids in there. Make sure you look all helpless so they'll feel bad for some kids and give even more of a discount," Stan reminded, looking between the both of them. The twins nodded and rushed out of the car to run into the store.
Stan took his phone out of his pocket to see if Solana had texted him. She didn't. He figured it was because she was at work so he figured he'd hear from her later on in the day after her shift. Or maybe on her lunch break? He hoped lunch was the option.
Wait what? Stop. Full stop. Why was he acting like this about a woman he barely knew?
Get it together, Stanley, he thought to himself, shaking his head and rubbing his face in disbelief. His eyes trailed over to his reflection in the rearview mirror. He almost didn't recognize himself.
"Ya got this. You are the man. Ya'll get Mabel the best deals in the history of Gravity Falls on art supplies. Keep it together around them. Don't let them see you crack," he said to his reflection in the mirror, trying to hype himself up like usual. He always did this before every Mystery Shack tour back when he still ran it. He left that up to Soos long ago. It'd been a while. He was rusty but he hoped he still had the charm.
Before he could get inside his own head any more than what he already was, Stan got out of the car. He made sure to grab his cane just in case he had to play up the old man card. As he locked the doors, he was already walking into the store.
The doors slid open and he was hit with the crispest wall of air conditioning he'd ever felt since he moved to this, not so, sleepy town. They weren't kidding when they said this was the biggest art store this town has ever seen. It seemed locally owned. By who, he didn't know. Nor did he care. He was about to scam the fuck out of them.
There was a loud clatter heard in a nearby aisle.
"Fuck!" the voice said in a defeated tone.
Stan grew curious if the kids had anything to do with that. He went to inspect almost immediately. Once he reached the aisle where the commotion was, there was a woman bent over in a short skirt. If she didn't have her striped tights on, her ass definitely would have been showing. It was nice and round plus her thighs were the perfect size to match. When he caught himself staring, Stan screeched to a grinding halt in his tracks when he remembered that he was still very much interested in Solana.
"Excuse me, toots. Ya need a hand?" he found himself asking without even thinking a millisecond about it. He cussed himself out internally for treating this woman the way he did initially and wanted to right the wrong. Even though she had no idea.
"Ah, no. I got it," she said as she stood up straight and turned around to see Stan. She froze in her tracks when their eyes met. She stood there, statuesque.
Stan couldn't help but look over her in the few seconds he had to respond. She had a light yellow color to her hair and it was almost reminiscent of Betty Boop with all the little curls she had covering her head and part of her face. It was short too. Above her shoulders. Her skin was dewy and brown. Her eyes were a deep and chocolatey brown. Her lips. Her shirt had one of those little heart shaped keyholes. It showed every bit of her cleavage.
He snapped himself back to reality first, still finding her seemingly frozen in time.
"Hello?" Stan asked, waving a hand in her face. "Anybody home up there?"
"Hi, Stanley," she said in a very familiar voice with a smile and a tiny wave of her fingers.
Stan froze in his spot as well. His throat immediately started feeling like it was closing up and his heart started racing.
"S-Solana?" he asked in quiet shock. His entire demeanor changed almost instantly. He was looking everywhere but her, feeling the anxiety of seeing her set in quickly. This was something he hadn't accounted for. At least not today.
"Tsk, tsk, Stanley," Solana said as she did the two finger wiping motion at him. "Eye fucking me already?" she laughed. "How ungentlemanlike of you."
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indigo-flowers09 · 1 day
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OMG HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! I JUST DISCOVERED YOUR BLOG LIKE A FEW DAYS AGO BUT I LOVE YOUR ART SM OMG 😭😭😭💕💕💕
I LOVE YOUR UTY AU TOO!!! KEEP UP THE GREAT WORK & CONGRATS ON TURNING 15!! 🥳
BLOW OUT YOUR CANDLES & MAKE A WISH! >:3
🎂
Gosh i said i wasn’t gonna post this week and here i am, making ANOTHER drawing for another tumblr ask („•v•„U )
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little rant under the cut ;3
I might be overblowing it but i mean, i’ve been getting a lot of love for this au these last. two weeks i think? gosh time moves so slow…
I even got my very first commission! and i’ve gotten so many likes and heard so many people say they love little Clover up there and it really means the world! I’m so happy, even if it’s to a handful of people, to share something that im passionate about and has been keeping me sane for the past month or two, alongside it being undertale, one of my earliest special interests and biggest passions.
I’m planning on making a C!overtale comic, starting at some point in the next few months, if not by winter break. If i actually end up finishing it, and all its routes, you might even be able to expect an Overtale proper comic ;]
I’m just happy that people care about my art so much, and that i can enjoy my birthday knowing people care as much about Clover as i do.
Sincerely, Indigo :]
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moonkit60633 · 9 months
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Ok so sometimes diesel fuel is dyed red to discourage thieves so……
Bloody one under the cut? Technically not blood but I’m tagging it anyways bc I made it look like blood
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ducktracy · 2 months
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there are a lot of evil people in the world and a lot of darkness in the world and so it’s very important for me to stress that now more than ever is the time to spread kindness and compassion. combat the evil by not only not partaking in it, but actively refuting it. destroy the notion that being compassionate or generous or kind to someone is uncool or embarrassing or even scary. be the change you want to see. start a chain reaction. positivity only breeds more positivity. do an act of kindness for someone so that that person who is too afraid to do it themselves can see you, realize that they’re not alone, and perhaps sheepishly follow your example. and then the next person who is too afraid but sees that person can do the same. when bad news comes out about bad people or horrible atrocities in the world it’s such an easy impulse to despair, and obviously it’s important to feel what you need to feel. grieve. be angry. be sorrowful. be empathetic. but dust off your pants and get up and be a part of a chain reaction that, no matter how small the scale, and spread compassion and love and care. all the reasons why you might not—“it’s hard! it’s scary! people will make fun of me! it’s useless because there’s too much evil!” are all grade A arguments as to why you should. you have no idea how many people you could inspire to do the same. even if it doesn’t get you anyway far, you can at least say you have the nobility of trying. please choose love and please choose life. you are worth loving and you are worth inspiring others to love
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artsymeeshee · 5 months
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Been having major Stan twins feels and needed to draw out an idea I got out. I just feel like deep regrets and feelings will come out of nowhere for both and get overwhelming, sometimes they need each other’s company
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milolunde · 5 months
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Happy Wholesome Sonic and Tails Wednesday losers I can’t get past Chemical Plant Act 2
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hollytree33 · 8 months
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JUDGEMENT
Finally, her fourth and final card for Trespasser!!
1. The Hanged Man
2. The Chariot
3. The High Priestess
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ricky-mortis · 3 months
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Curtwen Week Day 4: Haunted
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robinshandhurts · 6 months
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ALNST MY BELOVED
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lilybug-02 · 6 months
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Happy Birthday @akanemnon :3 ✨🎉
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