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#And that got me thinking about - what if Stanley was Actually the sleepy one? How much of the player's intention carries over into Stanley?
sysig · 1 year
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The Sleepy Parable (Patreon)
#Doodles#The Stanley Parable#TSP#Inspired by a play session I had while I was Very sleepy haha#I forget if it was late or early but it was definitely Tired out while I was doing some replaying so I was a little lethargic#Lots of crouching and looking at the floor and not much looking around just waiting as the Narrator talked over elevator rides haha#And that got me thinking about - what if Stanley was Actually the sleepy one? How much of the player's intention carries over into Stanley?#Obviously Stanley can't Literally get tired - he can slow down or speed up depending on where he is and you can make him crawl around#But a lot of Stanley is also left up to interpretation ♪ So why not a Sleepy Stanley <3#And sleepy means pajamas! Haha#Was this all just my master plan to draw Stanley in a nightcap? Maybe :3c#I really was sleepy while playing but you know how it is with thoughts lol#I do like the idea of the Narrator being extremely callous and uncaring for certain things - like Sinister's arm for example#But is Stanley hydrated? Need to use the restroom? Well rested?#Oddly I don't think he'd care that much about food?? Lol I can just see Sin's blood sugar bottoming out and the Narrator like ''Ah''#The way the Narrator plays the Sims: Keeps all motives except Comfort and Fun maxed out at all time and gets annoyed with the sims complain#Also! Let Stanley into his bed in the apartment! Either of them! With no buckets pls just let him rest For Once#The last one is of him enjoying(?) a cup of coffee since there's just so many options of mug around the office lol#That's certainly one way to stay awake
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a/n: happy father’s day and happy birthday to me! a fun little fluffy thing with dad!andrei to celebrate the day 🥰 i’m off to enjoy some birthday cake and presents lol
word count: 4k
tw: some mild smut, mostly just a lazy make out session
summary: it’s andrei’s first father’s day and you and evie celebrate with him all day long
Andrei is still passed out, snoring, with his arm thrown over his face, when the baby monitor crackles to life and Evie’s soft baby coos penetrate the sleepy haze of your brain. On autopilot, you swing your legs out of bed and yawn. Blinking blearily, you scoop up a crew neck stolen from Andrei years ago off the floor and yank it over your head before you pad down to the nursery. Andrei shifts as you leave the room, sheets drifting lower down his stomach. You linger in the doorway, appreciating the defined muscles of his chest and stomach, the faint tenting of the sheet from his half-hard morning wood. A lick of desire sparks at your spine, even as your poor, battered vagina screams at you to avoid the temptation of sex with your husband.
Shaking your head a little to get rid of the smutty thoughts, you twist your hair up into a neater bun and creep into the nursery. Evie’s awake in her crib, arms and legs kicking and flailing. You lean a forearm on the railing of the crib and rest your other hand on her belly, rubbing softly. “Hey, baby cakes,” you grin, Evie’s attention immediately focused on you. She gives you a big, gummy smile, her brown eyes wide in her tiny face. “You ready for some mama time?”
Evie waves her hands up at you and you scoop her up, cuddling her to your chest. She’s soft and warm and smells like baby soap and milk. You can’t help but smother her little face with kisses, making her laugh - your favorite sound in the whole world. You narrate while you change her out of her sleep sack and pajamas, “today’s a big day, bunny. It’s Father’s Day, your papa’s first ever one! So we have to make him feel extra special today.” She scrunches her little face up, babbling nonsense sounds.
“That’s right!” You reply, acting as if she had actually responded to you. “Papa’s special every day and even more this year because he won the big trophy! And you, little miss Evie, are going to be the star of Uncle Jordo’s barbecue because we’re putting your cute little diapered behind into the Stanley Cup.”
Evie drools and you laugh, wiping at her chin with one hand. “Keep up that energy for the party, baby girl,” you adjust her little pink romper set and settle her back in your arms so you can feed her. While she eats, you hum softly, rocking in the chair that your parents had bought for the nursery. Evie’s tiny hand splays over the top swell of your breast and you can’t help but marvel at how minuscule and perfect her little fingernails are. It still blows your mind that this perfect, little baby is all yours and Andrei’s. She pops off your breast with a little baby grumble and you burp her, pulling your bra and sweatshirt back into place.
“Okay, Evie,” you plant a smacking kiss on her cheek, “time to get the day started.”
With Evie cradled in one arm, you head downstairs, already mentally running through your to-do list before heading over to the Staals’ house later for a Father’s Day barbecue. You’ve got a busy day ahead of you - before the barbecue, you’re getting together with your parents and Andrei’s parents for lunch so they can spend time with Evie. But before that you want to celebrate with Andrei, just the three of you.
And the celebrations start with breakfast - so you tuck Evie into the carrier strapped to your chest and get started. Her cheek presses against your chest and you bounce a little on the balls of your feet, making her giggle. “What do we think about a fancy breakfast for Papa, Eve? Pancakes and eggs and bacon?” You narrate your actions to Evie as you go, knowing that she’s absorbing so much even if it doesn’t seem like it. Her little legs kick at your sides as you work, cracking eggs into a bowl of pancake mix. In the two months since Evie was born, you’ve become incredibly skilled at doing things with her strapped to your chest, so making breakfast is nothing.
Add in the fact that you’ve been functioning essentially as a single mother while the Canes were winning game after game during the playoffs, eventually winning the Cup just a few days ago, and it’s almost weirder for you not to have Evie attached to your body.
“Pancakes done,” you say, dropping the third pancake on the plate and immediately getting started on scrambling eggs. The bacon gets laid out on a sheet pan and popped in the oven and you’re feeling good about getting everything ready and making sure you’re quiet so that Andrei doesn’t wake up before you’re ready for him. Evie starts to get cranky, scrunching her little face up before she starts to cry. “Oops, sorry baby cakes,” you put the bowl of eggs back on the counter and adjust so you can feed Evie. She quiets immediately, closing her eyes as she sucks.
“Mom win,” you mumble, happy you got her before she really started shrieking. While Evie eats, you make the scrambled eggs, getting them light and fluffy and creamy and perfect. Once the eggs are off the stove and on a plate, you cover them with a bowl so they stay warm while you burp Evie. She lets out a noise that sounds like it could have come from one of Andrei’s teammates and you laugh, finding it adorable how startled Evie looks by her burp. “You’re the cutest baby in the whole world, did you know that?” You brush your nose against Evie’s temple, pressing a few kisses to her chubby cheek.
She squeals and you grin even wider. “Papa’s going to love our surprises,” you tell her, tucking her back into the carrier wrap and finishing up breakfast. The eggs, bacon, and pancakes get put on a tray and you cut up some fruit too, mixing it all together in a bowl. Two mugs of coffee - doctored to perfection for the both of you - and a glass of orange juice round out breakfast. You have his presents hidden in your closest upstairs, so you don’t have to worry about making two trips.
It’s a little bit of tricky maneuvering, with Evie cuddled close to your chest and the tray balanced in front of you, but months of practice carrying the baby and the laundry basket or the grocery bags is coming in handy now. You bump the bedroom door open with your hip and poke your head in. Andrei’s still asleep, but he had to have moved while you were downstairs since the sheet and blankets are tugged up over his lap, halfway over his stomach. His face is still slack with sleep, the full playoff beard overwhelming the lower half of his face. You smile to yourself and put the breakfast tray on top of your dresser, taking Evie out of the wrap and laying her on Andrei’s chest. Instinctively and immediately, both of his hands come up to cradle her head and back protectively. He yawns, eyes still scrunched shut, and murmurs, “my little zaychik hopped here by herself?”
“She’s a genius,” you tease, taking the carrier wrap off your body and dropping it to the floor. “Just like her mama.”
Andrei cracks open one eye and the corner of his mouth lifts in a grin. “You are something, solnyshka,” he teases back, cradling Evie close while he manages to sit up. She wiggles in his grip, letting out soft cooing noises. Andrei’s entire face transforms into a sappy expression and he presses kisses all over Evie’s face. “Papa’s little zaychik. You’re cuter every single day,” he says, holding her in the crook of his arms. Her little arms and legs kick and wave and you laugh.
“Another thing she gets from her mama,” you lean over and run a hand through Andrei’s overlong hair, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Happy Father’s Day, by the way.”
“Spasibo,” Andrei captures your mouth with his before you can pull away. “I smell breakfast.”
You waggle your eyebrows at him and bring the tray to bed. “Only the best for Mr. Svechnikov’s first Father’s Day! Dig in and I’ll get your presents.” You scoop a piece of bacon off the plate and bite into it while you dart off to your closet.
While you dig around under the pile of blankets and clothes you used as camouflage, you can hear Andrei talking to Evie. “Mama has predstavlyayet for Papa? But you’re my present, yes? My little zaychik, my little heart.” Your own heart melts with Andrei’s words, hormonal tears pricking at your eyes. You swipe the back of your wrist over your eyes quickly and reach for the shopping bag’s handles, tugging it out from under a winter comforter.
“Okay! Presents for Daddy,” you sing-song, shaking the bag in your hand. Andrei narrows his eyes at you, smirking a little, and you blush, waving him off with your free hand. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m not even remotely ready for kid number two.”
“What if I want that to be my present, solnyshka?” Andrei laughs, bouncing Evie in his arms. “I love how you look pregnant.” His smile is wide, teeth glinting beneath the beard, and you genuinely feel your knees wobble a little. He’s too fucking handsome for his own good.
Setting the bag of presents on the bed, you shake your head, “nope, no way. I need time to recover before I let you get near me with that weapon.” You wave your hand at his lap, grinning.
Andrei shrugs and lifts Evie up to stage-whisper, “we’ll work on Mama. No way are you going to be an only child.”
A scoff leaves your mouth - he’s not going to have to work very hard, you one thousand percent want to give Evie a sibling - and you push the presents closer to Andrei, simultaneously picking up your coffee mug and taking a sip. “Go ahead, open them,” you encourage him.
Andrei shifts Evie to hold her on one arm, her head and neck supported by the crook of his elbow and her body stretched out over his forearm, little pajama clad feet cradled in the palm of his hand. He’s so comfortable holding her now, a practiced ease in his movements, and it’s extremely fucking hot how good of a dad he is. You scoot closer on the bed, pretzeling your legs and cupping the mug of coffee between both hands. Now that you’re not pregnant, but still breastfeeding, your caffeine intake is still limited so you savour every single cup that you manage to drink while it’s still hot.
“This is not such a big deal in Russia,” Andrei says while he unwraps a gift with one hand.
“Get used to it, buddy,” you reply. “Father’s Day is important and we’re always going to celebrate you.”
His mouth curls up in a small smile in response, the blue striped wrapping paper finally falling away from the box. Andrei pulls out a black baseball hat with white embroidery on the front proclaiming him a GIRL DAD. You watch him read the words, his smile growing to show off his dimple and missing tooth. When he looks up at you, his brown eyes are twinkling. “Girl dad?” he says, already pulling the hat on over his hair.
“It’s a high honor,” you tell him, faux-seriously. “Means you have to let her do your hair and makeup when she’s older and twirl her in her little princess dresses. Be her best friend and biggest supporter. Think you can handle all that?” You clear you throat a little, getting emotional thinking about watching Evie grow up and bond with Andrei.
Andrei nods, bouncing Evie softly in his arms. He lifts her to his face and kisses her forehead. “I think I can,” he replies carefully, looking up at you with wide, adoring eyes.
You nudge his foot with yours and he finishes opening his presents - including a card that you made that includes Evie’s little footprints in the shape of a heart. Andrei laughs and tickles the bottoms of Evie’s feet, making her squirm and laugh her baby laugh. She stretches in his grip, fluttering her eyelashes.
“Looks like someone can’t hang,” you murmur, taking her into your arms and resting her against your shoulder. “Time for a nap, I think.”
Andrei steadies you with a hand on your elbow as you climb off the bed, resting his other hand on your hip when you’re on your feet. His hands are warm through the fabric of your pajamas and you lean into his touch a little. “I’m going to put her down and I’ll be back. Finish breakfast,” you tell him, bending at the waist and kissing him quickly. Andrei’s hand snakes around your waist before you can pull back, holding you close. He deepens the kiss, sliding his tongue over your bottom lip until you let your mouth fall open softly. His beard scrapes against your face deliciously.
Evie lets her presence be known, letting out a cranky sounding cry against your shoulder. You huff a sigh against Andrei’s mouth and pull back reluctantly. “Nap and then I’ll be back,” you promise, lips tingling from the kiss. Your cheeks and chin feel a little chapped from his beard.
He smirks at you, the baseball hat on his head slightly askew. “I’ll keep the bed warm, milaya.”
Shaking your head, you carry Evie back into her nursery, calling over your shoulder, “we have lunch plans at noon, don’t get too comfy.”
Evie falls asleep quickly once you have her all swaddled up. She lets out a soft yawn and her entire face goes slack once she’s out. You watch her for a few moments to make sure, smiling softly as her little nose and eyelids twitch while she dreams. You have to resist the urge to run your finger down the perfect little slope of her nose and cuddle her close. It’s almost scary how much you love her.
“Sweet dreams, bunny,” you whisper, backing out of the nursery and padding down the hall to your bedroom. When you get there, Andrei’s got his legs out of bed, his feet on the floor, and he’s pulled on a pair of cut-off sweat shorts. He’s still wearing the GIRL DAD hat, but it’s flipped backwards now, making him look sinfully hot. He scrubs a hand over his beard.
“Should I shave?” He asks, spreading his legs apart so you can come to stand in between them. He loops one arm around your waist and guides you so you’re sitting on his thigh.
You hum thoughtfully, cupping his cheeks and scraping your nails through the bristly hairs. They rasp against your palm and you shake your head. “I like it. Reminds me that my husband won the Stanley Cup,” you wink at him, giggling when he pulls you closer, crushing your body against his in a tight hug. He buries his face in your neck, kissing and rubbing his cheeks against your skin, chafing it.
“Couldn’t have done it without you,” he mumbles into the fabric of your sweatshirt. Andrei’s hands smooth over the side of your hip, fingers playing at the hem of your sleep shorts. Goosebumps prickle at your skin, rising up after his featherlight touches.
His fingers skim higher, higher, brushing against the crease of your thigh. You hum, threading your fingers into the hair wings formed by his hat. Andrei’s thumb swipes over your hip bone and you wiggle on his thigh, a throb pulsing between your legs. The heat in your belly almost makes you lose your mind, but an almost immediate twinge of pain follows the ache of desire and you frown.
“I’m not quite ready,” you mumble, disappointed in yourself.
“I can wait,” Andrei replies, flattening his palm over the inside of your thigh, but keeping his fingers to himself. He lies back against the mattress, pulling you with him so you’re draped over his chest, feet dangling to the floor. His arms are wrapped around your back, holding you close. “We could make-out like teenagers?”
Andrei waggles his eyebrows at you, making you laugh. You plant your hands on the mattress next to his head and kiss him, stretching your body out over his. Andrei responds happily and immediately, his cock hardening underneath you and pressing into your stomach. You hum into his mouth and one of Andrei’s hands slides over your back to come and tangle in your hair. His free hand cups your ass and lifts you a little, encouraging you to bring your legs up and straddle his hips.
“Feel so good, solnyshka,” Andrei mumbles into your mouth, kneading your ass with one hand. You kiss slowly, exploring his mouth with your tongue. Lazily, your hips rock over his erection, warmth pooling low in your stomach. He meets you hip roll for hip roll and you could almost come this way, with his hands on you and his body warm and hard under yours. Your hands tangle in his hair and Andrei lifts his hips up into yours, pressing right up against your throbbing clit.
“Andrei,” you whine his name against his jaw, reaching down between your bodies. It’s a tight fit since you’re pressed so close to him, but you wiggle your hand under your stomach and wrap your fingers around him over his shorts. He grunts at the contact and thrusts his hips up into your hand. “I can’t have you in me yet,” you sigh, peppering soft kisses over his cheeks and chin. “Let me get you off though since it’s Father’s Day and all.”
Andrei huffs a strangled laugh and slides back on the bed, taking you with him. “It’s not fun if you don’t come too, solnyshka,” he says seriously, kissing your temple. You twist your wrist a little and he groans, eyes closing and mouth falling slightly open.
“I’ll make it fun, baby,” you promise, crawling onto your knees in between his spread legs and slipping your hands beneath the waistband of his shorts. His cock is hot and hard in your hand, the skin velvety soft. You run your fingers delicately over him, enjoying the sounds Andrei’s making. “So good for me,” you murmur, “my favorite man, making my favorite noises.”
You dirty talk him through a semi-hand, semi-blow job and Andrei tries to return the favor when he convinces you to join him in the shower. He manages to nudge one finger inside of you and makes you come with his thumb pressing firmly on your clit, so all-in-all, it’s a good morning.
And that good morning makes you a little late to lunch with the parents, but they don’t mind - immediately monopolizing Evie’s attention and passing her around the table. You had custom frames made for your dad and Igor as gifts “from” Evie - they both say ‘I love my grandpa’ but Igor’s says ‘dedushka’ instead of grandpa. You added photos of each man’s first time holding Evie into the frames and you’re pretty sure the gift goes over like gangbusters. Your mom and Elena absolutely lose it over Evie’s little outfit - the tiny pair of overalls really is more adorable than it has any right being. Evie is a good sport throughout lunch, being totally chill and only have a minor freak out when she got hungry.
She falls asleep in the car on the drive to the Staals’s home and you know you’re pushing your luck by taking her to a second location and disrupting her routine even further. Andrei settles her in the wrap strapped to his chest while she’s still sleeping and you help him get her situation, both of you holding your breaths like you’re trying to dismantle a bomb. She scrunches her face briefly and then relaxes, snug against his chest.
“Oh thank god,” Andrei mutters, cradling her head in one large hand.
“You look so attractive with a baby attach to your chest,” you say, lifting the diaper bag onto your shoulder.
“If you let me put a second baby in you, I’ll be twice as attractive in nine months,” Andrei grins, teasing.
“We’ll see,” you roll your eyes, pushing open the gate to the backyard. It’s a casual barbecue, with people coming and going, but the backyard has plenty of people mingling around. Heather spots you immediately and comes over to greet you and Andrei, wishing him a happy first father’s day.
He grins, keeping one hand on Evie’s back, saying, “it’s not so big a deal in Russia, but is nice to be celebrated.”
You pipe up, “the bigger celebration was for the Cup, honestly.”
“Make sure you put that cutie in the Cup again,” Heather replies, tickling one of Evie’s exposed feet. “Jordan has it on the patio.”
Eventually you do wander over to the Cup, saying hi to everyone on the way, and getting drinks as you go. Evie’s awake by now, making little noises against Andrei’s chest and wiggling around. He takes her out of the wrap and squats by the Cup, holding Evie just above it for a second before thinking and shouting to Jordan, “you didn’t put any weird shit in here?”
Jordan snorts and shouts back, “they cleaned it up after the parade, you’re good to go.”
“Into the Cup you go,” you laugh and Andrei puts Evie into the bowl, holding her steady. “Ugh, it’s still the cutest thing I’ve ever seen.”
He grins at you and you snap a picture - later you’ll use the picture as part of your Father’s Day post for Andrei. You hang around the barbecue for a little longer, until Evie finally has the meltdown you were expecting, giving you the perfect excuse for an Irish goodbye.
Once Evie’s back in her crib, napping away, you and Andrei drop to the couch, your legs draped over his lap. “I have another surprise for you,” you say, pulling an envelope out of the back pocket of your shorts.
Andrei’s hand is clasped around your ankle and he takes the envelope in his free hand, sliding the flap open with one finger and pulling out the card inside. There’s a Superman cartoon on the front, proclaiming SUPERDAD! and Andrei huffs an amused little laugh at the image. You smile to yourself, watching him flip open the card and the way his forehead scrunches together in confusion when a tiny square photograph of Evie falls out onto his lap. “What’s this?” He asks, picking up the picture. He laughs when he sees Evie’s expression - she looks like a tiny drunk, but little does he know that it took a dozen attempts to get Evie to even look at the camera.
“Evie’s passport photo. Well, the extra one,” you explain. “She needed one to travel since we’re heading out of the country in two weeks.”
Andrei raises an eyebrow. “We are? And where are we going?”
“Russia,” you lean closer to him, kissing his cheek. “Spending the summer with your parents, showing Evie the sights of your childhood.”
“Really?” Andrei looks surprised and touched. “I didn’t think you’d…she’s little.”
“Exactly, she’s little. It’s easy to travel with her when she’s so tiny,” you explain. “I planned everything out with your mom. You just have to pack a bag.”
Andrei cups your cheek in his hand and kisses you sweetly. “Thank you, solnyshka. Best gift ever.”
“Fitting, since you’re the best dad and husband ever,” you crawl into his lap and rest your wrists on his shoulders. “I can’t wait to see you with her as she gets older.”
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pbandjesse · 1 year
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It was our last farmers market today! There weren't a lot of people. and it was bitterly cold. But it was a good day. I was happy.
Me and James got scared awake last night when some stuff fell off the wall and clattered on the ground. Thankfully it did not break. But it was scary.
James waited for me so we could go to work together. I got dressed and we headed out and it was very cold. But I was optimistic.
We got to the museum and James was already a little stressed out because there was a big party tonight and they've already setting up at 7:00 a.m. which is insane. Honestly everyone felt very stressed out and a little out of sorts and a little annoyed with this party. Because they have been coming around for a month getting ready to set up. And like I get it but like also we are still a museum that is open to the public. So when they started covering up our signage with their own signage, including signs that have museum information and didactics, we all kind of felt some kind of way.
But I was mostly outside so I didn't have to actually deal with it. So I did hear a lot from Stanley and Ann and Jordan and James as they would come outside to say hi.
I was very excited today because there were girl scouts selling cookies. I didn't think they sold cookies in the fall! But they did and I was very excited and I got four boxes.
And I didn't sell much today. I broke even. But it was a good time. And I was just really cold. And so it was hard to like focus on anything besides trying to be warm. Eventually the Sun we move enough that I was getting at least a little warm in my chair. But I mostly just focused on my knitting. And I got all caught up. And I got to show everyone and that was cool. They won't see it again until it's totally finished. I am just really glad that I was able to make it while I was there.
And like I said I broke even. I made two sales. But it was a very slow. I ended up calling dad to tell him a story about how I found a alcoholics anonymous big book on eBay for $27,000. Because it was signed and a rare printing. It was printed in the wrong size because it was in world war II while they were rationing and it was supposed to be printed at a quarter size. It was printed up the full size and so they only printed it for like one or two months. And it's just very very rare. And I thought that was really interesting. So I wanted to share it with Dad.
I would go inside to warm up and say hello to James. And I took a walk around the museum to see what this event was doing. They put their own cases in all of the exhibits. And there were like a million chairs in the big hall. And it was just a little wild. And obviously James was very stressed out about it. Plus there was a birthday party happening. And the museum was just open. So it was a lot. Honestly we probably should not have charged for tickets today because of all the inconvenience. If we were going to stay open they should have done something like that but whatever.
I really wanted to go home now. I would have to come back to the museum at 4:00 and I was just really tired. Specifically from being so cold. And my leg really hurt from getting caught yesterday. I was just really ready to go.
I'm right before 1:00 everyone packed up and we all said until next time. It doesn't have to be goodbye.
I wanted to say goodbye to my James though and gave them a hug and told them I was going to get a sandwich before going back to the house. But that ended up not working out because I could not find a parking space I was so tired and I decided I would get it on my way back.
I got home around 1:30 and pretty much just took all my clothes off, put on a sweater, and laid down.
I slept until 3:00. And got up and shook off my sleepy head. It was a very good nap. Sweetp was all cuddled up with me and I was very cozy. And when I got up I got redressed. I make up was still fine and I headed out.
This time I was able to get a parking space and I got Jimmy John's. And I went over to the museum. Me and James sat in the back office and talked while I had my sandwich. And then they left. And I went to go check in with Angie and Kristen.
And honestly the night was great. I had a great time talking to Kristen and Angie. And I made a chase for printing all night but I ended up not liking it so I made a new one. Which is the one that's pictured above. And I really like how it came out. This company was having a very very large party and while the setup and stuff was very annoying The people themselves were really nice. And I had a great night.
When the party got started people started coming in slowly and when they realized what I was doing they were getting really excited and going out and telling people. Eventually the woman that put the party on came in and she was so excited. She was like I didn't know you were going to be doing this this is so exciting. And I'm just felt really good. I would print a bunch of business card sized pieces for them and at the end of night I packed them up. And I really think that it was a really successful night.
Once the party guests went to eat dinner me Angie and Kristen ate hors d'oeuvres that were left and we gossiped and talked for a while. And she's getting ready for our company/museum Christmas party and it's going to be like casino themed which is pretty cool. And she picked our brain for prize ideas. But we couldn't come up with any good ones so we just kept giving her dumb ones. Like a signed photo of Angie. Or a $7 chocolate bar. Or tickets to the museum. She said they were all terrible ideas.
At 7:00 we were able to go home. Starting an hour earlier kind of suck but going home and hour earlier is much nicer. And it was a pretty quick drive home.
I was a little disappointed when I walked in the house and all of our Christmas lights were not on. But James put them on pretty quickly after that. We sat on the couch together for a little while. And then I went to take a shower and wash my hair.
Now I am waiting for James to make me a little quesadilla. And then I will go and dry my hair and get ready for bed.
Tomorrow I plan on cleaning the apartment and then Callie's coming over around lunch time. I have some stuff for her to go through to see if she wants it before I donate it. And then maybe we'll get lunch. Who knows. I am looking forward to a next day off with her.
I hope you all have a great night tonight. Stay warm because it's going to get much colder tomorrow. It's the first 30° day of the season. It'll be nice to have a new blue line on my blanket.
Good night everyone.
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Gravity Falls Beyond the Woods Chapter Ten
Wendy deals with the fallout while Rose is determined to solve the family mystery. 
Rated T for suggestive humor.   
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Wendy laid on the bed, slightly out of breath and her hair a mess. “So, round four?” She asked her husband.
Dipper was sitting on the edge of the bed trying to catch his breath. “Give me a minute,” Dipper said between heavy breaths. “Gaaa, I need a sports drink.”
Wendy’s phone rang. It was her dad. She sighed, it was fun while it lasted. “Hey Dad, are the kids behaving?” The color drained from her face. “What?!”
The pain had stopped; mostly. Her eyes were still red and runny as her dad was looking at her wrist. The edge of the bracelet molded into her skin. He looked into the Amethysts and saw strange symbols floating in the jewels. Dipper sighed. “Well, it’s definitely magic.”
Rose looked desperately at her father. “You can get it off right?”
“Of course, I’m sure we’ll think of something.”
Wendy paced as her husband examined their daughter. Looking at her daughter; that thing on her wrist. Wendy had never been more scared in her life.
“Rosie, we’ll… we’ll figure it out.”
Rose looked at the bracelet. She snuffled. “At least, this proves my theory about grandma.”
You could feel the chill as it ran through the room. “What?” Wendy asked.
“Yeah! Mom, Grandma didn’t run away! Something magical must have happened to her. This bracelet proves it.”
“Your Grandma walked out on us. That bracelet doesn’t mean…”
“Ugh, why do you always do this?! I finally… finally found a mystery. An actual magical mystery, and you completely dismiss it! You always do this! You get me banned from games! You suffocate me at school. And you spend half the time walking around home naked!”
“First off, it’s called naturism and it’s incredibly liberating. Second, It’s not like half the time. It’s more like 20 percent of the time.”
“75 percent.” Dipper corrected. He cleared his throat when he caught his wife’s glare. “What your mother is trying to say, that solving mysteries can be dangerous, so what we’re going to do is wait for Grunkle Ford and Grunkle Stan to arrive, then while Mom and I work with them, you’ll stay safe with Aunt Mabel.”
Rose looked at her father with a look of betrayal. “But, but Dad! I’m as old as you were when you saved the world!”
“Your Grunkle’s Stan and Ford saved the world.”
“You helped.”
“I almost got myself killed.”
Rose was at her breaking point. “Come on. Mom, don't you care what happened to Grandma?”
“SHE ABANDONED US! ALL OF US!”
Dipper placed a hand on his wife’s shoulders. “Rose, Ty go to your room. Ford should be here tomorrow. Please try to get some sleep.”  
Shortly after Mabel burst through the door. “What happened to my baby?!” With her were Pacifica and their own kids. Stanley looked sleepy while Ashley looked confused. Behind them was Soos and his youngest, Josh. Confused as to what’s going on but eager to help.
Dipper sat his sister down, and started explaining the situation to her and Paz. Wendy smiled at her niece and nephew and helped them settle into her old room.
Rose looked out her window defeated. Why did her Mom have to be like this? She reached her hand to the stars and the amethyst on the bracelet started glowing. She jumped back startled. The glow faded. She reached outside; it came back. A grin appeared on her face. Jackpot.
She quickly changed into some jeans and her favorite shirt. A lavender shirt with a cute duck on it. She quickly shoved pillows under her sheets. She tipped toed to where her brother was sleeping.
“Rose what are you-”
“Look,” She held her wrist up, “It’s signaling toward the forest. Let’s go check it out.”
Ty looked nervous. “What about Mom and Dad?”
“You saw how they acted, we'll never be allowed to check this out. This could be our one chance to solve a big Gravity Falls mystery."
Tyrone sighed. He knew what this meant to his sister. "Alright, I'll get dressed."
Ashley peaked out of her door. "We’re sneaking out?" Rose nodded. “Cool.”
She and Stanley followed as Josh joined them. “Hey what’s going on?”
“We are sneaking out. Do you know why all the adults are freaking out about some jewelry getting stuck on Rose’s arm?” Ashley asked.
“Because they’re stupid.” Rose opened the back door.
Wendy took a deep breath. This day had been rough, but that was no excuse for yelling at Rose. She gave a knock on Rose’s door as she opened it. “Hey Rose, I just want to apologize for… for losing my temper.”  She sat on the bed. “When you Grandmother left, it broke me. I always felt like I was missing something. And I-and I didn’t want you to feel that. I know that I can be clingy or overprotective. But I just didn’t want you to feel how I felt, like-like I wasn’t good enough for my Mom. I love you Rosie and you’re not even here are you?”
Wendy pulled back the blanket to reveal a pile of pillows. She sighed. “So now I know how Dad felt.”
Dry grass crunched underneath their feet as the kids went towards the woods. Rose was in front, the glow of the jewel guiding her. Ashley, holding her brother’s hand, kept pace while Tyrone tried to flirt with Josh behind them.
“I’m surprised your parents got you a shirt with your stomach out,” Ashley said.
Rose blushed, pulling her shirt down, failing to cover her exposed navel. She said, “It wasn’t when we bought it.”
Ashley felt immediately bad. Her cousin was nearly as tall as her. And she was at that age where growth spurts hit you like a truck. Of course she would be self conscious about it. “Look I didn’t mean-” Before she had a chance to apologize a glowing mushroom popped out of the ground. In fact a whole circle of them wrapped around the kids.
“Rose! Tyrone!” Wendy shouted as she ran through the field. She and all the other adults were looking for the missing kids.
“Wendy look!” Dipper pointed at a purple light. Rose, Tyrone and all the other kids were standing there. Rose was pushing at what seemed to be a force field but unable to get through it.
Wendy's voice reached a fever pitch. “Rose!” With a big flash, the kids were gone.
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stoneworldsimp · 3 years
Text
i don’t kiss and tell
stanley x reader
warnings: mildly intrusive thoughts, anxiousness, heavy kissing, smoking cigarettes
he can see the target through the lens, but his hand won’t keep steady,
“snyder, hold on, they’re behind us! FUCK—“
you need to wake up.
stanley’s brain was suddenly awake, and it took him a few seconds to force his body to move. he lightly trembled as he made his way out of his fucked up dream, slowly realizing that no, he’s not out in some high-ground area about to shoot. he’s at home, laying in bed with you at his side. god, this is what, the fourth time this week? once his eyes open he looked over to your face; even through the darkness, he knew he didn’t wake you.
a few minutes passed, and he wiped his face with his hand; he wasn’t going back to sleep any time soon. he cautiously shifted out from under the covers and left the bed, making his way toward the bathroom. he kept the light off and splashed water on his face as quietly as possible.
he didn’t have to be so careful, really; the bathroom was basically soundproof and you slept like a rock most nights anyway. but… he couldn’t shake the feeling he had in his dream. he looked behind the shower curtain with his phone’s flashlight before he left and kept it on when he looked behind himself while he walked out of your room.
i.. i’ll just have one from that pack, and then i’ll go to bed. yeah, okay. one smoke. and then go to bed. anything to shake this off and out of my mind.
in his jacket, he took a cigarette out, walking toward the back door while he lit it.
with his arms crossed, he placed them on the fence of the balcony and rested his chin on his forearm. he blew a puff of smoke when he sighed. that’s better.
for a while, he stared at the stars and the buildings nearby. it was so quiet for the area, there wasn’t even a faint breeze going around. he leaned forward in his chair, the back two legs lifting up off the ground. he could live in this quietness forever, if he could.
footsteps were heard behind him, and he visibly tensed up before he realized they belonged to you. shit, i’m not done with it yet. “sorry,” he said quietly. he took the cigarette out of his mouth and stamped it into the ashtray. the damage was worse than he thought; as he glanced at his pack, he realized that was his third cigarette of the night. slowly he turned around to give you a small smile. he took the pack and slipped it in his jacket pocket while he blew the last of the lingering smoke from the edge of his mouth, making sure it went away from you. you came out in a baggy shirt and shorts, your hair a mess and eyes sleepy.
“it’s okay. i don’t mind,” you replied, and he knew it was a lie. “are you coming back to bed soon? it’s awfully lonely.”
“miss me already?” he asked while he turned his head back around, looking out again.
“‘course i do,” you muttered, your voice closer. you reached out and lightly squeezed his shoulder.
he was thankful to have someone like you; you never pushed him too far, you were always there when something bothered him, you just knew how he worked. he wasn’t the talkative type, but you were more than okay with that; it was almost like you could read his body language anyway.
“i couldn’t sleep.”
you hummed. he felt your hand stroke the back of his head, and leaned into your touch while closing his eyes.
he reached behind and pulled lightly on your hand, inviting you to sit on him; you made your way onto his lap, your leg on either side of his as you sat face to face. his hands slid to your sides; they gently moved up and back down. silence was still shared when you played with the ends of his hair on the back of his head. some time had passed and you inspected his face, searching for any indication of what might be going through his head. you knew something was up, you just didn’t know what. did something happen to him at work? is he thinking about.. before? he hoped he was hiding it, he didn’t want you to worry; at least for the evening. “do you, uhm, wanna talk about it?”
he was nervous to tell you; the whole reason why he was awake was silly, now that he thought about it. he got out of bed because he couldn’t sleep, he didn’t feel at ease until he went outside to smoke what was accidentally three cigarettes in one sitting, all because of a recurring dream. not from something actually pressing in real life; from a dream. it’s almost stupid, he thought; he wanted to avoid the conversation altogether.
he tipped his head down ever so slightly, breaking eye contact for a second before he met your eyes again.
he removed his hands from your waist and enveloped them over your forearms; calloused fingertips trailed down to your wrists, softly grabbing them. he moved your hands to the front of his face, touching both sides of his jaw. with a subtle push, you knew he wanted you to keep them on his face when he let go. one of his hands then slid behind your ear, pulling you in for a kiss on the corner of your mouth.
he was surprised when you went and kissed him on the lips; normally you would have been less than ecstatic to even talk to him up close right after he smoked. he broke away, wordlessly asking if you were okay to keep going. you leaned in and kissed him again.
you had a feeling it wasn’t the healthiest to avoid his inner turmoil like this, but you were tired. you wanted him to feel good enough to go to bed again, even if that meant avoiding the actual issue until tomorrow.
each kiss was lazy and long at the start. lips trailed down your neck while hands wandered to your lower, lower back. every touch under his hands became plush; he grasped and squeezed, each movement just a little rougher than the last. each strained breath was music to his ears.
this was helping, he thought; he was close to getting carried away before he stopped. the both of you were panting, and you spoke up first after catching your breath.
“let’s go to sleep?” you asked, and he nodded.
stanley’s head rested in your chest; you kissed him on the head.
i probably won’t have that dream again, but.. what if i do?
it probably won’t.
yeah, it won’t. just stop thinking about it.
i’ll be fine, just don’t think about it.
it’ll leave once you stop—
“stan, you’re… gripping me a little hard.” you tapped his tensed wrists on your hips, wordlessly asking him to let go
“i’m sorry, i’m sorry.” he let go immediately, almost withdrawing his entire body, “i, uhm… i..”
“let’s talk about it tomorrow. yeah?”
he breathed out in relief, and nodded his head slowly. in a way, your words subconsciously let his mind feel at ease by convincing himself, he didn’t have to deep dive into his mental state until tomorrow. he’d be able to hold it off, at least until tomorrow.
“love you.”
stanley wrapped his arm around you and buried his face deeper into your chest, close enough for you to kiss the top of his head. slightly muffled from his hair, you told him again in a whisper.
“love you.”
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Text
Waiting For You Part Six (Ford Pines x Reader) Home In Your Arms
She awoke before the dawn as usual. Under the blankets was warm. Although the boat was cold Ford’s body, which was firmly pressed against hers, provided plenty of heat. The gentle swaying of the boat would have made it easy to fall back asleep, but since the weather was supposed to be clear today, she decided to get up and watch the sunrise.
Gently slipping out of the covers, and out of Ford’s grasp, she quickly dresses into more layers before quietly stalking up on the deck. She could still hear the heavy breaths and snores coming from the cabin below. The deck was even colder than the cabin, and there was a layer of frost on the upper windows. She quickly made a cup of coffee then downed it, then leaned against the front railing, and waited for the sunrise as the clouds on the horizon turned pink.
She was lost in thought, so when someone wrapped their arms around her waist she jumped. The person behind her chuckled and she let out a sigh.
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.” Ford’s lips are right next to her ears, his stubble is scratchy on her skin.
She lets out a hum, then turns around in his arms to face him. “You could still be sleeping.”
He begins to plant gentle kisses to her cheek. “Couldn’t without you.”
She giggles and places a hand on his cheek, her thumb runs over his stubble.
“Why are you up so early?” He almost whines against her skin, still leaving soft kisses on the small amount of skin exposed on her cheeks and upper neck.
She let out a content sigh. “Weather is supposed to be clear. I wanted to watch the sunrise. Would you like to join me?”
He moves his head up and presses his forehead to hers. “I’d love to.”
She leans forward the inch she needs to so she can plant a kiss on Ford’s lips. It’s soft, but conveys so many feelings. Love, affection, the sense of being home.
Ford tries to lean forward for another kiss but she quickly turns around. He lets out an exasperated sigh.
“Sorry, but the sun rises this way.” She teases.
Ford’s hand is on the back of her neck, moving the hair away from it so he can press more kisses to her skin.
“You’re in a very touchy mood this morning.” She comments, leaning her back against his chest.
“Do you want me to stop?” He murmurs, lips still on her skin.
“No,” she quickly tells him. “Just an observation.”
He leaves a few more kisses on her skin before her hand wraps around his. “Ford, look.”
The sun had just peaked above the horizon, brilliant oranges and yellow began to fill the sky, casting warm rays of light on the small sleepy fishing village they had docked near. Soon the warm rays fell onto her face. “Isn't it beautiful?”
“Not more so than you.” Ford tightens his grip around her waist and rests his chin against the top of her head.
She’s glad Ford can’t see the blush on her face. Even after thirty plus years had passed, he could still make her blush. She was about to say something modest back to Ford until she heard a burp and scratching noises.
“Ugh, get a room.” Stanley had obviously joined them on deck.
“We have a room.” She rolls her eyes. “I think you forget we share sometimes. Your memory is slipping old man.” She teases without moving from Ford’s grip.
“Yeah, yeah.” He waves her comment away before heading inside the upper cabin to the coffee she had prepared.
There's a moment of peace, you might almost call it pure bliss. To spend the sunrise wrapped in your lover's arms, their warm breath leaving them in clouds of hot air, the boat gently rocking them as the morning tide rolled in.
“Everytime I wrap my arms around you, it feels like coming home all over again, to where I belong.” Ford whispers.
She turns to face him again and cups his face with both her hands, and kisses the tip of his nose. “When did you become so romantic?”
Ford leans into her touch. “I mean it.” He pauses for a second. “I don’t think I ever told you, but when I first came back and saw you, my first thought was that I had died and gone to heaven. Being with you again is everything I’ve ever wanted and more.”
“If you had died and gone to heaven then that would have meant Stan was in your heaven too.” She laughs.
“He’s still her now.” He grabs her hand to hold it still so he can tilt his head and kiss her thumb.
She laughs even louder this time, then wraps her arms around his neck to draw him into another kiss. “I love being in your arms. I love being your home, because you’re mine too.”
The boat rocks them gently as the morning sun warms their bodies. Their hearts are full of love for one another. “Let’s stay like this forever, and just let the world drift away.”
Ford is about the respond before Stan interrupts.
“Hey love birds! We gonna explore some anomalies today or what?” Stan barks from behind them.
Ford's eyebrows furrow and he goes to turn his head to snap at Stanley, but her hands catch his chin and turn his face back to her. She kisses him passionately three times and he’s breathless. She untangles herself from Ford and heads towards Stan.
“What’s on the agenda for today co-captain Stanley?” She smiles.
Ford is left standing there speechless and in a daze.
“Are you coming, co-captain Ford?”
Ford looks over at her. She squinting her eyes as the morning sun washes over her features, her cheeks pink from the cold. He has never been more in love with her.
“Coming, associate co-captain.”
---------- By the time the sun was high in the sky he three of them had docked the boat and climbed halfway up the mountain. The town folks had told them about strange flying creatures that lived near the top of the mountain.
The sun beat down on them, and they soon found themselves needing to take off some of the many layers of winter clothes they had dressed in for the day. About an hour into the hike Stan speaks up.
“Hey poindexter, how bout a break?” He huffs as he wipes sweat from his brow.
“We’re very close to where the creatures were reported being seen.” Ford is warm, sweat gleams on his brow, but his attitude is chipper and he’s not as nearly out of breath.
“Even the kid needs a break.” Stan motions towards her.
She rolls her eyes at Stan still calling her a kid. She’s also out of breath, almost as bad as Stan. The high altitude is getting to her, but she wouldn’t voice it.
Ford places a hand on her shoulder. “What do you think? Would you like to take a short rest.”
She smiles and nods. “Let’s take a short rest. We wouldn’t want Stan passing out on us.”
Stan grunts but doesn’t say anything. Glad to finally have a break from hiking. The three of them sit on the ground and drink their water. Ford is sitting as close as he can to her. She shivers as a cold breeze blows past them, feeling a little cold now that they have stopped moving. Ford wraps an arm around her shoulder, she looks up at him and smiles a wordless thank you.
After a few minutes they stand up and begin to get moving again. She groans as she stretches, and once they start moving again she is behind both the boys on the path.
“You alight? You’re normally faster than me.” Stan turns his head to talk to her while they move up the narrow mountain path.
“I’m fine, my legs are just a bit sore.” She tells him.
They continue their hike until they break through the tree line. They can see the horizon on the sea, and far below them is the small fishing village where they left the Stan O’ War II docked.
She’s stunned by the beautiful view and almost doesn’t realise Stan and Ford haven’t stopped walking like she had. She scurries to catch up to them, until she sees a bush near her shake. Looking over she sees a small head of a rat pop out.
“Aww.” She says softly to not scare the rodent away. “Hey little fella.” She coos.
The rat scurried back into the bush at the sound of her voice, much to her disappointment. She turns to catch up to the boys, After a few steps she hears a strange sound. Somewhere between a squeak and a squawk. Turning around she sees the rat has raised itself out of the bush with a pair of wings. This must be the creature they had been looking for!
“Fascinating!” She says to herself and pulls out her sketchbook and begins to jot down a quick doodle on the animal. The sun catches on her silvery pen and flashes a light up at the rat-like creature. It squawks loudly then dives towards her.
Further up the path Ford is mumbling to himself and Stan is tuning him out. Both of them freeze when they hear a shriek. They both stop dead in their tracks and whip around to see she is no longer behind either of them. The brothers share a second of a glance before booking it back down the trail.
It doesn’t take them long to get back to her. When she comes into sight they can see she's using one arm to shield her face, the other is holding her notebook and waving it aimlessly behind her, trying to hit the creature that’s attacking her hair.
Stan is the first to her, he pulls her to his chest with one arm and throws a left hook at the creature, sending it crashing into a tree. There's a moment of silence before Ford is pulling her into his arms. Stan makes his way over towards the tree.
“What happened? I thought you were right behind us?” Ford’s hands are on her face, tilting her head around and looking for any sign of injury. Her hands rest on his chest.
“Ford, I’m okay, promise. You were both further up the path when I noticed the creature. I thought if I called to you I’d scare it off. So I tried to get a quick sketch, and I must have scared it because it started attacking my hair.” She can’t help as a laugh escapes her.
“You could have been hurt.” Ford’s voice is soft as he scoulds her.
“But I wasn’t.” She teases.
“Please promise me you won’t go off on your own again? I don’t know what I’d do if you got hurt.” Ford told her seriously.
She stops smiling when she realises Ford is actually upset, not with her, but by the fact she could have been hurt. She takes his hands, which were still on her face, and holds them in hers. She leans up and gives him a soft, reassuring kiss.
“I promise.” She whispers.
“Check this out!” Stan shouts and holds the unconscious ratbird in between them by its feet.
She shrieks with surprise and jumps away from Ford. “Stanley that’s disgusting!”
“What!? I thought you like rodents!” He laughs, shaking the bird closer towards her as she takes another step back.
“I wouldn’t pick up a wild rat or bird with my hands, or let it that close to my face! Who knows where that thing has been!” She scolds him. “If it wakes up and bites you I’m not helping you.”
In the commotion Ford slipped on some protective gloves from his pack. “Hold it still please Stanley.” Stan complies and Ford gently stretches its wings open and begins to list off observations about it that she quickly sketches down. “It’s wingspan is too small to carry it far. That’s probably why it is native only to this island.” He lists other things off like teeth size and tail length.
Stan gently set the animal down. “Think that’s enough for today right?”
The other two agree and they begin their trek back down the mountain. She is in front of them now to set the pace, and so the boys can’t lose sight of her. When the path begins to get wider, Ford falls back a bit to walk besides Stan.
“Thank you for earlier.” Ford tells his brother.
Stan looks at him confused. “Didn’t do nothing.”
“You were able to get to her first and protect her from the rat bird.” Ford reminds him.
Stan waves it off. “Don’t mention it.” Stan wouldn’t admit to Ford how scared he was to see her get attacked like that, he’d rather not think about it.
When they make it back to the ship the sun is already touching the horizon. It was Ford’s night to cook and the other two went to rest in their beds. When the food was ready Ford headed below deck to find them both asleep. He wasn’t surprised Stan had nodded off. Almost anytime he wasn’t actively moving or engaged in an activity he would fall asleep. But his believed fiance would normally be reading a book or be annotating her notes.
He gently brushes some hair out of her face and she stirs. She smiles up at him and grabs his hand and brings it down to her lips to kiss his palm. His heart flutters at her sweet act.
“I fell asleep.” She murmurs, voice heavy with sleep.
“I noticed.” He leans down to kiss her. “Are you feeling alright?”
“I feel perfect now that you’re here.” She giggles and he frowns. She frowns too, but only to mock him. “I feel fine Stanford. I guess today was just too exciting is all.”
“Well, why don’t we have dinner then we can go right back to bed?” He suggested.
“You’re perfect. I love you” She smiles up at him, eyes half lidded.
“I love you too.”
They stare into each other's eye, and neither of them notice the loud snoring has stopped. There’s a loud groan announcing Stan has awoken.
“If you love him so much why don’t you marry him?” Stan teases, she rolls her eyes.
The next morning Ford is the first to wake up. His love is tucked close to his side, buried under the blankets. He turns on his side to draw her impossibly closer. She makes a noise at the movement but doesn't awaken.
The bed feels a little warmer than normal. Maybe the day will be warmer than the forecast had predicted Ford thinks. Ford lays there for a while, enjoying the silence and warmth for a while until she begins to stir.
He feels her stretch under his grasp and she looks up at him eyes still droopy from sleep.
“Good morning my dear. Would you like to join me for some coffee?” Ford murmurs into her hair.
She shakes her head no. “It’s too cold.” She tries to burrow closer to Ford to get any extra warmth.
“I’ll go turn the heater on upstairs, join me when you’re ready.” Ford moves the hair away from her forehead and kisses her there then freezes. He moves the back of his hand to her forehead, then his cheek to confirm his thought. “You’re burning up!”
“No, it’s cold.” She denies.
“You must have a fever. Do you feel alright? When did you start feeling sick?” Ford doesn’t bother keeping his voice down and clearly wakes up his brother.
Stan rolls his eyes at the commotion and makes his way to the upper deck.
Ford quickly stands. “I’m going to get dressed then go find a doctor in town. With a town this small there must be one to make house calls.”
“Ford, please, there’s no need for that.” She sniffs, still laying in the bed, pulling the covers closer around her.
“There really isn’t.” Stan grumbled, coming back down the stairs, a cup of water in one hand. The other was full of an assortment of pills. “Take these.” He gruffly shoved both the water and pills at her. She obeyed, sat up, and quickly tooked the unknown pills Stan had handed her. “Go back to sleep.” She layed down and closed her eyes, rolling over to face the wall away from the brothers.
“What did you give her?” Ford whispered, concerned.
Stan places a finger over his lips and motions towards the upper deck. They sit inside the cabin where Stan had turned on the space heater.
“She of course came prepared and packed herself cold medicine.” Stan slides the first aid box across the table so Ford can examine the medicine boxes of everything he had given her. “Almost every winter she gets a cold or two. Her legs start to hurt and she gets really tired. Should have seen it coming’ yesterday but was a little distracted by the birds. She must have noticed, but she never says anything. Thinks she can power through a fever.” Stan pauses a moment to laugh. “There was one time I caught her working on the portal shivering and sweating’ bucket. Practically had to drag her back to bed. The older we’ve gotten through, the less stubborn she’s gotten at admitting she’s actually sick.”
It finally dawns on Ford just how much Stanley had taken care of her while he was gone. Sure, she had told Ford directly that he had, but he thought she was just putting in a good word for her friend. Ford knows it to be true now. He remembers once in college she went to class with a fever just to be sent back to her dorm. If Stan hadn’t been here to make her rest when she was sick, she would have worked herself until she passed out or worse.
The cabin is silent for a moment.
“Thank you, Stan.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“No, Stanley, listen.” Ford looks at his brother and there are visible tears in his eyes. “She had told me before that you had taken care of her in my absence. I hadn’t thought much about it, since she's always been so strong and independent. I know she's also stubborn. If you hadn’t been there to make her rest… Thank you Stanley, truly, for taking care of her while I was gone.” Ford places his hand on his brother’s shoulder and gives it a firm squeeze. Stan returns the action, not commenting on the noticeable tears.
“She’d probably be happy to have you back downstairs to keep her warm.” Stan says, looking away from his brother. He doesn't want to see him cry, or he knows he will cry as well.
“I think you’re right.” Ford stands and goes to join her back in bed.
---------- Ford wasn’t exactly excited to go to the carnival on the boardwalk, but her and Stan conveyed it would be fun.
“It’ll be like the one back home! Remember when we tried to join the circus with our pet possum?” Stan laughed a deep belly laugh as they made their way past the ticket booth.
“You never told me you had a pet possum.” She's walking next to Ford, his hand is held tight in hers.
“But he told you about trying to join the circus?” Stan inquires.
“I’d argue he was more your pet than mine.” Ford argues.
They make their way around the attractions, eat some fair food, and play a few games. She has two stuffed animals they boys had won for her in her hands, and is filled with joy.
“You there, miss, would you like to know your future?” A voice calls to her, and she turns to see a fortune teller beckoning her towards their tent. The fortune teller's eyes are glassy and they don’t hold her gaze, they hold a long cane indicating they are blind. She feels an arm tighten around her shoulder.
“Fortune tellers aren’t to be trusted.” Ford tells her.
“It’s just for fun,” she comments. “There’s no way they could actually know my future.”
“I’ve traveled to different dimensions. I think almost anything is possible at this point.” Ford reminds her.
“I say we do it. I’d like to know when I get filthy rich.” Stan begins walking into the tent.
She tried to follow in after him but the fortune teller held up their hand. “Only one person inside the tent at a time please.”
So Ford and her wait outside the tent. It’s only a few minutes later when Stan exits with a huff. “You’re right, total scam, they don't know anything.”
The fortune teller exits the tent again and points over to her and Ford. “The six fingered one next.” Then enters the tent.
A chill runs up her spine. The teller was clearly blind, but to call Ford out like that. She shares a surprised look with Ford, who surprisingly goes into the tent after them.
Stan is clearly still mad about whatever he had been told, so she takes his hand. “I’m sure whatever they said it wasn’t true. Like you said, probably just a scam.”
Stan looks down at her warm smile and sighs. “You’re right kid. Just a scam. I should know.” They both share a laugh.
Ford exits the tent looking lost in thought.
“You’re next girly.” The teller holds open the flap for the tent and she makes her way in. The room looks bigger on the inside and there are two chairs on either side of a table with a fake looking crystal ball.
She sits and watches the fortune teller places their hands on the ball and thinks for a second before speaking. The ball lights up and smoke swirls around in it. “I would ask what you’d like to know about your future, but I already know what knowledge you seek. It weighs heavy on your heart. Knowing the truth might be even more of a burden. Would you still like to know?”
She thinks for a second. If the fortune teller was being honest and knew what she wanted to know, what she always thinks about, then she wants to know. “Will Ford and Stan die before me? I don’t think I could lose Ford again, and well, Stan is my best friend.”
The teller nods their head and hums. “As I suspected. Losing the ones you love is a heavy buren. Unfortunately you must bear the burden again, fortunately you only must bear it once.”
“Who?” Her voice quivers.
“As I said, losing someone you love is difficult, as you know. He cannot see his brother lost again. He will go first. You will be needed to comfort the six fingered one. This universe isn’t always fair, but it seems it will go easy on you, and you will not have to lose him again.” They remove their hand from the ball and the lights and smoke fade. “Now you know, you must live with this knowledge the rest of your life.”
She looks down at her hands and nods, then stands to exit the tent. She finds her boys standing exactly where she left them. Still looking lost in thought and a little angry. She pulls Ford into a hug and draws him from his thoughts.
“What did they tell you?” Ford asks, returning the hug.
She rests her chin on his chest to look up at him with a small smile. “That I’ll get to spend the rest of my life with you, and that’s all I want.”
“They really tell you that?” Stan grunts, clearly not happy with what he was told.
“No,” she confesses. “But they didn’t have to say that for me to know it, and-” She turns to look back at the tent and sees it's gone. She turns quickly to confirm what she sees if real. Then turns back to the twins, whose jaws are dropped.
The three share a look then agree to head back to the ship for the night.
Stan tosses and turns that night. He can’t seem to sleep. What the fortune teller had told his replays in the back of his mind and he’s still pissed about it. He throws off the sheets and puts on his coats and boots and heads to the upper deck. To his surprise, he wasn’t alone.
“Why are you up so late kid?” Stan slumps down onto the bench by her.
“I imagine for the same reason you can’t sleep.” She leans her head against her friend with her sigh.
There's a moment of silence between them. The only sound is the waves gently crashing on the nearby shore and the soft groan of the boat as it moves gently with the sea.
“What did they tell you?” They ask in unison. They both breath out a laugh.
“You first.” She says.
He thinks for a moment. “They told me I’m going to die before you and Ford. Ford, I get, he’s healthy and in shape.” She elbows him. “Not implying you ain’t! It’s just, I didn’t want to die before you is all. I’ve caused you enough suffering.”
She places her hand on his shoulder. “Stanley, don’t think like that. You haven’t caused me any suffering. You’re my best friend.”
He runs his hands down his face. “It’s my fault Ford got lost in the portal for thirty years, it’s my fault you didn’t get to start a family with him like you had planned to. It’s my fault you didn’t get to get married yet. It’s my fault that-”
“Stanley!” She shouts sternly at him and he turns to face her, surprised by the authority in her voice. She takes his hand in hers. “Stan you can’t think like that. You know I’ve forgiven you a long time ago with what happened with Ford. The rest of it… It doesn’t matter, because if it weren’t for you I wouldn’t have him back. If it weren’t for you I wouldn’t have met the most amazing great niece and nephew ever. If it weren’t for you I wouldn’t be sailing the seas right now with the two people I care the most about in the world, discovering amazing anomalies like I’ve always wanted to.”
Stan’s face is turned from hers but he gives her hand that’s holding his a tight squeeze. There's another moment of silence. “What did they tell you?” His voice croaks, she wouldn’t mention how he reached his free hand up to wipe his tears.
“They told me about the same.” She confesses. “That you’ll die before me, but I’ll be here for Ford.”
Stan Turns back to look at her. “Do you…” Stan doesn’t really want to finish the thought. He doesn’t want to think about their mortality.
“I’ll go before Ford. They said it was the universe going easy on me.” She smiles up at Stan, but the smile doesn't reach her eyes.
He pulls her into a tight hug. “Should we tell Ford?” She sniffs as tears sting her eyes.
“No. He wouldn’t want to know.”
----------- “Do you hear that?” Stan asks.
Ford and her are both sitting at the table noses in a book in the upper cabin of the ship. She and Ford listen, share a glance with each other, then look back at Stan.
“No,” they chime in unison.
Stan is driving the boat towards their next destination where there had been reports of strange ocean tides. He smacks his ear with the hearing aid.
“I must be picking up radio waves again.” He grumbles.
An hour later the two bookworms are asleep as Stan still mans the wheel, this time he hears the sound again. His head feels hazy and his body feels warm. He turns the boat towards the sound and begins to follow it.
Ford and her are jostled awake as the ship hits a large wave. They’re both lifted for a second from their seats before landing back down with a thump.
“Stanley what the hell is happening?” Ford is the first to notice the situation. The weather around them is awful. Rain pounds onto the ship, the boat jumps as it passes over enormous waves, going faster than she's ever seen it go. Lighting and thunder crash outside. Stan should have seen the storm coming.
Speaking of Stan. He’s standing at the wheel of the ship, eyes glued forwards, he doesn’t even notice Ford yelling at him. Ford pushes Stan out of the way and he falls to the floor. Suddenly Stan sits up and looks around.
“Where the hell are we?” He asks, hand held to his head.
“We should be asking you that, seeing as you were the one driving the last two hours!” She barks before reaching under the chairs for their life vests. She tosses the boys theirs and secures her own, they quickly buckle theirs as well.
“I don’t, I don’t know what happened.” Stan looks lost for a second. “I can’t remember.”
Her heart hurts for her friend. She knows that must be scary for him but now isn’t the time for comfort. Ford begins to bark orders, she helps Stan to his feet.
They begin securing lines and sails, making sure all objects are secured down so they won’t cause the three of them harm.
Suddenly she hears a noise and freezes. Her head feels hazy and her body feels warm. It seems as if her body is moving on it’s own as she begins to walk towards the door and exits the cabin. A strong hand grabs her arm.
“What are you doing?” Ford screams over the rain. Stan had taken the wheel again.
Her eyes are glazed over and she tries to continue walking towards the railing. Ford begins to drag her back inside but she resits. She freezes and he stops trying to pull her. She turns and points.
“There.”
Ford turns to see what she’s pointing at, and it’s the largest wave he’s seen in his whole life. He quickly wraps his body around her and tries to make it back into the cabin before the wave hits, but he’s not quick enough. The water envelops their bodies and they are thrown against the railing. The ship pops back up over the waves again and Ford looks into her eyes.
She's over the railing, dangling off the ship, her only tether is Ford’s hand.
“Don’t let go! I’ve got you!” He shouts desperately holding onto her and the ship.
Her body is like a rag doll as it’s slammed into the ship with the waves. She looks back up at Ford, eyes still glazed, and lets go of his hand, falling into the inky water below.
The second her body pops back up from water her head clears. Her life jacket inflated when she hit the water. The last thing she remembers was she was on the ship with the boys. A wave overtook her and she pushed back under the water. When she comes back up she realises she hears Ford screaming.
It’s dark and all Ford can see is the automatic light on her life vest getting further and further from them. He’s screaming for her, and for Stan to move the boat in her direction.
She tries to scream for him but is pushed under water again. When her head resurfaces she struggles for a breath before the same thing happens again. Coming back up this time she sees the ship be covered by a wave, then herself. This time when she comes back up she sees the light of the ship are gone. She feels something grab her foot, and is dragged under the water.
Ford feels warmth all around him. His eyes fluttered open and he squints as rays of sun blind his eyes. Waves softly lap and his boots and he quickly sit up as the events that just unfolded flood his mind. He looks around quickly hoping to see his love, or his brother.
Stan isn’t far from him and Ford hops to his feet to run from him. He falls to his knees and sees he’s breathing, Ford begins to shake his brother. “Stanley! Are you alright?”
Stan’s hand comes up to swat his brother away. “Five more minutes.” He mumbles.
Ford doesn't hesitate to slap him across the cheek.
Stan is quick to sit up. “What the hell was that for?”
“Do you not remember what just happened?” Ford barks.
Stan’s eyes grow wide in horror. “She went overboard… Didn’t she?”
Ford slumps forward and his hands cover his face. “I had her, she was in my hands and she… She let go.”
“She let go?” Stan echos in confusion.
“She had the same look in her eyes that you did when we found you steering the ship into the storm.” Ford breathing is quick and ragged, the panic of what’s happened starts to over take him. “I… Oh god, I-,”
“Shut your yap,” Stan commands. “You hear that?”
At first all Ford can hear is the gentle crashing of the waves onto the shore, then he hears it. The distant call of a voice. A very familiar feminine voice.
Ford’s eyes frantically scan the beach both ways looking for the source when he sees her. She must have spotted him at the same time because she begins to sprint towards him. Ford is quick to his feet and meets her halfway. Ford pulls her into a crushingly tight hug as tears fill both of their eyes.
“I thought I had lost you.” He cries into her hair. “I don’t know what I would do if I had.”
“I’m okay. I’m okay.” She sobs. “We’re safe now.” She whimpers against his chest.”
They stay there in each other’s embrace, until Stan slowly walks over to them.
“Glad you’re alright kid.” Stan smiles.
She grabs Stan and pulls him into the hug. He grumbles something but hugs both of them. After a moment they pull back. Ford’s hands are still clutching the back of her wet, sandy shirt. Ford and her look at each other and share a breathy laugh, and begin to wipe the tears away from their eyes.
“Now that we’ve had that lovely reunion, where are we and where’s the ship?” Stan frowns.
“Destroyed, I'd imagine.” Ford clears his throat.
“Actually…” She takes Ford’s hand and begins to lead them down the beach the way she had come. “When I had gone overboard, my mind cleared when I hit the water. I saw the ship get taken over by a wave and thought the worst. Something grabbed my foot and dragged me under, but…”
They round the corner on the beach and see Stan O’ War II, unharmed, anchored off shore. Ford and Stan both notice some splashing around the ship that wasn’t like normal waves. The brothers share a look.
“How is it not damaged?” Ford is in awe of the vessel's perfect condition.
“Turns out, we’ve had a guardian angel this whole trip we didn’t know about.” She smiles.
“Who?” Stan asks.
“Mable.” She laughs as theirs another splash in the water, this time closer to the shore.
The brothers both see the end of a tail then a few seconds later, a head pops up.
“Ford, you might remember what Mable had written in the journal about meeting her friend, Mermando. Turns out she still writes to him and told him about our trip and asked him and his people to look out for us.” She waves over at the head that had popped up signaling to him it was safe.
“It’s the least I can do to repay my friend. If it wasn’t for her then I might still be trapped in Gravity Falls.” Mermando smiles. He had swum over to them as far as he could without leaving the water.
“A real mermaid, huh?” Stan grunts.
“Fascinating.” Ford muses.
“He and a few others were able to pull us to safety after we were lured into the storm.” She tells them.
“Lured?” Ford repeats.
“Yes, unfortunately two of you had been affected by a siren’s song. They’re like merpeople, only they crave violence.” Mermando shakes his head.
“We really can’t thank you enough.” She sighs, giving Ford’s hand a squeeze. “And please, don’t mention this to Mable. I wouldn't want her to worry.”
“She will hear nothing of it. You have my word. Farwell Pines!” And with that, Mermando splashes under the water and is gone.
“Darn it, I should have asked him some questions while I had him here.” Ford brings a hand to his mouth in thought.
She playfully shoves him. “I say we should be happy that we’re alive.”
“You know what I say?” Stan asks and begins stripping his clothes. “I say we have a beach day! Been forever since we were in a warmer climate like this!” He splashes into the water in just his underwear, leaving the other two behind.
“What do you say, my love?” Ford pulls her to his chest.
She wraps her arms around his neck. “Having a nice calm day after almost drowning to death? I think we deserve it.” She plants a soft kiss to his lips before pulling away and begins striping down to her underwear. “Race you to the water.”
Ford doesn’t have to be asked twice before he follows suit removing his clothes.
After hours of relaxing on the beach and playing in the water like children, the sun had begun to set. Stan had made his way back to the boat leaving only her and Ford on the beach.
Ford is laying on his back, her head rests against his shoulder. His arms are tightly wrapped around her. Her fingers absentmindedly trace the knit pattern on his sweater.
“I can’t believe out of anywhere I could be in the world right now, I’m here with you.” She whispers.
He hums and she can feel his chest vibrate under her cheek. She turns her head to look at him. His eyes are closed but there's a smile on his face.
“Are you asleep?” She giggles.
He hummed a sound to tell her no.
She breathes out a laugh and sits up. “Let’s head back before the sun sets all the way.”
He opens his eyes half lidded and smiles at her. She takes his hand and helps him sit up. His hands move to her face to draw her in for a kiss. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
---------- “Alright, there. I think that will work.” She places the tablet down on the table she and her boys are sat at.
“Are you sure you set it up right?” Ford asks.
She rolls her eyes. “I helped build an interdimensional portal. I think I can figure it out.”
“I just wanted to make sure. You remember what happened when you tried to set up our vhs to record Saturday Night Dead.” Ford reminds her.
“That was one time! It’s not my fault the vhs caught fire!” She huffs.
“Can you two stop arguing like an old married for a couple?” Stan groans.
Ford and her share a look and smile. Their attention is pulled away from each other when the tablet begins to make noise.
“Oh, it’s ringing!” She leans forward and presses the green answer button. “Hello? Kids, can you hear us?”
She's greeted with the sound of laughter. “You’re too close to the camera. Move back a little.” She moves back and the screen reveals Dipper and Mable.
“I told you I set it up just fine!” She pats Ford’s chest.
“Kids! It’s good to see you!” Stan greets.
“You guys look so cute in all your boat gear!” Mable squeals.
“Yeah you guys look really cool!” Dipper confirms.
“How has school been going!” Ford asks.
“Great! I got accepted into some senior level classes for next semester.” Dipper cheers.
Mable pushes dipper aside to hog the camera. “And I got a boyfriend!”
Dipper shoves Mabel back to get back in frame. “Yeah, and he’s actually not awful and kinda normal?”
“Congratulations to you both.” She smiles and leans her head against Ford’s shoulder.
They continue to talk and catch up for almost an hour.
“So we can come back to Gravity Falls next summer for sure?” Dipper inquires.
“Absolutely! I've been in contact with Fiddleford and he said we are more than welcome to stay with him in the old Northwest manor.” Ford confirms.
“Soos also said you’re welcome to sleep over at the shack whenever you want.” Stan chimes in.
“I can’t wait to see you two again! You’re really the best great niece and nephew ever.” She comments.
“You’re the best graunt ever!” Dipper and Mabel speak in unison, then begin to giggle and shove each other.
“See you two in a few months!” With that they end the call.
“A month and four weeks, four days, and six hours.” Ford says precisely.
“But who's counting?” She teases.
“And only a month, fours weeks, two days, and four hours until you become my wife.” Ford pulls her close, Stan rolls his eyes and leaves the upper cabin.
“Now that I am counting down to.” She plants a kiss to his cheek. “Mrs.Pines, I love how that sounds.”
“Well then, Mrs. Pines?” He kisses her forehead, then her cheek, then her lips. “Will you do the honor of being mine?”
“I already agreed to marry you, that’s why we’re getting married.” She laughs.
“I know, but I love hearing you say it. I still can’t believe you agreed to marry me.” He jokes. “Will you say it? Say you’ll be mine? Forever and always?”
Her finger came up to trace his jawline and lead his lips to hers. “Forever and always.”
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Text
Fic: Pepsi Raspberry
Fandom: Triple Frontier
Ship: Francisco “Catfish” Morales x Reader/you
Warnings: There's a fight and Reader's ex left her with some issues, but nothing super traumatic. Frankie is super cute (and a little needy). I just threw this together on a slow day at work, apologies in advance for errors.
Summary: You fight with Frankie. That's it that's the plot.
A/N: This was honestly supposed to be a piece about feminism and female independence in a relationship but I can't be trusted around Frankie, he totally bippity-boppity-booped me into forgivance. Dickhead. Also I struggled for two and a half hours with the title and that's why it's shit. I hate titles.
Words: 2,416
A loud noise wakes you up, your heart missing a beat. For a moment, you're completely still in bed, scared out of your mind. That was definitely the sound of the front door opening and closing, and someone crashing into a chair. You're as stiff as a board, your first thought being that this is it, this is how you'll die, by the hand of a home invader who's probably going to assault you first and then kill you, or maybe kidnap you and do god knows what to you…
You hear cursing and as you recognize the voice you also realize that if someone wanted to break in, they'd probably at least try to be stealthy about it.
"Frankie?" You mean for it to be a call but it's just a breathless whimper. You wet your lips, finding your mouth too dry.
Heavy, staggering footsteps bring the unknown visitor to the bedroom door and you reach out to turn on your bedside lamp. Blinking blearily towards the soft light is indeed Frankie, a sheepish smile on his face.
"The hell are you doing?" Your fright-induced stiffness leaving your body, you sit up in bed and glare at your boyfriend who was supposed to sleep at his own place tonight after his night out with the boys. His eyes are unfocused and his face shiny, and it's clearly been a good night. You glance at the nightstand, where the red light diodes of the clock tell you that the time is barely three am.
“Sorry, baby. Did I wake ya? There was… there was a chair in the entry. Did you move a chair? There never was a chair there before. Stubbed my toe.”
He limps over to the bed, trying to look as sober as possible while unbuttoning his shirt – “trying” being the operative word, as he’s clearly lost control of his fine motoric skills. He ends up pulling the flannel over his head, but it gets stuck, and he topples over his side of the bed. You draw back a little, wrinkling your nose. He smells of stale beer and cigarettes and moreover: he was supposed to go home. You had both agreed that you'd spend Saturday night apart for once, him catching up with his friends, you with yours, and he'd go home where he could spend Sunday nursing his hangover while you got some cleaning done in your apartment.
“What you are doing here?” you demand again, anger replacing fear. “Can I send you to the shower or will you drown?”
“I’m not a good swimmer,” Frankie acknowledges ruefully as he clumsily rolls over in bed and attempts the next step of getting undressed: undoing his fly and getting his tight jeans off. “Here, baby, gimme a hand, you’re so good at this…” “You deal with it yourself,” you say sternly, in no mood to help. The whole idea of spending one night apart was to get a good night’s sleep – something you rarely get in the same bed as Frankie as both of you are usually too voracious for each other to think about sleep – and for you not to have to worry about a hung-over boyfriend the following morning. On top of that, you’re furious with him for scaring the shit out of you by stumbling in at three in the morning. You almost regret giving him a key but then again: if he didn’t have one it could have been even worse, he could have gone full on Stanley Kowalski outside your window.
“Ah, baby, c’mon… Don’t be like that. Help an old man out.”
Frankie tilts his head up and looks at you with imploring eyes, upside down from you. Half of him is hanging outside the bed and the rest is slipping off, and he looks like he might fall asleep any second. You might as well help him before he goes limp and ends up on the floor.
“Jesus Christ,” you mutter and crawl over to his side of the bed before climbing out. As you bend over to pick up his legs and lift them onto the mattress, Frankie manages to slap your ass.
“Baby. Hey, baby. Let’s have sex.”
“Not gonna happen.”
You unzip his jeans and yank them down carelessly, pulling Frankie down the bed in the process.
“Whoa, wild thing,” he murmurs thickly, his eyes falling shut. “Careful of the joystick, you don’ wanna damage that or you won’ be able to fly anymore…”
You don’t bother with an answer, he’s not going to remember it anyway. You help him off with the t-shirt as well and when you’re about to tuck him in, he grabs you by your wrist with a move much quicker than you had thought him capable of in his state. He pulls you down over him, the other hand squeezing your ass.
“Sex,” he mumbles. “Love you, baby, and I wanna be in you fo’eva.”
You try to avoid the smelly, wet kisses that he keeps pressing to your neck and shoulder. While you can appreciate him being horny for you in any situation, you’re still mad about him being here at all.
“You need sleep and I want it,” you tell him as you squirm out of his hold. Returning to your side of bed, you ignore the puppy eyes look he gives you as you turn off the lights.
“Not sleepy,” Frankie protests weakly before he’s out cold. He starts to snore loudly and you sigh in exasperation.
You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.
You barely sleep for the remainder of the night and when you finally give up and get out of bed, you're in a pissy mood. Not even two cups of coffee and the fancy bread rolls you bought at the bakery yesterday to treat yourself this Sunday morning make you feel better. You down a painkiller to combat the beginnings of the headache you feel creeping up on you before starting on your chore list. The clearing of the closets in the hall is the first task and you get to it, trying to find some satisfaction in the fact that you're getting your things in order.
As the hours pass by, you do your best to work around the tasks on your list that would generate noise, such as vacuuming. You may be pissed at Frankie but you're decent enough to let him sleep for a little while longer. However, you finally face the fact that if you're to get everything done in time for you to actually enjoy the rest of your day off and open that novel you've been dying to read, you're going to have to start the vacuum cleaer. If Frankie wanted to sleep until three pm he should have gone home.
When you turn off the vacuum cleaner, you hear Frankie groan in the bedroom.
“Babe?”
You're not really in the mood to talk to him but you go check on him, just in case he needs help to get to the bathroom. Nursing his hangover is the last thing you want to do today but you also don't want to clean up vomit.
He looks like a wreck with his hair standing out in every direction where it's not plastered to his skull, puffy eyes, and pale face.
“Morning.” Your tone is short but he doesn't seem to notice. He grunts and rubs his forehead with one hand, the other reaching out of bed towards you.
“C'mere. I wanna cuddle.”
“You smell,” you shake your head. “Get up already, I want to change the sheets.”
He groans again and retracts his arm, draping it over his forehead.
“One more minute. Or hour. It's so early and my head is killing me.”
“Not my problem, Frankie.”
Frowning, he looks at you, clearly bothered by the sunlight washing the room in light. You don't offer any explanations.
“Is there coffee?” he asks eventually.
“No.”
“Can you make some?”
“Make it yourself.”
He blinks at you, surprised.
“What's wrong, baby?”
You go to the other side of the bed, grab the pillow and start to take off the pillowcase.
“Just get out of bed. I have shit to do.”
Frankie sits up slowly, his head clearly bothering him when he moves from a horizontal recline to a vertical seat. He takes a moment, eyes closed and hand on his bare, soft stomach, before looking up at you.
“What's up with you?”
There's a hint of accusation in his voice and that does it for you. You slam down the pillow onto the bed and cross your arms in front of your chest as you glare at him.
“You scared the shit out of me last night, Frankie! I thought I was being burglared!”
“I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you,” he mumbles, his apology meaning nothing to you because you can clearly see that he doesn't understand the terror you felt last night.
“We agreed that we'd spend the night apart, what the hell did you come here for and ruin my sleep and my morning?” you demand, raising your voice a little despite yourself. Frankie hates yelling. “Did you think I'd take care of you, tip-toe around you all day, serve you coffee in bed and junk food on the couch while you get to feel sorry for drinking too much?”
“What, no, what are you – “ Frankie seems utterly confused, the state of him most likely partly to blame. “Can you please keep your voice down?”
You pull at the duvet, stuck partly underneath him. “Move.”
“Jesus...” he mutters as he slowly gets out of bed. He stands still for a moment as if to recalibrate as he adjusts his boxers, before sluggishly dragging himself to the bathroom. You strip the bed and as soon as Frankie's out of the bathroom and heading into the kitchen, you take the sheets to the washing-machine and start it. And just because you're feeling like a bitch, you throw Frankie's clothes out of the bedroom, letting them land on the floor, before vacuuming.
When you're stowing away the vacuum cleaner into the cleaning closet, Frankie confronts you. He's now dressed but that doesn't help his half-dead appearance.
“Why are you being like this?” He's still struggling to understand you. It's typical Frankie: he always tries to talk about things, bring clarity into every issue.
“Like what? What am I like?"” You're being a brat, you know, but you have no desire to be an adult right now. Frankie really doesn't seem to understand: the frown seems permanently etched into his face and he looks so different from his usual soft, easy-going self.
“Mean. You're being mean!” The last word comes out harshly and you can tell Frankie's losing his customary cool.
“So when I have plans to spend a day apart from you and be my own person, I'm being mean?” you spit. He looks at you like you're suddenly speaking in a foreign language.
“What are you even talking about?” The exasperation is plain to see, and it somehow makes you even angrier.
“This isn't your mama's bed and breakfast that you can just check into whenever you feel like it, Frankie!”
“Fuck,” he mutters, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I can't deal with this right now.” He pulls out his phone. “I'm getting an Uber.”
“Good!” you quip. “Fuck off home, like you should've done at three in the fucking morning!”
Without waiting for a reply, you stomp into the bedroom and slam the door. A few seconds later, you hear the front door slam as well.
[+++]
Sorry I showed up unannounced in the middle of the night. I just missed you. Didn’t want to go home and sleep without you. Call me, okay? I Love you.
You stare at the text message and feel bad, no, not bad: really fucking awful. It took you a few hours to calm down; hours that you spent playing angry music while finishing your list of chores. Afterwards, you didn’t feel that satisfying sense of accomplishment you usually experience after a good cleaning. Your head still hurt, so you went to your newly made bed which smelled fresh and nice even with the spread on top. You slept until late afternoon and woke up by the beep signaling the text.
You’re conflicted. The fact that he missed you is so sweet but there’s something about the statement that annoys you. He’s a grown-ass man, for chrissakes, and he should be able to be without his girlfriend for one single fucking night. And then guilting you into calling him with I-love-you’s and his fragile feelings? Fuck that noise.
And still. You know what Frankie’s like: physical, devoted, kind. He’s not like anyone you’ve ever been with. Not like your last boyfriend, who would pull shit like this all the time: show up at your place at all hours of the day (or night) whenever he wanted something from you. Sex. Comfort. Sympathy. Who would text and call you all the time when you were out with friends because he couldn’t find his way to the fridge without your help.
Reluctantly, you hit the speed dial button to Frankie, and he picks up almost immediately, saying your name with barely contained urgency.
“Hi,” you say quietly.
“Hi. You okay?” Such a Frankie thing to do, make sure you’re okay after a fight where, technically, he’s the injured party.
“Not really. You?”
“I’ve had worse.”
“You mean the hangover or this morning?”
You hear the smile in his voice. “Both, but I meant the hangover.”
You exhale in an amused little sniff.
“I’m sorry, Frankie. Do you… wanna come over?”
“I’d love to. Have you eaten?”
“No.”
“Neither have I. I’ll pick something up. Burgers from that place you like?”
Your stomach rumbles at the mention of burgers but you’re more concerned with the sudden tears that rise in your eyes. Oh, Frankie.
“That would be great,” you manage, wiping at your eyes. Get a fucking grip!
“Parmesan fries?” he queries, but all he gets from you is a sob. “Baby?”
“I love you,” you sniffle. “You’re the best.”
“Aww, babe. I love you, too.”
You draw a deep breath to calm down, a little embarrassed at your emotional outburst. It’s not like you, but it’s been a weird day.
“You still there?” he asks.
“Sure.”
“Pepsi Raspberry for you?”
You start crying.
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lacrimaomnis · 3 years
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BRF Reading, 15/7/2021 (Part One)
Background: The ask I received from an anon earlier today made me wonder about something -- but for that, I have to indulge in a little bit of a ramble here.
If you have read my about page here, you will know that I have been an on and off royal watcher for some time. I know about Harry and Meghan's wedding, and while there was something I couldn't put my fingers on back then, I definitely did not lean towards warming up to her, which was normal for me. Catherine got married when I was too young to understand and to have a care for the world, and so, when I started royal-watching, I did not warm up to Catherine quickly either. But if there is anything I know, even if I did not warm up to Catherine sooner, is that Catherine and Wiliam married for love. I believe that much.
Now, Harry and Meghan, on the other hand, feels...I don't know how to say it, but it feels like there were tied hands back then when they married. So I have two questions, which I will read in two days. I planned to read twice in one day, but I am just too tired and sleepy. Part Two will be tomorrow.
As written, this is merely a speculation and therefore must be taken with a grain of salt. This speculation is not true until proven otherwise.
My question today is, why did Harry decide to marry Meghan?
Cards drawn: Knight of Cups, Eight of Wands, Ten of Wands, Eight of Pentacles, Four of Wands, Nine of Cups, Four of Cups.
Remarks/Comments: I was honestly expecting at least one or two major arcana cards to come up to give me some clarity about the situation, but I am surprised to see that none of the major arcana pops up. Not to say that a spread consisting purely of minor arcana cards is less clear compared to a spread with major arcana, but I was hoping there was a definite something I can look at to determine the main energy in this reading.
Summary: This spread consists of seven cards. Three of the cards are Cups and another three are Wands, which means that two suits make up for the majority of cards, which could mean that this marriage was based on feelings (Cups) and was thought of as a solution to a problem (Wands).
First card: Knight of Cups. This is a court card, and therefore, it stands for a person in my question -- which is Harry. This card speaks about making decisions based on emotions rather than thinking calmly to reach a decision; which did tell me that Harry decided to get married solely based on his emotions, and he did make this decision when he was blinded by his emotions rather than reason.
This card also speaks about loving someone for the sake of love itself, speaking about someone who shares that love freely. This does tell me that yes, Harry married Meghan out of love. I was surprised because I was sure that Meghan subtly manipulated Harry to marry her, especially with rumours of the secret marriage and yadda yadda, hence that "hands tied" feeling I mentioned earlier in this post. This card does tell me that Harry truly loved Meghan, loved her enough to marry her. They did say love makes you blind, and I do think this is perhaps what happened to Harry.
Second card: Eight of Wands. This card speaks about delays, frustration, fast-paced change, and action. Looking at this card, I remembered how Harry was not exactly successful with his earlier relationships. He broke up with Miss Chelsy Davy due to "rising incompatibility of their life choices", he broke up with the now Mrs Wentworth-Stanley, Cressida Bonas -- if tabloids were to be trusted, Harry even planned to marry her -- and it fell through. This did tell me that not only Harry loved Meghan enough to marry her, but he also did not want the Eight of Wands to happen again to him and his relationship with Meghan.
Third card: Ten of Wands. Now, this is another interesting card. For some reason, in two separate days, in two readings concerning Harry or Meghan, this card likes to show itself. Harry was burdened by something that he decided to get married and it wasn't that long in the past either, like the Eight of Wands. But the cards did show me he loved her, that Knight of Cups is just staring at me with his wide eyes, and his heart pouring out...then why was he burdened? Wasn't marrying someone you love a celebration, not a burden? Why would marrying someone you love become a burden? I love my partner with all my heart, and I would never consider marrying him a burden. In fact, I am (with that childish excitement) looking forward to the day he offers the ring. Then why? Why did this card come up?
Fourth card: Eight of Pentacles. The only card representing anything material wealth related, and the card itself doesn't even speak about anything materialistic. This card speaks about apprenticeship, repetitive tasks, self-development, and misdirected activity. In a broader sense, this card speaks about working away at the finer details of your life to improve your situation. Did Harry think marrying Meghan would improve his situation? In my humble opinion, marriage is not merely one finer detail of life, it is a huge part of someone's life. What would be improved in Harry's life when he married Meghan? Is there any? Or did Harry think so? There's a big difference between doing something that one thinks would improve a situation and doing something that actually improves a situation, just like how there is a big discrepancy between how we perceive a situation to be and the actual situation. I think Harry's decision to marry Meghan was in the former category.
Fifth card: Four of Wands. This card is closely associated with the elements of home: the people who make a home safe, people who support you, the familiarity, everything that makes a house a home. Now, the position of this card in this spread suggests these "elements" that make a home had an influence on Harry's decision to marry Meghan. The only thing I can think about is the rumours where members of the royal family (particularly William) warned Harry against rushing into marriage.
Looking at its pair, the Eight of Pentacles, this card did give me some idea that Harry might think that his situation at home, at least from his point of view, might be able to be improved if he married Meghan. This would once again beg the question of what, why, and how? How would marrying Meghan improve his situation? Why did he have to get married to improve his situation? What was the situation that he had to get married to improve it? This pair of cards leave me with more questions than answers.
Sixth card: Nine of Cups. This is the pair of the Ten of Wands. This card is usually about contentment and satisfaction, but could also speak about dissatisfaction and materialism. This card tells me that the burden (Ten of Wands) Harry felt was dissatisfaction with his family (Four of Wands). He was not satisfied with something that he decided to marry Meghan, believing that Meghan might be able to satisfy him in that particular aspect of his life. I am not inclined to believe Harry decided to marry Meghan because of money (in fact, I believe the opposite applies), so I'd stick with the dissatisfaction interpretation.
This card also reminds me of the so-called one-sided rivalry between William and Harry, and one of my thoughts I've written here. I must underline that these are solely Harry's thoughts and feelings, which would fall in line with what we've seen from him: a whiny, sulky adult man who feels that everyone has to bow at him because he was the son of a mother who was tragically killed in a car crash.
Seventh card: Four of Cups. This card talks about apathy, contemplation, retreat, and withdrawal. As the result of his decision to marry Meghan, Harry has shown that he was capable of being completely apathetic to all the sadness he has inflicted on his family because of all their lies as long as they get their way. He also leaves his family to follow Meghan, the family that provided him with comfort and stability for all his life.
Conclusion: As much as how we'd like to believe otherwise, this reading tells me that Harry perhaps did love Meghan. Perhaps he did love her enough that he decided to marry her, but that decision wasn't made based on reason. He was blinded by his own emotions. He also thought marrying Meghan would improve the situation at home, perhaps he was thinking that marrying Meghan would improve his standing somewhat, which, well, frankly, does not make sense. What kind of standing did he hope? Did he hope to have some sort of social standing in Hollywood?
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Rewind Chapter 11 - Epilogue
“Will I remember any of this?”
Ford paused, hands stilling on his workbench as he considered the question. “…I don’t know.”
Stan swung his legs idly from where he was perched on another table in Ford’s lab, watching the nerd fiddle with his vials. One of them had a glimmering rainbow liquid in it that kinda looked like unicorn blood. “You said when I was an adult we were fighting. Do you think we’re just gonna keep fighting?”
“We’ll always be fighting a little bit.” Ford hedged.
“No, I mean real fighting. Not just arguments and stuff.”
“Then… no, not if I have any say in it.”
:readmore:
“Good.” Stan folded his arms. “Adult me kinda sounds like a jerk, so you gotta tell him I said to be nice. And you’ve been kind of a jerk too, so you also have to be nice.”
“I doubt a grown-up you will follow the instructions of a baby.”
“Hey! I’m not a baby!” Stan found a crumpled piece of paper nearby and lobbed it at Ford’s head. He missed, but it was the thought that counted. Ford let out a huff.
“Don’t throw things when I’m working with chemicals, Stanley. Unless you want me to spill it on myself and also turn into a baby. Then who would cure you?”
“Not a baby!”
Stan didn’t throw anything else, though. Only because there was nothing nearby to throw.
“I honestly don’t know how much you’ll remember.” Ford admitted after a while, twirling a test tube to mix its contents. It looked pretty boring for what was basically a magic potion, just clear and grey. It wasn’t even bubbling. “You might completely forget everything that happened when you were de-aged. In which case, I don’t know how I’ll explain everything.”
“Just start with the story of how I defeated an evil dream demon. It’s the coolest part.”
“It’s the most exciting part of the story,” Ford allowed, “But not the best place to start.”
“It’s the hook! That’s the best part of a story, you know.”
Ford lifted the boring test tube up to inspect it in the light. When Stan looked closer, it didn’t seem as clear – as he watched it was slowly getting cloudier, more silver than grey. He vaguely remembered something about that from science class – did that mean there was a chemical reaction? Or a physical reaction? He could never remember the difference between them.
Ford stared pensively at the vial, and after a few moments Stan cleared his throat. “Is that it?”
“Yes.” Ford started to turn to him and then hesitated again. “You just have to drink this to go back to your real age. I… hm. Are you ready? Do you want to have something to eat first? Or maybe go to bed and have it in the morning?”
Stan blinked. “It’s gonna make me older again, right? Why wait?”
“Well, I don’t know.” When Stan made grabby hands Ford relented and handed over the vial. It was cold to the touch, like it had just come from the fridge. Stan stared at the thick, silvery liquid and wondered what it would taste like. “When you touched water from the spring of youth you passed out for several hours. The same thing could happen now, so we should move you somewhere comfortable before you drink-”
Stan tipped the vial and swallowed its contents in one big gulp. Ford shrieked.
“Stanley! Why would you do that?”
It tasted kinda like dirty, metallic oranges and Stan screwed up his face. “Ew! Couldn’t you at least make it taste nice?”
Ford retorted something, but the sounds were a bit wobbly in his ears. Stan blinked hard to try and make his vision make sense. It was just a little bit off, fuzzy in the corners of his vision.
“…getting dizzy?” Ford’s voice swam through the air, thick and swampy, like Stan was breathing treacle. “…lie down…”
And then, quick as blinking, he was on the floor. That was rude, for the world to just flip over like that. Everything was clouds and Stan was very, very sleepy.
Something else was said, but he was too far away to hear it.
 _______________________________________________________________
When consciousness came – and it did come, as much as Stan wished he could sleep forever, dragging him up from the depths of hazy dreams he couldn’t remember – he knew exactly where he was.
There were soft sheets against his back, the faint whistle of wind through the pines outside, the taste of copper on his tongue. The spare bed felt smaller, now, and when his head shifted his stubbly cheek scratched against the pillow. It smelled faintly like dust.
“Stan? Are you waking up?”
Okay, that was Ford’s voice. But, there was still the possibility that this had all been a weird, vivid dream! That’s right, everything from the last couple days had been a dream. There were no gnomes, no dream demons, and in a moment Stan would open his eyes and be back inside the Stanleymobile.
He cracked his eyes open, blinking at the assault of light, and saw his brother’s face looking back at him.
…shit.
“Stan? Are you alright?” Ford was tapping his cheek, looking for a reaction. Stan grumbled and brushed him away.
“I’m fine. Hands off the merchandise.” His voice was rough with sleep, and Stan was almost surprised by how deep and gravelly it was compared to the childish squeaking he’d been doing lately.
Ford made a face, somewhere between worried and amused – an expression that Stan was familiar with from the last couple days. Dammit. He just had to remember all that. Ugh, and now Ford would want to talk and get all mushy.
“I’m fine.” Stan repeated, with nothing else to say. He got up on his elbows, and a quick glance around the room confirmed they were in the spare room he’d been sleeping in the last couple days. Still, he asked. “Where are we?”
“How much do you remember?” Ford asked urgently, making Stan blink. “Since you arrived here, I mean.”
“Uh… nothing.” He lied, like a liar. Ford’s face fell.
“…oh.”
Yeah, there was no way he could tell the truth here. He would die of embarrassment if he had to admit he remembered acting like a child and being all…sappy. Ford would look at him all weird and they would have to talk and that was just… ugh.
“Yep! I just remember getting here and then – poof! Nothing.” Stan went for a carefree laugh. “Man, did I get hit on the head with a coconut or something?”
Ford lowered himself onto the edge of the bed, looking crestfallen. “No, not quite. Do you – remember the argument we had?”
Nope, nope, feelings alert. Stan did not want to delve into that conversation.
“What argument? Probably about you being a nerd, huh? Jeez, am I hungry, you got any food in this joint?”
“Wha-”
Stan was already throwing the covers off (thank god he was wearing a nightrobe underneath, he didn’t think his pride could survive another hit). Ford spluttered as he got to his feet.
“Will you slow down?”
 ______________________________________________________________
After a couple tests which were obviously unnecessary (but Ford insist on anyway, the nerd) Stan was finally free to pull on some actual clothes and follow Ford to the kitchen. He hadn’t been lying earlier, hunger really was gnawing in his stomach, and he made a beeline for the fridge.
“-and so you were reverted back into a child,” Ford continued. The guy had absolutely no showmanship. Way to lose an audience, Stan muttered to himself as he grabbed the fridge door. He’d told him to start with the demon bit, but noooo. “That was a couple days ago. There have been some – well, it’s been eventful. I doubt you’ll believe me if I told you.”
“You’d be surprised.”
“By the way, my friend is on his way.” Ford added. Stan ducked down to inspect the fridge’s contents – at least it was better stocked than when he first arrived. He hummed in acknowledgement. “You – well, I suppose you won’t remember him. You’ll like him though. You did.”
“Is he a nerd liked you?”
Ford snorted.
Stan grabbed a box of leftover pasta and then went in search of a fork. “Well, let’s hope this Fiddleford guy can tell stories better than you, ya almost put me to sleep with the way you tell it.”
When he turned around, Ford was staring at him.
It took a moment for him to realize his mistake – by the time Stan opened his mouth to spew out some bullshit excuse, Ford was pointing an accusing finger at him.
“I didn’t tell you his name!”
“Yes you did!” Stan spluttered. “I mean, how else would I know his name unless you told me, huh? You ever think about that?”
Ford narrowed his eyes. “Stanley.”
“Stanford.” He parroted right back. The staring match continued for a few moments before Ford threw up his hands.
“Unbelievable! You’re such a liar.”
Stan took a large bite of pasta. Because he was hungry, not because he didn’t want to answer. Ford glared at him.
“I should have known you’d try to wriggle your way out of this. ‘I don’t remember’ my ass. What, were you just going to leave and pretend none of this ever happened?”
Stan shoveled more pasta into his mouth.
“Don’t think you can avoid talking with me. We are having this conversation whether you like it or not.”
‘No, we’re really not’ is what Stan meant to say. Unfortunately, the moment he took a breath to speak he started choking. Ford scowled and thumped him on the back as he coughed, getting bits of pasta all over the kitchen floor.
“Unbelievable.” The nerd said again.
 Well, so much for that.
  _______________________________________________________________
Stan squirmed under his brother’s glare – the whole ‘pacing and towering over him while Stan sat on the couch like a scolded child’ schtick was uncannily similar to what their mother would do when they earned her ire.
“So.” Ford began. “You remember childhood.”
“Yep.” Stan grumbled.
“Your adult life?”
“Mm hm.”
“The last couple days here and everything that occurred while you were reverted?”
“Mm.”
Ford stopped his pacing to turn to him. “Then why on earth did you try to pretend you didn’t? We even made up!”
Stan buried his face in his hands to try and hide its burning. “I don’t know! I knew you’d try and get all…” He shuddered. “Mushy. Feeling-y.”
Stan could just feel the flat look his brother was giving him.
“Okay, fine, look. You forgave me for breaking your project, I forgave you for being a jerk. We’re good. Now, I’m just gonna head home-”
“You’re homeless.”
“You don’t know that!” Stan looked up from behind his hands to see Ford folding his arms. “I could have a, a house, a mansion even!”
“You have a mullet.”
…okay, Ford had him there. Stan scowled. “What’s the plan then, smart guy?”
Ford’s eyes gleamed, and he immediately regretted asking.
“I’m glad you asked, Stanley! I’ve had plenty of time to think over these last couple days. First of all, the Duskertons are looking for someone to help around their store, and no one in Gravity Falls cares much about credentials – I’m pretty sure the man who works at the post office is just a bunch of gnomes in a trench coat ­– so your lack if identification shouldn’t be a problem if you’re looking for a job. There’s also Boyish Dan, his family owns a logging company and I’m sure you could get a place there if you wanted. You’re welcome to stay in my house for as long as you need – I’m sure there are some places in town if you want to rent instead, though. If you choose to stay I might ask for your help in some of my research, since Fiddleford has decided to take a break from studying Gravity Falls, which I don’t blame him for.”
Stan blinked, but Ford wasn’t finished, ticking things off on his fingers as he went.
“I’ll also need to keep you under observation for a while to ensure that there are no side effects from the fountain of youth water, so I’ll ask you to stay around for at least a couple days. If you decide to leave Gravity Falls after that period, you’ll need to give me your phone number so we can keep contact. Oh, scratch that, I’ll make a new one – I’m sure I can work up a design that isn’t as flimsy as the current models going around.”
“Uh-”
Stan was saved from having to answer (answer? There wasn’t much of a question but Ford was looking at him expectantly and he didn’t know what he was supposed to say) by a light knock on the door. Ford perked up and rushed to answer it.
“Am I intruding?” Fiddleford’s hesitant voice rang out. Ford shook his head and stood aside to usher the smaller man inside.
“Not at all, come in. It’s good to see you.”
Fiddleford stopped in his tracks when he laid eyes on Stan on the couch.
Ugh, he was already getting a headache. Now came the judgement. Stan looked like a mess, he knew he did – unshaven, with bags under his bloodshot eyes and ragged hair and old scars crisscrossing his arms. Some small, childish part of him wanted to jump up and hug the guy. Gross. Instead he shoved down the nervousness, stood, and gave him a lazy two-fingered salute.
“…Stanley?” Fiddleford tilted his head, eyes scanning him. Stanley shrugged uncomfortably. It was weird, towering over the small guy like this.
“Hey.”
“Well, you grew up big. The spittin’ image of yer brother.” Fiddleford gave a little smile and stuck out his hand. “Pleasure meetin’ ya, officially this time.”
“Eh, you too.” Stan shook the offered hand. It was small, frail, but gripped his firmly.
“So are you stickin’ around?”
Stan hesitated. He glanced from Fiddleford’s earnest face, to his own rough hand, to Ford’s careful expression – the look of someone trying hard not to look like they were listening.
“…yeah. Yeah, I think I’m gonna stick around.”
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spookypotato · 3 years
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Here's to my wonderful Verwandtschaft! @witchybisexualmess , happy, happy birthday! I hope you enjoy this a tiny bit... I wanted you to have some fluffy times.
I'm sorry for pulling you into the madness that oknutzy but there you go anyway.
Characters by @lumosinlove. Thank you!
The next step
Finn loved his life. He loved that the first thing he got to see every morning now, were his beautiful boys. His boys.
Logan must have felt him being awake, because Finn could see his eyes fluttering open, lightly brushing his shoulder.
"Hey Lo'. Slept well?", Finna asked, keeping his voice as quiet as possible not wanting to wake up Leo.
Leo, their giant of a boyfriend. He had his limbs wrapped around Logan, face looking relaxed if not pleased, even though he was still asleep. His legs were so long they reached over to tangle with Finns even unconsciously. He could feel the blondes warm feet touching his, now cold ones.
Logan must have read his mind, because he seemed to snuggle back into the warmth provided by the strong muscles against his back and the gentle arms thrown lazily over his body.
"I love you.", Logan mumbled, "both of you."
Logan felt a lingering kiss on his neck, just under his ear. He had known Leo was awake, and just waiting for the right opportunity to make it known even to the red head.
"Good morning, sleepy head.", Finn leaned over and kissed the top of Leo's head.
"'Morning, sweetheart.", came his raspy reply.
Finn moved closer to the others. He needed contact. He always needed contact. They were more than happy to help him out.
Logan was on him, the instant he felt him even shift the slightest in their direction. He wrapped his legs around Finns hips and pressed his face to the others chest.
"Fine, leave me for him, I see how it is.", they heard Leo's voice from the side of the bed, Logan had just moved away from. He was sitting on the edge, putting on some fuzzy socks.
"No, Nutty, Baby, dont leave us.", Finn pouted and he heard some grumbling from Logan, which was swallowed by Finn's body.
"I mean, if you dont want breakfast that's fine, but I do.", he got up and walked away in the direction of their kitchen.
Finn couldnt believe his luck. How was he worthy of these two people's attraction. He desperately wanted to wake up like that, with his boys, tomorrow. And the day after. And the days after that, until the end of his life.
~
"Hey Nutty, pass me the strawberries?", Logan asked from his chair next to Finn's. In front of them there was a stack of pancakes that would have filled them up after the Stanley cup finals.
Those games were long over. They were in their summer break now, mostly relaxing sometimes the team got together and practiced, but all the pressure was off of them. They were mostly fooling around on the ice, playing games and incorporating new rules into each one. Finn loved every second of it.
He snapped out of his thoughts, when Leo held out one of the strawberries to Logans mouth with a cheeky smile and a "here you go, sweetheart." They knew what they were doing. Finn was sure of it.
Logan took the fruit between his teeth, carefully wrapping his lips around it, never breaking eye contact with Leo. Once the brunette had bitten a piece of, Leo ate the rest of their shared strawberry. They were still staring at each other.
Their love hadnt faded one bit since they got together. Finn was so glad. He couldnt imagine ever taking the two amazing boys for granted. He couldnt imagine ever walking up and not melting at the sight of them cuddling each other and him. He almost loved their love for each other more than his own love for them. He loved them kissing each other almost more than him kissing them himself.
Lost in thoughts, his eyes trailed to Logans lips. He hadnt noticed before. There was a red smudge on his lips. Finn desperately wanted to lick it off. Then he remembered he could now. He often forgot, that he was allowed to have them now. To think about them. To kiss them.
He moved his hand over to Logan's side, cupping his chin with his hand. After breaking the eye contact with their other boyfriend, after a moment, which almost felt like hesitation, Logan turned to Finn and let him connect their mouths. Their kiss was slow and deep and they could feel Leo's eyes on them. Finn tasted the strawberry, licking over the spot on Logan's lip he had stared at before. They broke apart and Logan smiled at him. A genuinely happy smile. One that told him, that his life couldnt be better. Finn smiled too.
~
After they were full, there were still half of the pancakes left. They put them in the fridge to heat up later, as they would get hungry again in a few hours minimum.
Finn and Logan stood next to each other, shoulder to shoulder, at the sink, washing their dishes. Off course they could have bought themselves a dishwasher, but they have grown to like the dynamic of them watchin Leo make food and him watching them clean up. It was their arrangement. It was something that connected them.
"You know, it's bizarre, really.", they heard Leo, sitting on one of their counters. "When I was younger, back in NOLA"-Finn loved how he didnt say home anymore, he called them his home now. His family.- "Mama would always make me do the dishes. She'd said once you live on your own, you'll have to do them, so you need to practice. Little did she know I would have two wonderful boyfriends to do it for me.", he ended, hoping of the counter and pressed a kiss to their cheeks, with a little "Thank you."
That was one of their rituals. Once Leo was done with cooking, he got a kiss on each cheek for both of his boyfriends. Once they were done with cleaning they got one each from Leo.
While Finn put their towels up to dry, and cleaned the sink of any left over soap, he heard Logan mumble something. It was too silent to understand, but he had definitely said something.
"What, Lo'?", Finn asked pulling his boyfriend in by his waist and kissing his nose gently.
Logan kissed along his jaw for a second and then turned to the blond.
"Would you like that, Leo?"
"Like what?"
"A family."
Leo hesitated. Then he took their hands in his, and told them, "I have a family. I have you guys."
Logan looked down, hesitant, if not shy. "I meant, would you ever like children."
Finn had thought about it before. Off course he had. Raising children of his own, even before he had met Leo, or even Logan. I was something he had always wanted, but he hadnt discussed it with his boyfriends. Were they even that far along? Finn could imagine them raising their own kid though.
Debating about what they should wear. Teasing them a bit about their first crush, if they had one. They would probably be embarrassing parents. Wow. That sounded really good though. Them being parents. Their child coming home from school, running into their waiting arms and telling them all about their day.
But off course Finn wouldn't force them to adopt a kid. He wanted it. He had wanted it since he was a kid himself, but if Logan or Leo didnt want to, he would accept that. They probably didn't anyway. Neither had ever mentioned anything until that day.
Logan was still waiting for Leo's answer. It couldnt be easy for him to. If he said no and one of his boyfriends did, he would feel guilty for holding them back, and if he said yes and one of his boyfriends no, then he would feel awful for making them feel, like they were holding him back. But he had to answer.
"Yeah, I would like to have a child with you. Some time in the future, but even now.", when neither Logan nor Finn replied -Finn being lovestruck at that moment, because there was a possibility for them to become an actual family- Leo quickly added, "But no worries, guys. I know that isn't a top priority of yours. Or maybe you dont even want children. I know there are so many people that dont. And off course that's fine. We dont have to, ever. You know what, just forget I-"
He was cut off by a hard kiss from Logan. Once he hadnt been in a 'my-boyfriend-wants-to-have-children-with-me' daze, Logan had jumped up to Leo, hooking his legs around the blonde's waist, knowing he would easily be able to carry him. He felt Leo's hands wrap around him, holding him in place, while he let himself he kissed by his boyfriend, overwhelmed with emotions.
Logan stopped abruptly, though. Tapping Leo's arm so he would let him down. It was like he had just remembered Finn's presence again.
"I'm so sorry, Fishy. I didnt even- I should have asked.", his voice sounded close to tears, if from the blissful blur of wanting children with your boyfriend or from not consulting Finn on that matter, he couldn't tell.
"Me, too.", was all Finn could contribute to this, way too emotional morning. He wasnt made for thinking that much at 10 am.
He felt Logan lifting him, with way too much ease for their height difference. Leo was behind him, wrapping his arms around both of them. Logan let him back down gently, but they weren't moving away, pressing each other closer together than should have been physically possible.
"Imagine us raising a child.", Logan said disbelieving, while not letting go of his boys.
"Yeah, pretty crazy", Leo answered, clearly in his own thoughts at the moment. "I do want it though. With you."
"When you imagine it, ... how old we are.", Finn's voice broke through the thought filled silence.
Logan and Leo looked at each other, seemingly understanding the other without using words. It was Logan that answered, "Probably in a few years time? Leo shouldn't have to be a father, before he's turned into a legal adult. He should get to enjoy his youth."
"Good old days.", Finn said wistfully, instantly shaking at feeling those words cross his tongue. "I feel old."
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Membrane x Sleep Deprived! Male! Reader (fluff)
Outside POV:
Professor Membrane was the leading force of a scientific renaissance. He had found the barrier preventing humanity to travel beyond the horizon line. And he crushed it. Interstellar travel was now possible for humankind. Membrane was a person that would go down in the history books.
His dear friend, (Y/N), was a first responder—more specifically, an EMT. While it wasn't as important to the world as Membrane was, it was certainly more stressful. Everyday you could get called to respond to a sore throat or a burn victim. After witnessing his first death on job, it definitely took a toll on their psyche.
Watching a complete stranger is one thing. Having to try and stop the blood loss that was caused by some idiot getting impaled, however...
As a result, he often had sleepless nights. Whether it be from rushing to get someone to a hospital or the guilt that came with the failure was anybody's guess.
Membrane new this was bad for (Y/N), but what could he say to him? That enjoying your own life was more important than the loss of multiple? Of course not that sounds insensitive. But Membrane often spoke bluntly and could never find a better way to phrase it. So he kept quiet.
Until one day where (Y/N) called him near midnight. His speech was slightly slurred and Membrane could hear the tired drunkenness in their voice.
"Heyy Professor~" (Y/N) drawled. This was going to be a long night.
"Yes, (Y/N)?"
"I knoww we doon't talk much anymorre, but, uhhh, could you? pick me up toniight?" Membrane sighed before asking for the address.
He hastily got into his car and drove over to get (Y/N). He was so irresponsible. How did he even manage to make it through the day if he can barely stay awake half the time?
It was a desolate drive towards the bar (Y/N) was at. Even his favorite music didn't help distract him from his thoughts. He didn't take (Y/N) for a drinker, but he was wrong about lots of things when it came to people. He dealt with space. Not people.
"-And thassss my ride!" (Y/N) howled to a group of drunks that were with him. A strong red flushed his cheeks. "Bye guyssss! Au revoir!!" They cheered him on as he stumbled into Membrane's car.
"WHA- SHOTGUN!!" He jumped into the seat next to the driver as he uselessly fumbled with the seatbelt. With a tired sigh, Membrane buckled him in. "Thaaank youu, babyyyy!!"
As much as that was cute, he couldn't laugh. (Y/N) was in a drunken stupor. But then again, a drunk man's words are a sober man's thoughts. Membrane blushed at the thought. 'No no, that's ridiculous' he thought.
"You're going home." He spike in a stern tone, like a mother scolding her child. (Y/N) deeply frowned, crossed his arms, and puffed out his cheeks, like a little kid. He was probably imagining a ninja running on top of the buildings they passed like one too. He always was childish. Membrane liked that in him. He could somehow have such a bubbly personality despite the threat of death looming over his hands.
'How would he act if he wasn't tired?' Membrane wondered. Every time they had managed to see each other, (Y/N) had his hair pulled back (guys with long-shoulder length hair, y'all are so valid. Y'all get a ponytail/bun if you want lol) with dark circles under his eyes. And every time, he was chugging coffee. Black, apparently. As an EMT, he probably never got any true sleep.
"Heyyy, Professsorrr, we're hooome," a sleepy voice called out. Membrane realized that he drove all the way home without noticing. Muttering useless formalities, he stepped out of the car and carried his friend into the house.
"You knoow... you're face is soo cuute~" Membrane blushed.
"Come on, (Y/N), let's get you to bed." (Y/N) groaned. He didn't want to go to bed yet. He didn't want Membrane to leave before he fulfilled his promise.
~FLAAAAASHBAAACK~
At the bar, (Y/N) was speaking with his usual drinking buddies—the hopeless drunks that would listen to him and entertain his fantasies. Anything was possible to them. Fuck, some of them drunk absinthe.
"Guyss, I got a prroblemm." This peaked their attention. One of them, Stanley, asked what was eating him.
"Soo, I got a crushh on my neighborrr. Annnd I don' know how to tell 'im. " (Y/N) paused, "Like,,, I don't even think he likes be baack, but I GOTTA KNOWW!"
Tom, the most drunk (unsurprisingly), slurred a response. "Jussss' tell him!! What could go wRong???" A goofy smile was plastered on his face.
Richard, the least drunk and the one that was making sure they didn't do anymore things they'd regret, started listing off a bunch of things that can (and will) go wrong.
(Y/N) didn't pay attention. Tom had a pretty good point.
"II GOT THISSS!! IMA TELL 'IM" (Y/N) got out his phone and called Membrane.  Everyone at the table went quiet.
After a few dial tones, he responded.
"Heyy Professor~" (Y/N) slurred. Richard's eyes widened while Stanley and Tom were making dick jokes. Of course.
"Yes, (Y/N)?"
"I knoww we doon't talk much anymorre, but, uhhh, could you? pick me up toniight?" He begrudgingly asked for the address and said he would be there soon.
Cheers erupted from the small group. It was a simple task, but it was done nonetheless.
~FLAAAAASHBAAACK~
"Professorrrr!" He called out. Membrane turned towards him as he turned to key to (Y/N)'s apartment.
"What?" He sounded tired. (Y/N)'s smile faltered at his crush's tone.
"Could you... could you stay over?" It was spoken with such clarity that Membrane actually gasped. (Y/N) peered up at him. 'Dammit He was using the puppy-dog-eyes.'
"I-I guess." (Y/N) smiled up at Membrane; it was a purity you wouldn't expect from him. The flustered scientist looked away, but a light pink peaked out from under his collar.
He guided the drunken man to his bed. (Y/N) made grabbing motions towards him. He wanted Membrane to stay with him.
Membrane ignored it and went into the kitchen. A distant whine was heard as he set out some Advil for the next day. He walked back into the room and the tired man beamed.
"Come!" Membrane chuckled, and sat next to (Y/N) on the bed.
"Hey, guess what."
"Hm?"
"I like you." Membrane's face flushed a bright crimson. (Y/N) likes him? No, no, no, he's drunk. He doesn't know what he's saying.
Then Membrane was kissed on the lips. It was short, but filled with passion. (Y/N)'s lips tasted like brandy.
"Good night professorrr~" he sleepily said. He felt arms wrap around him as he slowly lost consciousness.
—-——————————————————
(Y/N) woke up with a massive hangover. He groaned in pain as he clutched his head. He looked around and was surprised to find he was in his own bed. And even more surprised to see his crush clinging onto his torso. Membrane stirred in his sleep, cuddling closer. (Y/N) smiled.
Membrane suddenly whispered into his skin, "You said some interesting things last night."
He tried to recall what happened, but everything was hazy. "What happened?"
Membrane sat up and pulled (Y/N) into a tender kiss.
He pulled away from a shocked (Y/N). "I love you too."
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pbandjesse · 2 years
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Today's was a really nice day but man. I hit a wall this afternoon and was so stupid tired. I didn't sleep bad last night, falling asleep was easier again. But I wish I got more of it. Waking up at 7 to go to work with James was a little tough. And I was a little in edge. I was a little crabby last night because I was so tired. And that continued on for most of my morning. I would be okay. But it was hard.
We left hee to be at the museum at 8. James packed me a thermos of milk and some cereal so I could eat when we got here. I did not want McDonald's. I wanted pops.
Stanley and Phil asked if I was okay. And I was like. I just sleepy. I hung out in the office for an hour until everyone else got in. And jumped into a good and full day.
The group was 6th and 7th graders and it was fun. I like having older kids. And these ones were good kids. I had a tour first. They had great questions and I was very pleased with everything I showed them. I had to make my garment talk short. But that was okay.
We had assembly line next. Which I was worried about because it can go so fast with big kids. I did everything I knew how to do to make it longer. But there is only so much I have to say. So once all the cars were done I let them go explore the car exhibit. And while they were loud, they were good and soon it was time for lunch.
I took them to go wash hands and turned out I had a non-binary child. And so we got their teacher and I would go show them where the other bathrooms were. I got to have a nice conversation about James with them. And they had a very cute frog hat. Sweet child.
I had my little break. And then it was cannery time. I had a good time talking to Kristen and Becca. About how the media tried to trick us. Told stories about work. I got to be a little excited about the workshop I have coming up. And then the kids were there again.
The cannery went well. I have some timing issues. What else is new. But I did get to lead a store and the kids were a lot of fun and really got into character. Which I love. Mike had to be an educator today and it was nice hearing a different person doing A. I am going to learn that soon. It was supposed to be today but that didn't work out. Ah well.
After the cannery we did some cleaning and I got into working on oysters. Just pulling apart the old glue and putting them all back together. It's always nice hanging out with coworkers doing this work.
I started getting really tired though. At 3 I grabbed my stuff and went to sit at the front desk. James was in a meeting so I just sat there and worked on my laptop. I am glad I brought it with me. I got a good chunk of my PowerPoint completed for my workshop. I was hungry but James had some brownies I could snack on. And soon enough it was time to go home.
I was real sleepy. James drove us home and I got changed when we got back. And laid down.
I would fall asleep eventually. I took a crazy hard nap. I was out out. James would wake me up for pasta. But it took me a while to actually get up.
The pasta was good. And I did my knitting. And we watched some videos. Eventually I would go and do my embroidery. Only one day left on that project!! I'm excited to have this one done and on the books.
Me and James hung out for a while after I was done my work. And eventually took a shower. Feeling clean. My skin is doing pretty well. Not perfect but I am trying very hard not to pick and I think the new lotion is helping.
Now I am going to get ready for bed. I have the next two days to myself. And I hope to work on cleaning the studio. And doing some organizing. I hope it just feels calm and nice. I hope you all have a great night and a fun day. Sleep well everyone! Take care!
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mer-curious · 4 years
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Study Notes [Stanley Barber]
Pairing: Stanley Barber x Reader
Word Count: 664
Warnings: None.
This is my first post ever. It’s kinda short and shitty but well it’s nighttime and I’m sleepy haha. Anyways, thanks for reading!
 Stanley Barber.
He was an odd kid. Very odd.
Whenever the rest of us children were having fun, he always looked at us smiling, but never joined. The teachers always looked after him, almost as if they were scared of being sued for not realizing a student had depression or something. Luckily, he never killed himself. He ended up growing into a kinda weird but not really teenager.
Who I ended up falling for. Both metaphoric and literally.
“Are you ok?” He asked holding his hand out for me to grab.
I stood up with his help. “Yes, sorry I didn’t see you coming.”
“Noticed.”
That was the whole fucking conversation. Three fucking sentences, if noticed even counts as one. Why am I even thinking about it?
 Sixth period was always the worst one. Jocks running round the halls headed to practice while cheerleaders walk right behind as if they were in a runway. Us who were actually leaving for the day had to wait until their modelling fit was done.
Once I reached the entrance, I quickly left the building and went straight to the parking lot. My friend told me to wait for her there so she could give me the notes to a class we shared. When I got to my friend’s car and she wasn’t there I realized she had until seventh period so I’d have to wait for half an hour.
“Hey” a voice said from behind me.
I turned around and saw Stan walking towards me. My breath got stuck in my throat.
“So, uhm…” he continued. “What are you… why are you here?”
“It’s a parking lot. Am I not allowed to be here?” I faked seriousness.
“No, no, that’s not-“
I interrupted him with laughter. He rapidly caught on the joke and started laughing too. After we stopped, he repeated his question from before. “Why are you here?”
“I’m waiting for my friend to give me her notes”
He frowned. “Is it Ricky you’re waiting for?”
“Maybe” I replied.
It definitely wasn’t Ricky. I was waiting for Dina.
“Oh. What class are the notes from?” He asked.
Was this jealousy I was sensing? It couldn’t be.
“Math. Why are you asking?” I teasingly questioned him back.
“I also have that class…”
And that’s how I ended up sitting in Stanley’s bedroom while he furiously ruffled pages out of his binder while looking for said notes. His hair kept falling onto his eyes, so he was pushing it back again and again, it was getting to my nerves. When the same strand fell to his face again, I got up off the floor and used my hand to put it behind his ear. I went back to my place and noticed he was blushing hard.
When he finally found the papers, he hand them over to me.
“Thanks, Stan. I swear that I’ll give them back to you once I finish copying them”
“No worries.” He replied smiling. “Do you wanna listen to some music?”
Stan stood up and turned on his vinyl player, a song I’d never heard before started playing and we both laid on the floor. Honestly, I wasn’t really enjoying the music, but Stan seemed to be having fun. His eyes were closed and his hands were drumming on the air. I kept looking at him until the song finished.
When another song started playing, he opened his eyes and caught me staring. I immediately blushed and looked away. He quietly laughed and grabbed my cheeks to make me look back at him.
“You-“ he was about to say something but I cut him off with a kiss.
His hands crawled up to hold me by the waist while my fingers played with his hair. We sat on the ground, me on top of him while he left kisses on my neck.
“If I’d known it would end up like this, I would’ve directly asked you for the notes in the first place.
I’m aware that the ending is shit, but I really wanted to post something about Stan as the series just came out. Follow me if you wanna read more. All love xx
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secretradiobrooklyn · 3 years
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Secret Radio | 7.24.21, 8.7.21 & etc.
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“Better, Better, Back” Secret Radio | 7.24.21, 8.7.21 & etc. | Hear it here.
- Mort Garson - “Plantasia”
1. Jean-Pierre Djeukam - “Africa Iyo” - “Cameroon Garage Funk”
The main musician I think of from Cameroon is Beti-Beti, and this is a whole different thing. Endless props to Analog Africa for providing fiery track after track. This is the sweat from their newest collection!
2. Eyedress - “Jealous”
Paige hears something in this and when I unfocus my eyes I do too. (Literal?) high school skate kids gettin in their shallow feels. I will admit that the chorus “time-time” is killer.
3. Nahid Akthar & Tafo - “Takra We Gutt Bhar Le” (I think)
Nahid Akthar’s voice is so completely bewitching that the amazing arrangements almost sneak by. Tafo is the producer of this track I believe, and the narrative structure of the music is just so confident and encompassing. But then also: man, that VOICE. She’s right up there with Ros Serey Sothea in expressiveness and character.
4. Oruã - “Escola das Roas” - “Sem Bênção / Sem Crença”
My thanks to you, Marc, for pointing this band to us. I have fallen in love with this particular recording, it just gets more thoroughly better with every listen. Calvin Johnson mentioned this band in a recent K newsletter — they’re a Brazilian band who corresponded with Doug Martsch as mutual fans until at some point Doug decided his own band needed replacing and he brought them out as Built to Spill and also as Oruã. This track also has shades of Sonic Youth’s “Master-Dik,” one of my all-time ultra faves. It really hits me in the ’90s, and I rilly want to see how some of this music is performed live.
5. Jacques Dutronc - “Le Responsable”
I’m so thankful to have Jacques Dutronc in my life. His rock songs knock me into gear like nothing else — and the whole band has its own very specific flavor. It kicks!
6. Sleepy Kitty - “Alceste in Silverlake”
At very long last, there is a new Sleepy Kitty album on the way! It’s in line at the record plant as I type this. And this is a song from the perspective of a musician-seeking drummer in LA, crossed with the most brutally honest man in all of France.
7. Sakuran Zensen - “錯乱前戦 ロッキンロール” (I Wanna Rock & Roll)
We only knew one song by this band (that we’ve played here) because the video was rad, but I looked to see what else was there and this song is just freakin great with me. The chords are really cool and his vocal delivery is just so over the top it’s impossible not to love. And the guitar solo is basically a full-on tonefest, which I appreciate more than a bunch of flying fingers. The video helps fill in the picture nicely too, I think, though I like the song while not looking at it even more.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YPCqT3e89SU
- Mort Garson - “Concerto for Philodendron & Pothos”
8. Clothilde - “Fallait pas ècraser la queue du chat”
All hail the French instinct for chamber music instruments as pop instruments, and then as a kind of technicolor weirdness. The orchestration of this song is a work of art in itself, and that doesn’t even account for her self-harmonizing melody. If you haven’t already, picture a brunette bob and deep mascara.
9. Public Service Broadcasting - “Spitfire”
I can’t remember now how I found this music, though I think it might’ve been from Josh’s playlist? This is from 2012, but they have a new album coming out almost exactly a month from now. In Bound Stems Tim and I got really into interlacing snatches of other people’s words into the music we were making, and this is very congruent with that interest. I feel like this song passes tests as it goes.
10. Shocking Blue - “Send Me a Postcard”
I first heard of this band when I was learning everything I could about Nirvana, and I’d heard both versions of “Love Buzz” and knew they were both great, but we only recently caught this track. It’s the bridge between “White Rabbit” and “Territorial Pissings.” 
11. Metak - “Tetrapak”
Our favorite Croatian band! Everything about this song is delightful. I feel like if this song was in English I’d probably cringe at the lyrics, but in this format I can only hear how much fun the song is to play. I am one-quarter Croatian, which means I can’t understand any of the lyrics either but I do see little ghosts of myself in the pictures of the band somehow. It’s weird.
12. Katerine - “Louxor J’adore”
-Anything I could say about this song is eclipsed by this excerpt:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uD7QuV6f_MA
The performance to the cemetery knocks me out
13. Erkin Koray - “Seni Her Gördügümde”
Whenever we’re listening to Anatolian psych, the songs with the most creative ideas and satisfying riffs and great vocal passages are always Erkin Koray. The four-piece arrangements are so good, and then he doesn’t hesitate to step up with his guitar to narrate a passage. Also, I really like how Turkish rock sounds so Indian and also Arabic and also French.
14. WITCH - “Chifundo”
Zambian prog rock! I haven’t heard anything like this track anywhere else in Africa yet. The thing is, this version of prog includes the exact flavor that Yes totally lacks, and thus I really love listening to this track in a way most prog rock doesn’t hit me. The time switches and the lead part over the top are just so smooth!
15. Ezra Furman - “Psalm 151”
We’ve been listening to a lot of Ezra Furman’s music lately, and it’s only getting better and more engrossing with every listen. We toured with Ezra Furman’s band about 5 years ago and every night was a pleasure. They’re finishing up a new album, which makes this a great time to listen to the others. This entire album, “Transangelic Exodus,” is a masterpiece as far as we’re concerned, and I find myself thinking the whole time too about Tim Sandusky’s production. Tim’s such a home town for us, and to hear his full attention on this album is just such a pleasure.
16. Ralph Stanley - “White Light, White Heat”
It was one of my favorite musical influence moments ever when my dad’s bluegrass band, The Prozac Mtn Boys, played VU’s “What Goes On.” Knowing that there is a recording of one of my dad’s true banjo heroes playing “White Light White Heat” is just an endless blessing. And actually hearing it is even better.
17. Kim Jung Mi - “Ganadaramabasa”
I know basically nothing about this track except that she’s Korean and this is from 1973. She’s got a real Diana Ross thing going on, and her band has a real Supremes vibe too… but it doesn’t sound like one of their songs.
18. Penny Penny - “Yogo Yogo”
We just got this record recently, and based on this track I wouldn’t’ve necessarily pictured the remarkable-looking guy who actually made this music. This is from the album “Shaka Bundu.” I’m sure it’s been cranked up and sent through some great house remixes — how could this not be? — but I like how this tempo operates at its own pace. It’s so truly and thoroughly ’80s, very 20th century. In the 21st century this tempo is practically cerebral.
19. Baris Manço - “Binboganin Kizi”
More Anatolian action. It’s really interesting to me how Turkish stuff was always associated with psych music but I didn’t really know how except for the opium thing, and I now understand that it’s in the chord relationships, well, and a lot of the vocal melody and delivery. In that way, Turkish rock pretty much defines what psych music sounds like. Wow. And check out that keyboard solo, so next level!
20. The Velvet Underground - “Countess from Hong Kong”
People are always asking Beatles or Stones and the answer is Velvet Underground. (And the Beatles, and the Stones.) They were just operating along a different balance beam than those other guys — performing different tricks for a different audience. While the Beatles were defining pop music, the VU were destroying it… but then later, they reveal their deep affinity for Western music, even as they never drop in to the blues-centric reading of it. It’s truly punk. I guess they are to punk what the Beatles are to pop — the definition of pop is whatever flows to or from the Beatles; punk is whatever flows to or from the Velvet Underground. Certainly more than any single band in 1976 or 7 or whatever.
21. Bella Bellow - “Denyigban”
The piano phrase that kicks this song off is surprisingly close to the opening of Bound Stems’ “Appreciation Night.” We got that phrase from the demo mode of Radz’s keyboard, and it’s surreal to hear a high-overlap version in a song from Togo. Her voice is so clean in tone and pitch, and what’s strangest to me is that I register the instrumentation in an almost Disney mode — but then realize that’s because Disney will draw on Caribbean and African elements at times as they establish characters and settings. Such an elegant song though!
22. Rail Band - “Mouodilo”
One of the first insights that got us into WBFF was the realization that James Brown had even more fundamental influence on the music of the world than the Beatles did — certainly in Africa. Hearing how his delivery interrelates with so many bands from all across Africa is such a revelation. This track just keeps winding around you til you can’t hardly live without it.
- Asha Bhosle - “Salma Jarir Jhalak”
All I know about this is that it’s in Bangla and it’s from a movie.
23. Unknown - “Chemirocha” - from “Love Is Love”
Several years ago, when African records looked interesting but we literally didn’t know anything about them, we bought a record called Love Is Love, in part because it was a beautiful cover and in part because the music seemed mysterious and full of possibility. Now, when I go to look for it online, I see no sign — I think it’s just a really small pressing from a… pirate group, I guess one could say? But really I think just hardcore music lovers. Anyway, it has this song “Chemirocha” on it, and there’s a story about this song that is really probably just best to link to because it’s so amazing. I guarantee you will find the information in this article worth your read:
https://www.atlasobscura.com/articles/chemirocha-how-an-american-country-singer-became-a-kenyan-star
24. Sparks - “Do-Re-Mi”
We’ve known about Sparks, but we’re late to a close listen. We’ve been listening a lot in anticipation of — not the band bio pic but “Annette,” the new film by Carax, one of our favorite directors ever. For that matter: make sure to watch “Holy Motors” by Carax. It’s probably best if you watch “Lovers on a Bridge” before that, but if you have to go straight to “Holy Motors,” dive right in. It’s amazing.
Meanwhile: This take on the Mary Poppins classic is TOO MUCH — I can’t stop smiling at the end, when the bells start tolling over the crashing drums and crescendoing vocal waves as their third finale fades away. How can anyone make this song, the very definition of not-rock, rock so fully?
- Mort Garson - “Ode to an African Violet”
25. Bob Reuter’s Alley Ghost - “She Brought Me to the Wire”
I will forever be glad that we not only landed in a city where we could find out about the person and the works of Bob Reuter, but that we got to know and work with him. Bob Reuter was one of the definitions of St. Louis to us, and when he passed, so did some of that city. But also, he left music and photos and stories in Eleven and chapbooks that I truly hope last forever. He was the hard-living romantic that you hope lives in the heart of every hard-luck case… and in his one instance, it was true. Bless your soul, Bob Reuter.
photos by Bob Reuter from The Pageant and El Leñador
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Guilt Trip
One night on the Stan O’War, Ford has a particularly vivid nightmare regarding his own guilt.
Based on conversations I had with marehami and with people on this one Discord server; just a small drabble plot bunny that bit me.
Another 500 volts of electricity sent Ford thrashing and screaming, as much as he was capable with the chains that bound him in place.
When it finally ended, he sagged and tried to regain his control, even though by now that was probably a long-lost battle.
“You know, IQ, sooner or later you’re gonna have to give in,” Bill purred.  One tiny black finger reached out and stroked his cheek, pretending to be affectionate.  He tried to pull away, but the arm just stretched to stay in place.  “I mean, you can’t keep up this self-righteous act forever!”
“...Watch me,” Ford whispered.  He spat at Bill’s feet, not caring that there was a worrying amount of red mixed in with the saliva.  “If it means protecting my world from you, I think I can handle it for as long as it takes!”
“Oh, please.”  Bill rolled his eye.  “You’re seriously trying to act like you’re some kind of hero, after everything you’ve done?  Face it, boy, you’re no better than me.”
“What?!”  Ford finally jerked his head back up, in a mixture of shock and outrage.  “I’m nothing like you!”
Bill cackled, and leaned on his cane.  “Y’know, it’s funny how often people say that about the people who they’ve got the most in common with.  Take, for example, this!”  He waved his hand, and a glowing blue light appeared in it; after a second it rearranged its shape into the form of-a striped necktie.
Ford recognized it immediately; his heart sank.
“Remember how much it freaked you out to have me using you as your meat puppet?” Bill asked, pulling the tie open and then draping it over Ford’s head.  Once it was around his neck, he cinched it tight, making spots flicker in front of the old man’s eyes as his air was cut off.  “But then you let your own niece and nephew do exactly that to your own brother!  Yeesh, that’s just cold!  You didn’t even do your own dirty work, you got kids to do it for you!  I’m honestly impressed!”
“I-I didn’t-”
Bill wasn’t done.
“And then, when you decided Pinetree was just a mini you, you were gonna try to kick everyone else out of his life so you could have him all to yourself, and get him to do your bidding!  Sound familiar?”
...Ford couldn’t even try to defend himself.
“In a way, Stanford, you’re an even bigger monster than I am!”  Bill ruffled his hair, which sent a small static shock through his arm; he just seemed amused by it.  “At least people know not to trust me!  You actually con other people into thinking you’re a semi-decent person on a regular basis!”  The walls of the Fearamid shook with his laughter.
“...But I’ve changed!”  Ford looked up a little desperately.  “I’m a better man than I used to be!  I’m a better brother and uncle than I’ve ever been!”
“...Right.  You say that now, but I wonder what’s gonna happen the next time Stanley does something that makes you mad?”  Bill tilted to the side and rubbed the spot under his eye thoughtfully.  “You gonna give him time to pack his bags, or are you just gonna throw him out on his ear as soon as you reach a port?”
“I’m not going to throw him out!  Not ever again!”  Ford’s dignity crumpled, and he struggled against his chains, snarling at the triangle.  “I’m not like that anymore!  I never will be!  NEVER!”
...He realized, when his eyes flew open, that sometimes the stereotype about waking up in a cold sweat could be quite true.
********
For a minute all Ford could do was lie in his bunk, taking deep breaths in an effort to make his heart stop racing.  Finally, though, he pulled his glasses on, and sat up until he was facing his twin’s bunk.
“Stanley?” he whispered.
No response; the lump in the blankets didn’t even stir.
“Stanley?” he called, a little louder.
That was enough to make him twist around, and a second later sleepy brown eyes fluttered open.
“...Wha…?”
“You know I’m sorry for giving the children a mind control tie to use on you, right?”
Stan blinked, slowly.
“I never should have done that to you, no matter what our relationship was like at the time.  I know it was unforgivable of me, and I swear I will never do anything like that to you again.  And I will never try to kick you off this boat either.”
“...Considering it was technically bought with my money, it’s not like you’ve even got the right to.”  Stan rubbed some grit out of his eyes with his thumb.
“Nevertheless, I’m sorry I did any of that to you.”  Ford was embarrassed to feel moisture building in his own eyes, and blinked hard to try to get rid of it.
Stan squinted at him through the darkness for a minute...and then nodded.  “Apology accepted.  Now go away so I can go back to sleep.”
The casual, somewhat annoyed, forgiveness was enough to make Ford smile around the lump rising in his throat.
Stan just burrowed back down into the blankets.  “I swear, you keep me up more than the kids ever did.  Even when Mabel was havin’ one of those crazy sleepovers.”  The last part partially trailed off in a yawn.
Ford swallowed, and said hoarsely, “I wasted forty years not driving you crazy like I was supposed to; I’m just trying to make up for it now.”
“Well, drive me crazy during waking hours so I can appreciate it better.”
Despite the grumpy words, he smiled a little when he felt a six-fingered hand gently ruffle his hair, and then the blankets getting tucked more securely around him.
********
Don’t worry, it’s not Bill coming back from the dead; it’s just Ford’s own guilty conscience come to haunt him.
...Probably.
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leverage-ot3 · 4 years
Text
notable moments from The Blue Line Job
leverage 5.02
Eliot: Does he ever win?
Danny: Yeah, he always wins. This is my dad's strategy -- he's a punching bag who punches back.
Eliot: Which makes the other guy focus on his hits and forget about his balance.
HMMM SEEM FAMILIAR ELIOT
- - - - -
Parker: But I want to see it! (reaches for magnet)
Hardison (covers magnet): I'm serious, Parker. No. It's not a toy, okay? This is a rare earth electromagnet. It's very strong, very dangerous. You ever wonder why the nerds have nine fingers? That's why. Okay? Right now, it's inert. But you flip the switch...
(Hardison flips the switch, a watch flies across the room and is shattered against the magnet. Nate and Eliot enter the room, and Hardison covers the magnet and watch with a hat, hiding it. He and Parker blow debris from the table)
Hardison: Hm
he and parker are a chaotic couple and honestly I don’t know how they survive without eliot having to save their asses every 0.00005 seconds
- - - - -
Parker: Oh! Schelling's Theory of Rational Deterrence.
(Nate and Sophie look at Parker, surprised)
Parker: The cold war?
Hardison: *heart eyes and smitten smile*
Nate: That's actually, terrifyingly, exactly right
parker is a genius and doesn’t hold back pass it on
- - - - -
sophie: *talks expertly about hockey*
nate: *embodiment of the surprised pikachu meme*
- - - - -
Sophie: Fights in every period, even on power plays?
Nate: How would you even know what --
Sophie: I thought this guy was like a minor-league hammer. You know, like -- like -- like Dave "The Hammer" Schultz?
Hardison: Who is she?
Sophie: What? Oh. A girl can't watch hockey?
Nate: Wh-what did you steal?
Sophie: Something... Hockey-related. A certain... trophy.
Nate: No, you didn't. No, not the Stanley Cup.
Sophie: Uh-huh.
Nate: No. I saw it last year in Boston.
Sophie: No, that was a fake.
Nate: It wasn't a fake.
Sophie: And not a very good one. No, no, no, no, no. I'm sorry. My engraver was awful.
Nate: Okay, so, where's the real one?
Sophie: I don't remember.
this entire interaction had me SCREAMING
- - - - -
hardison fucking with professional’s gear is my aesthetic (ex: the golf balls from the golf episode, now these hokey pucks that he MADE IN A TOASTER OVEN)
- - - - -
hardison and parker walking on the ice while whistling has the same energy as the don’t be suspicious meme
- - - - -
I almost feel bad for the guys that go up against eliot on the ice they have literally NO IDEA what they’re up against
- - - - -
sophie making sure to have a pin in her hair as backup
- - - - -
Vlad: Are you causing my Sophie problems? I will cause you problems.
Nate: That's, uh -- listen, that's pretty reckless talk from a guy with a medial tear that hasn't quite healed and a chronic rotator cuff, Vlady.
(Vlad and Nate stare at each other for a long moment)
Vlad: Hey! I love this guy! (hugs Nate) My drog.
Nate: Hello, Vlady. Nate. (puts arm around Vlad and leads him away)
Vlad: So, what do we do? What?
(Sophie struggles to carry Vlad's suitcase)
I thought this was going to go wrong but it went so, so right
- - - - -
sophie speaking to the turtle
- - - - -
Eliot: Yeah, you're right. I got no family. Not like you mean. But I had brothers. I had a lot of 'em. I didn't know all their names -- not all of 'em -- but I knew their faces and I knew their rank. And I did things that I didn't want to do because they counted on me -- bad things for good reasons. And you know what I learned? Bad choices are bad choices. Doesn't matter why you made them. And they tear you apart from the inside out. And you don't even notice.
eliot cares so much about this guy because he sees some of himself in him iM FINE
- - - - -
Parker (joining Parker at the top of the stairs): Did I fall asleep again?
Hardison: Yeah. (hands her a coffee cup) Here.
Parker: Thanks. How did the movie end?
Hardison: Soylent green is people.
Parker: Whoa.
Hardison: I know. Just sit with it for awhile. (looking at laptop)
Parker: Yuck. What's up?
Hardison: There's something weird in Rising's financials. Uh, you should get changed. It's time to go meet Nate.
Parker: Okay
DOMESTIC PARKER X HARDISON
sleepy parker only wearing an oversized tee (probably hardison’s!!!)
hardison having her coffee ready for her
them watching movies and cuddling and probably sharing an apartment
my crops are THRIVING
- - - - -
(Nate is holding the fishbowl staring at the turtle while Sophie lays with her head on his lap)
Sophie: Are you having a staring contest with a turtle?
Nate: No, I just won a staring contest with a turtle.
Sophie: Is it weird that I find that oddly attractive
nate and sophie were made for each other pass it on
also nate is fuckin WEIRD lmao casually having a staring contest with the turtle
+ I wonder what they did with the turtle after the con was over
- - - - -
Nate: Tonight? You think you can come up with a plan?
Parker: Already have. It's in one of my contingencies
MASTERMIND PARKER
- - - - -
Nate: Okay, Parker, how would you do it?
Parker: Cash flow starts there.
Parker: Every 20 minutes, a guard removes the collected cash from the box office.
Nate: And the guard carries the cash to Rising's office.
Parker: The cash is dropped into a specially designed lockbox. You can put things in, but only a bank official can open one up to take things out. It's like a mailbox you can carry.
Nate: And that is where Rising will add the extra cash to the lockbox. As long as no one looks too closely, they'll never know that it didn't come from legitimate ticket sales. It's classic money laundering.
Parker: Once the box office is closed, the lockbox is carried from Rising's office to a loading zone. An armored car picks it up, takes it to the bank. But we don't want to hit it in Rising's office -- too much attention.
Nate: And once the box is on the armored car, the bank's insurance kicks in, and Rising's protected against theft.
Parker: So, that just leaves one place.
Nate: Mm-hmm
M A S T E R M I N D P A R K E R
- - - - -
hardison had his arm stretched behind parker in the last scene where the team was overlooking the hockey ring
I am LOVING canon parker x hardison
now all we need is eliot to get in there too
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