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laurasinele:
Prompt 15: “That’s what I’m talking about!”
Fanfic from: Crash Pand/Logan Lucky (both 2017)
Tags: Stensland&Grady friendship, dialogue, dometic violence, weed, mentions of the events on Logan Lucky
Warnings: referenced domestic violence, use of drugs
Ao3
After an eternal shower, Stensland emerged to a lemon scented, radiant clean living room, clad in a fluffy bathrobe and a mint green flowery towel wrapped like a turban around his head.
“Grady! You didn’t have to! And where did you get that lemon scented cleaner?”
“From under the sink”, he deadpanned. “Right where I left it the last time I cleaned your house”
Stensland didn’t show any sign of guilt or a bad conscience. He dropped on the sofa, switched the TV on again and tapped the seat next to him for Grady to sit. When he did, Stensland crossed his legs, ignored the TV and adopted a conspiratorial air and tone.
“So. The Malcolms. I was at work, everything was fine and this middle-aged couple comes in looking for a full living room. I am the best-selling vendor. Well I was. Well no, I am because no-one has beaten my marks, not even Gonzalez, that filthy, slithering, rat…”
“To the point, sport”.
Keep reading
laurasinele:
Prompt 15: “That’s what I’m talking about!”
Fanfic from: Crash Pand/Logan Lucky (both 2017)
Tags: Stensland&Grady friendship, dialogue, dometic violence, weed, mentions of the events on Logan Lucky
Warnings: referenced domestic violence, use of drugs
Ao3
After an eternal shower, Stensland emerged to a lemon scented, radiant clean living room, clad in a fluffy bathrobe and a mint green flowery towel wrapped like a turban around his head.
“Grady! You didn’t have to! And where did you get that lemon scented cleaner?”
“From under the sink”, he deadpanned. “Right where I left it the last time I cleaned your house”
Stensland didn’t show any sign of guilt or a bad conscience. He dropped on the sofa, switched the TV on again and tapped the seat next to him for Grady to sit. When he did, Stensland crossed his legs, ignored the TV and adopted a conspiratorial air and tone.
“So. The Malcolms. I was at work, everything was fine and this middle-aged couple comes in looking for a full living room. I am the best-selling vendor. Well I was. Well no, I am because no-one has beaten my marks, not even Gonzalez, that filthy, slithering, rat…”
“To the point, sport”.
Keep reading