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#anyway i am old and cranky
evphorium · 3 days
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...why do people reach out to plot and then....don't?
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violet-ram · 1 year
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i started watching tfp and i feel like i might go insane yknow how it is folks. so here’s the picmix at 1 am pst
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woolandcoffee · 5 months
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Hozier was amazing. His voice is so rich and resonant in person, it was such a joy to listen to. And when he played Cherry Wine, he managed to make it feel like an intimate bar show instead of a packed amphitheater. Absolutely incredible to see live.
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listen if youre online arguing about what "true punk' is youre already too far gone. ok now that being said i have a secret opinion to share ⬇️
#i know how lame it is to care about ''posers'' like literally who cares we're all adults just do yo thang#but.............. the more time i spend in my local scene(s) the more i become aware of ppl who are like aspirationally alternative#like you wanna be edgy bc you think its badass and counterculture#but you dont have the backbone to do anything for yourself without worrying about how others will see you#like youre so deadset on fitting in to this one subculture but you seemingly dont particularly like anything about it?#all you want is to look cool in front of your peers so you just absorb whatever is popular with them at the time.#opinions music attitude appearance all based on whatevers trendy. which we're all guilty of i know#but why try so hard to fit into this idealistic 'punk' label. it sucks and is so lame and everyone can tell how hard youre posturing#and not to throw stones in glass houses but these ppl r so awful to talk to#seemingly never attempted an original thought in their life. speaks exclusively in twitter/tiktok/tumblr memes or buzzwords#never really listens to you and only factors in your opinion after he's run it by the ppl he wants to fit in with#um i mean they 🧍#could be thinking of a specific guy i know. maybe#anyways i think im discovering in real time what a ''poser'' is and its making me feel like a cranky old man#always have to remind myself to be empathetic and not judge too harshly bc literally who am i and who cares#but it still gets my goat occasionally!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
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velocitic · 1 year
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(putting up a sign that says beware of dog hes hungry)
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indigodawns · 1 year
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strang3lov3 · 1 year
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Bath & Body Works
Mall Rats 2! Can be read alone. But if you want-- read Mall Rats 1 here
Summary: You'll drag Joel kicking and screaming into your bubble bath if it's the last thing you do.
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A/N: I am stoked about this one!
Warnings: smut, fingering, handjobs, oral sex (f receiving), rubber ducky, joel is extra cranky, dirty talk, forced bubble bath with a grumpy old man, soapy tiddies, rubber duckies, country apple scented bubble baths
WC: 3.2k
You’re going through your bag of goodies from your first trip to the mall with Joel. You’ve got your undies and bras from Victoria’s Secret, along with some candles and stuff from Bath and Body Works. 
You would have picked out more, but Joel was throwing a bitch fit about how you were taking too long to pick out body sprays and whatnot.
“Jesus, Mary, and Joseph…just fuckin’ pick one already. They all smell like chemicals and girl. I’m gettin’ a migraine.”
“From all the smells?”
“No. You.” You ignored him and searched for body wash to match your body sprays and lotions. “C’mon. Shake a leg, sweetheart.”
“I need body wash. I can’t find it.”
“Here” Joel grabbed a random ass bottle, shoved it in your bag, wrapped his hand around your forearm and dragged your ass out of Bath and Body Works. “It’s all the same shit anyway.”
Now you’re pulling out that random ass bottle of what Joel had deemed as the same shit as body wash. And it’s not the same shit. At all. 
Relaxing Bath Bubbles
Country Apple 
Awh, shit. Guess you’re about to give Joel another migraine. 
You walk over to his house and knock on his door, your backpack full of your Bath and Body Works goodies. Rubber duckies too. You snagged them from a broken claw machine in the mall. 
Knock knock knock knock knock
“Joel, open up.”
You knock some more. Joel opens the door clad in nothing but plaid boxers, his eyes squinting and his hair wild. “The fuck do you want?”
“Need to use your bathroom,” you say. “Now. It’s an emergency.”
Joel raises an eyebrow. “Why? You know what, I don’t wanna know. Just make it quick.”
He’s perplexed, but he leads you to his ensuite bathroom anyway. He says Ellie’s bathroom downstairs is heinous. You enter the bathroom and shut the door, and Joel lays on his bed as he scribbles in his book of crossword puzzles.
The first thing you notice about Joel’s bathroom is how nice it is. Spacious, a deep and wide circular inset bathtub. How he scored this, you don’t know. You strip, leaving your clothes in a pile on the floor then fill up the tub with hot water. You toss your duckies in the water, dump some Country Apple bubble bath in the tub and watch the bubbles emerge, then light your Bath and Body Works candles and turn out the lights. 
The water is soothing and the bubbles smell nice. You lean back in the tub and relax, watching your little rubber duckies float through the bubbles.
Only when half an hour goes by does Joel realize something’s up. He’s been stuck on his puzzle for the last ten minutes and completely forgot that you’re in the bathroom. He shuts his crossword puzzle book in frustration, sets it on his nightstand and turns out the light in his room. 
The flicker of your candles through the cracks of the bathroom door catches his eye. Confused, he decides to investigate. He’s about to knock on the door when he hears a splash. 
Joel doesn’t have time for this. He barges in to find you soaking in his tub, surrounded by candles and rubber ducks. He looks like he’s gonna have a conniption fit.
“Oh, finally,” you say excitedly. “Been waiting for you.”
Irritated doesn’t even begin to describe the expression on Joel’s face at how shockingly cavalier you are about bathing in his tub. “The fuck are you doing in here?”
“Using your bathroom.” 
“You said it was an emergency.”
“Correct,” you reach for the bottle of apple scented bubble bath and toss it to Joel. “Emergency indeed.”
“We need to go over what constitutes an emergency, then. Because this shit is not an emergency. Not in the slightest.”
“It is, actually,” you counter. “That’s bubble bath. Not body wash. They are not the same.”
 Joel looks at you and he’s not sure which of you has a screw loose, but clearly something’s not right here. You fill one of your rubber duckies with water and squirt him on his tummy “The fuck is the matter with you?” he snaps. Joel snatches the toy from your hand and tosses it behind you, so you fill another ducky with water and squirt him again. “Get your ass out of my tub and go home.” 
“Take it up with Tommy. My tub’s broken. He said he’d fix it but he never did. He said to use yours.”
“Tommy did not say that.” 
“You weren’t there. You don’t know.”
“You know what? M’not doing this. Out. Now,” Joel takes a step forward and reaches his arm through the bathwater to find the drain stopper. You grab hold of his arm, biting your bottom lip as you smile mischievously. Joel glares at you. “Don’t.”
You squeeze his forearm tighter and pull with all of your might. Joel tumbles forward into the bath, water splashes over the edge of the tub and floods the floor below. Joel emerges from the water gasping. “God bless it,”  and pushes his hair out of his face, then wipes his eyes and turns to you. The look on his face pierces daggers right through you. 
In a ballsy move, before he can stand up and step out of the tub, you slide over and sit your ass on his lap. You lean back to force him against the edge of the tub. “That’s better,” you say. “Need you to be my pillow. Your tub’s uncomfortable as fuck.”
“Not gonna be your anything. Get the fuck out of my tub or so help me god I will–”
“Joel, shut up. I’m trying to relax. And you should too, because you’re kind of a crankerpuss.”
Joel scowls. “Do not call me that.” 
“Well, you’re being very hostile right now.”
Oh, he’ll show you hostile alright. You don’t know the first thing about hostility. Joel’s about to pick you up and throw your ass out of the–
Nope. Bad idea. 
It’ll make an even bigger mess on the floor. You’re not worth the water damage. And then you’ll slip and fall, crack your skull open and there’ll be blood everywhere. Hiding the body will be Joel’s next step and he’s not in the mood for that. And of course, inevitably, you’ll knock over one of your candles and set Joel’s bathroom ablaze. 
So Joel shimmies off his boxers and tosses them over the edge of the tub. They land with a wet plop. He leans back with you still on his lap, accepting his fate as your human pillow. 
“Isn’t this nice?” you ask sweetly.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Shut up.”
So you quiet down and settle against Joel’s torso as best you can. Except as the minutes pass, he still won’t relax. He’s stiff as a board. His hands are in fists, resting on either side of his thighs. He’s practicing his deep breaths and going over the serenity prayer in his head. Lord, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.
“You seem tense,” 
“Mm,” Joel says. “Wonder why. What a mystery this is. I’m stumped, truly.”
“You tend to run hot. You know. Short fuse,” 
“You tend to drive me fuckin’ nuts,” he counters. You scoop up some bubbles in your hand, and Joel grabs your wrist and shoves it back underwater. “Knock it off. S’not playtime.”
You turn so you’re facing Joel and straddled on his thighs. You lift up on your knees, reaching behind Joel to grab a couple of towels. You drive him nuts, but at least he’s getting a nice view of your soapy tits. Pros and cons. 
You fold the towel and set it behind Joel to support and cushion his neck. “Is this nicer?” you ask. 
“It’d be nice if you weren’t here. See enough of ya already.”
“Get used to it,” you reply. “Got a whole lotta mall left to explore.”
“Don’t remind me.”
You don’t bother responding. Instead, you reach for a rag and a bar of soap and begin to lather it. You lift Joel’s arm up and begin scrubbing his skin gently. 
“Quit it,” he snaps, yanking the rag from you. “Washed earlier.”
Your feelings are a little hurt and you frown. “I’m trying to be nice.”
“Don’t need you to be nice to me. Need you to get out of my house. Now finish your bath.”
You grab the bar of soap again, this time without the rag. You lather it between your hands and reach for Joel’s arm once more, this time putting more emphasis on massaging him and less on cleaning.
This, he seems more receptive to. He lets out a little sigh and his head falls back on the towel you folded for him. You massage down his arm, letting your fingers squeeze and work his biceps, then his forearm, the palm of his hand and even his fingers. Your hand accidentally nudges his half hard cock, but he doesn’t startle or move you away. 
You’re thinking about his cock. You haven’t really seen it, hardly felt it. In a seamless transition, your hand leaves Joel’s and you reach between your bodies to play with his member. He grows hard with your touch, you can feel it. In your palm, he’s thick, heavy, and long. You trace your finger over the prominent vein that climbs up his length. 
Joel sighs and reaches for your hand that’s working his shaft. “What are you doin’,” he sighs. 
“Rub-a-dub-dubbing you.”
You think your eyes deceive you as a flicker of a smirk graces Joel’s face. It’s gone in an instant, but you saw it. You’ll have to alert the media. 
“Charming,” he mumbles. 
You continue massaging his member. You’re thankful that the bubble bath led you to this moment here with Joel, but disappointed that the bubbles are hindering your view. You slide your hand up and down, letting your thumb swipe over his swollen tip. 
“Feel good?” 
“S’good, honey. Yeah, so fuckin’ good. Keep it up.”
Joel’s leaning into it now. Melting like a candle. Eyes fluttered shut, lips slightly parted as a symphony of curses and pretty noises escape his mouth.
“Fuck, darlin’. Squeezin’ me s’good.”
 His chest is rising and falling unsteadily. The flickering candlelight bounces off of his skin and gives his face a warm glow. He’s got both hands on the globes of your ass cheeks, sliding over the expanse of skin. Up your waist and down your thighs, loving every inch of your body. 
You lean forward and hold onto his shoulder with your free hand while you stroke him with your other. You dip your head lower to kiss and nip at his jaw and neck. His skin is warm and fragrant like the bubble bath. 
One of Joel’s hands slither between your bodies and he cups your mound. His fingers reach lower to trace lazy circles into your clit. You pump him faster as he plays with you, soft breaths and groans falling from his lips. “Y’got it, sweetheart. Just like that. Just like–ohh, fffuck.”  He squeezes your ass tight as he finds his release, his body tensing and twitching under your touch. He lets out deep and guttural groans, music to your ears. 
He’s coming down from his high, still mindlessly tracing your pussy with his thick fingers. You’re watching as his breathing slows. He’s finally relaxed. And they said it couldn’t be done!
And just then, one of your little rubber duckies floats between you and Joel. The duck wears a mischievous smile. It’s like it’s thinking what you’re thinking. 
Subtly, oh so subtly, you reach for the ducky and squeeze it, then open your fist slightly and let it fill up. Joel’s eyes are still closed and he’s breathing peacefully as you hold the duck level with his face. You squeeze the ducky once more, and a thin stream of water squirts from the duck’s beak and onto Joel’s cheek. Got his ass. 
Joel opens his eyes slowly, his previously soft expression now harsh and irritated. Joel reaches for the duck. “You squirt me with that thing one more time…” he takes it from your hand, “Watch what happens.”
You bite back a smile. 
“Keep it up,” Joel growls. “Now sit back down and spread your legs. Water’s gettin’ cold.”
He’s got a soft spot for you, believe it or not. His brain is telling him to kick your country apple scented ass out the door, but his heart’s telling him to let you stay a while longer. He is a gentleman with principles, after all. A lady should always finish. 
“Wider,” he says. “Open up.”
He uses his strong, masculine hands to grip your thighs and spread them apart, but he doesn’t have to do anything. You oblige to his request immediately. He toys with your clit, circling and swirling his fingers over the sensitive bud before dipping his middle finger inside of you and chuckling. “Hmm,” he hums. “Selective hearing.” “What?”
“Nothin’,” he mumbles. “Just think it’s funny how ya only listen t’me when you’ve got my hand or my cock between your thighs.”
You answer him with a soft moan and scoot closer to him, wrapping your arms around him and nuzzling your face into the crook of his neck as he pumps his finger inside you, feeling how warm and wet you are. 
“So this is what it’s gonna take, hmm? To get you to be a good girl for me?”
“More,” you breathe. 
Joel inserts a second finger and you gasp. “Jesus, girl. M’gonna get carpal tunnel tryna get you to behave yourself.”
“Carpal what-el?”
“Don’t worry about it, pretty girl. S’nothin’.”
You whimper as his thumb swipes your clit and his fingers pump inside you. You hold his shoulders for stability as you grind your pelvis against his palm, rocking the water all over the place, over the tub. The waves bounce high and into Joel’s mouth, he’s annoyed as he spits out some bubbles. You may have overfilled the tub. 
“Y’need to sit still,” he says. “Makin’ a goddamn mess.”
“Sorry,” you rasp.
But the splashing continues. Joel gets an idea then. He pulls his hand away from your core. 
“No,” you whine. “Don’t stop, Joel, please–”
“Lookit that, usin’ your manners. Bein’ so nice,” Joel praises you. “You’re fine,” he coos softly. “Not goin’ anywhere. M’right here with you.”
Joel adjusts a few towels on the tile surrounding the tub, making a nice little bed for you. He lays you on the towel, watching as beads of water fall from your body and your legs dangle in the tub. He pulls you close, then licks one long stripe up your pussy.
“Yeah, that, keep doing that,” you beg.
“Not plannin’ on stoppin,” Joel chuckles, his low voice sending vibrations through your sex. “Gonna take my time with your sweet pussy.”
Joel does just that. He licks from bottom to top, top to bottom. He tastes every inch of you, from your slick folds to your clit and back down to your entrance. He flattens his tongue wide against you, lapping at your cunt and savoring the taste of your arousal. He loves the sinful, wet noises your pussy makes. 
You tug on Joel’s wet strands of salt and pepper hair, pulling him as close as you can get him. “I know, gorgeous. I got ya,” he whispers. 
Joel pushes two fingers inside you once more, this time curling them upward to find that sweet spot inside you. You kick your legs, splashing even more water than before. You’ve got an iron grip on his damp curls, twitching and shuddering with every flick of his tongue and sending water flying. 
This whole eating you out to keep you from flooding the bathroom thing didn’t go as planned. But Joel’s a trooper. He’ll soldier on and mop up your mess later. He firmly grips the area behind your knees, lifting your legs from the water and pushing them apart. They sit high at your hips, he has you in a vulnerable position. He devours you and holds you close with a certain tenderness, and you know you’re in good hands. 
“Mmmm,” you moan. “S’good, fuck.”
“Got a dirty mouth, hon. You know that?”
You do know that, but you can’t respond. The only thing you can do is whimper and make those sweet, sweet noises that Joel loves so much. “Keep makin’ those pretty noises, sweetheart.” he whispers as you squirm against him. He holds you tighter, keeping you still as he brings you to the edge. His fingers and tongue working relentlessly to make you dizzy.
“Gonna, fuck. M’gonna come, Joel. Please, please–” 
“Come on my tongue,” Joel tells you. “Let go f’me. Give me a good one, sweetheart. Wanna taste it. Wanna taste all of you.”
With his words and ministrations inside you, along with his tongue dancing on your clit, you dissolve under him. Pure pleasure courses through your veins, beginning deep in the pit of your stomach and washing over you, your torso and thighs. Joel’s name is the only word you know at this moment. You sing it like a hymn, worshiping the man who makes you see stars. 
Your head feels fuzzy. You’re hardly aware that Joel’s now kissing his way up your body, over your tummy and your ribcage. He kisses one of your breasts, then the other. He flicks his tongue over one nipple and lightly pinches and twists the other. “Didn’t get to give these tits of yours enough lovin’,” he mumbles. 
It’s touching. He’s such a good lover, but such a forgetful man. Guess what’s sitting right next to you.
Yup. Rubber ducky. 
Joel’s still kissing and massaging your tits, and you quietly reach for the duck. You squirt him right between the eyes. 
Joel snatches the toy from your hand. “Where do you keep finding these fuckin’ ducks?!”
You shrug and giggle, then Joel pulls away from you. He pulls the drain stopper, then dries you and himself off with fresh towels. “Alright,” he says. “You had your bath and then some. Get lost.”
You pout. “You’re not gonna walk me home? It’s late.”
“Nope.” Joel bites his cheek, knowing he’s not actually gonna kick you out to walk home alone. You’re making him soft, and he hates it. “Fine,” he concedes. “Get in bed.”
You giggle and make your way to his bed, watching Joel mop up your mess in the bathroom. He blows out the candles and returns to you. “M’way too fuckin’ nice to ya,” he grumbles. 
“Eh,” you shrug. “Could be nicer.”
Please comment/reblog if you enjoyed! Send me asks! Your interaction means the world and keeps me going!
Part 3
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bountydroid · 5 months
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Darlin' pt 5
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pt 1 / pt 2 / pt 3 / pt 4 / pt6
Cooper Howard/The Ghoul x f!reader (Slowburn romance)
Description: Cooper starts to soften up.
Notes: This one is a bit longer! I might be a little slower between parts from now on as it is finals season and I'll be graduating with my bachelor's degree (yay!) plus I work full time. As always, any critiques are welcome!
The air between us after the hug attempt was thick with tension. We walked in silence as we made our way into the wasteland, clear tracks in the sand making the target easy to follow. I was sure that the look on my face was pathetic, like a kicked puppy. I tried to hide my hurt at first, but it didn't seem like he cared much since he had hardly even glanced at me since we left Ma June's shop anyway. At least I had Whilzig's dog. I knew he was just there to help us track his master, but his presence felt comforting. Without him, I think the tension between Cooper and I would be too much to handle. 
I glanced over at the ghoul every so often. I was hoping I would catch him glancing back, a sign that he did in fact, give a damn about me. I felt deflated. Any hope I had about his feelings for me had vanished. 
I let a quiet sigh escape my lips as I looked down at my feet. 
This seemed to get his attention as he stopped in his tracks and whipped around to face me. "Stop it." He said sternly, a look of annoyance on his face.
I was sure that my face did little to hide the horror I felt at his reaction. "I am just tired." I tried to lie.
"Sure." He said back, crossing his arms. He clearly knew I was lying.
I felt anger prickle up inside me. "Why are you looking at me like I did something wrong? I didn't." I exclaimed. "I hugged my friend. At least I thought I did."
He didn't respond to this, instead opting to look out into the never-ending sand.
"Let's just keep going," I mumbled as I stomped past him.
Growing up I loved the sun. I loved to feel its warm rays on my skin as it shined through the window. Now? Now I hated it. We had barely been in the Wasteland that long, and I already felt like the heat was suffocating me. It didn't seem to bother Cooper though. He showed no sign of tiring or discomfort. "One of the perks of being a ghoul I guess." I thought to myself bitterly.
After what felt like ages, our furry companion barked and started running towards a large piece of metal. Cooper and I exchanged looks before picking up our pace to catch up to him. 
"What the hell?" I mumbled as I pinched my nose and looked away from the headless body.
Cooper crouched down next to Whilzig, a look of mild confusion on his face before looking out into the wasteland. One of his coughing fits started as he took his pack off of his shoulder and put it on the ground, rummaging through it. He found what he was looking for quickly, a metal tin with a couple of vials of Jet inside. Despite being angry with him, I looked down at him, concern evident on my face. Almost like he could sense it, he looked up at me as he put the vial into his inhaler. His eyes closed and a look of relief washed over his face as he breathed it in. He let out one more soft wheeze as he collected himself. 
"Cooper?" I asked softly. 
"Yeah, Darlin'?" He replied while getting up from the ground.
"I'm sorry." I started. "I am sorry for huggin' you. I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable."
His eyes bore into me while he contemplated his response. "You're okay Darlin'." He said quietly. "I am just an ill-tempered old man."
I let out a small giggle. "I would've said cranky, but ill-tempered is a nicer way to put it."
He let out a loud bark of a laugh in response. "Come on let's go find the rest of im'." He said as he patted my shoulder.
As we started to walk away from the body, Cooper let out a clicking noise, getting the dog's attention. The dog barked in response as he chased after us.
"How old are you anyway?" I ask curiously.
He hummed in response, "Old."
I decided not to press it further, his short response suggesting it wasn't something he wanted to discuss. This time, our silent march was much more pleasant. The tension from earlier was gone. I was exceeding grateful for this change. As the sun started to set, I felt relieved. The heat didn't feel quite as terrible as the sun started to fade behind the horizon.
"Good a spot as any," Cooper said as he peaked inside a half-crumbled building. 
I sighed in relief. "God my feet are killing me. I think I've done more walkin' with you than I have in my entire life."
He let out a breathy laugh, "And you are gonna do a lot more, sugar."
It didn't take long for me to fall asleep in the sand curled up next to Whilzig's dog.
-
I slowly peeled my eyes open as I felt someone gently shaking me. My bleary eyes peered up to see the face of my traveling companion.
"Mornin' Darlin'." He smirked at my dazed and exhausted face. "Sleep well?"
I just grumbled in response. I slowly raised to my feet, wincing as the pressure on them began to build. I felt his eyes on me as he raised his bag to his shoulder. I sighed as I reached down to pick up my bag as well. 
"When we get this bounty, I am gonna sleep for a week." I say with a soft groan.
"Gimme that." He said as he ripped my bag from my hands and threw it over his empty shoulder. He chuckled at the surprised look on my face. "Can't have your pretty ass slowin' me down."
I stood there for a moment and replayed our exchange in my head before finally running after him. "He keeps calling me pretty." I think to myself while a blush creeps over my cheeks.
"You know," I started, feeling bold. "I think we are a great team."
He glanced over at me, an amused look on his face. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." I hummed happily. "I am really glad I met you." 
An unrecognizable look washed over his face. Hesitation? Confusion? Fear? It looked like all of those emotions, all at once.
I gave him a weary smile, "Even if you won't let me hug you." I admit.
He hesitated, almost looking like he was going to say something before he stopped himself. 
"Hey, Dog Meat!" He yelled up at the dog, "Don't go far."
"Dog Meat?" I mused, "Really?"
"That's what he is, ain't he?" he replied, smirking.
I knew he was trying to change the subject. He was uncomfortable again. So, I decided to let him as I let out a small giggle. "Sure, Cooper."
We continued along, getting closer and closer to the derelict city. The silence was only interrupted by the occasional bark from Dog Meat. We happened upon an oasis, the water inviting, almost trying to trick me into taking a dip. I knew better than that. We could hear a commotion in front of us as we started to slow down, quieting our footsteps. Cooper turned to me and put a finger to his lips, silently shushing me. Someone else was there. The bounty?
 No, it was the vaultie. I stayed behind as Cooper snuck up behind her. She only noticed his presence once she heard the cock of his gun.
"Hello again." She said, her eyes filled with fear.
He greeted her by hitting her over the head with the butt of his gun. I grimaced as she fell to the ground. 
"Where is it?" He snarled. "The head."
She whimpered on the ground quietly while Cooper picked up her bag and emptied the contents into the dirt.
Cooper got angry as he realized the head wasn't there. He cocked his gun again, ready to shoot her. 
"Okay, okay, I don't know where it is. Okay? I lost it." The vaultie begged. "I lost it."
Cooper let out a soft hum as he looked around, it seemed like he already knew what he was looking for when he put his boot in a pile of dung. I made a disgusted face.
"Did you seriously have to do that?" I mumbled. This brought the vaultie's attention to me. She was so caught up in her fear of Cooper she didn't even realize I was there.
"A gulper got it, huh?" He said as he turned back to the vaultie before grabbing her by the hair. 
She cried as she begged for mercy as he dragged her to the dock. Once there, he tied a rope with an anchor on the end around her body as well as bound her feet. I just watched from afar, feeling slightly bad for the girl. Dog Meat was barking so loudly I could hardly hear them.
"Stop! Please!" She begged as she wiggled, trying to break free. "My dad, he's an overseer. He got taken by Raiders and I need that head to get him back. If you help me find him, he'll do whatever you want!"
Instead of responding, Cooper just pushed her into the water. The rope she was bound with was connected to a piece of metal I did not recognize, but it kept her from sinking to the bottom. She splashed around as she panicked. 
"Stop! Stop! Torture is wrong!" She cried out when he brought her back up out of the water.
Cooper let out a scoff. "You know, they used to do these things called studies. Why, you couldn't open a newspaper without reading about one study or another. Anyways, one particular study came out and it said torturing a person, don't do shit." He replied as he dropped her back into the water briefly before bringing her up again. "It made sense. I mean a man hurts me? I wouldn't want to do him any favors. And yet the practice of torture failed to vanish from this earth. In fact, as time marches on, I've personally noticed a decided uptick in the amount of torture being doled out across the board." He continued as he picked off a small creature from her back and fed it to Dog Meat.
"Sir, please. I need the head. It's the only way I can get my father back." The vaultie begged again. I admired her spirit. I debated asking Cooper to stop, but I bit my tongue instead.
"My point is," Cooper replied, ignoring her pleas. "If you ask me, them studies, they were right. Torturing a person don't do shit."
"Then why are you doing this?" She asked, exasperated. 
"Well, I ain't torturing you, sweetheart. I'm using you as bait." He explained before dunking her in the water again. I hated to admit it, but I felt a tiny bit of jealousy in my chest at the nickname. I knew I shouldn't be jealous, he obviously held little love for her.
Cooper started to whistle as he got closer to the edge of the dock like he was beckoning something near. It was at this point that I realized I had been slowly inching closer to them this whole time as my feet finally met the dock.
"What is a gulper?" I asked Cooper curiously.
"A monster, darlin'. Careful." He said, realizing how close I was getting to the water. He grabbed his knife off the wooden box he put it on earlier and tied a rope around it. He clearly had a plan.
The vaultie started crying out in the water and flailing around even more than usual. This caused Cooper to try and lift her out of the water again, but the machine he was using was stuck. 
"Cooper!" I cried out, realizing she was going to drown.
He sprang into action as he grabbed a hook, moving the entire machine to pull her out. As she was pulled onto the dock, a giant pink creature followed her. He was right. That was a monster. I ran up to the vaultie and grabbed her shoulders as I tried to pull her away, but the anchor tied around her was stuck in the gulper's mouth. She kicked at the creature violently as Cooper stuck it with his knife. The gulper got ahold of her leg and swung her around, pushing me into the water. I thrashed around as I tried to find something to hold onto. 
"Cooper!" I yelled before I finally was able to grasp ahold of the dock. I could hear the tussle above me and the gulper finally cry out and fall back into the water. 
I could hear Cooper gasping for air as he crawled over to me. "Give me your hand, sugar."
I quickly did as I was told. He pulled me out of the water and onto the dock with ease. He got up and looked out into the water, wincing as he realized the head was gone once again.
"Cooper," I said softly. "Your bag."
He moved swiftly, going straight for his tin of Jet. At the realization that it was completely crushed he pointed his gun back at the vaultie.
"Motherfucker!" He shouted angrily.
"Oh, I'm sorry. I should've just let you use me as bait in a poison river!" The vaultie yelled back.
Cooper lowered his gun before turning back around to the water. "Fuck!" He screamed.
I finally stood up and waddled my way over to him. My clothes were soaked, uncomfortably sticking to my skin. This caught his attention, he put his hand on my cheek as he briefly scanned my body, looking for injuries. "I am fine." I hummed, my heart squeezing in my chest at his show of affection. It wasn't much, but it showed how much he cared.
"You can't treat people like this!" The vaultie interrupted.
"Yeah, why's that?" Cooper asked, his mind obviously elsewhere. 
"Because of the golden rule." She said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Do unto others as you would have done unto you."
I gave her an amused look as I let out a small laugh. "The golden rule, huh? I don't think he follows that."
"Those gulpers digest real slow. You got time." Cooper said to himself.
I put the hand on his shoulder reassuringly, pulling him from his thoughts. He looked at me for a second before hurrying over to pick up our bags. "We gotta go." He pulled out his lasso and made his way to the vaultie.
"No. no, no, no, no." She begged as he put it around her neck. "Where are we going? What about the head? I need the head to get my dad back."
"Yeah, well, the wasteland's got its own golden rule," Cooper replied, dragging her along.
"Yeah, what's that?" She asked.
"Thou shalt get sidetracked by bullshit every goddamn time." Cooper sighed.
"What about the dog?" I asked, scurrying after him.
"He ain't ours." He responded curtly.
I frowned at him. I had gotten attached to Dog Meat, but the determined expression on Cooper's face kept me quiet. Wherever we were going, it was important.
Tag list: @msrawog @valdemarismynonbinarylove @topiramateagreeable @whizbang-cap @sitkafay @lightan117 @eykismyfav @ajeff855 @madelinealexandra @justme12200 @sihlaryn @raviolisenpai @ellabellabunny123 @impossessedbyjeongyeon @leviathanleva @v3lv3tf0x @judgementdays-girl
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Hiii love 🩷
Could you please make a reader X Tommy, where you take care of Charlie and he slowly falls in love with the reader. At first he denies it but after sometime he can’t take it anymore !! Fluff and happy ending please
Love your writing by the way ⭐️🩷
Hey Lovelie! Thank you so much for this request and the lovely comment , I’d gladly do this for you!
Italics: flashback.
I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO REPOST THIS ANYWAY ELSE OR TRANSLATION OF THIS FIC.
Summery: request above
[Y/N]: Your name
[L/N]: Last name.
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Word count: 2,516
Thomas Shelby. The name of the man that you have loved for the past two years. The man you knew would change your life the moment you set foot into his office for an interview to be a live in maid for his young son, charlie.
The blood pumped through your veins, making your head feel like it would burst at any point. You sent an application to Thomas Shelby secretary for the job but you did not expect to get an answer. So when you got a reply asking for an interview less then three days later, the shock that you were in was explainable.
You knock on the door, waiting to hear the voice of the man you were secretly afraid of.
“ come in” the voice vibrates through the atmosphere
You turn the old doorknob then push the door open, gliding your body through the door. The sound of the door creaking made Tommy lift his head up from his paperwork.
The feeling of your world stops as you make eye contact for the first time with the man with the eyes that could kill.
One month into the job
Thomas smiles slightly and takes off his jacket just as Francis rushes over to him.
“Good evening mr Shelby, dinner should be served soon” the middle aged woman explained, taking Thomas jacket gently.
Thomas doesn’t say a word, taking a cigarette out of his pouch from his trouser pocket. He looks towards Francis, lighting the cigarette.
“Where’s my son?” He questioned curiously.
Before tommys maid could respond, Charlie rushes around the corner from the main room “ daddy” he squeals, running towards Tommy.
Thomas kneels down “ Charlie, my boy” he catches Charlie as he jumps into his arms, Thomas stands up with Charlie in his arms.
Soon after, [Y/N] rushes around the corner with a face that can only be described as anxious. Her face was shiny most likely from running after the young boy.
“I am so sorry mr Shelby, i tried to stop him. I know you don’t like to be disrupted after work. I promise, I’ll make sure it won’t happen tomorrow” she rambles, clearly nervous that Thomas would be mad.
“No need to apologise, make sure that he is calm before he goes to bed, don’t want him to be cranky tomorrow” Thomas smirks slightly and gives Charlie over to [Y/N].
She nodded and quickly walks away, Charlie on his hip. Unknowingly, to [Y/N] mr Shelby was watching her with curiosity plaguing his mind.
Three months into the job.
Charlie had gone missing. Someone had taken him when Tommy was distracted with the guests, during a work event, he hadn’t noticed his young son being carried out through the door by a woman that passed as a maid.
Three hours had passed since [Y/N] had seen the young boy, she was nervously pacing the house, biting her already broken and fragile nails. An anxious trait she’s had since she was a young girl.
The sound of the front door rattling invaded the already chaotic atmosphere of the manor. The banging of doors signalled that Tommy was in his “beast mode”. This is when Tommy is on a mission and if you get in his way, you’ll most likely land with a bullet between your eyes. However, that hadn’t stopped The young maid. [Y/N] opened the door of Charlie’s room and begins to rush her sore feet towards the grand stairs.
“ mr Shelby” she calls out “ oh mr Shelby, is young Charlie been found” she asks, her voice full of worry.
[Y/N] stops her running when she sees the distressed young boy in his father’s arms, nearly making herself fall from the suddenness of the movement.
“ Francis take Charles” Thomas orders sternly, passing him over to his only trusted maid from that moment on.
The older maid nods and takes Charlie, taking the toddler upstairs. The air is so brittle, from the tension, it could snap. If it doesn’t, [Y/N] might. No one speaks, what is there to say?. [Y/N] could feel the fear in her chest waiting to take over her. Perhaps it was only there to protect her but there really isn’t any danger to be protected from. It sits there like an angry ball, propelling [Y/N] towards an anxiety she doesn’t need.
“ where were you miss [L/N]” Tommy questions, accusation filling his voice. His eyes could kill anyone. Those eyes are ocean-strong, swimming with warm sun-lit currents.
[Y/N] gulps, her throat feeling as if it was closing in on it self. Her mouth parts slightly but no words come out. Eventually, words were able to escape.
“ I’m so sorry mr Shelby, I looked away from him for one second, he wanted me to get his toy horse that he dropped, I gave him to another woman, she was dressed in a maids uniform” she explains, her eyes filling with unreleased tears.
Tommy sighs, watching as the young maid clearly showing signs of distress.
“ go back to work” the older man states, passing Charlie back over to [Y/N].
The young maid immediately takes Charlie into her arms, using one of her hands to wipe under her eyes “ of course mr Shelby” she nods.
As [Y/N] walks away, Tommy speaks up again “ have you had dinner miss [L/N]”.
“ no I have not mr.Shelby” [Y/N] replies, turning back around by the stairs, Charlie playing with her short hair.
Tommy nods “ after you put Charlie to bed, come to the kitchen, there will be food there for you” the older man announces, walking down the corridor towards the door leading to the kitchen.
As the months pass, Tommy and [Y/N] work relationship shifted, everybody can see it has except for the pair in question.
However, Tommy wouldn’t admit it. He still feels like he is in love with his deceased wife grace, he can’t get himself to move on. On the other hand, [Y/N] knew of her feelings towards her boss, who wouldn’t? Especially when you boss looks like Thomas fucking Shelby.
Present day
Over the past years that [Y/N] has worked for Tommy, she had gotten close to the women of the Shelby family, mainly polly. When [Y/N] wasn’t working, she was with polly.
Today was one of those days. Today, [Y/N] was helping polly with the books at the Shelby company betting shop. Tommy had given her the next few days off since she had worked for two weeks straight since Charlie was poorly with a fever.
“ fucking men” Polly grumbles, slamming down the book full of incorrect numbers and calculations.
[Y/N] chuckles from across the room as she corrects Arthur’s calculations “ men never cease to amaze you, do they pol?” She raises an eyebrow.
Polly lights her cigarette, taking a long inhale of the hazardous smoke “we are working our asses off whilst the men sit on theirs at the pub, getting god knows how drunk” the middled aged women rants, pointing to the door.
Polly smirks as she stands up “ come on, let’s go” Polly encourages, grabbing her purse.
[Y/N] frowns, dropping her pencil “ where are you going lol?” She asks confused but her eyes full of wonder at what Polly was planning.
“ I know a woman who knows a woman, she told me that the ladies of small heath are going out on strike, by the factories” Polly places her deep red hat on her curly brown hair as she raises an eyebrow at [Y/N].
The younger woman laughs “ you can’t be serious pol, Tommy would have your head” she warns.
“ not if he won’t find me” Polly puts her coat on.
[Y/N] bites her lip, she was conflicted. Her brain turns and twists as she argues with herself internally but eventually, only one side of her could win.
[Y/N] nods “ fuck em” she stands up “ I worked two weeks with his sick child and nothing but a thanks and a few days off work” [Y/N] rants, grabbing her coat.
Polly watches “ that’s my girl”.
Once the two woman get their stuff together, they walk out of the betting shop, Polly placing her sunglasses on her face, the women ignoring the men outside of the betting shop.
[Y/N] chuckles as she links her arm with pollys as they walk together towards the factories to join the woman of small heath.
The garrison pub
The Shelby men sat inside of their private corner room, celebrating Arthur’s recent news of Linda’s pregnancy. What they didn’t expect was another member of the blinders to come in and announce the women’s strike.
Tommy was about to make a speech when the door opens. A young man taking off his cap quickly catches his breath.
“ I’m sorry to disturb you mr Shelby, but I’ve just got word that mrs gray and miss [L/N} have walked out of the shop, claiming that they are striking for women’s rights in the work place” he explains.
Tommy raises an eyebrow, Arthur immediately standing up “ they what?” His drunken voice ripples through the small private room and into the main area of the pub.
Tommy holds his hand out to his brother “ now brother, this will be sorted” he stands up and grabs his cap, immediately following the younger member out of the pub, and towards where his aunt and his maid were currently causing chaos.
The Factories
The sound of the women cheering and chanting blocked the ability for [Y/N] ears to identity the sound of Tommy’s feet but as soon as his hand wrapped its self around her arm, she knew who it was and she knew she was in deep trouble.
Tommy’s breath sends goosebumps down her back as he leans down to speak into her ear “ come with me. Now” his voice quiet but clearly filled with demand.
[Y/N] didn’t say anything, her feet moving themselves in the direction that Tommy was guiding her. As they get further and further away from the other women, the noise of the chaos was slowly fading out.
“ Tommy, tommy please listen” [Y/N] began to protest but Tommy quickly cuts in.
“ what were you thinking [Y/N]. Do you know what this can do to the company” he states, letting go of her arm.
“ it’s not that serious tommy, me and pol weren’t protesting we were just watching” [Y/N] defends herself.
Tommy was about to respond when the sound of the police invading the strike, and women screaming as they get arrested. [Y/N] gasps as she gets shoved onto the floor, the wet gravel of small heaths pavements make contact with her hands. Small but painful cuts develop on her palms.
“ watch it” tommy yells at the woman that shoved [Y/N], clearly trying to run from the police.
“ I’m okay” [Y/N] reassures Tommy as she gently grabs his hand and stands up, Tommy patting down her dress since it had got mudded by the mud puddle on the path.
“ let’s go” Tommy grabs her hand and begins to pace to the garrison, away from the chaos. [Y/N]’s cheeks rise in temperature when she realises that tommys warm hand had engulfed her own. This is the kind of blushing that shows her soul, a compliment to the eyes and having a delicate sweetness within. It shows a connection, it shows that the smile and shyness comes from deep emotions. Her blush is beautiful and something real.
The garrison pub.
The pub was quiet, the occasionally laugh or the occasional cough fills the deadly silence since the moment Tommy stormed out of the pub to find [Y/N].
Tommy guides [Y/N] towards the small corner room, his hand hovering on the small of her back, however the heat still penetrates through her dress and onto her skin.
[Y/N] smiles as she walks into the room, taking her coat off slowly “ thank you Tommy” she graciously sits on one of the seats, placing her purse onto the table.
Tommy watches her as he sits at his usual seat, once again taking a cigarette from his metal holder “ would you like a drink?” He asks gruffly.
“ no thank you, I don’t drink” [Y/N] admits.
Thomas raises an eyebrow “ don’t drink ey, what maid of mine doesn’t drink” he teases.
“ the maid that looks after your infant son” she jokes back.
Thomas lights the cigarette “ my son likes you miss [L/N]” he admits, raising an eyebrow.
[Y/N] smiles, looking down at her dress skirt for a few seconds before looking up towards Tommy. She had the kind of eyes that reach out to Tommy, much like a baby reaching out with open arms, clearly signaling what she wants.
“ do you have a husband miss [L/N]” Tommy takes a long inhale of the hazardous smoke for what seems like the hundredth time that day.
“ please, call me [Y/N], and no I don’t have a husband nor a partner” she admits, her bottom lip sucking in between her teeth every so slowly. Tommy immediately looking down at the movement. Her lips were as good as her eyes in painting a picture of her emotion.
“ come here” Tommy whispers, placing the cigarette into the ash tray, just in time for [ Y/N] to arrive infront of Tommy.
The older man, places his hands onto her hips gently,his thumbs rubbing her in a rhythm, the smoke from the cigarette slowly evaporating between the two.
[Y/N] places her hands onto tommys shoulders “ this is inappropriate Tommy” she whispers, her voice as delicate as silk.
“ everything in my life is inappropriate” tommy points out, gently pulling [Y/N} into his lap, their eyes making close contact for the first time.
They both saw fire within each others eyes, she moved so close Tommy could feel her lips gliding over his own “ one time” she whispers “ one time is alright” she tries to reassure herself.
As soon as those four words left her mouth, Tommy connects their lips, in this kiss there was a sweetness of passion, a million loving thoughts condensed into a moment. [Y/N]’s heart skips a beat, as their lips glide together, making their own secret music. This kiss dissolves and releases any doubt within [Y/N]’s mind.
Tommys mouth parts ever so slightly, his tongue teasing then parting her own lips, wanting to savour her sweetness. A soft moan escapes her as she tastes Tommy in return.
Feeling as though she was burning in overwhelming passion, [Y/N] ripped her mouth away. Both gasping for air. Tommy presses his forehead against hers as [Y/N] runs her fingers through the hair at the back of his neck.
After a few minutes, Tommy lifts his head, placing his hand on her cheek. A slient communication passes through them. They both knew love was their sun, night and day.
They knew they were each others saviours.
A/N: hey again!
So sorry this took so long, my life has been extremely hectic but I’ve finished it and I hope you like it.
Please leave, a like, comment, reblog. All is appreciated so much! ❤️
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AITA for performing a wellness check on a student?
I (~30M) am a science teacher at a high school. It's great getting to introduce these students to some fascinating concepts in science and expand their horizons, but there is one student, S, who has taken to it in a bit of an odd fashion. She (16F) can be a little obtuse in class, sometimes trying to contradict what I or her other teachers say. She has these moments that make me feel like she's leagues ahead of the rest of her class, and maybe even me, but she simply hasn't been turning in her homework, which has me concerned.
The other day, one of my colleagues, B (~30F) approached me and asked about S. Apparently I'm not the only one who's noticed that S can be a bit odd sometimes. B has been worried, and asked S if everything was alright at home and if she could potentially visit and make sure. But she said S told her that her grandfather doesn't like strangers so it wouldn't work. But her grandfather is apparently a doctor, who I'd think would have to interact with strangers regularly??? I'm not sure what to make of that. B tried to swing by S's home anyways, but there was no house at that address? There was enough there that B and I were seriously concerned.
Which brings me to the part where we may be assholes. See, B had an idea to… well, follow S home. By the time school got out, it was dark and we didn't want her walking home alone, so we offered to accompany her, but she refused. B and I drove ahead to her address to see if this was in fact where she lived. There may have been better approaches if we'd taken the time to think about it, but we were really concerned for her in the moment and thought there might be something bad or fishy going on and neither of us want S to come to harm.
Eventually we saw her enter this abandoned lot and we went in after her, but she was nowhere to be seen! There was a cranky old man who we thought might have kidnapped her. He tried to goad us into calling the police. I almost did, too, before we heard S cry out. B and I followed her voice and ended up inside her home. Apparently, that cranky old man was her grandfather and he was pretty pissed that we had just barged in on him. I understand where he was coming from, and I've honestly been second-guessing whether we did the right thing. As I'm posting this, he's taken us back in time to the Stone Age in his time machine (which I thought was just a blue police box at first), which feels like a bit of an overreaction, but I'm not sure.
Am I (or are we) The Asshole(s) for trying to look after one of our students who was behaving strangely?
What are these acronyms?
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radioisntdead · 6 months
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I need to see it immediately.
Where is Susan, our grandmother, and we are her grandson/granddaughter
Give this woman love!!! 💗💗
What sweet nonsense is where the reader spends time with his grandmother
Good evening my dear! I am SO GLAD Y'ALL WANT SUSAN CONTENT LIKE I DO, I ADORE Susan, I think this counts as a drabble? Anyways I added a sprinkle of angst, definitely differs from my Susan & child/nibling reader headcanons but we're not gonna talk about that, anyways I hope you enjoy!
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Grandma Susan
Warnings!
Cannibalism, and Susan
Down in Cannibal town lived a pair of a cranky old lady and her grandchild,
Her old lady babysitting may or may not have been picked up off the streets grandchild,
You see your grandmama Susan was a MENACE TO SOCIETY, to be fair she earned it, she went through life in the 1800's but that's not an excuse for her smacking people she didn't like with her cane, or cursing them out,
the majority of the cannibal town residents were excused, as they were a tight knit community and Susan was, somehow, respected
only a few unlucky cannibalistic souls were smacked harshly with the cane.
You were dubbed the Susan handler at some point by Rosie so whenever Susan was Susan-ing you were called to calm down your dearest grandmama, it did come with the risk of getting gently smacked with the cane but you didn't particularly mind it, the most you said to do was calm her down and offer to get her some tea and pray that she would quit cursing at random overlords and the princess of hell.
But caring for your elderly grandmama wasn't all chaos and fearing for her life, you did have bonding moments, such as now, your grandmother much like many old people liked knitting, mainly because she could stab someone with the needles if needed, you on the other hand preferred crochet. [Spreading my crochet propaganda]
It was days like this you adored, acidic rain pouring outside, the radio playing some type of classical music, you sat cozily in the couch listening to your meemaw Susan ramble on about kids these days and how back in her day they were more respectful or whatever, or maybe drop lore about how she was involved in supporting woman's rights movements from the shadows, maybe how when she was alive she did this or that while she knitted a throw pillow,
You'd get her nagging at you about how you should hurry up and get hitched, although she didn't approve of anyone for her dear grandchild, secretly afraid of the day you would finally grow up and move away from her, leaving her alone, sure she had the cannibals but they weren't her beloved grandchild,
She'd never tell you that though, but you knew, after all you were closest to her, and frankly you weren't planning on leaving her anytime soon, even if you did you wouldn't go far.
Or the days where you'd cook together bonding over her teaching you how to make cannibal meat loaf, or you grilling a sinner thigh during the summertime outside, with Susan under an umbrella going on about something.
Specifically winter holidays of gifting your Nana Susan something you made like a blanket or something you saved up for like a parasol,
She'd make a comment about it but would use it all the time, after all actions speak louder the words,
She'd give you something expensive that you mentioned in passing about liking, waving off your excitement by saying she got it last minute like it hadn't been hidden in her woredrob for the past two months.
Birthdays with her were bittersweet, they were a sign that you had survived another year in this hell, that you both were growing older and older, how long it had it been since you were alive? You'd bake her favorite cake, pick up pinkie fingers, and get her something nice,
She'd order a cake for you, cursing at the poor employee to make it perfect for her grandchild, she'd buy you a set of pearls or some type of jewelry.
You'd sit down Infront of her rocking chair and place a brush in her hands asking her to brush your hair, no matter the length {unless your bald then I guess she's brushing your scalp? With a soft brush}
You curled into her arms, it was after the extermination, Many Cannibals were lost, friends you had known for ages gone just like that, she couldn't say anything, no snappy comment, no words of comfort, she could only watch as you sobbed into her, the only thing she could do was pat your back until you were smoothed to sleep.
You woke up the next day with warm soup on the stove and a blanket on you with Susan snoozing away on her old wooden rocking chair.
Actions speak far louder then words.
Your grandmother was cranky, grumpy, had zero fear towards death, she cursed like a sailor and she had a soft spot for you,
And you wouldn't have it any other way.
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SUSAN SUPREMACY, also I switched around calling her Nana and Meemaw Susan because she wouldn't have just the classic grandma Susan,
Anyways I got one more Susan request and part two of Eldritch horror reader coming up so tune on in for that! Have a wonderful evening everyone!
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kopivie · 11 months
Text
trick-or-treat.
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# — pairing: spidey!kazuha x gn!reader
# — characters: gender neutral reader, spider-man!kazuha
# — warnings: a little suggestive.
# — tags: fluff, kisses (bc who am i if not a madman for kisses), mild hurt/comfort, BANTER YIPPEE!!, this is zuzu's way of making up for the fact that he all but forgot kazuha's birthday, apology fic
# — notes: (PLEASE READ!!) this is... not at all what i intended to do. it's 1:30 am and i just came down from a much needed high. as my head cleared, i noticed that this fic was like, riddled with flaws, but i feel too good about this to second guess it and feel bad. anyways, this is heavily inspired by this fic that 🎻 anon sent in my asks, as well as a follow-up to this fic i wrote on @awlumii last year on kazuha's birthday. i hope you enjoy and please do let me know what you think! i could really use some feedback.
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✦ — 🎃 — ✦
There's a knock on your door. You stare at the entry to your apartment and think: "How mean would it be if I ignored them right now?"
In your defense, you've been giving out candy all day. All. Day. You figured that there would at least have been a lull in the early afternoon since children had school to attend, but no — you've been giving out candy to all ages from as early as 10:30 this morning. It's a good thing you stocked up on candy late last month, otherwise you would've had to ruin the days of some very enthusiastic trick-or-treaters. So after setting aside a bucket full of your favorites and giving out the leftovers until about 10 at night, you finally thought yourself ready to curl up on your bed with your softest blanket. You were halfway to dreamland when some monster started pounding on your door.
(So maybe you're exaggerating a little. But who could blame you? You're tired and you want to sleep.)
And so, here you sit, your legs half-tangled in your weighted fleece blanket as you glare at your door and hope that your unwanted visitor is telepathic and gets the message that you want them to leave. Scram! you think. You raise your voice in your head. Get out of here. Shoo! Begone!
…They knock again. (Kind of a dick move if they can read minds.)
The groan you let out is obnoxiously loud and is most definitely heard by whoever is on the other side of the door. You hoist yourself to your feet and trudge to the door, but you don't open it quite yet. Judging by the fact that this person has yet to say anything, you figure that they're old enough to know when their presence is not welcome and left.
Wrong. You're too optimistic. They knock again.
You sigh and once again, hope that the sound carries through the door. "Who is it?" You try to make yourself sound as unfriendly as possible. Considering how cranky you are, you don't have to try very hard.
"Trick-or-treat..?" The voice on the other side is muffled by the door, but also by something else. Fabric, probably. All you know is that their voice is deep enough to be an adult's.
You click your tongue. "Trick." You almost snicker. It's a little refreshing not doling out treats for once. "Go home."
"Can I at least give you a treat?" The person asks.
You blink. They didn't leave? "Pretty sure that's not how it works," you reply. "I give you treats and you… I dunno, TP my house or something."
"Yeah, well," the person at the door chuckles, "I'm pretty sure you're not supposed to say 'trick', either. Since you're breaking the rules, it's only fair that it's my turn, right?"
Well… Shit. They have a point.
Impressed by the stranger's reasoning, you hum. "Fine. Let me find my costume." You turn to gather your costume and notice that you can't find the full thing. You were so eager to get to bed that you didn't hesitate to drop the thing in the wash. Not wanting to make the stranger wait too long, you improvise. You blindly grab the mask and the blue throw blanket you have folded up on your couch and tie it around your shoulder like a cape. It's a shitty excuse for a costume, but you reason that your exhaustion is a good excuse. You swing open the door and cross your arms over your chest. "Alright, what do you got for-- Oh."
Standing on the other side of your door is none other than Spider-Man himself. The two of you stand in silence as you take in each other's appearances. Then, after what feels like forever, he speaks. "So… a cape, huh?"
You don't hesitate — you grab your door and swing the thing shut as fast as you can, but Spider-Man is faster, catching the door in his gloved hand. You turn your back to him. The mask is obscuring his face, but you already know what expression he has underneath. "Don't say a word." You warn him.
Spider-Man pays you no mind. You can feel him lifting your 'cape' as he inspects it. "Hmm… capes are kinda aerodynamic, but considering how dirty my enemies fight, I don't think that's a very good design choice." You can hear the shit-eating grin in his voice. "I'll give it a five out of ten."
"I said shut it!" You snatch your blanket out of his hands and march further into your apartment with Spider-Man's laughter following at your back. He walks inside and the door shuts behind the two of you. "Get the fuck out, webhead," you seethe. Your voice trembles with shame. "I didn't invite you in."
Spider-Man just walks around you to look you in the eye. "Come now, lovebug," he tilts your chin up with a finger, "you look cute wearing my mask."
You grumble and push his hand away as you struggle for words. You want to say something like, "this isn't what it looks like!" to try and save face, but there's no point in trying. This is exactly what it looks like.
Because the mask you'd been wearing for Halloween -- and the mask you haphazardly thrown on moments ago -- was none other than Spider-Man's mask.
To be fair, these things were a dime a dozen. The people of this city adore the vigilante. It was only natural that kids and adults alike would want to pretend to be him for a day, even if they had no powers like him. You're not exactly one of those people — you've seen firsthand just how brutal Spider-Man's job can be. You wouldn't trade your life for his even if you were offered money. But as you stared at the costume while shopping, you couldn't help yourself. There were obviously cooler, much more interesting costumes to choose from but this one just… called to you.
Hindsight is 20/20, after all. You should've ignored that calling.
Spider-Man takes your chin in his fingers and shakes your head side to side. "I never knew you liked me so much, lovebug. I'm touched."
You scoff. "Don't be."
"Y'know, if you wanted to wear my mask so badly, you could've just asked." Spider-Man leans in and presses a clothed kiss to your cheek. You consider yourself lucky; he can't possibly feel the burn of your cheeks through all that fabric.
You stammer. "Ha-ha. Very funny."
"What? I'm sure I have a back up somewhere." He eyes you for a moment. "You'd look good in it."
Against your will, you wonder if he's saying that he wants you to wear his clothes. Would he ever actually loan you clothes that he's worn? The thought makes your face burn hotter. "Why are you here?" You ask. Anything to change the topic.
Spider-Man chuckles, but plays along. "I haven't swung by in a few days," he says, "so I figured I'd try and surprise you as a trick-or-treater." He shrugs. "I wanted to do some reverse psychology thing where I could trick you into thinking I was just some guy in a costume so you would give me candy."
You process his words for a second. "Okay, first of all, you already are a guy in a costume."
He visibly deflates and places a hand over his chest. "Ouch, lovebug. What if you hurt my feelings?"
"Second of all," you continue, "do you have any idea how many Spider-Men I've seen today?"
"...Is that a serious question?"
"Don't be a smart ass."
"I'm gonna go out on a limb and guess twelve."
You pause. You actually aren't even sure if that's the right number or not. You lost count after three hours of giving out candy to cute kids.
"Am I right?" He asks.
"Who knows?"
Spider-Man huffs. "If there's that many of us around, then what am I even here for?" You giggle at his petulant behavior, and he makes another breathy sound, reminiscent of a stifled laugh. "Did you treat them the same way you treat me?"
"What?" His question takes you off-guard for a moment. You chortle. "Oh, definitely."
"You gave them band-aids and kicked them out, too?"
"Mhm." You cross your arms. "Just slapped a few on some pretend wounds and told them to get the fuck off my property."
The two of you laugh together for a moment. Once the laughter dies down, Spider-Man tugs at your cheek for a brief second. You let him get away with it for now. "You're so cute." He sighs and you can hear something somber enter his tone. "I was worried about you. It's been a week since I've seen you."
It has been a week, hasn't it? You may have been swamped with work at the hospital, but there was never a night that you didn't find yourself waiting on your balcony like an idiot in this chilly weather. You had faith that he was okay — the Daily Bugle printed something new about the "masked menace" every day this past week — but that didn't stop you from longing for his presence. Stories can't compare to the real thing, after all. You're far more taken with the masked vigilante than you'd care to admit to yourself.
You hum. "About time someone else did the worrying for once," you mumble jokingly. "It gets tiring worrying all by myself."
Spider-Man stays quiet. "I've been okay. A little worse for the wear for the past two days, but okay otherwise."
You reach for him instinctively. "Lingering pain isn't like you," you say, already in doctor-mode, "did something happen?"
"No, not like that. I've just been… sad. I guess." His confession is soft as he takes your outstretched hands in his own. He's been more vulnerable around you lately and you're not sure if that's good or bad. "It's been a rough couple of days, that's all."
You rack your brain. What could possibly be paining him that you don't know of? He's already told you that he tells you everything (within reason), so maybe it's something that you already know of? You furrow your brows as you dive deeper into your memory. Deeper, deeper… until you happen across a memory from just about a year ago.
The kiss you shared on your balcony close to midnight.
"Oh my God." You voice your incredulity aloud. "Oh my God! I missed your birthday!"
Spider-Man straightens his posture as he inhales sharply.
How could you have forgotten? He confessed to you on his birthday last year that you were the only person he had left in his life since he hated his birthday so much. October 29th was such a painful day for him — to think that you didn't stop for a second to wonder if he was okay that day. It's not like you would've been able to contact him of course, but what if he swung by after you'd fallen asleep? You should've at least left him a note or something.
"Don't beat yourself up over it, lovebug." The confidence is starting to bleed out of him, you notice. Spider-Man walks over to your couch and sits on the floor in front of it. "I'll be okay. It's not like I was going to celebrate or anything."
You move to the couch and adjust yourself so that the vigilante is between your legs. You two often assume this position when you're finished patching him up and too tired to goof around until he leaves. You would place your hands on his head and press your fingers into the fabric of his mask. Spider-Man told you once that the action was soothing, but you have yet to admit to him that it's your way of trying to conjure up an image of what his hair must look like underneath.
Like always, he gets himself into position, draping his arms across your legs. This time, however, he's looking up at you. You're not sure what expression he might be wearing.
"I wasn't saying that we should've celebrated," you say softly. "I'm just upset that you had to be alone. Are you sure you're okay?" You ask as you massage your fingers across the crown of his head.
He hums. "I am now. I promise."
"If you're ever feeling down, you know you can come and see me." Your words surprise the both of you, but you don't regret them at all. He always seems to be around when you need his company the most, so why shouldn't you do the same for him? Who else would? your mind unhelpfully supplies. "I may not be the best company in the world, but at least you won't be alone, right?"
Spider-Man moves so that he's on his knees facing you. He's so close to your face like this; you inch backwards to preserve your sanity. "You're the only company I need." He says it with so much conviction that you shiver. "But does this mean I'm getting special treatment?"
"What--? You mean from the other Spider-Men?" When he nods, you snort. "Yeah, I guess you do get V.I.P privileges. You get extra treats unlike everyone else."
"Extra?" He tilts his head. "But you haven't given me any candy at all."
You raise a brow. "All that's left is the candy I'm hoarding for myself. And before you ask, no, I'm not sharing any. Why don't you try actually trick-or-treating? People would probably give the city hero the best of the best."
He sinks a little lower, seeming defeated. "...Would you believe me if I said I tried that already?"
"Did it work?"
He's silent.
"...It didn't work, did it?"
"...No. They thought I was just some superfan."
Peals of laughter burst out of you at his admission. "So this is how they repay you, huh?" You say between giggles. "No faith and no candy? That's rough, buddy." You get the distinct impression that he's glaring at you, but that only makes you laugh harder.
Fed up with your insistence on laughing at his misfortune, Spider-Man taps your leg. "Since I get special treatment from you, can I ask for a few wishes?"
You wipe a stray tear from your eye. "I'm dressed as a superhero, not a magic genie."
"Please?"
"Fine, fine." You finally catch your breath. "You get two wishes.
"Not three?"
"I'm not a genie. Don't push it."
Spider-Man puts his hands up in defense. "Alright, two it is. The first is… let me stay with you for the rest of the night."
You shrug. Wouldn't be the first time. He's usually gone by the time you wake up, anyhow. "Granted. Next one's your last — make it count, bug boy."
Spider-Man doesn't react to your nickname. Instead, he just stares at you. A familiar sensation tickles up your spine. He's watching you; you know that stare all too well. "I think you know what I'm going to ask for next." His voice is deeper, smoother than it was mere moments ago.
You nod and he eases himself closer to you. You feel your heart pick up an unsteady rhythm and rather than kiss him normally, you lean in close and press your masked lips to his. He makes a surprised noise before he laughs and melts into the "kiss" all the same. When you pull away, he's still laughing. A very welcome change from the bitter smile you're sure he was wearing when talking about his birthday. "Consider that a freebie," you mutter.
"You're too kind," he chuckles.
Soon, your fingers come to the base of his mask to raise it just above his lips when he suddenly stops you. He reaches for your face and you feel something tug at the base of your neck. Somehow, you completely forgot you were wearing that stupid mask. "It's kinda funny," he half-laughs, "having to unmask you for once."
"You... You can't tell anyone about my identity, okay?" You tease.
Spider-Man rolls your mask up just enough to expose your lips and you do the same to him. Neither of you are sure who leaned in first, but you meet in the middle in a kiss that has fireworks bursting behind your lids. The two of you are greedy, pouring a week's worth of longing into the kiss. The mutual yearning is palpable, so much so that you can hear his breath hitch when you sigh. He rises to the couch slowly and without breaking the kiss, doing his best not to part from you for even a second.
You missed him. Oh, how you missed him — you missed how he would wrap a strong arm around your waist and pull you closer like it was nothing; how he would whisper his adoration for you between breaths; how he would chase after your lips whenever you would tease him with barely-there kisses. You missed the exhilaration, the thrill of knowing that you were the only one Spider-Man would ever treat this way. That you were his and he was yours.
He moves from your lips to your jaw, trailing kisses up to your ear and down to your neck. His pace is unhurried, though he seems eager to pull a reaction out of you. You give him what he wants whether you intend to or not. You press yourself closer to him in a silent request for more and he indulges you; his kisses become little nips, and the nips turn to bites as he starts to leave marks on your neck. He eases you back so that you're laying on your couch and he's hovering over you. The two of you stare at each other for a moment.
"Can I use my next wish?" His voice is rough. When you nod, he leans in once more. His uncovered lips brush against your ear as he whispers. "Let me give you a treat."
Something foreign yet familiar makes you shudder as you nod.
Spider-Man attacks your neck once again. Clearly he was holding himself back earlier, because every mark he leaves stings. He makes them dark and obvious, completely disregarding any warnings you may have given him on other days. You normally would tell him to ease up, to hide the marks that he so desperately wanted to leave on you. But now you let him do as he pleases. You gave him an inch and as expected, he took the mile. He soothes each one with a kiss and muffles your whimpers with his lips.
It takes a while before he's satisfied with his handiwork. Kazuha raises himself up with a shaky breath. Your wrists are in his hands and pinned against the couch. Looking down at you now, all flushed absolutely covered in his marks, he feels something uncontrollable stir within him. He has half a mind to tell you to close your eyes so he can take his mask off, but he refrains.
That's all he ever does when it comes to you. You, the greatest test of his endurance that he will ever encounter in his lifetime. No supervillain with any amount of underground connections or otherworldly technology will ever test his patience and restraint quite like you. For years, Kazuha has weighed the pros and cons of telling you who he is. He always wonders if you would still allow this, if you would still treat him like a lover if you knew who he was — if you knew that he's been lying to you. Though your reaction may not be guaranteed, it's a risk he's more than willing to take.
But he doesn't. Not tonight. Maybe another day when the time is right.
For now, Kazuha releases your wrists and sits himself up. He fixes his mask while you take yours off. You sit up and he watches as you ghost your fingers over each of your fresh hickies. You wince a little when you brush the one on the left side of your collarbone, above your heart. The silence that hangs in the air is evident, but not uncomfortable.
Then, you mutter. "I was supposed to give you a treat."
Kazuha reaches out and touches a hickey left on your pulse point. A sensitive spot for you – you shudder in response. He admires the lingering haze in your eyss. "You did. Thank you, lovebug."
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✧ my goodness. @perpetualcynicism look at what you've done. you've reawakened a monster in me.
✧ edit: btw, the dividers belong to @cafekitsune!! thanks so much for making such beautiful dividers!
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brandwhorestarscream · 4 months
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Anyway I'll be venting about earthspark so uh don't look at this thread
What the FUCK was that first episode. Maybe I'm getting cranky in my old age but this is abysmal. They started off SO STRONG with such likable human characters and now they're god awful. Also them labeling the newborn terran as immediately bad and evil and broken is very yuck
Breakdown adopting a baby was very nice tho, but i honestly think that's the only redeeming quality. So far I am NOT having a good time
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so basically. I am a clown. [READ THE WHOLE THING OR ILL CRY]
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status: ONLINE
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Ppl put this aesthetic thing here so imma do it, pretend to be amazed:
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my full legal name [not reaaaaally]: Knox Finn Anaise
im currently trying to survive for the: 16th year in a row [I WAS BORN ON A LEAP YEAR LEGALLY IM 3 YEARS OLD] My gender: i was going to make a funny joke but it’s inappropriate so I’ll be boring and just say im a dude [if y’all can convince me to change it to the joke….]
MY HEIGHT: 8’2 (totally definitely not 5’11)
Sexuality: everyone is hot. Oh no!
birthday: February 29 [WOO HOO. LEAP YEAR. FUCK THIS. IM LEGALLY 3 YEARS OLD]
status: single and ready to jingle [like a fool, miserably on the ground: see below image]
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godly parent: im not a demigod im just a human that the muses [my badass adoptive mothers] decided to take pity on so i GUESS im a demigod?????????
powers:
-i can dance very well thanks to momma Terpsichore
-i can write songs and poems and hymns thanks to momma Calliope and momma Polyhymnia
-I can write spicy fan fiction thanks to momma Erato (do not ask me to i will die)
-i can play EVERY INSTRUMENT IN THE WORLD thanks to momma Euterpe
-i can be a dramatic fucker because of momma Thalia [comedy=ADHD] and momma Melpomene [tragedy=depression]
-i can randomly point to stars and know their names coz of momma Urania [do not call her ur anus. She gets cranky.]
BASICALLY I CAN SING, DANCE, PLAY MUSIC, CRY, LAUGH, READ UR ZODIAC SIGN, WRITE FANFICTION. I AM A CLOWN 🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡
birthplace: ohio, USA [a lie]
Lore: I’m just a mortal dude who immigrated and was until recently living out of a homeless shelter.
No i am not an ambassador of skibidi toilet, im just failing at life
anyways heres what I look like externally
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SO DEMURE. SO MINDFUL.
THIS IS HOW I AM INTERNALLY
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MY CLOWN PATROL [LITERALLY JST MY TAGLIST ASK TO BE ADDED OR REMOVED:
@unhinged-as-hell [first client, CURRENT SPONSOR TO THE CHICKEN NUGGIES FUND]
@of-course-im-the-winner [second client, GAVE ME MONEYYY]
@demigod-jack-hearth (Bebe)
@if-chaos-was-a-boy [SUGAR DADDY, PAPACITAAA😍😍🔥🔥🔥]
@that-girl-cupid [NOT COMPETITOR]
@chaos-pers0nified [theatre nerd?????????]
@gay-emo-child-of-pluto [MY CHILDDD WITH PAPI WRAITH 🔥🔥🔥😩😍]
@stephen-the-spider [i wish i had siblings]
@bambi-the-dummy (slay, mother, girl boss)
@braydons-world (NEWEST SPONSOR)
@daonedaonlyskh [SHES COOL AS FUCK]
MY FAMILYY:
@penelope-is-waiting [my mami. She’s so nice.] @odysseus-of-ithaca-is-lost [my new dad. He’s still gone] @professionally-mocking-you [my new god adoptive dad]
This my songs recommendations:
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CLICK ON THE IMAGES TO SEE CLEARLY.
OKAY IM LAZY TO WRITE ANYMORE, MCDONALDS PLS SPONSOR ME. PEACE.
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weirdmarioenemies · 8 months
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Name: Bopapodamus
Debut: Donkey Kong Country Returns
Nowadays lots of people have played Super Mario Bros. Wonder and met Hoppo, the funny bouncy hippo. To this I say, PAH! Back in my day we had a DIFFERENT funny bouncy hippo to platform around, and it never even got any high-quality PNG official artwork! And we liked it! We liked it because we were playing a good game. Our enjoyment was not affected by whether a Bopapodamus image had a transparent background.
That little Cranky Kong joke there made me realize, it's been a while since the release of DKCR. So I checked, and the time between then and now is LONGER than the time between Donkey Kong (arcade) and Donkey Kong Country 1! What the heck! I don't like that! The DK from Returns could have become a new Cranky in that time, and the old Cranky could have died! Died and been sent to the glue factory, where they make Gorilla Glue®!
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Anyway, Bopapodamus. Like many of the Retro Studios DKC enemies, it is pretty much just a cartoon animal, which there's nothing wrong with! But it does make a lot of them less interesting to talk about. THIS cartoon hippo, though, is found in the forest, and clings to the top of poles! That's ridiculous! A fun zoology fact is that hippos cannot do that. Hippo feet are already not at all suited for clinging to things, but Bopapodamus even has ELEPHANT feet. Even less capable of cling! At least hippos have movable toes!
The obvious question here is: why is a hippo clinging to the top of the pole? To solve this conundrum, we must think of real animals whose lifestyles involve clinging to something in the forest... like ticks! They may be relatively harmless to a (comparatively) small gorilla, but just imagine if a really BIG gorilla walked by. A gorilla the size of the moon, just strolling by. Bopapodamus just needs to grab onto its hair as it passes by, and then it can slurp blood without being noticed!
"Bopapodamus" is a silly name. Retro Studios loves to use the word "bop" in these games! It's in one Returns level name, and two Tropical Freeze level names! I must admit it is a good word for what happens when DK jumps on an enemy. They do indeed get Bopped! I am thankful to not get bopped by a gorilla, in my everyday life! It doesn't sound like something I would like.
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mammalsofaction · 19 days
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16. Lazily (because I thought it said lizardly for a moment)
From the prompt list here
Perryshmirtz kissing....lazily
Bring Me A Dream
Rating: G
Relationship: Heinz Doofenshmirtz/Perry the Platypus
Add tags: Established relationship, domesticity, mute Perry, human Perry, Vanessa (mentioned), old men being gross and in love
A/N: Works best if you imagine Perry's just finished working an intense offshore mission and just chillaxing at Heinz's place.
---
"-Could've sworn I left it by the fireplace, no don't turn the lights on, sweetie, Perry's on the couch and he's had a long day."
"Oh, sure. Hey, Perry."
Perry grunts in acknowledgement.
"Now where is-is it this one, pumpkin?"
"Th-dad, no, mom bought me this new one last week, it's got orange decals and I snapped the holster off."
"What does an MP3 player need a holster for? Doesn't it play music?"
"It's not actually-I meant the little clip in the back I use to pin it to my belt when I'm out, I snapped it off at school last Tuesday which is why I can't pin in it on me-,"
"Which explains why you lost it, ok, I think I get the picture. Have you tried your room?"
"Yes, dad, that's the first place I checked. Are you sure we can't boot Norm up to let him scan this place?"
"I told you, pumpkin, he's been on that Minecraft server behind my back and skipping on enough of his charging time that he's getting cranky, so he's on time out. Also he's way too loud, he's going to wake Perry up. Have you checked the balcony by my lab? You like pacing there."
"I wasn't up there last week!"
Perry growls in warning, eyes kept shut. The voices shush themselves apologetically.
"I wasn't up there last week." Vanessa repeats herself, much more quietly.
"Well, you can try it anyway if we don't find it in here. Check my vinyl rack, I might have put it away and forgot about it."
As Vanessa patters further away, a more familiar presence looms over Perry's prone, half asleep figure. He does not acknowledge it, hoping it will go away.
Heinz sighs, both fond and exasperated in equal measure. "Alright, get up."
Perry doesn't move.
"This is going to go by a lot quicker if you co-operate. I need to search the cushions. "
Perry only shuts his eyes tighter, and moves his hat so that it fully covers his face, keeping out even the faint orange light of the fire.
Heinz sighs again, and soon enough Perry feels his tucking his hands between Perry's back and the cushions, trying to wedge his hands in the crannies despite the sluggish obstacle above them.
It tickles a little, and Perry wiggles.
Heinz huffs. "Oh for Gott's sake, will you-,"
Quick as flash, Perry wraps his arm around Heinz's unsuspecting figure and tugs him fully down. Heinz yelps, tucking his arms in as Perry twists them around, pinning the scientist down against the back of the sofa, but before he could start yelling, Perry began to pepper raspberries all across Heinz's scrunched up face. The scientist began to laugh.
"I found it! It was on the key plate next to the-oh gross. Dad...,"
Perry releases his captive hold on his lover, and Heinz stumbles to the floor, disheveled and winded with laughter. "Phew, sorry, Pumpkin, just got distracted."
"Perry, I thought you were supposed to be sleeping."
I am. The agent answers innocently, and to drive the message home he leans his head back into the cushion of the armrest and snores theatrically. Vanessa throws a pillow at him.
"Come on, sweetie, I'll spare your mother the trouble and drive you home. Perry'll hold down the fort."
Perry's shut his eyes again, properly settling back down, though he briefly crosses his heart.
"Ugh, you guys are so gross. I'm gonna wait in the car."
Perry hears her footsteps walking away, followed by a slamming door, before he allows his previously suppressed grin overtake his face. Heinz huffs again, clearly bemused.
"She used to think you were so cool."
Perry raises his eyebrows, then signs with some measure of offense. I am cool.
Heinz cackled. "Oh, sure. She doesn't think it anymore."
Perry hums, already falling back asleep. His signs are sluggish as he points out, You think I'm cool.
Heinz makes some sort of incredibly affectionate noise. "You are cool."
The edge of Perry's smile quirks up, a smug indication of see? As he feels Heinz leaning down however, it melts into besotted curl, reciprocating the sweet press of lips like a hot cup of cocoa on a cold December afternoon.
"Get some sleep." Heinz says, right against his lips. "I'll be right back."
Perry trusts that he will be. He's fast asleep even before Heinz locks the door behind him.
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