#coop cooper

[snifsnoof]

emile requested this

[w3mb13r]

i fucking hate whenever i mention BASEketball and someone is always like “erm actually you mean basketball 🤓☝️” NO I FUCKING DONT GOOBER JONES I MEAN THE 1998 MASTERPIECE OF A FEATURE FILM STARRING MATT STONE AND TREY PARKER ‼️‼️‼️

[yourmilwaukeebeers]

coop + his funny silly goofy funny haha face

[andysamberggf]

who will trey be tonight? that’s the question!

[leftlaine2013]

Coop and Remer

[kissingrhi]

give thoughts on reader being cute with Coop and js wanting to hold his hands all the time 🙏🙏🙏

i am a coop girlie so this is actually the greatest day of my life!

coop gets astronomically flustered whenever he is shown any sort of attention. he isn't sure if it's a weird, complex issue, or if his mind literally goes into overdrive after being the center of attention for more than like 10 minutes

he'll always push the spotlight onto someone else as soon as possible

so whenever you two first got together, your growing affinity and affection for him made him consistently stumble and stutter - to the point where he had to excuse himself to the restroom to beat his face with cold water

the first time you ever held his hand, it was only around 2 weeks into your relationship (which is apparently very soon to him).

it was moments before a championship game, and he was gripping the edge of a bench so hard you were sure his knuckles were turning white. his gaze was sinking further and further into the ground

without thinking, you slid your hand over to lightly cave around one of his, making eye contact as you pressed a gentle squeeze

he choked on his spit, of course, and looked at you with an expression you couldn't quite decipher

"thanks." was all he could awkwardly stutter, giving you a very odd pat on the back before going out to play

you could tell that he wasn't used to any sort of romantic affection, so you were empathetic. knowing it was something you had to ease him in to, much like every other aspect of his life.

from that point forward, pinkies barely touching turned to one of your hands over his, to fingers interlocking and clamping so hard you were sure your fingers were numb

he eased more and more into your relationship over time, as one does, and with that he eased into the gentle kindness of holding hands with you. it easily became his favorite form of affection

he loves fidgeting with your own fingers instead of his own.

like if his mind is preoccupied with something while he's cuddling with you, he'll just grab your hands and swing it across his chest and start paying attention to every detail of your fingers, while muttering about what's on his mind.

he'll be like, "and then - god, this bitch - he doesn't even pay me what he owes?" while pulling at your pinky, "i mean seriously, who does he think he is?" while cracking your knuckles

whenever he's especially stressed, needy, or anxious, pressing your hands against his face is his kryptonite

his eyes soften and he scrambles to put his hands right on top of your own, melting into your touch

loves holding pinkies when you walk together because he thinks it looks funny

"it's like two tiny dicks! interlinked!"

loves comparing hand sizes and curling his fingers over yours to make fun of you, especially during half-serious half-joking arguments

"yeah, you see that? your fingers can't even beat mine. beat it, twerp."

one time when he was blackout drunk he got ass-naked and made you stick your finger in his mouth and take a polaroid photo of him while making the goofiest seductive face you've ever seen

very silly man!

[mabelstone]

Divorcé

matt stone x reader

summary: part two of Professor Stone.

word count: 1435

note: god he looks so yummy here.

the start of this isnt great but bear with me.

gonna start adding some spice to this next chapter, i just dont want to chuck it in so predictably... theres a little tease here though so i hope you enjoy xx

if you haven't read part one, here it is <3

Part Two.

Professor Stone said goodbye to the class as routine, drawing out a long, irritated sigh as his phone buzzed violently on his desk. “Fuck me,” he muttered under his breath, putting the phone to his ear, pinching the upper bridge of his nose in annoyance. He answered with a blunt, “yeah?”

You tried to eavesdrop but couldn’t hear over the rest of the students leaving the theatre. He was throwing his hands around, clearly in a very heated argument with whoever was on the other line. He leaned one arm onto his desk, propping himself up, the other still holding the phone to his ear. He made eye contact with you, holding his gaze a bit too long. “Look, I’m with a student right now,” he quickly pulled the phone away as you could faintly hear a woman on the other line yelling obscenities you couldn’t quite make out. “I’ll call you later,” he interrupted, hanging up and dropping his phone on his desk, shaking his head at you. “Women.”

“Trouble in paradise?” You chuckled, attempting to lighten the mood.

He scoffed, “please, it was hardly ever paradise.” He beckoned you over with two fingers, and you obliged, dragging your chair with you. “Sorry about that.” He mumbled, shifting his things over so you had space next to him at his desk. “My wife- ex-wife, likes to burst my eardrums at the most convenient times.”

You hummed in understanding, not sure what there was to say. You wanted to prod, but thought it was best not to. Guess this explains why he’d been such an asshole recently. You looked over at his left hand, a prominent round indent on his now naked ring finger. He ran his hand through his short hair, sighing. “Anyway, what exactly was it you were struggling w-“

“Shit!” You jumped as you accidentally knocked his cup of whiteboard markers and paper clips over with your elbow. “I’m sorry, I’ll grab those.” He just shook his head, watching you scramble to the floor to fix your damage. “In my defence, who keeps paperclips in a cup on the edge of their desk?”

He watched as you got on your hands and knees, your black probably-too-short-for-uni dress riding up ever so slightly, giving your professor the perfect view of your thighs and the bottom of your ass. You felt it hiking up, reaching a hand around to pull the thin material down. “Sorry, sir,” you blushed, moving your bum away from him and continuing to pick up the paper clips.

“This your way of trying to get a good grade?” He humoured, his eyes never once straying from you.

You blushed harder, playing it off with a sarcastic, “you’re telling me it’s been this easy all along?” He smirked, something in his eyes changing. You felt hot, flustered, knowing your newly single, probably sexually frustrated professor just saw a whole lot more of you than he bargained for.

“Um, anyway,” you diverted, climbing back into your seat, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “Pretty much none of it makes sense, especially numerical integration.”

He nodded, surprisingly not making a snide comment about your lack of intelligence for once. He began to explain, taking your book from you and drawing a graph. You tried to focus, but the way his eyes lingered on you while he spoke did something to you. You were sitting so close that your forearms would brush occasionally, his skin warm, contrasting how cold you felt in the air-conditioned theatre. Eventually, you completely zoned out, watching the way the muscles in his arm flexed as he wrote and moved your book around, the way his slender fingers flipped the pages, his hands veiny and massive in comparison to yours.

“Is this making sense?” He snapped you out of your thoughts, his hand mere inches from yours as he looked up at you.

“Uh- yeah, yeah.” You nodded in faux understanding, readjusting yourself to sit slightly closer to him, your knee brushing his thigh as you moved in toward the paper in front of you. “I’m just not too sure where this value here came from.”

It’s like a switch in your brain tripped suddenly. Maybe it was the fact you hadn’t been laid in months, or maybe just the fact that you were so close to a male, but you suddenly realised just how attractive he was. He too pulled his chair in closer and pointed at the numbers in front of you, and this time, you understood.

“Oh! So, d is what we’re multiplying by?”

“Exactly, well done!” He shot you the most genuinely smile of his you’d seen yet, feeling your stomach drop when he lightly brushed your shoulder. “Alright, let’s move on to the next topic then.”

He began explaining the next topic as he did, this time your eyes trained on his face. His strong bone structure, his bushy eyebrows and beautiful green eyes, his face now shaven since you saw him the night before. His lips looked soft and wet, his tongue darting out occasionally as he scribbled in your book.

You found yourself completely zoned out again, imagining his large, warm hand resting on your thigh, his other hand brushing your hair behind your ear. You imagined the way he would switch his demeanour once you closed the small gap between your lips, finally shutting him up about the stupid calculus problems. You imagined how his hand would find its way to the back of your head, fingers pulling your hair with just the right amount of force. You imagined him pulling your hair harder, moving your head to the side to expose your neck where he would leave hot, open mouthed kisses, his warm tongue gliding over the freshly assaulted skin. You’d purr something so pretty, making him groan and roughly grip your hips, standing you up before running his hands up the back of your dress, his lips travelling from your collarbones to your chest. Fuck, he’d breathe, your eyes screwed tightly shut, just enjoying the way he made you feel.

You wondered how his lips felt, how he tasted, if he lingered after a kiss. If he was slow or aggressive, if he used just the right amount of tongue, or if he would bite your lip with need.

You were pulled out of your thoughts as his phone buzzed on the table yet again, probably his ex calling another time. He flipped his phone up, only to flip it back over and let out a frustrated groan, resting his head in his hands.

You didn’t know what to say. Well, what could you say? Was it inappropriate to touch him? You were just fanaticising about him shoving his tongue down your throat. You opted for gently placing your hand on his arm, lightly rubbing the area. “I’m sorry you’re dealing with this,” was all you could muster up in your softest voice, offering him a sad smile when he looked up.

“It’s fine, really,” he chuckled, yet there was no humour in his tone. “Just don’t get married. Fool around while you’re young and attractive and make sure you pick the right one someday. Or you’ll end up an old calculus professor who wants to smash his phone into a billion pieces every time it rings.”

You laughed out of pity. “You could still do that, you know.”

“What? Smash my phone into a billion pieces?”

You rolled your eyes playfully, speaking without thinking. “I meant fool around.” You readjusted in your seat, him turning his full body around to face you, eyes dark. “You know you’re good looking, plus, you’re not that old… I think.”

He laughed, looking down at your thighs and shaking his head before meeting your eyeline. “You really want that good grade, don’t you?”

“I’m just being honest,” you smiled sweetly, your voice delicate as you looked down at your dress, fiddling with the hemming.

He cleared his throat, closing your book and gathering his things. “It’s getting pretty late; we should probably head off.”

You breathed out a barely audible yeah, before putting your things away. Neither of you spoke, and the tension thickening around you. Before you had the chance to say something dumb, Professor Stone chipped in.

“Would you like to swing by tomorrow?” He asked, returning your chair for you. “We’ve still got a lot to do if you wanna improve that grade.”

You chuckled, nodding in response as you walked toward the door. “Thanks.”

He simply gave you a smile and said nothing.

“Good night, sir.”

[soapstakes]

boyfriends

[90sintruder]

They share the same stick of Swagger Old Spice deodorant

[izzis-cardboardbox-of-confusiooo]

My part time is babygirlifying Bastards

[your-fav-is-divorced]

joseph r 'coop' cooper and douglas 'doug' remer from baseketball

Joe Cooper and Doug Remer from BASEketball are Divorced!

[snifsnoof]

i was hard at work guys!! look what i made :DD

(og memes under the cut !)

[w3mb13r]

BASEketball fanart (inspired by smth i doodled on a hotel napkin yesterday)

[astralbondpro]

BASEketball (1998) // Dir. David Zucker

[treyisms]

[leftlaine2013]