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ollie-oxen-free · 5 years

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word play

my brain: okay bitch i got an actual idea for you and it’s funny! me: this isnt actually funny though my brain: so?

been quite a while, fellas. im gonna try to get back into writing if at ALL possible because i have ideas and shit i want to finish but until then have a shitpost that’s not actually funny

When Stretch walks into their apartment the smell of weed hits him like a truck. And not in a good way. He scrunches his nose and hurries to shut the door. Their neighbours are bad enough without him having to worry about any of them calling the cops over the smell, no matter how legal it is. He walks into the living room, completely unsurprised to see Cash and Slim laying on the couch, both obviously stoned out of their minds.

Cash looks up as he enters and grins, giving him a mock salute. “Greetings, traveler.”

Slim glances over at him but doesn’t say anything, going back to staring at the ceiling like a dumbass.

Stretch sighs. He hates being the responsible one, but at least one of them needs to be intelligent to try to keep them all alive and able to pay rent on time. Even if he wants to be mad about the smell that is no doubt now ingrained in the cushions- which he’ll have to scrub before his brother (or, god forbid, Razz) decides to give their apartment a surprise inspection to make sure they haven’t set anything on fire yet- but he can’t. Cash pays utilities, the groceries, and his part of the rent, and Slim…

Slim actually was never on the lease to begin with. He had signed it with Cash since he worked at the library, Cash did whatever shady things he did, and they both went to the nearby college. Slim just showed up one day on the couch and threw a few bills at them with a wink. Eventually he had given up on changing the locks and just let the other crash whenever he wanted, which was basically always, at this point.

He’s actually not too sure how Slim makes money, or even how he has any money at all considering that he’s almost certain that every penny the other makes goes towards drugs. Rent still gets paid, and somehow a pretty large fraction of it is from the other. Out of all three, Stretch is pretty sure that he pays the least money towards the apartment.

Doesn’t mean he wants to clean up the crumbs and ashes that he can see dusted across the floor and the sofa, though.

“You’re both fucking idiots” is what he decides to say, throwing his satchel down on the ground and swiping the pipe from the table where it’s sitting, checking to see how much is left before he snatches the lighter from his inventory.

Cash sniffs and tilts his head back, probably trying to look haughty, but ends up looking like he’s about to sneeze. “I take offence to that.”

Slim glances up again, then, confusion blossoming over his face as he stares at Cash. “You took a fence?”

Stretch takes a drag of the pipe and holds it for a moment before he sets it back on the table, breathing it out and trying not to cough. Cash scoffs and flops a hand in his general direction. “Did you not hear what he said?”

Slim looks over at him, the pinnacle of stoner confusion. For a moment, Stretch thinks that he might start to cry. “What the hell did you say to him that made him steal a fence?”

Cash groans. “No, not ‘a fence,’ offence.”

The look of sad confusion fades, slowly replaced by anger. “That’s what I fuckin’ said!”

Stretch sighs and picks his bag back up, leaving the room as the two begin to argue and deciding that he would only interfere if blood was drawn. Even then, it would only be to call the others to get involved.

There’s a reason he has them on speed dial.

#shitpost #my writing #short shit #papcest #kinda #puppyhoneymoney #except they arent dating theyre just dumb roomates #us papyrus #sf papyrus #purple sf papyrus #i thought this was funny but i read it again and it actually isnt #wish i was still funny fellas #really really wish that

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sansy-fresh · 6 years

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Speaking in Hands

Just a bit of PuppyHoneyMoney for your day

Tags: Light Hurt/Comfort, Fluff

Sometimes Slim wondered what he’d done to get so damn lucky. He was lounged on the couch, skull pillowed against the arm rest, only in a thin sweater and shorts. Honey was tucked on top of him, facing the couch and breathing evenly as he slept. It was a show of trust that Slim was entirely unused to, Honey having fallen asleep on top of him after a sleepless night filled with anxious thoughts. Slim knew how those went; he'd had enough off days of his own.

But Honey was taleverse. Soft, scarless, utterly undeserving of the fear and panic that plagued him. So if Slim’s presence helped him sleep (and damn if that didn’t hit him somewhere in the gut he didn’t have) he’d lay here and let the guy use him as a body pillow for the rest of the day.

Honey shifted in his sleep, making a little noise of content as he burrowed deeper into Slim’s chest, seeking more warmth. Eyeing him, Slim looked to the closet, opening it up and grabbing a quilt out with magic before draping it over the two of them. Honey sighed, relaxing into the extra warmth. Slim couldn’t help but grin. Mission accomplished.

The front door swung open, Cash walking inside and slamming it shut behind him as he kicked off his shoes. Slim winced, throwing daggers with his eyes as Cash turned around, finally noticing the two of them. Blinking, he looked at the door then back to Slim who was still glaring, before his eyelight finally fell on the top of Honey’s skull that poked out from the top of the quilt. Wincing, Cash made a quick gesture for “sorry”, moving closer to the couch.

Did he sleep at all last night?

Slim shook his head, watching Honey carefully as he extracted his hand. No more than an hour or so. We stayed up watching Whose Line all night.

Cash snorted softly. Sounds about right. Assholes.

Slim grinned, winking, though the both of them went rigid as Honey grumbled under his breath, tucking further under the blanket

“If you two are going to speak in hands, can you do it a little quieter.”

Cash snickered, Slim smiling even as the two of them conceded.

“Sorry sweetheart, go back to sleep.” Slim murmured, kissing what was still sticking out of Honey’s skull. They listened as their third mumbled something, probably a declaration of affection, before the tiny squeaks of breath returned, signifying his return to sleep.

Shaking his head, Cash moved into the kitchen, likely making dinner for the three of them (taking a few frozen pizzas from the freezer and popping them in the oven, the way most of them knew how to cook). Slim watched him leave, then settled back further into the couch. There was enough time to take a little bit of a nap before dinner would be finished. He might as well make use of it.

#fresh writes #puppyhoneymoney #underswap papyrus #swapfell papyrus #purple swapfell papyrus #light hurt/comfort

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