#monstyrious | dogmeat

[awkwardcourage]

@monstyrious

[ txt deedee -> squirt ] ;; [image received, a mirror selfie of her wearing one of his tee-shirts reaching her knees that boasts a band he's been introducing her to, but nothing else] [ txt deedee -> squirt ] ;; and what if i asked you to come over and make my brain not work for a little while

[ txt squirt -> deedee ] ;; Then I would say that we have a problem because you just stopped my brain from working

[ txt squirt -> deedee ] ;; Do I bring up enough how fucking gorgeous you are?

[awkwardcourage]

"smash or pass?" but dogmeat doesn't seem to understand what 'smash' means, because when she says it, she's hitting a fist into her palm.

"... Smash as in I want to sleep with you, not... whatever you seem to think it means."

[awkwardcourage]

her hands are on her hips and she's giving him the stankiest of faces. "i don't care that you're a six-somethin' sasquatch, you can't use that against me!" dogmeat is then stomping her little four-ten foot on the floor. [idk i saw your aes tag and it gave me this idea] | @monstyrious

It takes every ounce of willpower that Hughie has not to laugh. It is so cute. She is so cute; but there is a likelihood of imminent attack if he does, so he holds it in. "I'm not using it against you, I'm just saying- people call me 'kid' and 'petit' and I'm- I'm over six feet! I just want it to be taken into consideration!"

[awkwardcourage]

@monstyrious | caring - 02. applies a bandage with slow and deliberate care. [dogmeat]

She is a wonder. She doesn't ask how he cut himself up, which is perfect because he doesn't want to talk about it. Hughie doesn't bother insisting that he'll be okay, because he knows it will do no good. She tends to him with such care, like every wrap of the bandage is meaningful, important.

"I'll be okay," he says softly. "I... I didn't mean to worry you."

[awkwardcourage]

"you're a shit liar," the blonde half chuffs, and she's reaching up to touch his face with one hand, knuckles bloody and busted still despite the scuffle having been hours ago, while the other tucks the god awfully ugly, lime green ipod nano into his hand, black corded earbuds included. "it's okay," the girl known as dogmeat hums, smiling a little as her hands fall again. "just don't blow your eardrums out to uptown girl, okay? and leave a little juice in it for me."

Hughie's pulling away again, retreating to that dimly lit place where sound is static and everything to the touch is hazy fuzz. He recognises the question, 'are you okay?' to which he gives the usual, bullshit answer of 'sure', which in turn is pointed out for being exactly what it is. Something warm, metallic, is pressed into the palm of his hand. Hughie looks down, then up again, a ridiculous double take. "A... are you... are you sure? It... it's your turn, and, oh shit, your hands I-" He closes his eyes and takes a breath. "I'm sorry, I-I should do something, right?"