(no subject)

[onlyoneof]

[THIS IS A POST FOR OCTOBER BUSINESS]

Comments

[onlyoneof]

[yessss]

[skepticalities]

[. . . eventually climbs up on him and curls up.]

[onlyoneof]

[someone's gonna find us like this and take pictures, just you wait]

[skepticalities]

[whateverrrrrr, ilu.]

[skepticalities]

[lets him sleep for a few hours, until about . . . 11 or so, not horribly late, when his stomach growls a bit. He hesitates for a few moments, then moves up a bit and nuzzles at the side of his face.]

[onlyoneof]

Mmh?

[skepticalities]

. . . sorry.

[onlyoneof]

... what?

[skepticalities]

[his stomach growls again.]

. . . I'm starving.

[onlyoneof]

[gets up]

I have shrimp somewhere.

[skepticalities]

[steps back, nodding a little bit.]

Or fish or— anything.

[onlyoneof]

[gets a bucket of shrimp he'd saved]

I need to get more tomorrow.

[skepticalities]

[climbs up and dips his head in. he is fortunately a bit bigger than the average platypus and therefore isn't actually falling in to the bucket.]

Um, probably.

[onlyoneof]

[... might be laughing. Quietly]

[skepticalities]

[pulls his head back from the bucket and turns it towards him.]

[onlyoneof]

Sorry, sorry!

[skepticalities]

[. . . amused.]

Were you laughing?

[onlyoneof]

... maybe.

[skepticalities]

I can't imagine why.

[scratches himself with one of his back legs.]

[onlyoneof]

Finish your shrimp, Lincoln.

[skepticalities]

I'm working on it . . . !

[nomnomnom.]

[onlyoneof]

Good.

[skepticalities]

[when he finishes, he pulls back from the bucket and walks over, rubbing against Peter's leg.]

. . . thanks.

[onlyoneof]

[pets him]

[skepticalities]

[mmm, leans in to that.]