"You lump of fuck."

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"Hi brain, you obstinate fucker. I drank the clear splashy stuff. I ate the green things. I went under that bright fucker up there. I did the thing with the moving and sweating and whatnot. Now make the happy chemical, you lump of fuck."
Peter said angrily, pacing backwards and forwards in his room, Harley watching him from the bed.

"Maybe you need the sleep?"
Harley asked, patting the space beside him on the bed and Peter glared at him.

"I just need the happy chemical, that's all. Not the sleepy chemical, the happy chemical (same)."
Peter grumbled.

"Well I know how to make the happy chemical."
Harley said and walked towards Peter, lifted him up and lied down on the bed, hugging the brunette tight.

"Is this working?"
Harley asked.

"Yes."
Peter smiled.








Lmao I'm pretty sure Spotify hates me because it keeps playing love songs

—Penguin🐧

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