#ive never played either cut me a slack

[clearlyaginger]

yeah that's the joke my buddy bc I know nothing about either piece of media so I'm just making up names. 👌👌

I don’t believe in gatekeeping at all but if you flat out admit to me that you’ve consumed little to ZERO of the canon media and have gotten all of your information based off of reading fluffy fic with woobified characters, I will not be taking ANY of your fandom opinions or meta seriously

[toxycodone]

❥ facesitting. (laios touden x reader)

rating. nsfw.

content. facesitting (reader on laios), fingering, a little ass play. reader has a vagina but no gender specific terms are used.

word count. 1.4k

an. this is not proofread *silly anime girl pose* enjoy it nonetheless. ive been asked a TON for Laios and facesitting so. this is for all y'all out there. also im trying something new...reader has no specific dialogue (for the sake of being more immersive), so let me know how that works for your experience reading!

Laios is hungry. Starving. Absolutely famished. There’s only one food that can quell his longing, and by the grace of whatever deity favors his unworthy self, the object of his desire lays a few mere inches from his mouth.

Your knees rest on either side of Laios’s head, digging divots in the mattress. Each passing second, you can feel warm breath pass over the space between your thighs, causing you to shiver. You’ve spent enough time dry humping this lovely slab of a man, he owes you a proper orgasm after wasting himself inside his briefs. You position yourself a bit more comfortably on the man, lowering yourself onto him.

Faced with the view between your inner thighs…Laios can’t help but lick his lips. The soft flesh before him is covered in a coating of curly fur. Shiny wetness between them highlights your slit, its surface causes him to reminisce of the slimes he’s encountered in the dungeon. He reaches out to scoop a bit onto his index finger and smears it between his thumb so he can admire the way it coats his fingers and stretches between them. The sight before him never fails to make Laios’s jaw slack open. It’s gorgeous. You’re gorgeous.

For once in his life, Laios knows better than to say something out loud. But you remind him of his most favorite thing in the best way possible— a monster. And you’re his beloved specimen by far. The appearance changes to your discretion. The flavor always unalike what it was once before. He’s always itching to get a taste. The hunger inside him never dissipates when it comes to you.

He leans forward and gives a tentative lick, due to a blend of nerves and excitement. The gentle sigh you heave out makes him smile.

You always have a unique taste. Laios would describe it as tangy, but with certain undertones that make it more of an umami flavor—no, experience. He wonders what you’ve eaten today. Must’ve been something out of the ordinary. Your flavor is a bit more pervasive than usual. He’ll have to get another taste. And another. Mulling it over bit by bit seems to occupy his mind.

You feel his tongue lick a stripe up you, the tip just barely parting your slit. You whine a bit, pushing yourself further into his face. Laios doesn’t mean to tease, you’re aware of that. He always has to take his time to savor you. But you’re growing impatient. You don’t want him to wait—you want him to devour. Show your slit the same lack of discretion he does with the variety of questionable dishes he adores making.

Thankfully, he seems to get the message. Laios hoists his arms over your hips, pressing his warm lips to the expanse of your inner thighs and groin as he starts to sink your weight down onto his jaw. The apex of his broad nose rests against your clit as he takes a deep inhale of your scent, and you can see him roll his eyes back when he does. He swears it drives him mad, and in an entirely biological sense it does. (He’s given you quite the information session on the pheromones your body produces and how it activates his senses on a hormonal and physical level.)

“You smell so good…” He mumbles. He’s not lying. There’s a line a drool streaming from his lips.

Warm, moist breath coats your skin as he sighs out a pleasured exhale. Now, his tongue ventures out his mouth with purpose. It slowly trails your insides as he maps out the part of your body he’s come to love so much. Instinctively, you twitch against him, your noises cutting the silence of the room—save for Laios’s deep breaths and pounding heart.

The way his tongue feels against you is always a delightful experience. It’s soft and warm…you think if you concentrate you can feel each one of his tastebuds as he attempts so sap you of as much of your taste into his mouth. Laios isn’t shy in the slightest as he licks between your labia and up to your clit, giving the bundle of nerves a slight suck and grinding the underside against the flat of his tongue before moving back down again just to repeat the motion. He eats you like a man starved, but with enough tact to showcase he’s not doing it just for you—but for himself as well. It's almost selfish, in a way. Eating you out is an extreme turn on for him.

Tasting you is like having a bite of his favorite dish. He wants more. Needs more. Thick, calloused thumbs move to open your lips apart. He has to taste everything you have to offer. The cool feeling of Laios’s sharp exhale makes you shiver with anticipation.

Ever the experienced eater, Laios applies the same tactics he used eating the Living Armor a while ago onto your clit. As much as he loves exploring and flicking his tongue over ever part of you, he knows it’s important he focuses attention on that nub especially. He’s sure to lavish it with attention in between his ventures down to gather your slick into his mouth, swallowing it with a pleased groan as you tremble before him. One of his thumbs impales your hole, followed by another, as he stretches you out ever so slowly. The sight of you so open before him makes Laios swallow audibly.

“You taste even better than you smell.” Laios’s voice is gravelly. You’d swear he’d been hypnotized. “I just—.” There’s an audible shudder in his tone as he whines. “Love you…”

His brows furrow in concentration as he pulls you flush against him. You’ve always been a bit hesitant to put your full weight on him, which makes Laios roll his eyes internally. He’d gladly let you break his neck and then some if it means you’ll grind against his face like an animal in heat while he laps up your juices. His thumbs leave you, now being replaced by his warm tongue diving in your hole. He rocks you against his face as you’re fucked thoroughly on his appendage, your clit bumping the point of his nose every now and then. It’s a phenomenal feeling. Your walls flutter and clench around him as your orgasm starts to build.

Laios lifts you for just a moment to catch his breath, but also gather some slick onto his wet thumb and spread it along your asshole. He lowers you back down again, not before rimming the surface of your ass to spread a plethora of wetness, then lets the tip of his thumb glide over the muscle and gently penetrate you from behind as well. He’s sure not to go too deep, just enough to add a little bit more your experience. If he could eat your ass and pussy at the same time, he’d more than gladly do it. The rhythm he fucks you on his face matches the pathetic way he humps the air. Despite being spent already, he can’t help but do so.

Not much time passes before you start to feel close—that all too familiar feeling of warmth spreading from the base of your spine to your groin. Your brows furrow as you catch your lip between your teeth. As if on instinct, your thighs start to slowly begin to encase Laios’s head as your breathing starts to become labored. You’re almost there. Right on the edge. Laios can tell from your body language. He hums in delight as you shudder, now grinding yourself on his face and rubbing your clit against his nose as your orgasm starts to rear its head.

One of his hands stalls you for just enough time to allow Laios to catch your clit in between his lips. He lets the flat of his tongue stroke the underside of it before beginning to suck at at—and that’s what does it. You come undone with a cry of his name onto his face, noises of pleasure and curses spilling out your mouth as you do so. Laios happily licks at you as you do so, coaxing you through your orgasm. You have to physically remove yourself from Laios’s face as the pleasure becomes too overstimulating. If you didn’t, Laios would keep going until you’re numb.

As you flop over onto the sheets, Laios quickly moves over to kiss you. You can taste yourself on his tongue—that same distinct flavor he’s obsessed with. You’re not sure why he’s infatuated with it. But you let him have it. There’s plenty weirder things he could be tasting—or honestly, has tasted. At least you can be sure you’re definitely number one in his culinary experience.

[femdomlieeh]

Notebook of a fool ✧ Xiaojun

BFF!Xiaojun ✧ Crush!Fem!Reader

WC—3.8 ✧ k

WARNING—anxiety ✧ heartbreak ✧ crying ✧ pet names

THEMES—sfw ✧ light angst ✧ future fluff (?) ✧ best friend au ✧ crush au

NOW PLAYING—OTT ✧ IVE

A/N. 누나 (nuna) = older sister

psst! Next update is a Beomgyu smut… probably my fav smut I’ve ever written

M.LISTS—wayv ✧ latest updates ✧ read on wp

All rights reserved © femdomlieeh

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Today was one of those bad fucking days. One of those days when you can't find any positivity in anything. One of those days when you don't feel like talking to the people you love the most. One of those days when you just want to give up.

The first thing you saw in the morning was a notification of a text from your boyfriend. Looking at the white speech bubble is something you usually look forward to when you see Wonwoo's name bright up your screen, knowing he always has something entertaining to tell.

But this particular morning he said something you wish were a joke.

Wonwoo Boo💞

[ive been thinking lately and _____ i think we need a break]

Mommy🤠💦

[You're not going to tell me why?]

Seen 10:17

You asked him the first thing that came to your mind. He couldn't possibly just expect you to be OK with having a break without a reason, right?

After an hour you accepted the fact that he had left you on read and that he wasn't going to reply anytime soon.

Maybe it was because he called you _____.

He never called you by your name. Only your friends called you that. He was supposed to call you weird or cheesy pet names and nothing else! 

He left you with a headache. He left you with your bad thoughts and theories. Damn you, Wonwoo.

It was very human-like of you to be in a bad mood. Only a robot would feel nothing in this situation. The day wouldn't get any worse. You were going to make sure of it! Your mood may have been bad, but you weren't going to let anyone else get affected by it. Lashing out on innocent people because you don't feel good on the inside is something you hated doing.

Today you were going to hang out with your best friend, Xiaojun, have a picnic on a park next to the Han river. Xiaojun had packed a cute pink basket (that he had specifically bought for you two to use for picnics together since they happened at least thrice a month) which was filled with kimchi kimbap, green grapes, two clementines and some churro flavored chips and you had packed a large outdoor blanket so Xiaojun wouldn't have too much to carry. For almost a week you two hadn't met up and you both missed each other and wanted to make up for the days you had spent apart so of course you went for the nice, typical not-romantic-at-all picnic hang out session.

But no.

You weren't going to meet Xiaojun and ruin his parade with the rain cloud that was following you around wherever you went since you opened your eyes this dark morning. No, you weren't going to let the first time you two meet in such a long time be ruined by the sad news you got this ugly morning.

누나 🥰

[I can't hang out today, sorry]

Prince Junnie🦄

[why not?☹️]

누나 🥰

[I'm not feeling too well]

Prince Junnie🦄

[it's ok i'll make u some delicious soup😊]

누나 🥰

[No, you don't need to, I don't want you to get sick!]

Prince Junnie🦄

[but ive missed u sm☹️]

누나 🥰

[We'll meet another day I promise to make up for this!]

And so you put the phone gently on the table to lay on the sofa and binge watch some random show. You made sure to turn your phone off first since you knew you'd cut Wonwoo some slack in case you read any persuasive text from him — he's good with words and making you feel loved. Whilst you were looking through all the lists Netflix had created for you, which were filled with movies and series you either had already seen or weren't interested in, Xiaojun was still expectantly waiting for his screen to go bright.

She must be joking, he thought.

Unlike you, Xiaojun's morning had started out brilliant. From the moment he opened his eyes, he was smiling and full of energy, excited to hang out with you after not seeing you for five whole days. He had missed you. Spending time with you was one of his favorite hobbies! Since you two had picnics regularly you two had decided that you would take turns in deciding and packing the picnic basket and this time it was Xiaojun's turn! He had been so excited all week, planning out a shopping list days before. He had specifically purchased grapes this time because he had this fantasy of putting one in your mouth (which sounded weird, but it would feel intimate to feed you fruit) and also playing around and throwing grapes up in the air and catching them in the mouth. 

Needless to say, he liked you a little more than a best friend should and that was a bit of a problem. His friends kept telling him that it was stupid to spend so much time with you and that Xiaojun should either try to ignore his emotions or he should distance himself from you until he loses feelings, because it was unfair to hurt himself by giving himself false hopes of getting somewhere with a taken girl. 

And Xiaojun knew it. For so long, he'd known that it was a bad idea to like you. You didn't like him in the same way, and you even had a boyfriend for fuck's sake — and a really pretty one at that! But no matter how many red flags there were, he still wanted to spend everyday with you. He didn't want a week to go by without being with you. He wanted to cuddle with you on a picnic blanket. He wanted to kiss you when you visited photo booths. He wanted to share hoodies with you. He wanted to stay up late and talk until you two fell asleep in each others' arms. He wanted to be the only one you called Prince. 

Wondering why you called Xiaojun 'Prince' when you already were in a relationship with Wonwoo? Well, Prince had been Xiaojun's nickname before you even met Wonwoo (yes, you'd known Xiaojun longer than you'd known Wonwoo, yet you still found yourself in a relationship with the latter — or not anymore actually). And though your (then) boyfriend never liked it, you had convinced him it was just a friendly pet name. Because that's exactly what it was.

To you.

To Xiaojun it was the closest he'd ever feel to being your boyfriend. But you started using that pet name less and ever since Wonwoo came around and ruined everything more than it already was ruined. Xiaojun even had to change his contact name on your phone to include the word 'Prince' so you wouldn't forget to call him that.

He loathed Wonwoo.

Wonwoo was always the reason why you couldn't hang out with your bestfriend for too long, why you couldn't call him Prince on certain occasions and why you couldn't look at him as a potential boyfriend. Wonwoo was an attention thief. Not really. But it felt like it. Xiaojun was jealous of everything Wonwoo had with you.

Because your boyfriend obviously was a threat, Xiaojun felt like he needed even more of your validation than before (which was already a lot). He needed your attention. If you ignored him he'd think it was your way of telling him that you had left him completely for Wonwoo. Ridiculous! He shouldn't feel like you owe attention to him.

Your friendly fucking friendship was the closest thing Xiaojun had to being together with you in the way he really wanted, so he valued it a lot. Not having you as his girlfriend was painful enough, but not having you as even his friend would break him.

Right now you weren't validating your time together, nor your friendship — or at least it felt like it to Xiaojun. He always needed your attention and unlike normally, he wasn't getting it right now. His smile dropped and so did his excitement for the day.

Was this the end?

He knew that spending one week without each other would lead to more time for you to spend with your damn boyfriend but he didn't know it would lead to the end of your friendship. 

No way he'd bail on the picnic plans.

Prince Junnie🦄

[can i pls come over? i bought fruits for u<33 i'm sure fruits is exactly what u need right now!!]

Prince Junnie🦄

[idc if i get sick or not bc i still wanna hang out w u]

Prince Junnie🦄

[pls 누나]

Sent 11:33

You had ignored him only once before and it was a horrible experience.

The way you ignored him (on accident) was so hurtful that he had to leave the gathering that he had looked forward to for so long, confusing the other guests, to go and lock himself in a bathroom so he could cry without bothering anyone. You'd gone right after him since you knew it wasn't very Xiaojun-like to leave a fun time for no reason. After you had knocked on the door and reassured him you were his best friend and not a random person coming to make fun of him, he let you in the bathroom.

The sight you were met by was his crumbling figure on the floor and overflowing tears on his cheeks. He had thought that you wanted nothing to do with him. Stupid you didn't see the obvious signs. It was because of the fact that you hadn't paid any attention to him that Xiaojun had gotten the idea that you had grown bored of him or that you wanted to leave him for Wonwoo (he hadn't told you the latter part, of course). And weeks later you did get together with Wonwoo. And that made him cry himself to sleep for days which you never knew.

How much your lack of attention and affection for Xiaojun had affected him was scary. And a fucking sign, you idiot. Nobody gets so worked up over the loss of affection of someone they view as a friend. Ever since that incident you'd made sure to always remind him of how much you value your friendship.

Except for today.

He thought he had made it clear enough to you that you never ever should ignore him unless you really meant It. Unless you really wanted to part ways. To go from the bestest friends to cold acquaintances. Some people might think it's crazy to be this attached to a best friend but you weren't just his best friend. You were his love and happiness. Without you he didn't have either.

Five minutes passed since he triple texted you and he still had no reply. Slowly he felt how his tummy was turning into knots and how his eyes started stinging.

Prince Junnie🦄

[ur making me worried]

Prince Junnie🦄

[hey!! text me so ik u didn't die from choking on strawberry milk 누나😰]

Prince Junnie🦄

[r u ignoring me?🫠]

Prince Junnie🦄

[unless u have corona, meet me by the river at 6 if u care abt me. i need to talk to u abt smth important]

Sent 12:04

If you didn't show up he knew for sure that you had left him behind forever. If you did show up then he'd confess to you. So spontaneously he couldn't keep his feelings away from you for another year because it wasn't healthy and he knew it. He knew he would have to tell you about his feelings sooner or later. And after being without you for a whole ass week and after experiencing the cruel punishment that is being ignored and even thinking you broke your dear friendship off, he knew the time had come for him to finally woman up and confess.

Whilst he was anxiously thinking through why he made such a bold move and possibly ruined any future he had with you, the girl he loved was being lazy and stuffing her face in pillows in front of a TV.

one season of Bojack Horseman later...

Tossed between blankets and an overflow of pillows, your tummy roared like a lion. You hadn't eaten anything yet. Maybe it was time to do something other than numbing your feelings with Netflix and the drinks you had at home? As you stood up you felt heavy. You had moved maximum 100 meters in the past few hours — to go to the bathroom, then kitchen and back to the living room — and it had taken a toll on your body physically.

Fuck.

You sat back down on your sofa and brought your phone to view after hours without it.

[6 new messages from Prince Junnie🦄]

Fuck. The last message was sent so long ago. You looked at your windows. It was dark outside. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. As fast as you physically could, you put on a pair of shoes and a jacket with your aching limbs.

In just a few minutes you were on your way to the closest bus station. The whole bus ride to the river was filled with thoughts putting you down. Your favorite person in the world was sensitive about this stuff and you hurt him. You were supposed to not let your bad mood affect anybody around you. But who were you kidding? Of course something had to go wrong with an idea you constructed and analyzed for four microseconds.

Before you knew it you had arrived at the destination. You were speed walking to the river. You two always went to the exact same spot by the river since it was usually vacant, by some miracle, and had a pretty view of a bridge.

You were naive enough to think that isolating yourself from your bestfriend and your phone would help solve your problems, so you were certainly naive enough to go and check if Xiaojun was still at your meeting place hours after you were supposed to meet him. What if he wasn't there? What if he was there?

The water was shimmering from the moonlight and next to it was a bench and an athletic, tall silhouette. Your eyes widened. Could it be...? Sniffles. That's the sound that came from their direction. You walked closer and could make out the lines of a figure that was all too familiar.

"Prince?"

The silhouette turned around and though it was dark you could see that it in fact was him. You quickly sat down beside him and noticed that a couple of notebooks were scattered on the ground next to a bike. You didn't know what to do, never having seen glad Xiaojun cry. After another particularly loud sniffle you turned your attention back to him. The light of the moon exposed the redness and tears on his face. For hours he'd been outside and his face was still wet with tears.

"Why are you still out at this hour?"

He choked on his tears and rested his face in his hands, "Because I'm a fool."

"No, you're not a—"

"Why are you here?" he interrupted you.

Touché.

"You told me to meet you if I care about you."

"You come here hours later as if I don't mean anything to you," he hurried out before his voice could crack.

"I'm sorry about that. But if I didn't care about you I wouldn't show up at all," you spoke with a soft tone. The last thing you wanted was to be harsh, especially since you were the reason your best friend was upset.

"Why did you do this to me, 누나?" he looked you in the eyes as if he'd find any answers inside them.

"I promise I didn't do it on purpose. I would never hurt you on purpose," you took his hands into yours, oblivious to how the simple gesture made Xiaojun a bit hopeful on the inside.

His hands were so cold it was shocking that he was shaking because of his crying and not because of the ice-like coldness. That's what happens when you're out for hours when there's no sun — or person — to keep you warm.

"I saw the messages 20 minutes ago and got here immediately. I would never purposely ignore you, Prince."

You made sure to use his nickname in almost every sentence you spoke, silently telling him that you don't want to fight. Slowly you brought his hands to your lips and kissed them lightly, five kisses on each hand for every finger. He looked at your lovely action and felt how his tears were slowing down. The kisses didn't make him warm — maybe for a second — but at least they made him feel somewhat better inside.

"I'm so, so sorry you had to be here in the cold," you apologized and kept his hands in yours as an attempt to warm them.

One part of Xiaojun wanted to continue being mad and make you feel bad for the hurt you'd caused him but the bigger part wanted you to hold him in your arms. He loved you and couldn't stay mad at you for long even if he tried.

"I-It's OK, 누나. At least you're here now," he whispered and looked at your locked hands, admiring the sight since it may never happen again — or maybe he should make sure his hands are cold more often—

You sent him a sorrowful smile and let his head rest on your shoulder, resting your own against it as an instinct, both from being comfortable and tired.

"From now on I will check if I have any texts every hour for you," you said with an exaggerated joking voice to lighten the mood.

He giggled. You weren't even being that funny but you were both tired and sad, so anything even a tiny bit funny was hilarious to both of you.

"What did you want to tell me before, Prince?" you whispered into his fluffy hair and petted it.

Should he tell you how he feels? Should he possibly ruin this? If he told you how he truly felt, would you ever kiss him hands like you did just now? Would you ever touch him this caringly ever again? Would you continue to call him Prince? Or would all of that be gone due to your loyalty to your sweet precious boyfriend Wonwoo?

For hours Xiaojun had been outside in the cold waiting for the love of his life so he could tell her the truth. But it took time before you, the love of his life, showed up. Too long.

When a person is alone outside with notebooks filled with blank pages to write feelings and stories in, it's easy to let emotions take over. He ended up writing around seven poems. Some poems were really cheesy and written in the spirit of the moment. Some didn't even rhyme. Some were a perfect description of where he was in him non-existent love life.

But they all had one thing in common.

They were melancholic and written from the point of view of a man who was hopelessly in love with his best friend.

"Nothing. I just wanted to have a picnic with you, 누나. I was just being dramatic to convince you to come despite feeling under the weather," he lied right through his teeth.

That made no sense because you two had never been on a picnic after sunset and Xiaojun would never lie to make you come see him. But you were tired and desperate to leave the cold outside, so you chuckled lightly, believing him immediately.

"Then where are the snacks?" you asked, confused since the only things around you were notebooks, a bike and water.

"I ate them."

Laughter filled the air; your genuine one and his fake one.

You put your face in his cheek, making him blush (not that you'd notice, since his cheeks were already red from before), "Well, my tummy is a little too thin right now, so let's go somewhere."

"In the middle of the night?" he questioned.

"Yes," you smiled against his cheek and he felt it, making him smile too.

"OK."

You both were still smiling when you were picking up all the notebooks to get ready for the ride. Jokes were thrown here and there. It was as if nothing had happened. You both knew it was a misunderstanding and you valued the friendship with the other too much to put energy into arguing. And you were tired too, so the argument wouldn't even be that epic even if you tried.

"What about your bike?" 

"Oh nooo! The buses are always so full now that it's too late to take the subway!" Xiaojun whined.

"You know what? Since I was a jerk you can go take a warm bus while I ride in the cold," you said impulsively.

"B-But, 누나—" he smiled, flattered. 

"B-But nothing," you interrupted him and sat down on the bike. Anyone who had spoken to you knew you were stubborn. He laughed. The little sadness he had left was gone by now. His cheeks were dry. Still red, but not from crying, now they were red from blushing.

"OK, whatever you say, 누나."

"You brought a transport card right?" you made sure since he came by bike.

"Yes I did~ See you in an hour, 누나," he winked at you and waved with a smile brighter than the moon before running to the bus that just arrived.

You waved back to him and got ready to bike — you definitely needed a head start. But before you started you couldn't help but see something white standing out in the darkness.

It was another one of Xiaojun's notebooks. You must've been too tired to notice it when you were picking them up. Thankfully the notebook was open or else you wouldn't have noticed it as it had a dark cover. You took it into your hands. To make sure it really was Xiaojun's you needed to read at least a snippet.

You prayed it was Xiaojun's because it would be worse if you read a stranger's private thoughts than your best friend's since you already knew all him secrets. The snippet was Xiaojun's. It was from one of the pages of poems that didn't rhyme, that was very cheesy but depicted how sappy he was feeling and also told him part of the story that you never knew.

I want to feel my best friend's lips on my lips

I want, more than anything, her to call me HER Prince

You drop the book on the grass. So that's what he wanted to tell you.

[lesbolieeh]

She left behind a poem

Yuna (ITZY) ✦ Fem!Reader

WC—3.8 ✦ k

THEMES—sfw ✦ light angst ✦ future fluff (?) ✦ best friend au ✦ crush au

WARNING—anxiety ✦ heartbreak ✦ crying yuna :(

NOW PLAYING—Jenny (I Wanna Ruin Our Friendship) ✦ Studio Killers

[A/N.] 언니 (eonni) = older sister

Original ver. “The Notebook” (Somi x reader)

M.LISTS—itzy ✦ latest updates ✦ read on wp

All rights reserved © lesbolieeh

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Today was one of those bad fucking days. One of those days when you can't find any positivity in anything. One of those days when you don't feel like talking to the people you love the most. One of those days when you just want to give up.

The first thing you saw in the morning was a the notification of a text from your girlfriend. Looking at the white speech bubble is something you usually look forward to when you see Somi's name bright up your screen, knowing she always has something entertaining to tell.

But this particular morning she said something you wish were a joke.

SomSom babieboo💞

[ive been thinking lately and _____ i think we need a break]

😘🤌👅🍒🍑✂️🌈☀️

[You're not going to tell me why?]

Seen 10:17

You asked her the first thing that came to your mind. She couldn't possibly just expect you to be OK with having a break without a reason, right?

After an hour you accepted the fact that she had left you on read and that she wasn't going to reply anytime soon.

Maybe it was because she called you _____.

She never called you by your name. Only your friends called you that. She was supposed to call you weird or cheesy pet names and nothing else!

She left you with a headache. She left you with your bad thoughts and theories. Damn you, Somi.

It was very human-like of you to be in a bad mood. Only a robot would feel nothing in this situation. The day wouldn't get any worse. You were going to make sure of it! Your mood may have been bad, but you weren't going to let anyone else get affected by it. Lashing out on innocent people because you don't feel good on the inside is something you hated doing.

Today you were going to hang out with your best friend, Yuna, have a picnic on a park next to the Han river. Yuna had packed a cute pink basket (that she had specifically bought for you two to use for picnics together since they happened at least thrice a month) which was filled with tuna and kimchi kimbap, green grapes, two clementines and some churro flavored chips and you had packed a large outdoor blanket so Yuna wouldn't have too much to carry. For almost a week you two hadn't met up and you both missed each other and wanted to make up for the days you had spent apart so of course you went for the nice, typical no-homo picnic hang out session.

But no.

You weren't going to meet Yuna and ruin her parade with the rain cloud that was following you around wherever you went since you opened your eyes this dark morning. No, you weren't going to let the first time you two meet in such a long time be ruined by the sad news you got this ugly morning.

언니 🥰

[I can't hang out today, sorry]

Baby Yunanana🍓

[why not?☹️]

언니 🥰

[I'm not feeling too well]

Baby Yunanana🍓

[it's ok i'll get some soup for u😊]

언니 🥰

[No, you don't need to, I don't want you to get sick!]

Baby Yunanana🍓

[but ive missed u sm☹️]

언니 🥰

[We'll meet another day I promise to make up for this!]

And so you put the phone gently on the table to lay on the sofa and binge watch some random show. You made sure to turn your phone off first since you knew you'd cut Somi some slack in case you read any persuasive text from her — she's good with words and making you feel loved. Whilst you were looking through all the lists Netflix had created for you, which were filled with movies and series you either had already seen or weren't interested in, Yuna was still expectantly waiting for her screen to go bright.

She must be joking, she thought.

Unlike you, Yuna's morning had started out brilliant. From the moment she opened her eyes, she was smiling and full of energy, excited to hang out with you after not seeing you for five whole days. She had missed you. Spending time with you was one of her favorite hobbies! Since you two had picnics regularly you two had decided that you would take turns in deciding and packing the picnic basket and this time it was Yuna's turn! She had been so excited all week, planning out a shopping list days before. She had specifically purchased grapes this time because she had this fantasy of putting one in your mouth (which sounded weird, but it would feel intimate to feed you fruit) and also playing around and throwing grapes up in the air and catching them in the mouth.

Needless to say, she liked you a little more than a best friend should and that was a bit of a problem. Her friends kept telling her that it was stupid to spend so much time with you and that Yuna should either try to ignore her emotions or she should distance herself from you until she loses feelings, because it was unfair to hurt herself by giving herself false hopes of getting somewhere with a taken girl.

And Yuna knew it. For so long, she'd known that it was a bad idea to like you. You didn't like her in the same way, and you even had a girlfriend for fuck's sake — and a really pretty one at that! But no matter how many red flags there were, she still wanted to spend everyday with you. She didn't want a week to go by without being with you. She wanted to cuddle with you on a picnic blanket. She wanted to kiss you when you visited photo booths. She wanted to share shirts with you. She wanted to stay up late and talk until you two fell asleep in each others' arms. She wanted to be the only one you called Baby.

Wondering why you called Yuna 'Baby' when you already were in a relationship with Somi? Well, Baby had been Yuna's nickname before you even met Somi (yes, you'd known Yuna longer than you'd known Somi, yet you still found yourself in a relationship with the latter — or not anymore actually). And though your (then) girlfriend never liked it, you had convinced her it was just a friendly pet name. Because that's exactly what it was.

To you.

To Yuna it was the closest she'd ever feel to being your girlfriend. But you started using that pet name less and ever since Somi came around and ruined everything more than it already was ruined. Yuna even had to change her contact name on your phone to include the word 'baby' so you wouldn't forget to call her that.

She loathed Somi.

Somi was always the reason why you couldn't hang out with your bestfriend for too long, why you couldn't call her Baby on certain occasions and why you couldn't look at her as a potential girlfriend. Somi was an attention thief. Not really. But it felt like it. Yuna was jealous of everything Somi had with you.

Because your girlfriend obviously was a threat, Yuna felt like she needed even more of your validation than before (which was already a lot). She needed your attention. If you ignored her she'd think it was your way of telling her that you had left her completely for Somi. Ridiculous! She shouldn't feel like you owe attention to her.

Your friendly fucking friendship was the closest thing Yuna had to being together with you in the way she really wanted, so she valued it a lot. Not having you as her girlfriend was painful enough, but not having you as even her friend would break her.

Right now you weren't validating your time together, nor your friendship — or at least it felt like it to Yuna. She always needed. Your attention and unlike normally, she wasn't getting it right now. Her smile dropped and so did her excitement for the day.

Was this the end?

She knew that spending one week without each other would lead to more time for you to spend with your damn girlfriend but she didn't know it would lead to the end of your friendship.

No way she'd bail on the picnic plans.

Baby Yunanana🍓

[can i pls come over? i bought fruits for u<33 i'm sure fruits is exactly what u need right now!!]

Baby Yunanana🍓

[idc if i get sick or not bc i still wanna hang out w u]

Baby Yunanana🍓

[pls 언니]

Sent 11:33

You had ignored her only once before and it was a horrible experience.

The way you ignored her (on accident) was so hurtful that she had to leave the gathering that she had looked forward to for so long, confusing the other guests, to go and lock herself in a bathroom so she could cry without bothering anyone. You'd gone right after her since you knew it wasn't very Yuna-like to leave a fun time for no reason. After you had knocked on the door and reassured her you were her best friend and not a random person coming to make fun of her, she let you in the bathroom.

The sight you were met by was her crumbling figure on the floor and overflowing tears on her cheeks. She had thought that you wanted nothing to do with her. Stupid you didn't see the obvious signs. It was because of the fact that you hadn't paid any attention to her that Yuna had gotten the idea that you had grown bored of her or that you wanted to leave her for Somi (she hadn't told you the latter part, of course). And weeks later you did get together with Somi. And that made her cry herself to sleep for days which you never knew.

How much your lack of attention and affection for Yuna had affected her was scary. And a fucking sign, you idiot. Nobody gets so worked up over the loss of affection of someone they view as a friend. Ever since that incident you'd made sure to always remind her of how much you value your friendship.

Except for today.

She thought she had made it clear enough to you that you never ever should ignore her unless you really meant It. Unless you really wanted to part ways. To go from the bestest friends to cold acquaintances. Some people might think it's crazy to be this attached to a best friend but you weren't just her best friend. You were her love and happiness. Without you she didn't have either.

Five minutes passed since she triple texted you and she still had no reply. Slowly she felt how her tummy was turning into knots and how her eyes started stinging.

Baby Yunanana🍓

[ur making me worried]

Baby Yunanana🍓

[hey!! text me so ik u didn't die from choking on strawberry milk 언니😰]

Baby Yunanana🍓

[r u ignoring me?🫠]

Baby Yunanana🍓

[unless u have corona, meet me by the river at 6 if u care abt me. i need to talk to u abt smth important]

Sent 12:04

If you didn't show up she knew for sure that you had left her behind forever. If you did show up then she'd confess to you. So spontaneous. She couldn't keep her feelings away from you for another year because it wasn't healthy and she knew it. She knew she would have to tell you about her feelings sooner or later. And after being without you for a whole ass week and after experiencing the cruel punishment that is being ignored and even thinking you broke your dear friendship off, she knew the time had come for her to finally woman up and confess.

Whilst she was anxiously thinking through why she made such a bold move and possibly ruined any future she had with you, the girl she loved was being lazy and stuffing her face in pillows in front of a TV.

one season of Young Royals later...

Tossed between blankets and an overflow of pillows, your tummy roared like a lion. You hadn't eaten anything yet. Maybe it was time to do something other than numbing your feelings with Netflix and the drinks you had at home? As you stood up you felt heavy. You had moved maximum 100 meters in the past few hours — to go to the bathroom then kitchen and back to the living room — and it had taken a toll on your body physically.

Fuck.

You sat back down on your sofa and brought your phone to view after hours without it.

[6 new messages from Baby Yunanana🍓]

Fuck. The last message was sent so long ago. You looked at your windows. It was dark outside. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. As fast as you physically could, you put on a pair of shoes and a jacket with your aching limbs.

In just a few minutes you were on your way to the closest bus station. The whole bus ride to the river was filled with thoughts putting you down. Your favorite person in the world was sensitive about this stuff and you hurt her. You were supposed to not let your bad mood affect anybody around you. But who were you kidding? Of course something had to go wrong with an idea you constructed and analyzed for four microseconds.

Before you knew it you had arrived at the destination. You were speed walking to the river. You two always went to the exact same spot by the river since it was usually vacant, by some miracle, and had a pretty view of a bridge.

You were naive enough to think that isolating yourself from your bestfriend and your phone would help solve your problems, so you were certainly naive enough to go and check if Yuna was still at your meeting place hours after you were supposed to meet her. What if she wasn't there? What if she was there?

The water was shimmering from the moonlight and next to it was a bench and a thin, tall silhouette. Your eyes widened. Could it be...? Sniffles. That's the sound that came from their direction. You walked closer and could make out the lines of a figure that was all too familiar.

"Baby?"

The silhouette turned around and though it was dark you could see that it in fact was her. You quickly sat down beside her and noticed that a couple of notebooks were scattered on the ground next to a bike. You didn't know what to do, never having seen glad Yuna cry. After another particularly loud sniffle you turned your attention back to her. The light of the moon exposed the redness and tears on her face. For hours she'd been outside and her face was still wet with tears.

"Why are you still out at this hour?"

She choked on her tears and rested her face in her hands, "Because I'm a fool."

"No, you're not a—"

"Why are you here?" she interrupted you.

Touché.

"You told me to meet you if I care about you."

"You come here hours later as if I don't mean anything to you," she hurried out before her voice could crack.

"I'm sorry about that. But if I didn't care about you I wouldn't show up at all," you spoke with a soft tone. The last thing you wanted was to be harsh, especially since you were the reason your best friend was upset.

"Why did you do this to me, 언니?" she looked you in the eyes as if she'd find any answers inside them.

"I promise I didn't do it on purpose. I would never hurt you on purpose," you took her hands into yours, oblivious to how the simple gesture made Yuna a bit hopeful on the inside.

Her hands were so cold it was shocking that she was shaking because of her crying and not because of the ice-like coldness. That's what happens when you're out for hours when there's no sun — or person — to keep you warm.

"I saw the messages 20 minutes ago and got here immediately. I would never purposely ignore you, Baby."

You made sure to use her nickname in almost every sentence you spoke, silently telling her that you don't want to fight. Slowly you brought her hands to your lips and kissed them lightly, five kisses on each hand for every finger. She looked at your lovely action and felt how her tears were slowing down. The kisses didn't make her warm — maybe for a second — but at least they made her feel somewhat better inside.

"I'm so, so sorry you had to be here in the cold," you apologized and kept her hands in yours as an attempt to warm them.

One part of Yuna wanted to continue being mad and make you feel bad for the hurt you'd caused her but the bigger part wanted you to hold her in your arms. She loved you and couldn't stay mad at you for long even if she tried.

"I-It's OK, 언니. At least you're here now," she whispered and looked at your locked hands, admiring the sight since it may never happen again — or maybe she should make sure her hands are cold more often—

You sent her a sorrowful smile and let her head rest on your shoulder, resting your own against it as an instinct, both from being comfortable and tired.

"From now on I will check if I have any texts every hour for you," you said with an exaggerated joking voice to lighten the mood.

She giggled. You weren't even being that funny but you were both tired and sad, so anything even a tiny bit funny was hilarious to both of you.

"What did you want to tell me before, Baby?" you whispered into her fluffy hair and petted it.

Should she tell you how she feels? Should she possibly ruin this? If she told you how she truly felt, would you ever kiss her hands like you did just now? Would you ever touch her this caringly ever again? Would you continue to call her Baby? Or would all of that be gone due to your loyalty to your sweet precious girlfriend Somi?

For hours Yuna had been outside in the cold waiting for the love of her life so she could tell her the truth. But it took time before you, the love of her life, showed up. Too long.

When a person is alone outside with notebooks filled with blank pages to write feelings and stories in, it's easy to let emotions take over. She ended up writing around seven poems. Some poems were really cheesy and written in the spirit of the moment. Some didn't even rhyme. Some were a perfect description of where she was in her non-existing love life.

But they all had one thing in common.

They were melancholic and written from the point of view of a woman who was hopelessly in love with her best friend.

"Nothing. I just wanted to have a picnic with you, 언니. I was just being dramatic to convince you to come despite feeling under the weather," she lied right through her teeth.

That made no sense because you two had never been on a picnic after sunset and Yuna would never lie to make you come see her. But you were tired and desperate to leave the cold outside, so you chuckled lightly, believing her immediately.

"Then where are the snacks?" you asked, confused since the only things around you were notebooks, a bike and water.

"I ate them."

Laughter filled the air; your genuine one and her fake one.

You put your face in her cheek, making her blush (not that you'd notice, since her cheeks were already red from before), "Well, my tummy is a little too thin right now, so let's go somewhere."

"In the middle of the night?" she questioned.

"Yes," you smiled against her cheek and she felt it, making her smile too.

"OK."

You both were still smiling when you were picking up all the notebooks to get ready for the ride. Jokes were thrown here and there. It was as if nothing had happened. You both knew it was a misunderstanding and you valued the friendship with the other too much to put energy into arguing. And you were tired too, so the argument wouldn't even be that epic even if you tried.

"What about your bike?"

"Oh nooo! The buses are always so full now that it's too late to take the subway!" Yuna whined.

"You know what? Since I was a jerk you can go take a warm bus while I ride in the cold," you said impulsively.

"B-But, 언니—" she smiled, flattered.

"B-But nothing," you interrupted her and sat down on the bike. Anyone who had spoken to you knew you were stubborn. She laughed. The little sadness she had left was gone by now. Her cheeks were dry. Still red, but not from crying, now they were red from blushing.

"OK, whatever you say, 언니."

"You brought a transport card right?" you made sure since she came by bike.

"Yes I do~ See you in an hour, 언니," she winked at you and waved with a smile brighter than the moon before running to the bus that just arrived.

You waved back to her and got ready to bike — you definitely needed a head start. But before you started you couldn't help but see something white standing out in the darkness.

It was another one of Yuna's notebooks. You must've been too tired to notice it when you were picking them up. Thankfully the notebook was open or else you wouldn't have noticed it as it had a dark cover. You took it into your hands. To make sure it really was Yuna's you needed to read at least a snippet.

You prayed it was Yuna's because it would be worse if you read a stranger's private thoughts than your best friend's since you already knew all her secrets. The snippet was Yuna's. It was from one of the pages of poems that didn't rhyme, that was very cheesy but depicted how sappy she was feeling and also told her part of the story that you never knew.

i want to feel my best friend's lips on my lips

ugh how much of a cliche gay can i be haha

i don't want her to call me 'baby' only

i want her to call me 'mine'

i want to call her that too

You drop the book on the grass. So that's what she wanted to tell you.

✦ ੈ ✦ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✦‧₊˚＊* ੈ ✦ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✦‧₊˚＊* ✦ ੈ ✦ ੈ ✦ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✦‧₊˚＊* ੈ ✦ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✦‧₊˚＊* ✦ ੈ ✦

❝ Jenny, darling, you're my best friend

But there's a few things that you don't know of

Why I borrow your lipstick so often

I'm using your shirt as a pillow case

(...)

I've been doing bad things that you don't know about

Stealing your stuff now and then

Nothing you'd miss, but it means the world to me ❞

—chubby cherry; 2013

[oflofticries]

( martin sensmeier , cis man , he/him ) — one day the sea will sing of KOVA WILDER, the thirty-six year old farmer from the town of cynefin. there will be verses about sarcastic quips made in a low tone, barely noticeable; dodging conversations one does not wish to have in the moment; nights spent gasping awake and mornings revealing your weary, shadowed eyes; missing those you should not be wanting or needing; hands stained and fingernails packed with the dirt of the earth, the same dirt you were raised upon  in the hums of their hymn, about a person who is trained in the magic of khemia. the land will know them as someone hard-working and steadfast, but perhaps, you’ll hear the old crones hiss that they are cynical and aloof. only the shadows of the ocean floor will bear witness to the truth. ╱ eliza, 33, she/her, cst.

i. basics FULL NAME: kova kaskae wilder. NICKNAMES: ko. AGE / D.O.B.: thirty-six / august 29th. GENDER / PRONOUNS: cis man / he & him. ORIENTATIONS: bisexual biromantic. MARITAL STATUS: separated. OCCUPATION: farmer. HOMETOWN: cynefin, clwyd-isle. RESIDENCE: the farm that has belonged to his father's side of the family for precisely five generations.

ii. physical EYE COLOR: brown. HAIR COLOR: black. HEIGHT: 6 ft even. DISTINGUISHING FEATURES: cropped hair, occasionally rocks a five o' clock shadow or a fuller beard depending on how he's feeling. strong jawline, sturdily built figure, eyes that cut at you in annoyance if you're being an asshole. you don't want to be on that side of this expression, trust me. FASHION STYLE: farmer chic. a lot of the clothing you would expect to see a working man don. white cotton shirts and simple pairs of slacks paired with boots, and the occasional pair of overalls if he's feeling particularly daring. kova has exactly one (1) nice outfit that he saves for special occasions but there haven't particularly been any as of late.

iii. psychological POSITIVE TRAITS: disciplined, resourceful, observant, decisive, appreciative. NEGATIVE TRAITS: impatient, reserved, quiet, sarcastic, hard-headed. ZODIAC: virgo. MBTI TYPE: istj. TEMPERAMENT: melancholic. EDUCATION: he studied at verum for a time before ultimately returning back to the family and his farm. SKILLS: planting, harvesting, wrangling animals - abilities you would find a farmer with. however, he's adept with his khemia, despite not receiving the full education from verum. besides that, he's good with sewing, enjoys horseback riding and fishing. he plays the violin shockingly well for a farm boy, probably thanks to his mother's attempts at bringing her socialite ways to the town. MAGIC: decomposition khemia.

iv. familial MOTHER: ahnah wilder (deceased.) FATHER: albert wilder (deceased.) SIBLINGS: none. CHILDREN: yura wilder, daughter. SIGNIFICANT OTHER: catherine wilder, wife (separated - he has no idea of her current location.)

v. summary tw: cheating, death a man who never feels as much as home as he does in the fields of the farm where he was born and raised, despite it having an array of difficult memories. he was never close with either one of his parents, more so the animals he took care of and the crops he tended to. they were older, weary, not in a place of having a child. but there he was, anyway. the wilder name became well known in the town for a number of reasons, not all of them good - particularly when his mother was caught with another man. and then another. and then a third. the blowups in the wilder family home weren't as intense as they should have been. instead, it seemed that kova was the only one truly upset about the happenings, while his father remained silent on the matter. his khemia sparked and it offered him a chance to study, get away from the pain of his dysfunctional family. of course, verum wasn't exactly what he pictured and he didn't enjoy it as much as he desperately wanted to. in the end, he went back home after only three years of study despite the potential to leave everything he knew for good. the reason? his mother falling ill, needing a caretaker while his father worked the fields, or vice versa. they shared the duties up until her death. he never did ask his father why he put up with the cheating and the lies. no, kova would learn for himself after he settled down with a lady, got hitched and brought her to the place he was so very proud of, that he fixed up himself over the years when his father became too old to do much. of course, it wouldn't happen until they had another person in the mix, a little girl with big, bright eyes and dark, shiny hair. his heart hurt for her more than his own when catherine became fed up with the life and the struggling, first dumping the truth on him of her affair and then leaving for parts unknown. like father, like son. isn't that the way it goes? vi. headcanons i. he doesn't believe he's a good father or can give his daughter really anything that she needs, mostly because he has no idea how to raise a little girl on his own. ii. he finds it hard to really get close to anyone, mostly because of the rumors that went around town and the whispers that followed thanks to his mother's actions. kova himself wasn't exactly talkative before this, taking after his father mostly, with a fairly large portion of his mother's... sass coming out in his own sarcasm. iii. he's fallen in love exactly once and it was not with his wife, though he hoped their union would bring some sort of deeper love between them instead of just filling the loneliness the both of them had without each other. they cared for each other, trusted each other. but it wasn't the once in a lifetime love that he'd overheard women talk about. funny that she'd end up leaving him, right? iv. he loves his khemia. absolutely adores it. part of him hopes that his daughter's magic will spark up, though he's scared for when it does because it means she'll leave him, though she won't be going very far at least. v. once he makes a decision, it's nearly impossible to change his mind. others have tried and failed. good luck if you wish to change that streak. vii. wanted connections family members of his wife who either hate him or know he's doing his Best - or extended connections of his own family / verum folks who studied when he did that he keeps in loose contact with / people he's known his whole life in cynefin, even if they aren't friends / folks who work on the farm when he needs the extra hands / anything!!!

[sojutrait]

warning this is a long one lmao

i tried once and failed spectacularly and never tried again 😭😭😭

ive just been letting the toddlers run wild bc i imagine two werewolves wouldnt be helicopter parents and its honestly sm less stressful 😭😭 like yeah go splash in the toilet and have fun

hmm like sims aesthetic? idk really its kinda all over the place djfkf id just say nondescript cartoon-yness lmao. and most of my inspo is from real life!

ty! like i dont want it to seem like im a saint and totally exempt from fucking up but i would hope it would be clear that id never intentionally whitewash a sim, thats quite counterintuitive of literally everything i preach

thats what its giving atp 😭😭

PREMONITIONS youre right, i shouldve forced my mom to birth me early so i could properly do my research for ts2 😩😩

honestly!! ive tried to play both ts2 and ts3 since joining simblr but i literally Can Not, plus the millions of fixes that go in to ensuring they both work properly, it shouldnt come as a surprise to people that the majority of current simmers are only familiar with ts4

dkjfkfd thats the consensus everyone is coming to but i dont remember last summer being this bad 😭😭 it fully couldve been tho that was before i ever left my simblr bubble lmao

thank you sm!! ily2 ����🥺💖💖

thank you!! like i am not an ea employee plz cut me some slack 😭😭 and im glad u like my dina🥺🥺 just gonna tweak her a bit to make her more like her previous iterations !

thank you!! and omg that is so exciting, good luck on ur legacy challenge! 💖💖

i am autistic so i rlly dont know wtf theyre talking about in regards to my tone, i just think im speaking normally lmao. and i wholeheartedly agree with what u said about black simmers, ive def seen other black simmers get the same hate and vitriol over their tone and its sick, and then everyone wonders why ppl leave and simblr “dies”, like its bc yall make it inhospitable

i love both of those things so ty sm! 🥺💖💖

thank you!! i’m doing okay, ty for checking in 🥺💖💖

DJKDFK ty! i honestly didnt think id get so attached to the dog people either 😭😭

NO SAME i forget im not like 16 anymore 😭😭 i recently came to the realization that its techinally legal for weird older men to hit on me and i havent known peace since ✋

i actually considered that! or adding that werewolf girl i made in cas a couple days ago bc im so attached to all of them sjddk the thing is id have to human-ify them bc the halabis are set in the boring real world 

TYY shes my fave townie of all time so ofc i had to do my girl justice 😌😌

thank u 🤧🤧❤❤❤

ACTUALLY when i was playing in that save i literally thought damn now i wanna play with ulrike and dina 😭😭 so maybe so 👁

this is so sweet omfg thank you sm 😭😭❤❤ im so glad ollie brings you comfort, shes one of my fave sims of all time for that same reason so its good to hear other ppl connect with her the same 🥺🥺 and omg sometimes i forget she has the klepto trait until she tries to steal shit 😭😭

[tigerdrop]

so. this is my attempt at posting a 20k-word-long g/t frenrey RP that kogo and i were doing at the start of this year. its not finished and im not sure when were gonna pick it back up, since we are currently working on co-op game theory instead of a filthy RP that takes place like 100k words down the line of co-op game theory. but ive been sitting on it long enough so here u go

i never really planned on posting this anywhere so its really self-indulgent and not as polished as our usual stuff but look. this is a ludicrous amount of erotica im dropping here. cut me a lil slack

anyway, here it is: Gordon Gets A Xen Bath

Gordon tries to keep moving, but eventually his pace slows to a stop, his legs growing heavier and heavier until he can't bring himself to lift them.

"Okay. Okay," he pants, bending over and bracing his hands on his knees. "I can't fucking do this anymore, man! I'm tapped out! We've been walking all day - or, well, I have, I don't know about you. We can't... can't all be alien god fuckers, floating around or whatever." He pauses to catch his breath. Every muscle in his body aches from the strain of hopping around Xen in the HEV suit. Sure, gravity doesn't have quite as strong a hold here as it did back on Earth, and that makes all that metal easier to lug around, but it seems like time doesn't work the same way, either. Gordon can't tell how long it's been. Feels like days.

Smells like it, too, now that he's got a moment to breathe. He's covered in dirt and slime and congealed alien blood and God know what else.  In short, he needs a fucking break. And Gordon aggressively takes one right then and there, dropping to his feet. What's the rush, anyway? "Like we're ever gonna find out way out of this fucking place," he mutters.

> Benrey watches as Gordon collapses, a pile of metal and smells. Odors. Sweat and dirt and tangled hair. His head tilts to the side but his expression remains flat as he lifts his head and gazes out into the vastness of Xen, before turning back to Gordon and furrowing his brow. They hadn't even gotten far, not really, so it doesn't really make sense that he'd just crumple like this.

> He sniffs, shuffling in a circle on his feet as Gordon bitches behind him--something about never escaping Xen, as if Benrey hadn't traveled from one end to the other to find him in the first place--and chews his lip in deep concentration, trying to think of literally anything that would maybe make the guy stop. Stop with the, uh, whining and whinging and "blah blah, we're not all alien god fuckers" or whatever.

> (Though, well, technically, Gordon was an alien god fucker anymore. Their time back with the space maggots and the gun bugs and that skinny doppelganger had seen them in a couple of situations where Gordon happily fucked an "alien god.")

> But. Wait. No. Mind wandering. Wandering to fun places, places more fun than being lost in Xen (though he's not lost; they'll find their way out eventually), but not anywhere useful. And, for once, he has to think along those boring terms. Being, you know, reliable or whatever.

> What matters is making Gordon go. The hamster wheel in his head turns and turns until the rodent is slung clear off and, with a slow blink, Benrey accepts defeat. Ideas are not his forte when he's actually trying to be helpful. He turns to his human, he tilts his head in the other direction, and he waits for his human to look up at him. Then, he speaks without even waiting for eye contact.

> "So, uh... what can best friend Benrey do to... make you. I dunno. Less dumb?"

> Nailed it. Benrey is getting good at this "empathy" thing.

Gordon drags his gaze up from the ground to Benrey, and immediately scrunches his eyebrows up. "Wow, that was almost nice of you," he says, a touch of genuine surprise in his voice. It doesn't outweigh the disdain, though. "You know what? Just don't do anything. The best thing you can do right now is to stand right there and do absolutely nothing... and let me just... catch my breath."

He hopes against hope that, for once, Benrey will do what he says. Despite all the evidence that suggests otherwise. His internal monologue turns a bit haggard. Well, it's not like there's anything he could do about it, anyway. Even if he was fit as a fiddle, if Benrey wanted to fuck off and get lost, there was no stopping him.

He can't hold Benrey's stare for long, though. It's-- it's always harder to look him right in the eye like this. Something about the size of him makes it uncomfortable, like he's staring right through Gordon. So he darts his eyes away, scanning his surroundings. The perils of an alien landscape: all the little islands and chunks of earth start to look the same after awhile. Rocks and strange, angry plants and pools of mysterious fluids. He's seen it all. There's a number of all these things and more around him, but the one thing he finds himself wishing for is something to eat. You can't trust anything out here.

"I just want a burger, man," Gordon groans. "Sick of jumping around like I'm playing some kind of platformer. You know, they never tell you how exhausting this shit is! My heart's-- my heart's racing-- like, adrenaline? Hate fucking jumping over these big-ass pits, I'm tellin' you."

Or, failing that, like, a nap. Or a bath. He vocalizes both of these things before burying his head in his hands. Maybe he could get one of those microsleeps going. If he can just calm the fuck down, anyway.

> Food? Nap? Bath?

> Benrey's mouth curls into a jagged smile. Of course Gordon would just need some of that weird, seemingly pointless human stuff. You would think after two grand adventures of dragging this sad sack around and listening to him complain every two meters, he'd have picked up on the human necessities. Things like 'burger" and "bed time" and "smelling like preferred smells, and not the natural smells that are apparently 'bad.'"

> A huge sigh heaves out of Benrey and he watches in amusement as it makes Gordon's hair puff out of his face. Small little tiny man, curled up on a chunk of rock, not able to embiggen and make things easier. It's sad and pathetic, almost as sad and pathetic as Gordon looks, but Benrey knows he's capable of being a good enough guy for the both of them. A real bro. A best friend.

> Because he knows Xen inside and out for some reason. And he's observant. He's seen things and can do the mental math necessary to figure out how to problem solve, sort of. He's spent enough time floating around Xen to figure out what those sparkly puddles do, and he's seen enough of those people back in the Wrong World eat the not-Lamarrs (or, at least the Vorti-bros did, which were close enough).

> And, well, Gordon could literally sleep anywhere. There was dirt for days, lots of rocks to align the spine. Fun nap places. Good for Gordon.

> With a burst of pride and dagger-toothed grin, Benrey propped his elbow on the island where Gordon was whining and held out his hand, palm up and flat, extended as an open invitation.

> "Oh. Uh. That it? That's, uh... that's a cool I can do. Big cool for you."

He stares, eyes narrowed in confusion. "What? What do you mean, that's a-- What are you doing?"

> "I'm doing a cool," Benrey responds. Though his voice is still fairly flat, there is a bite to it, hidden almost completely under his monotone. As if to emphasize the point, he lifts his hand and slaps it back down into the earth once more in a way he thought was light. Judging from the way the ground shook and the island rocked, perhaps not as light as he'd imagined.

> "Gonna, uh... help. Or somethin'. You gettin' on or you gonna be a babyman about it?"

Gordon yelps as the ground shakes around him, even though he's (relatively) safe on the ground. "Jesus, Benrey! Watch it!"

What the hell is he doing? His eyes dart between Benrey's hand and face as the gears struggle to turn. It's been a long fucking day, all right, and Benrey's... Benrey-isms are hard enough to understand at the best of times. This is supposed to help, somehow. So, scratch the burger. And the nap, too, probably. So, does that mean he wants to--

No. That's stupid. He's stupid for thinking it. Gordon steadfastly ignores the way his ears prickle and shakes his head, like a dog ridding itself of water.

"Please tell me you're gonna just carry me the rest of the way," Gordon sighs. It's a visible effort for him to get back to his feet. "Hey, actually, why didn't you just do that from the get-go? You're not even breaking a sweat!"

He complains, sure, but it doesn't stop him from dizzily shuffling forward and stepping on. Better late than never. He'll have plenty of time to chew Benrey out for this once he's out of this alien hellscape and back in his own goddamn bed.

> Benrey blinks.

> Oh. Yeah. He probably could have carried Gordon, huh? The thought never really occurred to him at first because, well, why would it? Was he a bad guy--a bad friend--for believing that his bestest buddy was a capable man? Color him insensitive for actually expecting things of Gordon, but he'd just watched the guy win Space Invaders in real life.

> After that, traipsing through Xen should have been a walk in the park.

> Best not to point that out, though. Gordon may take offense and, for once in his life, he isn't out to make him mad. He's trying to be good, trying to carry that camaraderie they built from Shit World Without Sony Products back to Good World With Heavenly Sword. Highlighting Gordon's stupid human failings would only work to reset the karma he'd worked so hard to build up in their social link. Or, you know, however humans fucking worked.

> Instead, he lets Gordon crawl onto his hand and then turns away, wracking his mind for the last place he saw a good puddle. After all, it made sense to start with a bath, right? Eating while gross would make Gordon complain, and sleeping while gross wouldn't be much better. Drifting past island after island, his head swivels to see if maybe there are some good candidates going forward.

> And there's... really not. Testicle stalks. Pointy rocks. Less pointy rocks. Tit-on-stilts that is aggressively spitting little Lamarrs over the edge of a rock chunk that looks like Swiss cheese. Benrey isn't sure what it's hoping to accomplish, but it's sure as fuck not accomplishing it.

> Then, he sees it, in the distance: A glittering pool of blue that sparks like electricity and glitters like cheap body mist. A strange smell, not unlike Sweet Voice, wafts from its direction. It's certainly one of the Good Smells Humans Like. Gordon will love it.

> Wordlessly, he glides toward it. Gordon's smart. He'll know what he's getting at.

Benrey's not saying anything, which is mildly concerning, but he is looking around like he knows what he's looking for. And when Benrey fucks off, Gordon in tow - held in a grip that's a little looser than he likes - Gordon lets his brain wind down for the first time in... a long while. Flying around Xen like this is nervewracking, yeah, but in a way he's more equipped to handle. Benrey's chest at his back helps. It's solid as a wall and deceptively warm, and if he keeps himself pressed flat against it, he can almost forget about these bottomless pits they're flying over.

He lets Benrey go like that for an indeterminable amount of time. (He may have dozed off a little.) But Gordon comes back to himself once Benrey's velocity changes. Gets a bit more pointed. Eventually, Gordon puzzles out that he's heading for one island in particular, one with a shimmering pool on its surface. Not exactly what the endgame was.

Wait. Gordon's brain chugs. He was looking for... some kind of water? Oh, Christ.

"Wait, were you being serious about the bath thing?" he asks as they approach. "I-- I wasn't being that serious about it! Getting out of here kind of seems like the more important thing!"

> "Huh?"

> The word falls off of Benrey's lips despite the fact he actually heard everything Gordon said. He heard him and even registered him, but he just didn't get him. After all, he's fairly certain that Gordon wants a bath considering it was one of the big things that spewed out of his mouth when he was being all needlessly fussy before, so why isn't he just saying it? Owning up to it?

> Was it because it was a detour? Slowing them down? Or was it just Gordon being whatever-the-hell-Gordon-was?

> Yeah, that had to be it. Gordon just doesn't want to get side-tracked. That's fair, he supposes. Or, at the very least, he assumes that's what a human would consider fair, considering how obsessed with "time" and "schedules" and "fast" they all were.

> "Real quick dip," Benrey promises, hoping to put Gordon's mind at ease; it was a far cry from what he typically did, so he could only hope it landed properly, that he was saying the right things and had the right inflections. "Real fast. Get'cha all nice. Wet. Uh. Soaps and hygiene. You know."

"Oh my God, man, it's gonna be a whole fuckin' production!" Gordon agonizes as Benrey brings them to that strange, glittering watering hole. "Saving the world's kinda time-sensitive, you know? And it's always such a hassle getting in and out of this thing! And-- Okay, hold on, you actually want to-- Okay. Fine. Look, I'm just saying, this is weird even for you, Benrey!"

Soaps. Hygiene. You know. Letting his best frenemy peel him out of his suit so he can scrub him clean, like normal people do. A shiver runs down the back of Gordon's neck. There's gotta be some kind of catch, but honestly, he's having a hard enough time keeping up with events as they're written. If there's some kind of malicious subtext to this whole thing, well, that's not his problem. He's got more important things to worry about, like convincing Benrey that it would be a little more prudent to just keep forging on rather than waste valuable time on a bath.

...Unfortunately, he's close enough to smell whatever it is that wafts off the surface in waves, and it makes Gordon's resolve waver. It's a clean smell, warm and vaguely fruity, with an undercurrent of salinity. Like a shower that's just been used, almost. God, he'd really like that, wouldn't he.

> The words don't really have weight to them anymore. If Benrey had a nickel for every time Gordon called him "weird" or told him he was endangering the world by taking detours, he'd have enough nickels to melt them down and make a big-ass nickel. And, judging from the way even Gordon's mouth wasn't running anymore, it didn't seem like Gordon had put any weight into his own words, either.

> Which was good. Real good. It meant Benrey was doing a nice job of not pressing every one of Gordon's buttons like a kid in an elevator, and being a proper friend. Best friend. More than friend? God, he fucking wished.

> And he'd shut up right in the nick of time, too, because the urge to tease is building up inside of Benrey like pressure in a flaming aerosol can. It's hard not to want to pick at him when Gordon is griping like this, just goading him on with his (strangely cute) bullshit. Benrey mentally pats himself on the back for a job well done as he glides to the edge of the island and leans carefully over the tiny expanse of mottled dirt and glittering water.

> "S'fine. You're fine. S'gonna be fine. Just cleanin' you up, makin' you pretty. Like a good friend. Best friend."

> The water bubbles against the back of his hand as he extends it, dangling Gordon over the surface so he can get a good look at it himself. Maybe, with the proper viewing, he'll realize that this will be a pleasant time all around. Good for him. Fun for Benrey. Bonding experience.

> "Gonna make you, uh, real shiny. Polished.  A, ah, regular... Casa... Casa del Nova."

> With that, he hooks a nail under one of the thigh pieces of the HEV suit and waits, eyes resting on Gordon's face in search of approval. Approval he selfishly hopes comes quick, before reflex takes over and he pops it off regardless.

Gordon peers over the edge of Benrey's hand to look down at the water, where it lies placid and clear and a vivid blue-green. Mysterious bubbles aside. It's... it's like one of those pools at Yellowstone, he thinks dizzily. They look so warm and inviting and then you step in and suddenly your flesh is deciding to melt right off of you. Gordon's stomach swoops unpleasantly.

Then Benrey offhandedly mentions making him pretty, as if he were just trying to sell Gordon on a new restaurant, and it swoops for an entirely different reason. An irritating reason.

"Don't just fucking say things like that," he says hotly, his voice pitching up and cracking from nerves.

But it becomes an afterthought in short order when Gordon feels Benrey's nail tugging at his HEV suit, and he realizes that Benrey's very, very serious about this. Especially when he fixes Gordon with that intent stare. Like he's waiting for something. Permission? It must be, since he's not making any moves to pop off the armor on his thigh. Gordon looks down at Benrey's finger, chipped black paint peeking out from the corners, then back up at Benrey.

Oh, fuck this. He hates when Benrey does this. It's one of those mind games, or something. Make Gordon be the one to make the call, like it's a game of chicken and Benrey's trying to get him to lose. Instead of, you know, not derailing his entire fucking journey in the first place with the suggestion of a bath. One where, well, it does smell really nice. And he can feel the ambient heat from the water from his perch on Benrey's palm. And Benrey's offering to pry him out of his suit and, presumably, do the washing for him. So Gordon doesn't have to move a muscle. Or even think about it.

His face twists and turns its way through a melange of emotions before he decides, fuck it. Even if this is weird, and Benrey's probably playing some kind of 4-dimensional chess, his mind's already sold itself on the idea. So Gordon's tongue darts out to wet his lips, mouth unexpectedly dry.

"I-- Okay-- You know what, fine. We're already here. Just... no, fucking, tricks or jokes or whatever, man. If you leave me on some fucking rock with my dick out, I'm going to kill you," Gordon tells Benrey.

> What Benrey wants to say is that Gordon is being a baby. A bitch, even. There's no reason for him to get all flustered and pissy when they've already done so many things together. Things that only the closest of bros do, like take down a hostile invading force and push their dicks together and make out. But instead, Benrey takes a deep and steady breath as he works his nails deeper under the chassis of the HEV suit and tugs up with a satisfying click as the latches come undone and the thigh piece flops uselessly off of Gordon.

> "Cool."

> He moves onto the next section, eyes narrowing and eyebrows knitting above his nose as he looks down at Gordon and tries to focus. Head empty, aside from trying to figure out how in the hell he's actually supposed to undo all the delicate bits with fingers as big as his human. It was easier when he was small, and he supposes he could be small again, but that would be no fun. Perhaps he could just rip it off of Gordon with his teeth like the top of a sardine can, but it would be even less fun to deal with the little guy yelling at him for hours.

> Getting Gordon's goat was fun and all, but god, did the guy know how to harp on a subject like no other person he'd ever met.

> Instead, Benrey's tongue pokes out between his fangs as he presses the tip of his finger against the inside of Gordon's other thigh and lets his fingernail search for the seam, the latch. He cocks his head like an owl and leans down close enough that Gordon could touch his face, heaving out a huge and uncharacteristically irritated breath. From here, he can smell the musky odor of sweat and dirt and grime and alien goo, and it's strangely nice. Earthy. Very Gordon.

> He'd smelled it before, when he wasn't quite this big, when Gordon was unzipping his suit and climbing into his lap and drool pools at the corner of Benrey's mouth, equal parts saliva and lusty Sweet Voice and--

> Click.

> The other piece of thigh armor falls away. The noise shakes Benrey to his senses.

> "Turn please," he orders mindlessly. His voice is a bit more husky and demanding than it had been a moment before.

Gordon watches as Benrey pops off his armor like it's nothing, like Gordon hasn't spent hours fruitlessly trying to do the same himself. It would have saved him the constant indignity of relying on Benrey to get him in and out of the fucking thing. He tries really hard not to think about the indignity of this, too - Benrey's face so close to his, a hot, irritable breath fanning over him, and fingers at his--

Oh. Gordon jumps a little at the insistent press of a fingertip against his inner thigh, and heat rushes to his face. This part's mildly embarrassing at the best of times, when Benrey's smaller and more human-sized, but now? With fingers much too big for the job? Spreading his legs apart where he sits, rubbing insistently against his inner thigh... He can't help the shaky breath that forces its way out of him.

Jesus Christ, his hands are big, Gordon thinks, mind racing. Sure, yes, he's had this thought before, when Benrey was using them to slap gunships out of the air, but it's a little more pointed when they're prodding him like this. He tenses. Not entertaining these thoughts today, thank you. The whole point of this, presumably, was for a normal, ordinary bath. In a pool of mysterious alien water. With his rival stripping him down and scrubbing him. While he's so big that he could squish Gordon like a bug, if he wanted... or pick Gordon up and maneuver him around, broad fingers all over him, sizing him up. If he wanted.

He comes back to himself when he hears a command. Turn please. Quick and insistent. Gordon's eyes jerk away from where they'd been staring at Benrey's finger.

"Turn? Like, fucking-- God, ow--" Gordon hisses through his teeth as the motion twists one of his aching muscles the wrong way. "I don't even know why I'm doing this. It's not like this was stopping you... You know, I'm starting to think you just like bossing people around for no fucking reason." Despite his bitching, he does as he's told.

> Maybe he does like it. The bossing, that is. Benrey isn't sure. It's one of the few human things he knows--his job back at Black Mesa--and it's one of those things he's good at. Usually. At least now he feels good at it, with Gordon actually listening to him.

> He watches as Gordon turns, head shifting to tilt in the other direction, watching as his human trustingly turns his back to him and displays himself in a way that makes more Sweet Voice seep from between his teeth. He sniffs, he uses the back of his free hand to wipe away a trickle of fluorescent fluid trailing from his lips, and quickly wipes his hands off on his pants. His eyes never leaves Gordon's back.

> Lower back.

> His ass.

> Benrey had told him before that it was a nice one, and it was still true... uh, even if he can't really see it with Gordon sitting and all. He can imagine it in its entirety, though, nice and small, even as he fumbles with the latches on the back of the chest piece. He hardly notices as he clicks it open and the front hits the pad of his palm with an audible slap of metal against skin. He reaches around to pluck it away, the side of his hand brushing against Gordon's front.

> Gordon's heaving chest. His soft midsection. His...

> Benrey shakes his head as if snapping himself out of a trance. An involuntary laugh snorts out of his nose as he leans down, peeking over Gordon's shoulder like a creeping dragon, breath hot against the back of Gordon's neck.

> "Cute."

> And with that, he grabs the next part of Gordon: his arm, raising it up effortlessly like a doll's and carefully searching for the next latch.

Maybe facing away from Benrey wasn't the smartest idea, in retrospect. It feels like he's closer, somehow, his breath coming hotter and faster against Gordon's back. Benrey breathing down his neck should be, like, gross. Creepy. Gordon knows by now that Benrey likes to make a big deal about keeping them clean, but it's not like he knows when Benrey brushed last. It shouldn't smell... like that. Sweet. A distinct chemical note on the underside. Like ketones on his breath, but nothing that Gordon can place for certain.

Sweet Voice, probably. It's muted and subtle. He's not belting it out like he usually does, so Gordon can only guess what Benrey's feeling. Unfortunately, he's all too aware of what he's feeling: goosebumps, pebbling his skin from the neck down. A little frisson. They crawl all the way down his arms and make him shiver.  He can practically feel Benrey's eyes on him, too, all up close and personal. Don't break a sweat, he wills himself, because he knows Benrey's watching him like a hawk.

It doesn't stop a bead from pooling at the back of his hairline, then losing the fight against gravity and slowly trickling down his neck.

Benrey snorts, and Gordon flinches, cursing under his breath. He couldn't even have that, huh. Then Benrey has the audacity to call him cute. And that makes his blood pulse, briefly flashing his skin with heat, before receding just as quickly and leaving a chill in its wake.

"Wh-- Whoa, okay," Gordon starts. His indignant response is temporarily cut off by Benrey lifting his arm between a thumb and forefinger. He offers about as much resistance as a fucking action figure, even creaking a little for good measure, and it's distracting, okay?

After a few moments, though, he regains his bearings. "Shut up, man," he says, flustered. "I'm not even-- Just-- Quit being weird, okay?" Because, frankly, this is weird. He's not used to Benrey being so... accommodating. Helpful. Nice. And he doesn't know what Benrey's endgame is, here. So it just leaves Gordon feeling off-kilter. Uncertain. A little hot in the face.

> Benrey's eyes flick up like a lizard that's spotted its next meal when he hears Gordon's words, conveniently at the same time as he finds the latch with his nail. The armor on his upper arm falls away with a clonk and his fingers move down to the much-easier-to-remove gloves and wrist pieces, which come undone with a light twist and an even lighter yank. But his gaze isn't even looking at what he's doing, instead resting on the back of Gordon's hair, now wet with sweat and the dampness of his own breath.

> His skin is raised up in little bumps, and so are his hackles. Something bright and violet and base, fluorescent, builds at the back of Benrey's tongue, and he swallows it down. He has to focus, keep his composure. Get the other arm with a few quick clicks, fingers now more adventurous than they were before. The pads trail across Gordon's back, the undersuit bunching with his touch, pressing into his side for no reason other than the urge to feel. Then, when the second arm is freed, he remembers he forgot the boots.

> "Not being weird," Benrey protests as he wrangles Gordon in his grip, sighing heavily as he pinches him lightly in his grasp and rolls him in his hand like some kind of trinket. Until they're face to face once again and Gordon is flat on his back in his palm. He takes a moment to idly scratch his chin before reaching for the metal encasing his lower legs and feet.

> "Not weird to, uh, help a bro out. Be a friend. Friends call friends cute. All the time. Every day. S'pre... pre-requi... prere..." He pauses and stills and, then, with unwarranted confidence, forces the word out and continues fiddling. "It's pre-registered to, uh, do that. Yeah."

Blunt fingers at his arm, his back, his sides, prodding and rolling him around - each investigatory touch makes Gordon cognizant of just how much he's holding his breath. Until Benrey manhandles him into laying flat on his back, that is. A startled noise bursts out of him, and then Gordon's looking straight up at Benrey, with nowhere to go to escape him. Even without a hand pinning him down, he can't help but feel like he's stuck in place, anyway.

At least Gordon can sit up on his elbows a little. Less like he's some kind of specimen that way. And he lets Benrey fiddle with the boots, the strange feeling that curls in his stomach easing up on him the longer Benrey messes with something other than his soft, fleshy, vulnerable bits. He lets out a shaky breath of... relief. Let's go with that.

"IIII don't know about that," he says. "I'll be real with you, I'm not the kind of guy who does that... Uh. Well. Except there was that one time in high school? But it kind of weirded her out and she stopped talking to me."

Gordon pauses for a moment, brows wrinkling in thought. Then he shakes himself. "Anyway, that's not even the point. The point is," Gordon emphasizes, feeling like he's trying to present a convincing legal argument to a judge with all the size and breadth of (and possibly, the powers of) some ancient Greek god, "I think you have a, uh, tenuous grasp of what friendship entails, buddy. My friends don't call me cute."

As an afterthought, under his breath, he adds, "Nobody calls me cute." It comes out more bitter than he expects.

> The boots come off, one after another. The shin guards, too. Politely, Benrey scoops up all the miscellaneous pieces piled in his palm between his free fingers and puts them to rest next to the pool of... well, "water." Liquid. Something, though he's hard pressed to tell you exactly what it is. "The Bath."

> He listens as he does so, to Gordon squawking and muttering and saying, well, things. Things that he's not really listening to as he brings his hands back up to Gordon and tries to figure out where the zipper to the bodysuit is. Technically, he knows where it is, but his fingers are huge and the zippy-uppy part is so small, and he's prodding and poking with gentle strokes along Gordon's chest and belly where he saw the seam once-upon-a-time. He feels his nail click against the metal and it's... uh, well, it's aggravating.

> And Benrey isn't used to this kind of aggravation. Fuck's sake, he just wants to see some dic... ah. He just wants to help his best friend get a nice bath and feel better. Because he is a good guy who does good things like kill gun bugs for tiny dudes who can't shoot straight and not drive off with vehicles when Gordon leaves him alone. He's a good guy who doesn't want to be bad and--

> "Uh," he drawls, his mouth moving before he can really catch himself, "fuckin'... maybe people would call you cute if you, uh, weren't such a, uh, mean. So mean about it. Mean to me, just trying to say nices. To my best friend. Being such a good and a cool."

> His voice dies as he misses the zipper again. Fuck. When he speaks again, it darkens.

> "Please unzip suit? Please? Thank-you."

Soon enough Benrey's got him down to that reinforced bodysuit, the last piece of armor sliding off his hand with little resistance. Usually, this is where this process stops: Benrey gets him out of the armor, and Gordon fucks off and does whatever it is he needs to do. Change. Wash up. Sleep. The part where Benrey starts tugging at the fabric in search of the zipper? That's new. And it catches Gordon so unawares that he can't even speak.

That fingertip strokes him, almost, warm even through the black fabric, and a harsh breath whistles through Gordon's nose. It feels him up from his chest to his belly, a warm and insistent pressure. All the words in Gordon's brain get trapped in a mental sieve. In their place is a single, repeating thought:

Oh, God.

Benrey keeps trying, again and again, fingernails scraping uselessly against Gordon's belly. And his eyebrows furrow harder with the effort, frustration evident in his frown. And his fingers. Their grasping grows rough and imprecise and Gordon's trying so hard to bite his lip because there's an ugly noise threatening to punch his way out of him and Benrey's saying something to him that he can barely focus on and then finally, finally, he's giving up and pulling away. Christ.

It takes a moment for his mental fog to clear and for Benrey's words to sink in. Unzip? Himself? Oh, no. Somehow that's worse.

"Can you, like... give me some privacy, maybe?" Gordon complains.

He immediately feels stupid afterward. It trickles down from his scalp like something cold and slimy. So he clears his throat, and admits, begrudging, "I, uh... I'm not trying to be mean. It's been a long fucking day, okay? You're... uh... Well. Thanks. I guess. For trying to be nice."

There's a beat before the silence gets to be too uncomfortable, and Gordon hurriedly follows it up by saying, "Don't take this the wrong way. I think you could still use a few pointers on being 'nice' to 'humans', you know."

> "Wha?"

> In a second, the irritation is gone. Benrey's expression turns flat. He leans in close to Gordon and inhales deeply (yup, still smells like Gordon) and exhales just as hard.

> "I'm nice," he defends, eyes flicking down the pile of HEV parts on the island. "Fuckin', ah, Mother Tuh-ree-sah. You're the one who is bein'--"

> A pause. Nice. He was being nice, and he wasn't going to pick at Gordon. He wasn't going to point out that he was the one being snippy, while he was out here undressing him, and carrying him around, and getting ready to give him a bath, and maybe touch his--

> Wait.

> "Privacy?"

> The word tastes bad, real bad. The kind of bad that makes Benrey want to scrape his tongue off on his teeth. That isn't how they'd played these games before. Is this even still a game, though? Did "nice" contradict "games" too much? He isn't sure and he doesn't even give himself a chance to think about it as he nudges Gordon encouragingly with a finger and the words just start rolling out of his mouth.

> "No? No place to private at, bro. Maybe gonna have to just, ah, suck it up, friend. Besides--"

> Benrey leans forward on the island on his elbow, chin resting in his hand. As his body tilts, Gordon raises higher up due to his shifting of positions.

> "Can't, ah, can't not look. Dinosaurs and, uh, zombies out here. Ghosts. Gotta keep my eye on you. Safe-tee."

Safety. Right. As much as Gordon doesn't want to admit it, Benrey has a point. He's... vulnerable like this. And it would be just his luck that he gets beset by a peeper puppy with his dick hanging out. More to the point, he knows that it's stupid to develop a sense of modesty all of a sudden when Benrey's seen his dick before. It's just, you know, the size. The scrutiny.

Heat lodges itself in Gordon's face and makes a home there as Benrey brings him all the closer. As if to see him better. "Dinosaurs and zombies," he snorts. He can't believe that's the justification Benrey's giving him. And he can't believe he's buying it.

"Just... fucking, okay. Don't stare, at least," Gordon tells him, as if it will help.

The zipper's nestled in the seam at his neck, right in the center. Gordon fishes it out with shaky fingers. And then, slowly, he drags it down his front.

As he does, his flesh starts to spill from the suit in a creamy sliver. He's paler underneath, skin shielded from the sun for so long that his characteristic tan has all but faded. Consequences of running around in a HEV suit in the middle of Bulgaria. The rattle of the zipper rings in Gordon's ears, louder than life. First his chest, then his stomach, prickling with goosebumps in turn as they're revealed.

Finally, he pulls it down to its endpoint, just under his navel. Gordon's face burns with embarrassment.

> That... was easier than Benrey anticipated. Usually there's more resistance or, you know, playing involved whenever he asked Gordon to do something like that. Usually he had something a little more snide to say. Something in the air has changed, though, and he dimly wonders if maybe all of that advice he'd taken from the Resistors (Resistance? Transistors? Alyx, basically) has actually paid off.

> Learning how to human does, in fact, make interacting with Gordon easier.

> His pupils widen as he stares, mouth slightly agape, as more and more of Gordon's skin is revealed to him, a pretty porcelain color that looks incredibly soft and as delicate as a china doll. Usually he's darker, tanner; Benrey didn't know humans could change colors like that, but it's an interesting development and one that requires further investigation.

> So he leans closer, head tilted, watching the zipper come undone. Curiosity grips him as he gingerly reaches up and hooks his nails into the open edges of the suit and tugs, enough to jostle Gordon and peel away the wrapper but not enough to actually knock Gordon off his feet. As he does so, he ignores the sounds of protests, mouth opening wider and lifting in a sharkish grin.

> He's so pale now, but he's just as soft as Benrey remembers. Just as warm. Hair's still in all the right places, muscles in his arms growing visible as Benrey tugs the sleeves down, then the rest, leaving the top half of the bodysuit dangling from around his still-covered waist.

> He waits a moment, drinking in the sight. He could almost see his--

> No. No. No dick thinking, not now. No. He wasn't going to say anything because he was seriously just trying to be nice. And make Gordon shut up. And...

> And...

> "Cute."

> The word comes out while his brain is still arguing with himself. For a moment, he considers apologizing, or trying to pretend he never said it, but ultimately decides to stand by what he said.

> His eyes lift to rest on Gordon's face as he silently doubles down, waiting for a reply.

"Hey, careful," Gordon yelps, caught off-guard by fingers at the edges of his open suit. "You don't have to fucking-- Benrey, I can do this myself!" But there's no fighting him off before Benrey's tugging it down his shoulders, baring him from the waist up.

Impatient. That's the word that comes to mind. Benrey's itching to get him out of this thing, Gordon realizes. If it wasn't already obvious by that insistent scrape of nails against his jumpsuit, or the way Benrey's looking at him now, eyes wide and mouth parted. That heat in Gordon's cheeks crawls down to his chest. He's staring at Gordon like he's hungry, and all the pasty skin being revealed to him may as well be a juicy T-bone steak. Being half-naked ought to be making him pretty chilly in a place like this, but for some reason, it feels way too fucking hot right now.

Thankfully, Benrey stops there, which gives him a moment to get his bearings. On the other hand, Benrey's calling him fucking cute again, and Gordon was having a bad enough time handling that earlier. Now? Jesus, the guy's barely paying attention to him. Mumbling it like it's an afterthought. He doesn't know what it means.

"I-- I'm not fucking cute, dude, we already established this," he insists, doing his level best not to meet Benrey's stare. Gordon folds his arms, irritable and flushed a bright red. "I'm too mean or whatever. I got the picture. You don't have to keep fucking with me."

> Oh, he's changing colors again. Red now, from the tips of his ears down to his chest, and Benrey snorts a laugh. Of course humans can change colors. He'd seen him do this before. A few times actually.

> But he's just turning red, and being snippy, and he's not making a move to take off the rest of the suit. Benrey's eyes flick from Gordon to the water and, with a low chuckle, he decides to take the cue. Which... was a cue, right? He's pretty sure it's a cue, but humans were weird to begin with and Gordon was odder than most.

> Has to be a cue, he decides after a moment of silence wherein Gordon doesn't budge. He grabs the draping top of the suit and gently peels it downwards towards Gordon's feet, watching it pull away from sweaty, dirty skin. Watching it expose dark curls of hair just below his stomach, and watching Gordon's dick spill out into the open air. Benrey's teeth dig into his lips as he watches, even as his hands move clumsily to strip the rest of the rubbery material off of his legs.

> He's touched that before. Wants to touch it again, wants to say something about it. But he can't because apparently it was bad form to say shit about your best bro's average-but-good meat when he wasn't specifically asking, or at least that's what his stupid, skinny doppelganger had said and--

> God. Wait. No. He shakes his head. Best to focus on anything else.

> What else had the Resist-y Squad said? To listen? Humans liked listening? Even when they were being bitchy little drama-snots?

> Then he should... listen, right? But... what had Gordon said? He wasn't actually paying attention. He furrows his brow and his stare intensifies as he tries to piece together enough of the words he did hear to paint a picture. It takes a moment, but soon, it clicks.

> Oh. Yeah. Not cute. Blah, blah. Something, something "mean."

> Benrey's mouth snaps shut as he struggles to tear his eyes away from Gordon's cock, instead keeping a trained eye on his face. His mind is a machine running on fumes with rattling parts, but he struggles through the distraction. He's going to be reassuring. He's a good friend.

> "Uh... yeah? Mean? Cute? You can be both. Bratty little, ah, Gordon Meanman with his nice... cute. Cute little hog."

> The words come out before he can stop them.

> Goddammit.

Oh, God, okay, so none of what he said got through, clearly. He squawks out as much. Gordon's mind spins into overdrive as Benrey manifestly does not let him take care of it himself, instead peeling the jumpsuit clean off his hips and legs and exposing him from top to bottom. His heart thunders in his chest, and he presses his legs tightly together in a futile attempt at modesty.

"My-- my cute little-- Jesus Christ, Benrey, you can not say shit like like that!" Gordon snaps. He jams his hands between his legs to cover himself, humiliation boiling over.

Fucking Benrey. Always saying the worst possible shit, the most embarrassing shit. Gordon thinks this as furiously as he can, because if he acknowledges that there's anything other than purestrain embarrassment and indignation at play, he's gonna snap like a twig. That's all it is. He's a normal guy, and normal guys don't feel their dicks twitch when their best friend calls their dick cute. And... little. That's worse. Much worse.

The thing that Gordon's still failing to understand is why Benrey's still calling him cute. Yeah, it gets his goat, but it's not like Benrey was in the habit of pulling this shit before. And... And Gordon doesn't know why it's getting to him so much, either.

The first time seemed like a prank. A bad joke. The second time, an accident. And the third - fourth - fifth? The times after that, he's not sure anymore. But each time it gets his skin burning hotter and his heart skipping a beat and Gordon's still pissed off but he's not sure exactly why. (Well, in the general sense. This time, it's because Benrey's straight up insulting his dick, thank you.)

"Why did I even agree to this," he moans, head hanging between his shoulders. "Everything's always gotta be a big fucking ordeal for Gordon. You know what, just put me down if you're gonna-- gonna make fun of my meat or whatever! I'll get myself a bath and then we can go and forget this ever happened."

> There is something about the way Gordon fusses at him that makes Benrey's heart skip a beat, though it also awakens something in the back of his mind that he's been consciously trying to tamp down. The urge to pick at him grows as large as his smile as he hooks two fingers under Gordon's arms and lifts him up and out of his palm like a claw in a skill crane. Words dance on the tip of his tongue, ones better fit for a schoolyard bully, and he rumbles a dark laugh as he contemplates what to say.

> It seems the crack about his hog got him all worked up in a delicious sort of way, judging from the way he's still bright crimson and his dick seems appreciative of Benrey's attention. He could double down on that. Then again, he was supposed to be nice in this situation, wasn't he? He'd been doing so good up until this point, and he could imagine the Resist-y People would be proud if they could see him now.

> But the reaction. It's... it's good. Seeing Gordon's dick twitch, seeing him bright as a tomato, seeing him sweating and nervously dodging his gaze. All were signs that he was interested, that he may just be thinking the same things Benrey has been trying not to think and... fuck, them's good thoughts. Great thoughts.

> Maybe there's a line to walk between. Play the game and still be "nice." Benrey wets his lips and huffs a sweet-scented laugh into Gordon's face, before gently lowering him into the water. The surface of the pool practically sparks as Gordon's bare feet make contact, and a shimmering azure mist billows into the air.

> "Nuh-uh. Nope," Benrey replies with a pop of the p. "You're, uh, tired. Gonna, y'know, get you sparkly. Clean. Squeaky. Pretty. Make you feel so good you'll, uh, wanna buy BFF necklaces after."

> Once Gordon is nestled in the pool, he leans down close and presses down on his shoulders to urge him into a seated position.

> "'Sides, ah. Not making fun. S'nice. Cute. Fun size."

> Emphasis on "fun," Benrey thinks, and his smile widens.

A tingle effervesces across Gordon's skin as Benrey slowly lowers him into the water, something like carbonation but not quite. For one, bubbles aren't nucleating on him so much as drifting toward the surface, sluggish and small. But the effect is as curiously refreshing as a cold glass of Pepsi.

In contrast, the water itself is warm and clear, and the humidity fogs up his glasses in short order. Makes it hard to see Benrey before he's firmly suggesting that Gordon sit down. With his hand. He's not expecting it, and he sinks to his knees with a splash and a quiet "whoa, shit".

Gordon rights himself, sitting back against the edge of the pool. And he opens his mouth to say-- well, something, you know, there was a lot to unpack in whatever the fuck Benrey just said to him, but he barely gets it out before Benrey's talking over him.

Cute. Fun size.

"Stop, okay, just stop talking about my meat! Can we please move on? Any other topic?" He crosses his arms in front of his face.

This is, it's too fucking much, okay, there's-- it's just-- the word was already starting to crawl under his skin, and he's just an average American male! You're not supposed to say this shit to another dude! And you're not supposed to, fucking, swallow and shudder when you hear that shit, either. Not supposed to like being talked down to like that. By... by such a big guy. Who probably does think he's a fun size right now. Probably wants to...

Gordon splashes his face with water. Then he takes off his glasses after the fact, feeling like an idiot. See, this is why he's got to get Benrey to knock it off. Too much. Gets him lost in his own head. Gets his blood pumping. And the last thing he wants is to embarrass himself by looking a gift horse in the mouth, getting a boner when Benrey's just trying to do him a solid.

Well. At least that's what he's saying he's doing. The jury's still out on that one. But either way, the most likely outcome is that Benrey never lets him live it down, and Gordon doesn't know if he can handle the psychological devastation right now. So.

"Here, look, I'll even... okay, so, what is this stuff, anyway? It feels like I'm taking a bath in a... a hot energy drink. But like, in a good way?" He cups some in his hand and lets it spill through his fingers. "Last time I jumped in this stuff, I think it fixed a bone. Is that normal? Weirdest fucking thing I ever felt, man."

> "I 'unno," Benrey answers honestly. Because, well, he doesn't know what this stuff is. Even if he knows a lot about Xen (and would be hard-pressed to tell you exactly how he knows these things), it's not like he knew much more than "this thing will eat you" and "this thing won't." All he knows is that these pools feel good and smell good and do things that are good, and could more than likely get Gordon clean. Make him have a more agreeable scent than the already agreeable people-odor he's already wearing.

> The Gordon smell. It's... a nice smell.

> "It's water. Uh. Bubbles." Benrey dips his fingertips in the pool to wet them and feels the curious, sparkling sensation around his skin; it's warm and cold and fizzy and, honestly? Yeah, kind of refreshing. Like caffeinated Pop Rocks or something. He dimly wonders what it tastes like, but ultimately decides not to drink the bath water.

> "Doesn't matter. You're thinking a lot. About wrong things. Need to focus on, uh, getting you ready. For the ball. Gordo-rella." He pauses, scowling. That was bad even for him. Quickly, he recovers, as if it never happened. "So, quiet? Please? Relax?"

> With that, Benrey extends one wet finger and presses against Gordon's chest, as carefully as he can, working in the glittering water and scrubbing gingerly at his chest hair. He works his muscles with a care he didn't know he possessed, and then maneuvers to his shoulders. He feels Gordon's muscles loosening underneath his touch and it makes him feel... accomplished.

> But his eyes keep straying down, down into the water where Gordon's dick should be, obscured by bubbles and blue. And he exhales, fighting the urge to press a button, to raise him up and see if it's still twitching in anticipation, wondering if he'll see it break the surface and greet him.

> Benrey's eyes screw shut and his fingers still as he takes a moment to force himself to be, as Gordon would say, "normal." It is a foreign feeling.

> He is not a fan.

"G-Gordo-rella?" Gordon bursts out laughing despite himself. "That's so bad, I know you can do better than that!" And the funny thing is, he does know. Benrey's got jokes. He's... good at making Gordon laugh. Even when he's clearly phoning it in.

The laughter sets him at ease for the first time since they'd set out the day before. And when Benrey reaches out to start scrubbing, Gordon flinches, but does as Benrey suggests and eventually relaxes into it.

Benrey's strangely quiet as he does it. Doesn't make any dumb quips. Doesn't start talking about video games or whatever. So Gordon doesn't feel inclined to break the silence, either. The meaner part of him insists that it's just because he doesn't want to set Benrey off on some dipshit tangent, but the truth is, it's kind of nice. The quiet. Even if it's bordering on surreal. All he can hear is the quiet sound of Benrey washing his skin, dipping his fingers into the water. His breathing, measured but heavy. And the sound of his own heartbeat pounding in his chest.

The bath itself isn't half-bad, either. He didn't expect Benrey to be this... careful. Not a word Gordon really associates with the guy. But Benrey's fingers work his muscles in tight circles, slow and firm, washing off however many days of sweat and dirt and blood, and Gordon's finds himself melting a little. Letting his eyes drift shut.

He groans when Benrey works his thumb into his back just right, dislodging a knot in the muscle he wasn't even aware of until it was gone. "Oh my God, how did you do that," Gordon breathes.

> Oh. Oh.

> That noise was a... nice one. A pleasant one. One that makes Benrey hesitate for a second and lose his smile before quickly regaining it and pretending he'd never misplaced it in the first place. And he figures Gordon likely didn't notice--his human can't see without the glasses--so he says nothing as he dips his fingers yet again and massages into Gordon's shoulders, exploring every inch and feeling how bizarre every groove and curve is underneath the pad of his finger.

> It's odd, but not a bad odd. The kind of odd that requires further investigation because, while he's had his hands on Gordon before, this feels different. Better, even, in some ways. Motivated by equal parts curiosity and mounting desire, he continues to glide across Gordon's skin and work his muscles and feel them loosen and pause to take in the rapid thudding of Gordon's tiny, tiny pulse against his skin.

> Benrey swallows the Sweet Voice pooling in the back of his mouth. He gags. He coughs into his shoulder. His voice breaks a bit as his normally flat demeanor begins to falter amid a mob of intrusive thoughts that march right into his brain like little soldiers.

> "Can do it 'cause 'm not human. Got magic fingers. Call now. For $19.99, we'll throw in a second one free," Benrey recites, but his eyes are still looking for a hint of cock. But not just that--

> "Limited time offer. Supplies going fast. Better, uh, pick up that phone."

> -- his chest, bits of leg sticking out of the water, that pretty neck, that long hair--

> "Call in, uh, next fifteen minutes and I'll... uh..."

> --that stomach, slightly soft around the middle, and arms that were too strong for somebody of his persuasion--

> "Uh."

> -- every inch that HEV suit wouldn't let him see. Gordon would look so much better in something more... breezy. Clingy. Revealing.

> "Fuck," he says breathily. Something roils inside him, and a lot of it is unfortunately roiling below the belt. So much for subtlety. So much for "nice."

Benrey keeps scrubbing, keeps rubbing his sore muscles between thumbs and index fingers, and it takes a conscious effort for Gordon not to doze off. Even the prickling of fizzy bubbles against his skin fights an upward battle to keep him awake. It's just, he's been on the go for way too long, now, and days of tension are leaching out of him, and Benrey's, like, weirdly good at this. For once, Gordon doesn't have to be thinking about parallel universes and the end of the fucking world or whatever. Somebody else can do the thinking for him.

And then he starts rambling about magic fingers like he's hosting some kind of infomercial and Gordon's laugh comes easier and harder than it has any right to. But Benrey's trailing off now, distracted. Swearing under his breath. Gordon blinks open his eyes and glances up at him.

Despite his lack of glasses, Benrey's big enough (and close enough) that Gordon can make out most of his expression, even if it's fuzzy and indistinct. His mouth hangs open a little, and his brows are knotted up under the cast shadow of his helmet. Like he's thinking about something.

"Free shipping?" Gordon finishes his joke for him. Benrey must have lost his train of thought again. Gordon's mostly used to it... mostly.

He shrugs and rolls his shoulders from side to side, grunting and making small, quiet noises as he stretches. Man, that feels good. There must be something in the water, even if Benrey was, as usual, unhelpful as to what.

Finally, Gordon decides to tug out the band from his hair, spilling it loose over his shoulders. He snaps it around his wrist for safekeeping, then runs his hands through his hair to shake it out.

"Uh. While we're at it. Think you could get my hair later? Like, I don't know where you got the soap from, but I'm assuming you can just, like, magic up some conditioner or something, too."

> Benrey doesn't know how to tell Gordon he didn't actually have soaps. He said so, but he... he didn't. If not for Gordon pointing out that he could "magic" some up, he might have been really stuck, but with a quick shake of his head to bring himself back to his senses, his face lights up once more with a teasing smile and his tone eases back into his typical taunting monotone.

> "Uh. Yeahs. Soaps and, uh, condo-stuff. Got'cha."

> There is a flash of green as he lifts his hand above him (in a dramatic way that he hopes is as cool and impressive as it looks in his head), and feels something slimy manifest in his hands. Slimy and, well, scented like a Glade plug-in. Like flowers and "summer breezes" and things that are a lot more Earth-y than the Sweet Voice. It's a nice color, too, but one that doesn't match how he feels it should look, because it smells more like blue than it does white and...

> ... You know what? It doesn't matter.

> Benrey dips a fingertip in the soap like a child about to paint and, tongue poking out between his teeth once more, sets to work giving Gordon a once-over yet again. He hopes that maybe Gordon won't notice or point out the fact he hadn't even used soap in the first place, as distracted as he was, and just accept the fact that Benrey is once more rubbing his shoulders, his chest, his arms, his legs. Lifting up limbs and maneuvering them to get into hard-to-reach places. Pushing a little firmer than before to feel for that fluttering pulse.

> God, his own heart is beginning to match it beat for beat.

> "Yeah," Benrey mutters at long last as his tongue darts back into his mouth, "I can. Do that. Get your hair."

> His hair. His hair is so pretty when it's down, already having grown out after he cut it in the Bad Ending World. Silky and nice with bits of gray that make him look like he's as smart as he thinks he is--

> No, no. Nice. Nice. He is grappling with the idea of being nice!

> "Get your hair with, uh, real shit. Good shampoo. Actual soaps and stuff that ain't, uh, the stuff. Your stuff. Head and Shoulders. Make you look real good, real nice. Nice for m--uh."

> He pauses. He snaps his mouth shut. He pauses over Gordon's body and thinks for a moment. He wants to say it, he wants to tease and pick and make Gordon flush bright red and play their stupid goddamn game, but now isn't the time. He doesn't think so, at least? Maybe it is?

> Does Gordon think it is? He hopes so, but he doesn't know how to tell. And, apparently, humans didn't like it when their alien best friends played games they didn't want to play.

> "... Mandatory hair inspection," he recovers. "Black Mesa, uh, protocol. Already fucked up the passport. Don't... don't fuck up hair day."

Blood doesn't so much rush to Gordon's face as it crawls, moving as sluggishly as his mind does, processing this. He knows what Benrey was gonna say before he snapped his mouth shut like a mousetrap. Gordon swore he could even hear the teeth click.

Maybe he didn't actually say it, but Gordon's entire system reacts as though he has, because, fucking, he did! For all intents and purposes! A bright, prickling heat surges down his spine that has nothing to do with the water. Why does he talk like that?! Fucking cooing at him, like Benrey's taking some kind of sick pleasure in teasing him in the most embarrassing way possible... but that's about what Gordon expects at this point.

So why did he stop himself?

When Benrey marshals his voice into something more flat and toneless, Gordon frowns. He's... he's really trying, isn't he. Trying to do something decent without turning it into one of their fucked up little games. Some of the mental furniture rearranges itself in Gordon's head, pictures straightened and doorways unjammed.

Unfortunately, all the dusting and clearing in the world can't change the fact that the foundation in his head is wired to make him a paranoid little fucker. And Benrey's always playing some kind of 4th-dimensional chess with him, anyway, right? He's just being rational. Wary.

That said... he's already here. He might as well relax and deal with the consequences later. Especially when... oh.

Benrey's washing him in earnest, fingers pressing into him and manipulating him. They're all over him, probing him without direction, and now Gordon's not sure if "relaxed" is the best descriptor for himself. There's just, there's a lot of touching happening, and Benrey's hands are so, so big, and Gordon can just make out the tip of Benrey's tongue poking through his teeth and something about that intense focus - on him - makes Gordon's breathing go shallow.

Christ. He can't-- He shouldn't think about this. This is the kind of sick shit that only happens in his head, not in real life. Gordon's just a normal guy with something very wrong with him, and that "something" makes him more prone than most to awful little fantasies, intrusive thoughts.

That's all this is. There's gotta be something wrong with him to want somebody ten times his size to touch him like this, but in, like, a horny way. Like some kind of freakjob doing gross shit with an action figure. Maybe it doesn't make him a bad person. So long as he keeps it to himself. He'll keep all his weird little fantasies right next to his heart, and then he'll die. That's that.

It's almost over, Gordon tells himself furiously, willing his blood to stop rushing to his dick and his stomach to stop coiling with heat. If he can just focus, he can will his boner down before he has to get out of the pool and then Benrey will be none the wiser.

"Okay, first of all, I didn't fuck up the passport," Gordon blusters, in an attempt to power through it. "I never needed one before! If anything, I think you fucked up, man. Never told me about Black Mesa Picture Day or whatever."

> Benrey's fingers do not pause as Gordon fusses at him, but his eyes can't stay focused on his own work. He's too busy watching Gordon's throat bob as he swallows around a lump, or how his blush is darkening and spreading. He's gauging the look in his eyes, looking for any indication that he can go ahead and make it weird, but--even though he's sweating and nervous and fidgety and acting just like he does when they're playing--Benrey is too nervous to make a move.

> And "nervous" wasn't a part of his vocabulary until that Alyx lady and Gordon's own downhill slide made it obvious that he actually had to think human to interact with humans. His human specifically.

> So, even though he sees the signs, he decides to bite his tongue. It is foreign, it is uncomfortable, and it's almost painful to choke down. To redirect his alien brain into more terrestrial channels. To try to figure out what a human person would do in his situation and, barring that, just continuing to do what he was supposed to be doing in the first place.

> Bathing Gordon.

> "Shouldn't have to tell you. S'in the, ah, employee handbook. Welcome packet. Folder. Right next to Warhammer 401k and, uh, ensure-ants."

> He cups a small amount of water in his palm and trickles it over Gordon's body, watching it drain down his form in sparkling rivulets. They trace his contours, weaving into every nook and cranny and crease that Benrey couldn't reach, and he watches them with an intensity that even he can feel. A warmth in his gut, a twitch of his dick. His tongue laps at his lips like a hungry animal; he wants to lick every droplet off of Gordon and explore ever inch of him as thoroughly as the bathwater.

> But... no. No, no. He's normal. He's normal and human and he's being nice, and Gordon hasn't said anything so he's going to close his eyes, huff angrily, and then continue on his merry way.

> "Everyone knows about, uh, Hair Inspection Day. And Passport Inspection. You, ah, you're just... uh."

> Benrey breathes heavily out of his nose as his eyes lock on Gordon yet again. Staring up at him, red-faced. Hair now adhered to his skin from the water. Chest heaving. He reaches out in spite of himself and presses a fingertip to Gordon's torso once more, feeling that rapid pulse and feeling it rise and fall with each breath. Knowing he could make Gordon's heart race faster and really put his lungs to work.

> He wants to feel him pant, wants to hear each heavy breath accompanied with his name and...

> No. God, it's getting so fucking hard to resist the game, but Benrey is good! Good for his best friend! He's learned and he's going to stay good. He's just being nice. He can be nice without being--

> "Missed a spot," Benrey lies as he pulls his finger away. He pretends to rinse Gordon off once more and sputters a cough. "Now, let's get those, ah, locks. Clean and brushed. Shiny. Barbie Girl, Barbie World, am I right?"

Gordon ducks his head instinctively as Benrey douses him with water, shielding his face. There's a huff from above him, and then another, breath hot and heavy on Gordon's neck. The closest comparable experience is... it's like being trapped under some kind of big fucking animal. A bear, maybe, snorting at the nape of his neck before it decides to eat him. Violently.

Cool. He loves thoughts like that. A pleasant reminder that they don't exactly carry fucking risperidone in the aftermath of a fascist takeover.

He shakes his head again to rid himself of it, then looks at Benrey in surprise when he presses a fingertip to his chest. It just rests there, warm and steady. Not pulling or pinching or shoving or any of the things Gordon expects. Gears whir to life in his head. Benrey's being-- he's being kind of fucking weird, but not in the ways Gordon's grown accustomed to, and when he's spent the entirety of their working relationship trying to get his sea legs, it throws him off just as badly when the boat stops rocking.

"I don't know how to tell you this, but it's not just Barbies who have to wash their hair," Gordon snorts at him. "You got me all worried now, man, I don't even know if you know the basics. It's shampoo, then conditioner, okay?"

After a moment, he slicks his hair back out of his face, too. For good measure. "And try not to get it in my eyes, either... Actually, uh, I'm kind of having second thoughts about this. Maybe you should just let me handle it. No offense."

> "Know what I'm doin'. I got hair. Nice hair. Better than... uh, Mr. 2-in-1," Benrey protests, masking the sudden wave of panic that just roiled up inside of him. Just the idea of not touching Gordon is too much, and he inwardly crinkles at the thought of missing his chance to feel his human again. And again. And again. Petting and scrubbing and massaging and imagining what it would be like to get Gordon close enough to his face that he could taste him.

> But... he can't do that. He's not allowed. This isn't The Game. This is A Nice Favor for His Person and, well, he's got to be normal. And chill. And calm. And this is all really too fucking hard.

> However, as long as he plays by the rules, he still gets a chance to touch Gordon, and he supposes that is a small victory. It's what spurs him on to press his thighs together and shift his weight to hide his burgeoning boner behind the Xenian island so that Gordon can't be alarmed or scandalized or angry or accusatory. It's what prompts him to summon from the ether, yet again, a new supply of nice-smelling soaps and an equally pleasant conditioner that still don't match the color his brain tells him they should be.

> And, with fangs pressed into his bottom lip, he dips his finger into the shampoo freshly spawned in his palm and swirls it gently, watching as Gordon regards him with a mixture of curiosity and what he hopes isn't disdain. He's been working so hard to try to not make the guy angry, and he's struggling not to slip.

> Slowly, he drips a dollop of soap onto Gordon's head--towards the back, since he is honestly trying to obey the request not to blind him--followed by a few drops of glittering, warm water. He monitors the way Gordon's expression changes as he presses against his head as gently as he can and begins to work it into a lather.

> It's... nice. It's not the usual rough stuff and bullying he's used to, but there is something undeniably pleasant about watching Gordon melt into his touch as he works, careful and light, his body rocking with the movements in a way that makes Benrey feel both strangely aroused and, well... warm. As warm as the pool of water, all on the inside like a badly heated burrito. It's new, and uncomfortable, but not unwelcome, and he savors it by trying to make the moment stretch.

> From the scalp and downwards, until his finger is stroking the side of Gordon's cheek and reaching under his chin as if trying to tilt his head up for a kiss he was way too big to give. Like a true romantic that he knew, in his gut, he wasn't actually anywhere close to being. But it felt right, and the dazed and pleasant look in Gordon's eyes shatter the alien armor around his heart in one powerful blow.

> Benrey swallows hard and says nothing. He just scrubs and stares. And scrubs. And stares.

> Slow, precise, delicate circles. Enjoying the moment, and buying time as he tries to untangle this utterly alien knot of feelings that is twisting around in his gut. Feelings he isn't sure he understands or particularly wants, but addictive all the same.

"Oh, that's kinda nice, actually," Gordon mumbles distantly, as Benrey starts to lather up his hair.

It's impressive, honestly, just how delicate Benrey's capable of being when he puts his mind to it. The pressure's firm enough that it feels good against his scalp, but he's not being knocked around or given a headache or anything. It's... pleasant. His eyes drift shut again, now that he's pretty sure Benrey's got the hang of it.

That finger slips lower, lower, stroking the side of Gordon's jaw, and Gordon leans into it. Lets him work soap into the underside of his facial hair. (And that's nice, too. It's the kind of thing he figured Benrey would miss.) And if Benrey rubs a bit slower, tilts his head up just a little so that Gordon has to peer up at him through slowly-blinking eyes, well, he's not going to complain.

Benrey's eyes are so big, so close to his and so intently focused that-- that he's sweating a little, just visible at the edge of Gordon's vision. Gordon's heart beats faster, and a strange tension begins to wind itself tight in him. It's like Benrey's trying to scan him. All that attention focused directly on him gins up butterflies in his stomach.

Gordon's suddenly hit by the awareness that nobody's done anything like this for him in a long, long time. Maybe ever. And here he is, letting his frenemy (best frenemy, whispers an annoying little voice that sounds suspiciously like Benrey) scrub him clean. Take care of him. How in the fuck did he end up here? And, more importantly, why is he so comfortable with this? This is the guy who got his arm cut off, not, fucking, not his live-in girlfriend. That broke up with him a couple years ago, citing the fact that he was "a puffed-up MIT asshole". Whatever. Details.

After a long stretch of silence, Gordon breaks it by saying, "I, uh, I think that's good. Yeah. Lemme just..."

And he pushes Benrey's finger away before ducking his head under the water, hoping Benrey doesn't notice the way his voice cracks.

> It... almost feels like he's being spurned when his finger is pushed away. There's a quaver in Gordon's voice and he isn't sure if it's nerves or rejection. In an instant, a long-dormant part of Benrey's brain flares to life, leaving him mentally bouncing theories as to why his person had sounded so off. It could have been that he was having the same sorts of thoughts Benrey had been having the whole time, or it could have been that he had done something wrong. Getting advice on how to handle Gordon came with the unpredictable side effect of giving him a lot to worry about in terms of "boundaries" and "behaving," which he honestly wasn't comfortable or keen on dealing with.

> These insecurities melt away as he watches Gordon duck under the water, however. It creates a hiccup in the system, a blue screen that necessitates a reboot. There's something distracting about the way his back arches forward, muscles moving, head dipping beneath the surface. On his knees, ass lifting up slightly so he has a touch more leverage. Hair floating to the top, and then clinging tightly to his skin as he emerges with a gasp and throws his head back and slicks it out of his face and...

> ... His face is dripping. Sopping. Water trailing from his mouth and down his beard. Running down his temples, his cheeks. Like sweat. Like... something else.

> "Holy shit," Benrey mutters with the barest hint of voice. He pauses, he tries to think of something to say that would mask the fact he's not being "normal," and he's been playing The Game the whole time, regardless of what he's been telling himself. The hamster is running, the gears are whirring, but Windows is still updating and he's at a loss for anything better to say.

> So he doubles down. His voice grows louder.

> "Holy shit."

Gordon winches his eyes shut as he wipes water from them, slinging his hair back out of his face for good measure. God, he can feel how much less greasy it is now, and it's like taking off an itchy sweater for the first time. Makes him breathe a sigh of relief.

"Thanks, man, that's honestly really... uh..."

He slows to a stop, thrown off by Benrey muttering something. Almost inaudible. It gets him to crane his neck to look up at Benrey properly, about to ask, before Benrey says it again. Louder. Okay, yeah, he did catch that right the first time, huh.

Even though he's out of focus, Gordon can still see how wide his eyes are. How slack his face is. He doesn't need the finer details to notice Benrey's hand hovering in midair, like he's been interrupted in the middle of a thought. Staring at him like... like...

Heat crashes over Gordon in a violent wave, from the crown of his head to the pit of his belly. He's not even-- he's not even doing anything. He's sopping wet, and he can't fucking stand the way his hair looks when it's laying flat and slick against his head like this, and he can't exactly hide all the unseemly scars and and stretch marks and soft spots and all the other issues he's poked at in the mirror time and time again. (He had a growth spurt as a teenager, okay, and stretching him out an extra foot and a half so quickly didn't give his skin a lot of time to adapt.)

In short, he feels more naked and exposed now, half-covered by the foamy surface of this shallow pool, than he did when Benrey had him in his palm with his entire dick out. And it makes Gordon fucking throb under the surface of the water.

He's gotta be making fun of me, Gordon desperately tells himself. Defense mechanism. It's not working as well as it usually does, and he subconsciously presses his thighs tighter together.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips, suddenly dry despite the water carding down his face.

"What," starts Gordon. But he doesn't know where to take that question, and it dies as quick as it came.

> Game over. It's done. Benrey's used his final life and lost it in a valiant attempt to beat the final boss, but now he's gawking down at Gordon who is gawking right back up at him with a tell-tale look on his face that makes Benrey almost positive that he's playing just as hard. His own breath quickens as once complicated thoughts congeal into something more comfortable, something more streamlined, something more natural.

> Something that Alyx would have been disappointed to hear, especially after how good he had been doing.

> He inhales sharply through his nose and leans in close, the air coming back out at a low laugh as his mouth twists into a hungry grin. A finger extends and he presses it against the side of Gordon's face, an almost loving stroke. He can feel a burst of heat in his cheeks and he knows, glasses or not, that Gordon can probably see how red he's getting. He shifts his legs as he floats beside the island, trying to accommodate a cock that is now frighteningly hard and twitching against his stomach.

> "What 'what?'" Benrey asks, his voice monotonous but still somehow teasing. "Can't a bro, uh, admire his bro? Have a look-see? Look nice. Pretty."

> His finger drops to the water and stirs it a bit, creating a roil of bubbles that send a pleasant, tingling sensation up his hand, his arm. It seems to travel straight to his heart, which is pounding furiously in his chest.

> "You, uh... you good? Need anymore help? Getting clean? Hard to reach places?"

> A pause. He feels his stomach twist into knots. This has never really happened before while playing this game, but it's powerful. Makes him feel desperate. Needy. Makes him feel guilty and he hates it because he never feels guilty.

> As quickly as the mask breaks, he picks up the pieces and puts them back together. He slides it back on. He takes a deep breath, fumbling with his words.

> "Want to, uh... pla... pretty? Want to pretty? Want best friend Benrey to make you, uh, cleaner? Prettier? Help you? Please? Thank-you."

Two paths emerge before Gordon. On the one, well-worn and well-lit, he would tell Benrey, "No thanks, I'm good," and he would tell Benrey to turn around so he can dry off and crawl back into the jumpsuit. And then he would let Benrey fit him in the armor again, trying his best to ignore those fingers on his skin, and later he would duck away and jerk himself raw thinking about it. Swearing at himself. Wishing he could be normal for once in his fucking life and not develop questionable new fantasies about the one guy who's as out of place in this world as he is.

On the other, bracketed by brambles and dark, uncharted woods, Gordon would... He would...

He'd get it through his head that he's not the only little fucking weirdo in this relationship. That Benrey keeps staring at him like that for a reason.

And that Benrey's trying so fucking hard to play nice because... well... Gordon hasn't wrapped his head around that one yet, but he has his suspicions. Some of them more worrying than others. But the point is, Benrey's not taking the bait. He's got Gordon in a highly vulnerable position, and he could be pushing Gordon around if he wanted, playing their little game and driving him up the wall.

But he isn't. He keeps choking it back. It's unsettling. Gordon doesn't know how to handle it. He kind of wishes, in the back of his mind, that Benrey would tack on his 'schoolyard bully' demeanor again. At least that Gordon understands on some level. Push, pull, tussle.

And most unsettling of all is that downright tender way that Benrey drags a finger along his cheek. Anxiety thrums to life in Gordon's blood. No, no, that's not-- This is weird. This is so weird. There's something roiling and ugly churning in his stomach, and he doesn't like it one bit. He's not coping with it, he needs to-- to wrangle this situation, get some control over it, steer it back to familiar territory.

And in doing so, Gordon floors it directly into the woods.

He looks back at Benrey, taking in the hot flush crawling up his skin. The awkward shifting. I'm not the only freak here, Gordon reminds himself, blood pounding in his ears.

So he shifts himself. Sits back, draws his legs up so that his knees peek out of the water. Lets them fall to the sides, just a little. And he says, tucking a strand of wet hair behind his ear,

"What, and you're not even gonna-- That's some low-hanging fruit you're leaving on the vine. Startin' to get worried about you, man. You haven't gone this long without making fun of me in... uh, ever."

> Wait. Was that...?

> Was that admission?

> Benrey's pupils grow wide at the words, and his smile threatens to falter as he feels the cogs creaking inside of his head. Connecting the dots with all the newfound information he has on human people is like doing the advanced science stuff Gordon seemed to believe he was so special for knowing. There's emotional equations, rechecking the data, counter-arguments for every theory he comes up with, but in the end a little lightbulb flickers to life. The lights are on, somebody is home, and by god does that somebody want to play ball already.

> Benrey's finger stills on Gordon's cheek and he feels an uncharacteristic lump grow in his throat as his face grows redder and sweat beads at his brow. That weird emotion that once wrapped itself around its siblings, Worry and Guilt, finally cut itself loose and tangles itself in his stomach. He doesn't like it--it's too warm, and it's not the horny kind of heat that he's used to--but he allows it to stay. It feels like it may turn into something good if he just lets it incubate.

> "Uh, what? Not gonna... huh?"

> Benrey's voice cracks just like Gordon's had a moment before. He pretends it never happened and seamlessly continues.

> "Not gonna, ah, make fun of you. Gonna... gonna pick that fruit, though."

> His finger trails down Gordon's chin, down his neck, across his shoulders, down his chest. It rests dangerously low on his belly, threatening to dip lower. He grins at Gordon, leans in close, and huffs a laugh that's less malicious than it is honestly amused with its own cleverness.

> "Uh, get it? Fruit? Picked? You're, ah, you're the fruit, bro."

> A pause.

> "Laugh, please."

Gordon swallows, hard. The implications hit him like a bowling ball. That somebody's dropping on him. Maybe from an overpass or something. He's spinning out a little, alright, and losing his grip on the metaphor.

Benrey's fingertip leaves goosebumps in its wake, and his breathing goes shallow as the nail lightly catches on the crook of his neck. Lower, lower, slipping just below the surface of the water to rest on his belly, and Gordon thanks every deity he can imagine (and some he can't) that the bubbles hide... well. This, feeling it throb where it lies heavy against his hip.

Despite himself, he does actually laugh when Benrey prompts it. It comes out high and way louder than he intended, but still. Now that's a metaphor he's got a good grasp on, he thinks wildly. Oh, Christ.

"That's-- that's not really what I meant," Gordon tries to argue, but not with very much conviction. "But, uh, ha ha! Great joke! Fucking love jokes, man!"

> Benrey doesn't really hear what Gordon is saying. He does know that tone, though, from times they've played The Game before. It's a tone that speaks of permission, a sort of polite denial without the force. The kind of arguing that Benrey knows he can get away with ignoring because it's not sincere. Game talk. A challenge.

> Their own secret language of want.

> "Thank-you," Benrey purrs when Gordon forces a laugh, and his finger rubs a slow, slow circle into Gordon's stomach. He's sure Gordon notices when it bumps a bit too low, because he can feel something tell-tale just beneath the surface of the water. His grin grows at the realization that he was on the right track, tongue slipping out from between his teeth and running along his lips. A show, given to Gordon.

> A show he desperately wants Gordon to notice is meant for him. A tech demo. A promise.

> "But, uh... if that ain't what you meant. What did you mean? 'Cause you seem to be enjoyin' this, best friend."

A noise threatens to burst from Gordon's chest when Benrey starts to rub, slow and insistent, and grazes against-- Oh, God. But he clamps his lips tight, and all that escapes him is a harsh puff of air through his nose. He knows now, he knows, and it's written all over his face, a raised eyebrow and a smug smile and the slow, deliberate movement of his tongue over his lower lip.

It's fucking cartoonish, is what it is. Gordon should laugh. Gordon does laugh, again, another nervous little titter that doesn't communicate "amusement" so much as "flustered hysteria".

"I don't know," he blurts out, and it's the most honest thing he's said all day. "Fucking, God, I'm not-- This isn't what it looks like, okay, you just-- you keep looking at me like that, and I don't know what your fucking game is, man!"

He can't look at Benrey, not right now, not when he knows Benrey's looking at him like that, and so he looks down and oh, no, that's a bad idea. Because Benrey's still drawing tight little circles into his skin, unnervingly gentle. And so Gordon's eyes keep darting around, finding nowhere suitable to land.

At least Benrey's taking the bait. He's not doing that weird sappy shit anymore, and Gordon's in more familiar territory: the push and pull. The teasing. So he pulls harder, in hopes that Benrey will knock it off for good.

"If anybody's 'enjoying this', it's you, buddy! I'm just a, uh, innocent bystander, you know?"

> He doesn't sound convincing. There's fractures in his voice, and his words are stumbling like they fell down the stairs. He's looking everywhere but at Benrey, his face red and his eyes nervously darting from thing to thing to thing. But, in the end, they always come back to him, in one way or another.

> It's tells like this that let Benrey know that he's playing. The Game is afoot, he's been given the go-ahead. It's time to take the ball and run.

> "Uh-huh. Sure. Innocent. Lessee what you're hidin', bro."

> And with that, Benrey removes his finger from Gordon's stomach, instead parting his fingers into a V-shape and hooking Gordon underneath his arms. It's like a claw in a skill crane and, with a snort, he lifts Gordon out of the water. Naked, wet, and standing at attention from the looks of it; his human apparently had been playing along a lot longer than Benrey knew. He watches Gordon dangling a few feet from the pool at the end of his hand and smirks.

> But there's something different now, isn't there? Something Benrey sees in his human that makes that weird feeling he's been fighting twirl and twist. He's barely even noticing Gordon's boner more than he's looking at the way his hair is clinging to his face, and the way his eyes are flicking up at him expectantly, and how warm and small and cute he looks. He looks delicate and handsome and he wants to touch him, but he wants to touch all of him, and his heart is thumping so hard he starts to worry because... fuck. Is he dying? Is Gordon killing him just by being cute?

> Benrey swallows hard. He hopes his expression didn't falter. He broadens his grin in case it did, until the muscles in his cheeks honestly hurt. And he inhales deeply and forces a mocking laugh and squeezes his fingers around Gordon gently in an attempt to further mock him.

> "I 'unno, bro. Looks like you're, uh... you're carrying without a permit. That's... uh, an infract... fracta... infection. You're a bad boy, aren't'cha?"

Gordon yelps as those fingers hook under his arms and drag him out of the water. Oh, God, his legs are kicking out from underneath him, and his hands scrabble at Benrey's, and Benrey's just smirking at him all up close and personal and he's fucked, he's really, really fucked. His fucking dick bobs in the air like-- like-- he doesn't know, he doesn't have a simile for this! Gordon's never been in this situation before! But bob it does, until he comes to a stop right in front of Benrey's face.

"It's infraction, dude!" Gordon snaps, his mind jumping to the least important thing Benrey said. "Fucking 'infraction'! And I don't-- I don't know what you expect when you're all, fucking--"

He's cut off by a gasp when Benrey squeezes him, just a little. Makes Gordon keenly aware of those big fingers. He can just... he can do whatever he fucking wants, huh? Pick Gordon up like it's nothing? Wrap those fingers around him, so big and hot and rough against his skin, and move all his limbs around just like he was doing earlier and--

And--

Gordon blinks, coming back to himself. Face hot. Mouth dry. And Benrey's grin looks impossibly wider.

"You know," he finishes weakly.

> "Maybe I do," Benrey responds, jostling Gordon lightly. "Maybe I don't. Maybe you should tell me, bro. When I'm all fuckin' what?"

> He lifts Gordon higher, and closer. Really gets a good look at him, leaning in and running his tongue along his jagged teeth. Like a predator, like something that wants to swallow Gordon whole, though that's the last thing on his mind. He wants to taste Gordon, that's for sure, but there's... there's more to it.

> He wants to reel him in. Follow this weird feeling. Press his lips against Gordon and--

> Benrey inhales sharply through his nose. Gordon smells positively delicious. Like something fruity and sweet and earthly. And he looks delicious, too, all soft and supple and soaked to the bone, smooth skin glistening in the alien lights.

> His dick twitches, straining against his pants. He's so hard it hurts. He wonders if Gordon can see, but can't imagine he can miss it.

> "C'mon," he teases, his voice dropping to a dangerous whisper. "Tell me what I am, bro. Tell best friend Benrey what's on your mind. Bonding experience. Bros being bros."

He wrenches his eyes shut, breath coming harder and faster despite his efforts to control it. When Benrey fucking talks like that, he can't help it, okay? All-- all smug and condescending and all the shit that should get under his skin-- and does, yeah, it drives him up the wall, but. But. There must be something wrong with him, Gordon thinks desperately. Something warped in the fabric of his mind that makes a shiver race down his spine.

Then he feels warm breath puffing against his face, and he opens his eyes again. Just in time to see a broad tongue run across sharp, sharp teeth. A naked suggestion. Gordon's mouth falls open a little and hangs there, stunned speechless.

Until Benrey mutters, c'mooon, voice low and heated in a way that goes straight to Gordon's belly. And his dick twitches in the open air, fully visible this time. Fuck.

"You're," he starts, staring at his own fingertips, where they're digging into Benrey's hand.

God, this is humiliating! And he should, he should tell Benrey to fuck off and put him down, but he doesn't. That same warp in his fabric goes all the way down to his autonomic nervous system. Heart racing, blood pumping, pupils dilating and sweat beading and every other unconscious reaction he can't wrangle into submission.

Because he wants to be wrangled into submission.

Okay, Christ! He gets it! He doesn't need the color commentary from his own fucking brain!

Gordon takes a deep breath to steel himself, and then he starts again, choked and hesitant, "When you're... God, fucking, touching me and breathing on me and shit, man! Like you'd be doing any better if you had somebody's big fucking hands all over you! Okay?"

As soon as the words leave him, a fresh wave of embarrassment crests and crashes over him. Stupid, stupid, he shouldn't have said it.

> Oh. Well. That was new. Usually, there's a bit more arguing, a bit more resistance, a bit more of Benrey getting called things like "weirdo" and "freak" before they have a good "haha" about it and touch dicks. But Gordon is being so earnest and honest and talking about how he's touching him, about big hands, about doing this same thing to Benrey (sort of talking about it, anyway), and...

> ... And Benrey feels... wanted? Was that the word? Wanted?

> Yeah. He feels wanted.

> And that foreign, alien, hot-cold emotion twisting inside of him balloons and explodes, and there is a sudden, pulse-pounding sensation of want and warmth that courses through his body like a poison. He can feel drool pooling under his tongue and he swallows hard, his smile fading into something more earnest as he tries to maintain a mocking, bullying stare. Tries to keep his head in the game.

> Their game.

> "Oh. You, uh. You like it when I breathe on you? Fuckin'... secret alien power. Uh, blow dryer." He pauses and chuckles. "Heh. Blow."

> He inches Gordon closer to his face, and the closer he brings him, the more he can feel the little bit of warmth radiating off of him. Welcoming him. Blazing hot, like he is on the inside, and flushed so red he looked burned. And that warm, weird, unwelcome emotion surges again as he lets out a sigh and sits Gordon in his palm, plopping him down unceremoniously like a captured bug.

> Only he's not watching him with a childlike curiosity. He's really examining him, trying to wiggle the wrench out of the gears in his brain. With some effort, he pops it loose, and the words pour out of his mouth without any restraint.

> "Bet'cha you'd like it if I, uh... dried you off. Gentle breeze. Pick a scent. Have eight exciting flavors. Blue. Watermelon. Other blue. Tropical, uh, kiss."

> Even he isn't sure why he stressed that last word. The weird emotion spoke for him.

> His mouth snaps shut.

> Awkward.

Whatever Gordon was expecting, it wasn't "being dropped buck-naked onto Benrey's palm". His legs splay out in front of him, and he instinctively tries to draw his knees up. Doesn't change the fact that he's got his boner out in front of God and everybody.

"Was that supposed to be a joke?" Despite himself, he bursts out laughing. He does his best to choke it back down. "You really, uh, gotta work on your dirty talk, man."

Gordon doesn't manage to catch himself before he all but admits that, yeah, that was dirty talk. This is a situation where Benrey should be trying to talk dirty to him. It's breaking the rules a little. Breaking kayfabe. But it's hard to resist bringing it up when Benrey's trying to get him hot by talking about blowing on him like a spoonful of soup.

Then he actually thinks about what Benrey said. Tropical kiss. That's not-- that's not anything. That's not real. Benrey's just talking about kissing him, in whatever weird fucking roundabout way he usually does. A small part of him softens. It's... almost cute. If he were inclined to ever describe Benrey that way. Which he isn't.

But Gordon plays along anyway. "What are you talking about? Scents? Dude, I smelled your breath earlier, and lemme tell you, it wasn't any kind of fucking tropical kiss."

> "Uh, no. S'one of the other flavors," Benrey responds indignantly, façade breaking for a moment. "That flavor was, uh... Glade Plug-in."

> As he speaks, he reels Gordon in closer, sitting in his palm and still sopping wet. He looks so small, so delicate, so... cute, and the thought makes his heart flutter again. It grabs his tongue and twists it into an awkward knot that takes a moment to untie. He works fast, hoping to save face. Get back in the game.

> But it's hard. Harder than before, and as Gordon stares at him expectantly, he's suddenly floundering. While he is externally stiff, flat, and monotonous, on the inside he is scrambling to pick up his scattered index cards during a speech. He wants to play, but he wants to taste. He wants to stroke Gordon's head as much as his dick and he doesn't know why. He wants to say something naughty and nice all at the same time and...

> "Lemme, uh. Demo. Demon-stray-shun," Benrey says, interrupting his own thoughts. "Tropical kiss. Free sample. Here we go."

> And with that, he brings Gordon to his mouth. He presses the smaller man into his lips, a small and chaste kiss being planted in the first place he can reach: Gordon's throat. Only it's... not just his throat. It's basically his whole shoulder, and throat, and beneath his jaw. He practically envelops him, could literally swallow him if he wanted to, but pulls away and snorts a laugh as though this spontaneous act was premeditated as a joke.

> He sounds unconvincing.

> Even more so when he chuckles, "See? Coconut. Sea breeze. Lime. Seagulls. All the classic smells."

Lips press against Gordon's skin before he's fully prepared for it, and he lets out a surprised little sound. Jaw and throat alike find themselves enveloped, a heat and softness and moisture the likes of which he's never felt quite like this. And then it's over. Gordon's still left dizzily processing this as Benrey draws back.

"Did you just kiss me?" Gordon asks, stupidly. He touches a hand to his jaw, where there's a hint of moisture lingering.

The longer Gordon thinks about it, the more disoriented he becomes. Benrey's never kissed him like that before. All, fucking, sweet and tender. Those aren't words in his vocab. Like, yeah, sure, they've kissed before, but only in frantic, snarling bursts. This is strange and new.

But... at the same time... that's not all it is, is it. At this scale, chasteness is impossible. Gordon's so small in his hand, wet and splayed like some kind of foal, and those hands could wrap around every inch of him at once just to touch him. Lips, kissing wide swathes of skin. Hot breaths of air forced through Benrey's nose and spurring the hairs on the back of Gordon's neck to stand up. The unpleasant realization that Benrey is very, very big, and could probably just swallow Gordon whole if he so chose. You know. Normal things to worry about.

But he doesn't. He just lets Gordon go with a kiss. And Gordon flushes up to his ears, still a little dumbstruck.

> That was... new. That wasn't like the lust-fueled, rushed kisses he'd given Gordon while trying to get fingers around his cock, but it wasn't bad. It was something that scratched an itch he didn't know he had, something that made his lips tingle, something that milked an incredibly good feeling out of that foreign emotion swirling inside of him. It's intoxicating in a way human substances never could quite pull off, and Benrey feels an addiction already forming.

> It takes him a moment to realize that Gordon has spoken. It's just a tiny sound to his colossal ears, one he nearly misses from the full-body throb of lust and affection. It's not just his dick anymore. His heart is thundering against every bone, every inch of skin, and he feels almost overwhelmed. Again, like he's dying. This is new, it's intense.

> He wets his lips and furrows his brow, and with a surprising amount of clarity, rattles, "Yeah... uh. I guess I did, huh?"

> His tongue continues to run over his lips. His teeth. His eyes dart to Gordon. He's struggling to play the game properly, but there's a sudden bout of nerves involved. He can't help but wonder if this is how Gordon feels all the time, and the realization clonks him like a clawhammer.

> If this is how Gordon feels all the time, then no wonder he's always such a mess. It's latching onto his jaw and holding it shut like an invisible muzzle, it's pumping him full of drugs that don't exist, it's making him feel small despite being absolutely batshit levels of huge. And, it feels like he's learning... god, what had Alyx called it? Empathy? He's not sure how much he likes it, but it mingles well with the now-welcome warmth following the kiss in a way that feels positively, cathartically self-destructive.

> Benrey coughs. He doesn't laugh. He doesn't tease. He looks to Gordon with an intensity even he's surprised he can pull off.

> "You, uh. Like it? Wan' another one? I got, uh, plenty. Warehouses full. Best Friend Special. BOGO."

Gordon watches Benrey's tongue slide over his teeth like it's in slow motion, a reminder of what lies just underneath the surface. And he freezes under the intensity of Benrey's stare, anticipatory sweat beading on his forehead.

"What, you mean you want to..." He trails off with a nervous laugh. "C'mon, man, put me down! I know you get a kick out of, fucking, making fun of me or whatever, but I don't know what you're getting out of this!"

> Unfortunately, Benrey knows exactly what he was getting out of this. A feeling, strong and tingly that's now full of a primal need that he understands quite a bit better. And, beyond that, he was getting permission. Full permission in every movement Gordon made, every lilt of his voice, every glance up at him that was filled with a hunger that his human never got quite got the hang of voicing. It's a look that Benrey knows good and well, though, from the other time they've played their little games.

> He says nothing. He just smiles, moves Gordon to his mouth again, and pushes his lips gently against his collar bone, though it stretches down to his chest. He can feel Gordon's nipple brush against the corner of his lip, hair brushing against his mouth, the taste of the strange, glittering water and skin as he parts his lips and rumbles a laugh into Gordon.

> He pulls away. He maneuvers his human. He presses his mouth against him again, brushing his stomach with a feather-light kiss that nearly encompasses his dick. He can feel it pressing against him, feel it twitch as he pokes a tongue out between his teeth and presses the very tip into his soft flesh.

> His eyes angle up to Gordon's in a silent bid for a sign. The lick intensifies, nimbly avoiding the cock poking at the very corner of his mouth.

> He continues to say nothing. He has a feeling he doesn't have to. Gordon isn't the only one who can get away with communicating silent intent in their back-and-forth.

Of course Benrey's not gonna answer him. Of course Benrey's just gonna grin at him - like an asshole - and kiss him again, lips soft against his chest. Right over his heart. It's cartoonish, is what it is. And, unfortunately, it's also more ticklish than Gordon expects, and he snorts aloud.

"What are you doing? You're being weird, dude."

When Benrey laughs back at him, his huffed breath ruffles Gordon's body hair, and it just makes that whole "sensitivity" problem worse. Gordon tries to choke down a giggle and fails. Despite himself, it's... it's nice. He almost feels light-headed.

And then Benrey's doing it again, a soft kiss against his middle, shifting him bodily into position, and Gordon laughs again, shoving at his face. Playful. Roughhousing. Their usual.

And again. "That-- That tickles, man, c'mon!"

And again, hot against his belly. Mouth parted. Benrey's chin grazes his dick, which he'd all but forgotten about in his reflexive urge to kick Benrey away. A peal of laughter bleeds into a gasp. All the worse when Gordon feels the wet-hot tip of a tongue push into his skin.

Oh God. It feels just like he thought it would. In that dream, that fucking dream, the one he can't get out of his mind. The one that's made Gordon look twice every time Benrey grins at him, teeth sharp and glossy. He freezes, afraid even to breathe too heavily and press himself all the more against Benrey's tongue.

"What are you doing," he asks again, this time less of a playful rebuff and more of a high squeak. Then it's hotter, wetter, more of the broad side of Benrey's tongue flattening against him, and his dick twitches, hard.

Fuck.

> Alyx would be disappointed, Benrey thinks. He was doing so good and playing so nice, and now he's licking a hot, wet stripe across Gordon's belly, feeling the hairs and skin against his tongue, teeth barely grazing against sensitive flesh. But, he knows things she doesn't and will never know, about the game and the language that he and Gordon have built. He squeaks in defiance, but with a tone that shows only polite refusal: Oh, I couldn't possibly, but if you insist.

> Gordon isn't pressing against his face. He isn't pushing him away. He isn't snarling and cursing, and he hasn't made any move to extricate himself. He's parting his legs invitingly, his voice is getting higher in want and anticipation, and his dick is so hard. As hard as Benrey's, to be honest, and twitching almost as if its beckoning.

> "What'm I doing?" Benrey purrs, and he can see Gordon's body tremble at the way it rumbles through him. "M'helpin'. S'what best friends do."

> With that, his jaw opens wide, his tongue slithering out and the tip dipping lower. Low enough to catch his cock, his legs, the entire bottom of his stomach. It presses hard against Gordon and then creeps upward before coiling up politely behind Benrey's jagged smile. Drool pools at the corner of his lips and he swipes it away with his spare hand.

> He opens his mouth and dives back in again, the faintest hint of flesh and salt and soap and glittering, sweet Xen water dancing across his tongue. It fills him with another burst of primal want, though it's watching the flush on Gordon grow deeper that satiates that other, newer beast nesting inside of him.

Hot, wet, sinuous, pressing against his belly like a snake, making him gasp and jerk instinctively - Gordon's head spins on contact. And Benrey's eyes keep flicking up to meet his, like he's gauging Gordon's reaction. Looking for the go-ahead. Like-- Like they haven't been playing this fucking game for hours, glorified foreplay, you know, like he hadn't let Benrey practically feel him up behind the bleachers while he was (is) stripped down to nothing.

When Gordon's legs jerk open, though, he doesn't snap them closed again. He lets them fall open, leaving room for Benrey's face. If he wanted. To put his face anywhere around there. It's embarrassing as soon as the thought hits his conscious mind, and Gordon burns a bright red down to his shoulders.

"I-I don't know if this is what every 'best friend' is supposed to d-- oh-- oh God, Benrey--"

His voice pitches up, raw and hoarse, as Benrey's tongue flattens itself against his thighs and dick. No more games. Just what this was always building up to, this whole time, if Gordon had just paid a little more attention, pushed his glasses back up on his nose and seen the hunger in Benrey's eyes. And the full knowledge of it cracks over his skull like an egg.

His chest heaves desperately to catch his breath, but it's so much, he can't--

He can't--

Benrey's going back for more, licking him in slow, deliberate strokes and chuffing like a big cat against him, and Gordon can't fucking think. His hands clench at Benrey's, then, finding that inadequate, at his own face. His hair.

"Benrey," he chokes out again. "You're gonna-- oh-- you just gave me a bath and you're gonna get me all fuckin' nasty again, man!"

It comes out as a whine that belies just how fucking stupid he sounds.

> "I'll, uh, just bathe you again. No biggie."

> Benrey's voice is low, dismissive. There is a dark and teasing chuckle hidden just under the surface, as much of a predator as the rest of him. Waiting for a moment to strike, to snag his prey and drag it beneath the surface. But not now, not now.

> Benrey likes to play with his food.

> His alien tongue is strangely dexterous, encircling Gordon's thighs and tracing wet lines into the crease where they met his body. Faint trails of Sweet Voice-tainted saliva leave visible marks of where he's been, allowing Gordon to ogle at exactly when Benrey is doing to him even after he's moved on. Even after he's moved from one leg to the other, to his belly, to his cock.

> His own aches as he flattens his tongue against his dick and licks upwards, like an animal lapping water. His tongue curls delicately and folds back into his mouth, scraping against pointed teeth before emerging again. Hungry, tasting, teasing and growing faster, more deliberate. The taste of Gordon swirl in his mouth and he feels a heat building in his belly so hot and dangerous that it almost makes him feel ill.

> And it intensifies with every squeak Gordon makes, every pant that falls out of his mouth. It drives him onward, a leopard on the prowl, gradually cornering its next meal. His own breath is becoming ragged, his mind a messy whorl of emotions and thoughts that make time seem as though it hardly matters. He's long forgotten how long he's been teasing, eyes nearly crossed to focus on Gordon. Benrey has long been lost in the sounds he makes, the way he writhes.

> It's almost like divine inspiration when it strikes him that he should maybe push him a bit harder.

> Delicately, and uncharacteristically slow, he rolls his tongue back into his mouth. He parts his lips and fits them around Gordon's length. He can't suck, not at this size, but he hums in satisfaction, the vibrations pulsing straight from him and into his human.

> If he wasn't so afraid of doing damage, he'd have smiled.

"We don't have time to--" Gordon breaks off in a moan, that compulsive need to worry stopped in its tracks by Benrey's tongue.

He shivers from his neck down to his toes when it worms around his thighs, digging into those sensitive creases in his skin. Something like a laugh bubbles out of him, but it's also something like a whimper, with a hint of a plea.

"You can't," he gasps, fighting for breath, "you can't do this to me, man, you don't even-- ah! Fuck! Don't even know!"

Gordon turns his face to the side and buries a noise into Benrey's hand. Makes it easier to cope when Benrey licks up to his chest and swirls his tongue, his own breath loud and hot around it. Tasting everywhere he can get to.  Benrey just keeps going, salivating and groaning for the sheer thrill of it, and it makes heat pulse off Gordon's skin in waves.

Faster, harder, enveloping him in ways he had only dreamed possible, something only he can do - Benrey - just for him, he doesn't do this shit with anyone else, how could he. Gordon squirms and gasps in his grip, legs straining to arch into that wet heat.

Agony creeps into his voice, low and haggard. "Benrey," he whines, "how are you so fucking... good at this, why are you even--"

He doesn't get to finish that thought before Benrey's lips wrap around him, and he hums, smug as a cat that's gotten the cream, and Gordon cries out so hard that some winged thing bursts out from a nearby outcropping. How is-- Why is he-- what does he even get out of this, he thinks wildly, brain desperately clinging to neuroticism even in the face of sexual obliteration.

> Every time Gordon shifts his weight, whines, looks away, says a word, Benrey feels that warm, weird emotion surge through him in a way that defies explanation. A feeling he thinks he can now identify, but is hesitant to verbalize, lest he somehow break the rules. But, it's so much stronger than before, especially after everything they'd been through, especially with the way Gordon is finally saying what he really means. Instead of snapping that he's being weird, he's whimpering praise and the words hang crookedly in his head like paintings in a forgotten room.

> "Benrey, how are you so fucking... good at this?"

> The boner he'd been ignoring for what seemed like millennia is now aching, and he pushes his hips against the side of the island and grinds upwards in hopes of finding something resembling relief. Unsurprisingly, what he finds is a crotch full of rocks, and he winces even as he continues to lavish Gordon with attention, breath hot out of his nose as he continues to hum and mouth at his dick. As he unfurls his tongue once more and presses it against his entire body and pushes Gordon against the palm of his hand, something akin to a wet hug. As the tip once again finds Gordon's cock and greedily laps at it, mesmerized by how prominent it is compared to the rest of his soft body.

> There is no give. Just hardness, sinking into the sensitive muscle.

> As he continues on--gently sucking on entire hands, tracing circles into the wet skin of his stomach, tasting the inside of his thighs while grazing his junk with the side of his tongue--he grunts. He feels his hips rocking just out of Gordon's sight. He clenches his free hand when its not in use pulling Gordon's legs apart for easier access or fiddling with his arm to get access to his fingers.

> It's instinctual, and impossible to ignore. He aches, and he knows Gordon can see he's losing himself to this as much as his prey.

> He waits to see if Gordon will have anything to say about it.

Gordon grabs desperately at Benrey's face, a nasal noise forced out of him on every exhale. It's more than a blowjob, it's, it's Benrey humming through his entire fucking body, okay? He can feel it down to his bones, and the inside of Benrey's mouth is achingly warm and so, so wet, and Benrey just keeps mouthing at him, tongue unfurling behind his teeth to lap up Gordon's length in a hot stripe.

It's... it's good. It's so good. Gordon closes his eyes tight and moans aloud.

Benrey moans, too, as his lips part from Gordon's dick to envelop his fingers instead. He pants through his nose and shuffles awkwardly, and the uncomfortable motion gets Gordon to open his eyes again. And he really looks, this time.

Oh.

He's hard.

Benrey's hard, and he's rocking his hips forward into the barren earth. And he's got his hands on Gordon instead of himself. Thumbing his chest and spreading him open. The burden of that knowledge makes Gordon pant like a dog.

"Oh my God," he warbles, voice cracking as Benrey draws patterns into his stomach with his tongue, "are you-- are you not gonna--"

Gordon slaps his hands over his mouth, suddenly regretting his words. No, he's not going to ask if Benrey's gonna touch his own dick, Jesus Christ. That's none of his business. What does he even care, anyway. It's not like he wants to see it. Not like he's curious about how big it would look once Benrey whipped it out. Gordon's aware of the general, you know, size and girth, proportionally, but it looks so much bigger down there, even in the confines of his work pants. It's not really fair.

And then Benrey grunts against him and flicks the tip of his tongue against his dick even faster, and Gordon can't stop the agonized whine that forces its way out of him.

> Benrey's tongue rolls up Gordon's body yet again, and again, and again. It envelops his dick, his thighs, his stomach, and everything in between. He watches, he waits, and eventually he hears Gordon's voice small and broken from his palm. It is enough to make him recoil, to open the floodgates in his mind. That warm feeling floods the inside of his skull and drowns out every thought out but lust, who is gasping for air defiantly.

> "Huh?"

> Benrey pauses, looking down at Gordon--soaked and slimy and oh-so-small--laying with his legs parted, his face flushed, his eyes locked on the very prominent erection straining against his pants. His own trail down to it and he smirks as the weight of Gordon's almost-question hits him.

> "Oh... huh? Wha? Touch myself? Is, uh, is that what you were gonna say?"

> He leans down over Gordon, tongue sticking out between sharp teeth but frustratingly distant from his body. The hand he'd once used to manhandle his human pulled away, fingers slipping into his waistband behind his belt. He sneers, but there is no actual malice behind it. Feigned mockery, just to make Gordon grow brighter. Redder.

> "You... seem to like the idea. You, uh. You... you wanna see? That what you want? Wanna see best friend Benrey's massive hog? Wanna... wanna touch it?"

> A pause, a laugh.

> "Want me to touch it? Seems you like the idea. I can do it. Just, uh, gotta say so."

Gordon mumbles a quiet plea into his hands, begging for some higher power to-- to do something. He doesn't know what. All he knows is that Benrey's sticking his tongue between his teeth, now, looking at him as if he's some problem to be solved or some piece of furniture to wrangle into place. Instead of keeping that tongue right where he had it. Gordon squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath through his nose. He's not disappointed, actually. That would involve caring about what Benrey was doing at all. Which he doesn't.

"You can... you can do whatever you want, man. It's your life," he says, not meeting Benrey's eyes.

Not like he wants to... oh, God. That's Benrey's hand in his pants, isn't it? Slipping under the waistband before Gordon’s even finished his sentence. A sound escapes him that he really wishes wouldn't. He’s really into this, huh, Gordon thinks distantly, just as surprised by the realization as he has been all the previous times he’s figured out that, yes, Benrey actually is pretty hot for him. Like he’s still waiting for the Band-Aid to be ripped off, even now. Even after Benrey’s sucked his dick in a fucking dumpster. (You take what you can get.)

And-- And there it is, huh. Larger than life. Gordon swallows, a little intimidated. Then he wants to curse himself out for feeling intimidated by Benrey’s dick. Freud would have a field day with him.

[glazelilyy]

Hello luce! It’s been a hot minute. My brain has been a little empty lately, with… bleh. School work. I’ll never get quite use to homework, and my grades will suffer all the more for it. But in any case. How have you been lately?

Recently, the Mondstadt reputation rewards caught my eye. I’m curious about the NRE and the portable waypoint. I could just look it up or whatever, get the experience there, but then there wouldn’t be much of a point of playing genshin on the first place for me. That all aside, how do you like fishing? Ive been really enjoying it, but I feel distaste for the long respawn times of the fish. I wish it was like, only one real life day instead of three. Did you participate kn the Lunar Leviathan event?

Do you have any tips for expanding vocabulary? I’ve been trying to check thesaurus’s word of the day, along with other dictionaries, what advice you have on it if any?

I don’t have any good transitions for this, but here are some Kaeya hcs I came up with on the spot.

-Kaeya putting his cape on your shoulder when he has to leave the room. People staring at him incredulously, “The Calvary captain??? Without his signature cape???” “That’s Sir Kaeya for you. He gets uncharacteristically sweet when ever his s/o is around,”

-Kaeya coming to work in braids because you braided his hair while you two were cuddling that morning. Adamantly refuses to take it out unless it’s by you at the end of the day.

-memorizes your favorite takeout orders, every side, every specification. Then, when you need comfort food, he’ll be able to bring your favorite food to you with no hassle.

-begging you for attention when he’s bored. “Y/nnnnn, you’re so cruel… coming so late to pick me up from the angels share… hold me, y/n… I’m so incredibly touched starved from your missing presence..!” It’s all playful, of course, but he hopes the genuine affection for you isn’t lost in translation. Because after a stressful day of work, you really are all he needs.

-I like to imagine that if you were a knight of Favionous, on some days, you’d be able to talk to Jean and take over most of Kaeyas paperwork, giving him a break. He’d be startled, wondering if the small pile of papers on his desk is a trap, as if when he finishes it the more typical pile up to his neck will appear. He’ll scold you for it when he finds out- he’d really rather be the one taking the extra stress instead of you, after all, he’s use to it- but those days you help him split the work are the ones where he realizes now much he was in need of a break.

-🎃

🎃 nonnie!! hello hello hehe how are you? :) i'm doing pretty well myself, thanks for asking! booo i hear you on school, but it'll get better! it's only september after all and everyone's still adjusting :)

ooh i've had the nre for a while, it's a bit of a life saver (especially for me who relies on zhongli's shield far too much HAHA) but the game will always be there for you to play at your own pace! take your time and enjoy what you like best about the game :)

fishing? honestly i really like the mechanic HAHA it's sort of like animal crossing (i used to play animal crossing new horizons A LOT before i got into genshin) and fishing was always my favorite part in ac! i also like the pretty fish in genshin eeeee i really wanted this gorgeous looking crystalfish but i was fishing in an event pond and couldnt pull out the fruitpaste bait :( i'm glad you're enjoying it too!! but like you said, i hope the respawn times can be fixed!

hmm, i found that my vocabulary was best expanded the more i read. i'd find new words and remember them when i'd do google searches for more intriguing words. additionally, you can substitute a word in your writing with a suitable one that you find on thesaurus.com or onelook.com! it really depends on how much you like reading and what methods you prefer best: in the moment stuff or long-term expansion of vocabulary. either way, don't worry about rushing! take your time and find words you like the best :)

WOOHOO HEADCANONS WITH THE BEST BOY!! :D

- kaeya without his cape is like klee without her hat LOL but he'd sacrifice his appearance if it meant you'd stay warm >:)

- YES AAA he doesn't care if he looks ridiculous or whatever, his!!! s/o!!! braided!!! his!!! hair!!! and no one but you is going to take it out >:) also putting flowers, barrettes, and hairclips into his hair with his permission OOOO HE'D LOOK SO PRETTY :D

- he'd also just memorize it because when the inevitable "what do you want to eat" "idk what do YOU want to eat" scenario happens, he can just go and get your favorite since it's his favorite as well now >:)

- awww yes YES he's like a puppy that needs attention AND HE DESERVES IT MWAH MWAH HE DESERVES SO MUCH AFFECTION

- this!!! :( i think he'd definitely appreciate the thought and would cut himself some slack after tasting some relaxation in a long time :D and he might just prefer working with you opposed to working alone since you make for good company ;)

thanks for your messages and hcs 🎃 nonnie!! i absolutely adored them ehehe >:)

[palmett-hoes]

Do you have any fan casts or strong takes/feelings on the foxes’ appearances? Fandom tends to use the same Pinterest models, which feels wrong to me.

i do in fact! i've actually been meaning to make a post about how i choose to write all of the foxes' ethnicities anyway

but yes i absolutely agree that the typical pinterest model types u generally see on edits is not how i see any of them. nor is reece king or froy gutierrez or lucky blue smith one of my FCs for anyone

for a lot of them i don't necessarily have a single specific FC so much as i have like,, a general impression of features that i will see on various different people, who all may look wildly different from each other or who may not even look how i see the character as a whole but do have a specific feature i associate with them. mostly it boils down to the Energy i get tbh and that's just a Feeling i cant even explain

fun fact im a tiny bit face blind so that might account for some of why i'm so all-over about this

may as well go chronologically. some of them i definitely have more thoughts on than others

1. Dan

ethnicity: Afro Native (Sioux)

features: medium dark skin. buzzcut, killer fade. she often styles it in waves. she's very butch, wears a lot of basketball and cargo shorts, tank tops and flannels and jerseys, hiking boots. skinny but muscular, with a very rectangular body shape. defined jaw. probably like 5'4 or 5'5

FC/Energy: sometimes i get some dan energy out of janelle monae but more butch. lotta dan energy out of samira wiley. lashana lynch

2. Kevin

ethnicity: a lot of things tbd, but he's pretty multi-ethnic. i like the idea of kayleigh being half- or a quarter-japanese in addition to irish because it gives her more of a reason to go to japan for her undergrad. wymack is from d.c. which is a majority black city for its actual residents, but i also like the idea of him being Pasifika/Hawaiian. HOWEVER - and this is pretty important to my read of kevin's character - he's white passing, and has been mostly treated as a white guy who tans his whole life, like occasionally asked if he's italian maybe. learning that his father was a Distinctly Not White Man was a big shock to him.

kristin kreuk, lindsay price, phoebe cates, and marie digby are all half-asian actresses i base kayleigh on

i suppose i base his story partially on broadway actress carol channing, who revealed publically that she was a quarter black when she was like 80 years old. though maybe wentworth miller, a biracial actor who knows his father is black but also doesn't know him, is more accurate to kevin's story. then keanu reeves is a white passing actor with asian ancestry

also none of these people look anything like how i picture kevin lol. kevin is just like,, a guy. handsome ig. but kind of in a CW character kind of way

actually

kevin looks exactly like young jason momoa

3. Andrew

ethnicity: kayin/karen from myanmar

features: fat and muscular, very wide and heavy. this blog is basically all andrew body type refs. medium-olive skin, has a bit of a greyish tinge that makes him look a bit eerie or unhealthy. deep set, droopy eyes; looks so tired. flat face with a low-bridged nose. crooked teeth, especially his canines. natural hair black-ish but he bleaches it light blond. has the beginnings of martial artist punching callouses in his knuckles

FC/Energy: holy shit the characters i feel have Andrew Energy are all over the place. pedro pascal. babe ruth (yes fr). oddjob (harold sakata) from goldfinger. the jinn (mousa kraish) from american gods. gaear grimsrud (peter stormare) from fargo. takeshi kovacs (joel kinnaman) from altered carbon. and i wanna be clear, it's these characters specifically, and generally NOT the actors outside of that specific role. except pedro ❤️

4. Matt

ethnicity: cuban

appearance: matt has more of an Energy than specific features to me rn. that energy is Warm. he has that Warm bro jock dude energy. kind of a marvel hero build, hunky and muscular. very rectangular face. has this haircut:

5. Aaron

i get to cut myself some slack and not go AS in depth about aaron because he and andrew are identical twins

ethnicity: kayin/karen from myanmar

appearance: similar build to andrew, less confident and casual posture and body language. less apathetically murderous and more emotive expressions. better teeth bc his mom took him to the dentist. yes also bleaches his hair

celebrities: probably a lot like the difference between the characters and the actors. andrew is the characters and aaron is how the actors actually look. idk ive never looked at someone and thought 'hey! looks like aaron!'

6. Seth

ethnicity: have been going with half-vietnamese. considering looking into various south asian possibilities like pakistani

appearance: string bean build. that's all i have to offer

7. Allison

ethnicity: allison's very up in the air for me. she and seth are the two foxes i feel fine with being white, but im committing to having no white foxes sooo. i would say i generally see her as either half-middle eastern or chinese

appearance: plus sized and hourglass shaped. heart shaped face. taller, like 5'8 or 5'9. she has a pretty fraught history with her appearance and her parents payed for/pressured her into getting a nose job to have a 'prettier' nose. she also bleaches her hair blonde. she gets it done at a salon tho the twinyards do it in their bathroom

FC/Energy: elle king and nadia aboulhosn are my main inspos for her, esp body type but nadia esp in Vibes

8. Nicky

ethnicity: multi-ethnic. his mother is southern mexican Indigenous, possibly oaxacan. his father is mixed white/kayin

appearance: definitely takes after his mother while his father is white passing. dark brown skin, warm undertones. slightly stocky build. tall ovular head and thin aquiline nose. he's kind of just,, the opposite of the twins ig, so like their facial features look very different, which is a big part of why people don't make the connection between him and the twins alongside the difference in their skin tones, heights, and builds. nicky's build and features are very vertically-oriented, with a tall head, narrow-set eyes, thin nose with a high bridge, etc. the twins are horizontally-orienged, with broad, flat faces, wide-set eyes, wide noses with a low bridge, etc.

FC/Energy: yalitza aparicio, not a guy but one of the few Mexican Indigenous stars in the film industry and i really like her features for nicky. she's oaxacan

9. Renee

ethnicity: Black. african american

appearance: plus sized, circular/apple body shape. round face. dark skin. microlocs to a bit past her chin, bleached white and dyed at the ends. she and allison go to the salon together. femme but plain style, a lot of blouses and long skirts, practical shoes. knuckle callouses. about 5'6

FC/Energy: dominique fishback. tracie thoms, esp in RENT. gabourey sidibe. nicole byer, but not in Energy. brandy, for some reason, probably bc i think she has very serene Energy and is a little bit otherworldly. like if brandy played arwen or galadriel from lotr it would make perfect sense to me, and that's the Renee Energy™️

10. Neil

ethnicity: mixed. Black/Jewish on both sides. his father is polish ashkenazi and afro-brazilian. his mother is Black British and algerian jewish

appearance: very... sharp. like sharp all over. does that make sense? sharp features, sharp face shape, sharp angles to his body. he's got what i vaguely think of as a 'basketball build' not meaning tall but meaning very rangy and angular and lean. all limbs. seth has a similar build. lighter brown skin. he has waardenburg syndrome which is actually where he gets he gets his eye color, and his eyes are very large and widely spaced as well. freckles freckles freckles. freckles everywhere. 4a hair but at least during canon it's not very healthy and thus the curls aren't well-defined. he grows it out long enough to tie back and starts taking better care of it in post-canon. wonky, slightly crooked teeth, with a gap between the fronts

FC/Energy: now neil i actually have a ton for. mostly models which im a lil ashamed of bc i do try to draw more from athletes. alton mason is a main body type ref. mugsy bogues is good to see what i mean about the basketball build without the height. here're the boys: cykeem white, luka sabbat, désiré mia, Leo Hoyte-Egan, dylan hasselbaink, this beautiful stock photo model i've never been able to track down

i think about him every. goddamn. day.

in terms of like,, real ppl and not models: corbin bleu, especially during Jump In. figure skater elladj balde. rayan "ray ray" lopez from mindless behavior. A$AP Rocky a lil bit, maybe i just like his hairstyle idk

two more models i think are important: carissa pinkston and ralph souffrant

[nahoyaglock]

📃 AS I AM CHAPTER 3 — Discovery

SUMMARY — You knew Kageyama Tobio since you both were in diapers, being close family 'friends'. You always wanted to befriend the quiet kid but no matter your efforts, he would never crack. When you transfer schools and meet Kageyama again, what will happen to your relationship?

PAIRING — family friend!kageyama x y/n

GENRE — fluff/crack/angst

WARNINGS — kags being a bigger meanie

WORD COUNT — 2.6k

FIND THE MASTERLIST HERE

It has been about more than two weeks since your first day at Karasuno, already creating good bonds with Hinata, Nishinoya, Yamaguchi, and even Tsukishima. You were pretty close to all of them, spending alot of time together at lunch or after school, and even during the weekend. They wanted you to feel welcome, after all, you even had a little text group chat.

(Sent October 10th at 11:15 am)

Y/N: [Good morning yall, and happy birthday noya!]

Shoyo: [HAPPY BIRTHDAY NOYA!]

Tadashi: [goodmorning and happy bday!]

Tsukki: [morning, happy birthday]

Noya: [GOOD MORNING, AND THANKS GUYS!]

You smiled down at your phone before shutting it off. Since it was Noyas birthday, your mom let him and your friends come over, it also being a Saturday. You planned to have a sleepover with your new friends, Kageyama, and Tanaka of course. You had finished cleaning your living room, and despite it being small, it was big enough to fit a bunch of enthusiastic dorks, and Tsukishima.

You had begun cooking lunch, making sandwiches for you and Hinata, who was already on his way to your house. "Good morning honey," your mom spoke softly, rubbing her eyes as she walked past you to the coffee maker. "Good morning mom, Hinatas on his way here already," you smile and finish the sandwiches, putting them on a plate and walking to the living room.

"Okay, I have work today so ill be out for a little bit, tell Nishinoya I said happy birthday and Kageyama I said hello," she chuckled as she started the machine. You nodded and heard the doorbell ring, causing you to sit up and smile in excitement, placing the play down on the couch. "Thats Shoyo!"

You hop to the front door and immediately unlock the door, greeting the orange haired male with a smile that was matching his. "Hey y/n!" He greets and you let him in, closing the door behind himself. "Hi Shoyo, I made lunch," you say and lead him to the living room. "Wow, your house is really cute," he giggles and sets his bags and blanket in the corner next to the couch.

"Im glad you think so, I think Tanaka is arriving next, but i could be wrong," you say and plot down on the couch, hinata following your movements. "When is Kageyama coming?" He asks and rests his head on your shoulder, head tilted so he can look at you, but you just shrug. "He hasn't answered me since I sent him the invite yesterday," you say before handing him the plate and taking your sandwich.

"What? He answered me this morning," Hinata said and pulled his phone out of his pocket, going to his text messages with Kageyama. "Yeah, he texted me this morning, asked if i was coming to the sleepover," he said and you sae him typing on his screen. You felt hurt, Kageyama always answered you, whether it was one word, or even one letter, he always answered.

"Ah, he might've forgotten, i wont hold it against him," you smiled and decided to shake it off, it was Noyas birthday and you were ready to have fun. You and Hinata watched a bit of Netflix and ate a bit more than just the sandwhiches you made. It had been about more than an hour since the next person appeared, hearing the doorbell ring as you were in the middle of showing Hinata baby pictures of you and Kageyama.

"Ah, I bet its Tsukishima and Tadashi! Or just Tadashi!" Hinata shouts, jumping up, you following after him with a big goofy smile on your face as you both run to the door. "Its definitely Tanaka! Im calling it!" You laugh, barely able to keep up with the small male as he opens the door. As you looked at the male at the door, you and Hinata both shouted at the same time.

"Tadashi!"

"Tanaka!"

"K-kageyama?" You questioned and Hinata sighed, walking back to your room, sulking. "Its just Kageyama," he complaimed and Kageyama glared at him. "Whats that supposed to mean dumbass!" You let him in and close the door behind him as he kicks off his shoes. "Kags, you didnt bring any bags? Like, more than one?" You ask and walk to your room, seeing him hesitate to say respond.

"I'm not staying over. I just wanted to wish Nishinoya a happy birthday, i thought more people would be here by now," he nonchalantly responds, almost irritating you. "Well, you could've answered my text with a yes or no, or tell me that," you say and turn to face him, kicking his ankle softly. "Sorry," he muttered.

You entered your room with Kageyama and saw Hinata checking out your wall of pictures, filled with pictures of you and kageyama as children, you and your mom, and your friends from Nekoma. "Hey, is that Kenma?" He asked, turning his head to look at you and Kageyama with a curious face.

"Oh, yeah it is," you answer and walk over to the spot next to hinata. "Ah, Inuoka! Lev!" He exclaims with a excited expression, carefully scanning the pictures. "Is this the Nekoma volleyball club?" He asked, looking up at you with admiration as you confirm that it is.

"Thats so cool! You know Kuroo?!" He said, looking at another photo, one dear to your heart. It was the last time you saw them, you had a sleepover at Kuroos house, all the boys attending. You were wrapped in Kuroo and Inuokas arms, the 2nd years sitting on the couch in the back with the rest of the members asleep, or running around.

"Yeah, he acts like my brother sometimes. This was from our last sleepover before i came here," you state and he puts it back in his place when he hears the doorbell. "Okay, this time its DEFINITELY Tanaka!" You slap Hinatas arm and you two, once again, race to the front door. "Its gotta be Tadashi!" He once again opens the door to be met with Tanaka, causing you to shout in glory, hinata groaning.

"Uh, hello to you too," he laughs and steps over Hinata who dramatically fell to his knees. "Sorry, we were betting on who would arrive next," you laughed as he put his stuff next to Hinatas and saw Kageyama come out of your room. "Hey Tanaka," he greeted and you all sat on the couch, continuing the movie you and Hinata had started. After about 30 minutes more, there was a knock on the door.

"Thats definently Tsukishima," You say and Hinata nods as you stand up to open the door, greeting the tall blonde, noticing Tadashi and Noya behind him. "Hey Tsukki, Tadashi, and happy birthday Noya!" You greet, patting Tsukishimas arm and hugging the last two. "Everyones here, so lets get started, hmm?"

As everyone gets their stuff situated, you head to your room to get your phone and order some take out and remind your mom to get a cake before heading back out to your friends. "Noya, you ca– Noya?" You giggled softly, seeing him wrapped in a giant fluffy blanket, and he smiles. "Yes?"

"Ah, I was gonna say you can choose a movie, unless you wanna do anything else before the food arrives," you bounce before taking a seat between Tsukishima and Hinata. "Movie please, i dont want to even know what hes thinking right now," Tsukishima said, his expression was serious. You elbow him with a chuckle that follows, "its his birthday, cut him some slack."

You all decided to play a few games with an old movie playing as background noise. Truth or dare, would you rather, never have I ever, and some board games, Tsukishima winning monopoly. He was currently boasting to Kageyama with a smug look on his face as the doorbell rang.

"Food!" You shouted and jumped up to answer the door, quickly paying for the food and closing the door before bringing it to the small coffee table in your living room. "Also my mom should be home in a few minutes so call down with all the cursing Tanaka," you laughed and opened the food boxes before grabbing some plates and utensils for them to serve themselves.

You guys ate and finally put on a movie, moving the coffee table to you, Noya, Tanaka, Tadashi, and Hinata could all huddle up on the floor infront of the tv, leaving Tsukishima and Kageyama on the couch. "Hey, im home honey. Hi boys," your mom called, a big bag in hands as she slipped off her shoes. "Hi y/ns mom!" Noya called and she brought the cake over to you.

"Happy birthday Noya, and hello Kageyama, its been a while since ive seen you, you're so big," your mom patted his shoulder and he nodded. "Hello Mrs. y/l/n," he spoke politely as Tsukishima quietly laughed at him. "Behave okay? Im heading to bed. Oh, and Kageyama, your mother invited us over tomorrow so i can take you home tomorrow, " she flashed a warm smile and your face lit up as you sat up from the cuddle pile.

"I haven't been to your house in years," you exclaim and placed a hand on Kageyamas knee, giggling. He shifted a bit, causing your hand to fall and he hummed, "because Tokyo is far." You roll your eyes and lay down back between Nishinoya and Hinata. "And im not sleeping over, my moms coming in 10 minutes to pick me up."

"Ah, well either way, ill see you tomorrow Tobio," your mom waved and left to her room. It was silent as you guys kept your eyes glued to the screen. Eventually Kageyama left, so Tsukishima joined the cuddle pile until you guys got tired. Hinata and Tadashi took the couch, Tanaka and Nishinoya draped over each other near the couch, Tsukishima laying next to you on the blanket that covered the itchy carpet.

You sat up, on your phone after your friends from Nekoma decided to blow up your phone.

"You still awake?" You jumped at the voice, thinking everyone was asleep, and you turned to the voice to see the salty blonde slipping on his glasses. "Yeah, my friends texted me," you whispered before turning off your phone, the room being engulfed by darkness and you took your spot next to Tsukishima. "So you and Kageyama?" He propped his head up on his hand as he looked at you.

"Yeah, he's weird. He hasn't been talking to me that much the past few weeks." You rest your head on the pillow and pull the blanket up over you. Tsukishima hums lightly before fixing his pillow, "is he always like this? He doesnt seem that way around the team."

"I guess? Hes always been dry and stand offish since we were children, but to other people he was different." You felt tired, and Tsukishima could sense it. "Rest, worry your head tomorrow." He pats your head before taking his glasses back off and lays down, you smile. "Thanks Tsukki."

"Dont call me that."

—

Once it became morning, Tanaka and Nishinoya were the firsts to leave, followed by Tadashi. You had just come out of the shower, finding Hinata folding his blankets and cleaning up the living room, and Tsukishima talking to your mom in the kitchen as he helped wash dishes. "Good morning mom," you yawned and grabbed a key from one of the drawers. "Im gonna stop by the store, wanna come with Tsukki? Hinata?"

Tsukishima looked at your mom and she nodded, telling him it was okay and that she'd finish the dishes on her own. You left the house with the two males, taking the short walk to the store. "You're going to Kageyamas right?" Hinata asked, bouncing to keep warm in the cold air. You nod and swing the keys around your finger, "yeah, in a few hours, oh! Let me text him."

(Sent October 11th at 1:17 pm)

Y/N: [Morning Tobio!]

[I'll see you in a few hours!]

As you waited for his answer, Tsukishima spoke up. "Not to.. seem like im putting you on the spot but.. doesn't he ignore you?" He kept his hands in his pockets and his gaze forward and Hinata gasped, "Tsukki that sounds mean!" He smacked his arm, causing the taller to look down at him. "I'm just saying that its not the best way to treat someone," he rolls his eyes and Hinata scoffs. "As if you can talk."

You sigh and laugh, placing a hand on both the males arms, "calm down you two, geez." They relax in your touch and Tsukishima continues. "Seriously tho, he could be just, y'know.. being a bitch," he he spoke, putting an emphasis on bitch. "Or he could be hiding something!" Hinata gasps and you laugh at them. "Yeah yeah, but its whatever really, this is how ive always seen Tobio, it'd be weird if he was any different. Though id like it alot if he DID be a little less dry."

You remembered the talk you and Tsukishkma had before, he always brought up Kageyama and your relationship with him. Soon you started to think the same was he did. Was Kageyama really just being mean? Isnt that just how he always is? Why does he act different around others? Was it you, or was it him?

—

You kicked off your shoes as you stepped into the warm house with a bright smile, "hello Mrs. Kageyama!" You greeted as she pulled you into a hug. "Hello y/n, my you've grown! Tobio is in his room, can you take him his plate? This one is your" She said and handed you two plates. You smiled and nodded your head like a gibby child and she patted your back as you made youe way to Kageyamas room. You kicked on the door because your arms were occupied.

You heard a bed creak and a few seconds after, the door opened and was almost closed back in your face if it weren't for him catching a glimpse at the plates. "Come in," he mumbled and let you in. You walked over to his bed and put his plate down on his bed and sat on the end as he closed the door. "Wow, your room has changed alot," you smile and look around the room at his posters and pictures on the walls.

"Mhm," he plopped back down on his bed and went on his phone. You noticed this and furrowed your brows, taking a bite of your food. "You know, for someone on their phone alot, you sure do ignore my texts alot," you mainly joked, but you guessed that he didnt catch on when his expression changed and he mumbled an apology. Was that guilt on his face?

You decided to stay silent and just scroll through social media and eat your food. After a few minutes of just silence, Kageyama finished his plate and got up to take it upstairs. "Hey Kags," you called before he left and you held your plate out to him, "can you take this for me?"

"You barely ate any thing," he said and you shook the plate a little bit, causing him to grab it, scared it would fall. "I'll bring you a meatbun," he murmured and left the room. You smiled slightly at the mention of meatbuns, and stood up to stretch your legs.

You grabbed a napkin from Kageyamas bedside dresser and wiped any food off of your mouth. He had a small trash bin in the corner of his room, so you went to throw away your napkin, looking at his posters and pictures on the wall. When you opened the bin, there was a large stack of pictures atop all of the trash.

All being pictures that had you and him in them.

© tomura-heart — all rights reserved. reposting, modifying, or copying is not allowed. you may translate with my permission and correct crediting. do not read my writing as asmr. do not plagiarize.

[spacedlexi]

hey! what's ur opinion on season 2? i saw you stream some of it but not for long bc i forgot my twitch password. fav characters? fav ending? any way you wished the story played out instead?

ok im gonna answer this in like a bulleted way to avoid rambling too much (THIS DID GET LONG THO...). i answered some of this during my stream so i'll be repeating myself a little bit from there. i’ll put it under a read more for everyones sanity

general opinion:

- i dont think its great (or even all that good) but ive played/watched much worse so *shrug* it couldve been worse. playing it with a group makes it way more bearable and even funny aha so i definitely had more fun streaming it than i did playing it on my own

- wouldve been better JUST by handling clem as the player character differently. it wouldnt have solved All of its problems but it wouldve been less...annoying.... clem needed to have more agency. she was always being ordered around by dumb adults who didnt seem to care for her safety. the adults needed to take more initiative and clem (as the PC) couldve just defied orders/interjected into convos/done her own thing. this wouldve 1) given the player more agency 2) wouldve been a contrast to everyone relying on lee in s1 (couldve had everyone telling clem to stay out of the way since shes just a kid) and 3) made the adults of the group seem less...useless...since they instead are just constantly relying on an 11 year old to do everything. like do more stuff like the "clem locked in a shed and escapes into the house to steal supplies to patch herself up" thing. even tho it was ridiculous that they locked her in a shed it still gave her agency and was an opportunity to rebel and prove her resiliency/smarts/ability against the poor decisions made by the adults around her who think they know whats best

fave characters:

-none lol

- ok im joking but like only half joking. i liked sarita!! if i had to pick a non-clem character (and thats what youre asking) itd be sarita. she had a strong will/didnt take shit and was also very sweet (and cute i think shes cute hehe especially with her little nose stud)

- my dislike for most of the cast really derives from weak writing and ties back into all these adults constantly relying on an 11 year old to do everything for them

- alvin was ok and i warmed up to rebecca after she stopped being mean to clem for no reason. luke was....Fine after the first episode or 2 but gets way too much credit from people for some reason. sarah was also fine she mainly suffered from weak writing. jane was ok at first but she progressively pissed me off...

- ttg has a problem with giving determinate characters really...Any development at all which is a shame but is unfortunately a byproduct of having a budget and a deadline. if you dont know if a character will be around or not, its not wise to spend time/resources on them when it can go towards characters you know Will be around. they handle this better in s4 by saving determinate routes for the final ep. a bit underwhelming to save it for the end but at least they used it to focus on determinant endings instead in s4. its hard so i try to cut game studios a little slack with that stuff. but unfortunately it made nick and sarah pretty underwhelming characters who lacked really any arc or relevancy at all...

favorite ending:

- wellington ending i GUESS??? ive chosen all of them at least once (except for clem alone ending just because i dont want her to have to be on her own with a newborn baby at 11 years old). honestly the choice at the end of s2 is a little difficult for me to make but usually comes down to the fact that jane risked ajs life to prove a point we already knew. which was that kenny was a man on the edge holding on by the universes thinnest thread. i cant trust jane to put clem first and by her flashback scene in s3 i was right not to trust her lol. i do love that aj tattoo clem gets from the jane route tho...ive literally chosen that ending Just for the tattoo before lol

- also the wellington ending keeps clem from hugging or kissing gabe SHDSHHSJ so that really seals the deal for me lmaooooooo youre too good for him bby

play out differently?:

- honestly not..really?? but thats mainly because i dont think or care enough about s2 to think up whole other plotlines...

- someone in the stream chat mentioned that s2 went through rewrites after some scripts/episodes got leaked or something which ALWAYS IS A BAD DECISION and makes me so so disappointed and frustrated. it always negatively impacts a story to put it through rewrites just to counter "spoilers". so i definitely think s2 suffered from that decision. the question is just how much did they rewrite? was s2 always weak or did it mainly suffer due to unnecessary rewrites? what a shame.

- the kenny/luke showdown wouldve had more of a natural buildup than the kenny/jane showdown did. and the arvo stuff was soooooo duuuumbbb and annoying. someone in chat made the point that it wouldve been more interesting if the group that attacks them was the 400 days crew looking for revenge from howes and i definitely agree!! wouldve given that group more relevancy instead of just seeing them as like little easter eggs....

- sarah also had a lot of wasted potential. im assuming they were trying to make some "shes how clem would be if lee never taught her to defend herself" point but i dont agree with it?? because clem was already protecting herself in her treehouse with that hammer before lee even found her. they just didnt know how to handle a character with anxiety very well and it shows. at least they do a better job with brody in s4 (i love brody 💕). they also try to pull another weird character foil "this is how clem would be if she was brainwashed" with minnie in s4 but i dont agree with that one either (clem would be the sophie who dies fighting in that scenario lets be honest with ourselves clem could never be brainwashed shes too smart and strong willed "you gave up minerva. i never will")(they needed to stop with the character foils because they even tried to pull it with FUCKING C A R VE R “we’re not so different” sir im 11)

OK I THINK thats all i have to say. im sure i made other points throughout the stream but yeah these are the ones that stand out to me enough to talk about here

[spidermanifested]

Give me your SOFTEST Bido headcanons. Can involve Greed too

uhhhhhhhhhhh fuck. soft. unfortunately most of my Soft bido thoughts are less in the realm of headcanon and more in the realm of wishful thinking because unfortunately i dont think many of the things i want to happen...... did actually happen. to my despair and chagrin

but. some nice little headcanons..... okay this might be long here is a readmore for everyones health

okay. well. i headcanon him as mostly surviving as a beggar and pickpocket in the days before the labs and after getting out he is still not immune to a little casual theft. mostly food, sometimes money and small objects-- he COULD get food at the bar but hes mostly out and about and its easier to just snag something from the market square while hes on the go yknow. but when it comes to non-food things, he rarely keeps them for himself. he brings them right back to greed along with his daily reports

he very much enjoys physical contact, partially just because. Warm. but mostly because it steadies him and reminds him hes a real person who other real people can protect and care about, like...... he wants to Be Hold so so bad. unfortunately a lot of the nest has the exact opposite response to touch, they shy away from it and need their personal space, which is an understandable response to All That but this means he does not get nearly as many hugs as he needs (and he wont exactly ask for it either because hes so bad at asking for things). thats more of a sad than a "soft" headcanon but. what im saying is hes overjoyed whenever greed pats his head. he Lives for that

he is best friends with one of the bouncers because they are both trans and i decided this for basically no reason but im sticking to my guns

had another thing i was so pumped to talk about but i FORGET and im AAAAAAAAA

he gets along very well with ulchi for some inexplicable reason. ulchi basically decided they were friends and bido went along with it and now they are in fact friends. perhaps with benefits. bido might have a type

this...........is SOLELY an 03 bido headcanon but you know that scene where bidos on the phone with greed and he sounds absolutely delighted to be talking to greed on the phone. like in his head hes sprawled out on the floor twirling the cord in his finger and kicking his legs back and forth you can hear it in his voice. anyways whenever the first time was that he used a phone to call greed-- and it may very well have been That Time-- it was also the first time hed used a phone since being in a government lab for 20 years, he was holding it extremely carefully right up to his face and when he heard greeds voice come out of it so close to his ear he just started giggling for like a solid 3 minutes. and going "hello??" and then starting giggling again like. he could not handle it. ill never forgive 03 for completely erasing the blushing at greed scene but it let me imagine this and for that ill cut it a tiny bit of slack

was the blushing at greed scene the thing i wanted to talk about i dont remember. anyways i headcanon that bido gets all blushy and smiley when greed compliments h-- oh wait thats canon isnt it! whoops! and on multiple separate occasions no less. silly me how could i forget

OH WAIT NO the thing i wanted to talk about was something similar-- i think ive seen it talked about before or it might have been me talking about it before i dont remember but. the juxtaposition of bido taunting the elric brothers going "im cool/amazing/(whatever the translation you want to go with)" and then immediately cutting to greed telling bido hes amazing. thats where hes getting his self esteem from, this isnt a one-time thing, bidos normally extremely hard on himself but because greed and the others have been working on boosting his ego he can now have those moments where he considers himself COOL and AWESOME because of his abilities. and yeah maybe he does only believe it because those abilities are helpful to the gang and he doesnt consider himself to actually be all that special without them but. theyre working on it! together! one step at a time!!! if only they actually had that time and everything didnt come crashing down

finally: he learned to play the piano after coming to the bar, he figured it would be good for figuring out his sticky pads but then kept teaching himself because hes got a real knack for music and he was having so much fun with it. sometimes he plays for the rest of the nest too and they all enjoy the music together

tumblr please dont erase parts of this response thanks

[lesbolieeh]

The Notebook

Best friend!Jeon Somi ✦ Crush!Fem!Reader

WC—3.1 ✦ k

WARNING—anxiety ✦ titles/ pet names

THEMES—light angst ✦ best friend au ✦ crush au ✦ future fluff (?)

NOW PLAYING—DUMB DUMB ✦ SOMI

[A/N.] i’m rly sorry for being away for so long but the news abt soojin has taken the fun out of kpop for me. i’m still trying to process it but for now i’ll just rewrite old fics from my wp and post them so i don’t leave u guys w/o queer content!

언니 (unnie) = older sister

M.LISTS—f!idols ✦ latest updates

All rights reserved © lesbolieeh

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Today was one of those bad fucking days.

One of those days when you can't find any positivity in anything.

One of those days when you don't feel like talking to the people you love the most.

One of those days when you just want to give up.

The first thing you saw in the morning was a the notification of a text from your girlfriend.

Looking at the white speech bubble is something you usually look forward to when you see Sakura's name bright up your screen, knowing she always has something entertaining to tell.

But this particular morning she said something you wish were a joke.

BabyKura

[ive been thinking lately and i think we need a break ___]

My gf🤠💦

[You're not going to tell me why?]

Seen 10:17

You asked her the first thing that came to your mind.

She couldn't possibly just expect you to be OK with having a break without a reason, right?

After an hour you accepted the fact that she had left you on read and that she wasn't going to reply anytime soon.

Maybe it was because she called you ___.

She never called her by your name.

Only your friends called you that.

She was supposed to call you weird or cheesy pet names and nothing else!

Maybe it was because you had noticed that she'd gotten distant.

But that didn't matter, because she left you with no answers.

She left you with a headache.

She left you with your bad thoughts and theories.

Damn you, Sakura.

It was very human-like of you to be in a bad mood.

Only a robot would feel nothing in this situation.

The day couldn't get any worse. You were going to make sure of it! Your mood may have been bad, but you weren't going to let anyone else get affected by it. Lashing out on innocent people because you don't feel good on the inside is something you hated doing.

Today you were going to hang out with your best friend, Somi, at a nice secluded area by the nearest river. You had planned out a picnic with the classic blanket and basket consisting of your favorite foods and snacks that were small enough to actually fit into the small ass (but cute) basket. For a whole week you hadn't met up and you both missed each other and wanted to make up for the days you had spent apart so of course you went for the nice, cliché picnic hang out session.

But no.

You weren't going to meet her and ruin her parade with the rain cloud that was following you around wherever you went since the morning.

No, you weren't going to let the first time you meet in such a long time be ruined by the sad but somewhat expected news you got this ugly morning.

언니 ❤️

[I can't hang out today, sorry]

Princess Somi

[why not?☹️]

언니 ❤️

[I'm not feeling too well]

Princess Somi

[it's ok i'll get some soup for u😊]

언니 ❤️

[No, you don't need to, I don't want you to get sick!]

Princess Somi

[but ive missed u sm☹️]

언니 ❤️

[We'll meet another day I promise to make up for this!]

And so you put the phone gently on the table (lol) to lay on the sofa and binge watch some random show. You made sure to turn your phone off first since you knew you'd cut Sakura some slack in case you read any persuasive text from her — she's good with words and making you feel loved.

Whilst you were looking through all the lists Netflix had created for you, which were filled with movies and series you either had already seen or weren't interested in, Somi was still expectantly waiting for her screen to go bright.

She must be joking, she thought.

Excitement had filled her body from the moment she opened her eyes this morning. You hadn't hung out for a whole week and she had missed you. Spending time with you was one of her favorite hobbies!

Needless to say, she liked you a little more than a best friend should and that was a bit of a problem.

For so long she'd known that it was a bad idea to like you. You didn't like her in the same way, and you even had a girlfriend for pete's sake — and a really pretty one at that! But no matter how many red flags there were, she still wanted to spend every day with you. She wanted to be the only one you called Princess. She wanted to be the main person you spent your time on. She wanted your attention to be on her. She didn't want a week to go by without being with you.

Wondering why you called Somi Princess when you already were in a relationship?

Well, Princess had been Somi’s nickname before you even met Sakura (yes, you'd known Somi longer than you'd known Sakura, yet you still found yourself in a relationship with gher). And though your girlfriend never liked it, you had convinced her it was just a friendly pet name.

Because it was.

To you.

To Somi it the closest she'd ever feel to being your girlfriend.

But you started using that pet name less ever since Sakura came around and ruined everything more than it already was ruined.

She loathed Sakura.

Sakura was always the reason why you couldn't hang out with your bestfriend for too long, why you couldn't call him Princess on certain occasions and why you couldn't look at her as a potential girlfriend.

Sakura was an attention thief.

Not really.

But it felt like it.

Somi was jealous of everything Sakura had with you.

Because your girlfriend obviously was a threat, Somi felt like she needed even more validation than before (which was already a lot). She needed your attention. If you ignored her she'd think it was your way of telling her that you had left her completely for Sakura.

Ridiculous!

She shouldn't feel like you owe attention to her.

Again, your friendly (fucking) friendship was the closest thing Somi had to being together with you in the way she really wanted, thus she valued it a lot. Not having you as her girlfriend was hurtful enough, but not having you as even her friend would break her.

Like normal, she needed your validation.

Unlike normal, she wasn't getting it.

You weren't validating your time together, nor your friendship — or at least it felt like it.

Emotional Somi’s smile dropped and so did her excitement for the day.

Was this the end?

She knew that spending one week without each other would lead to more time for you to spend with your damn girlfriend but she didn't know it would lead to the end of your friendship.

No way she'd bail on our plans.

Princess Somi

[can i pls come over? the food will b bad tmw and i dont want it to go to waste😬]

Princess Somi

[idc if i get sick or not bc i still wanna hang out w u]

Princess Somi

[pls 언니]

Sent 11:33

You had ignored her only once before and it was a horrible experience.

The way you ignored her (on accident) was so painful that she had to leave the gathering that she had looked forward to for so long, confusing the others, to go and lock herself in a bathroom so she could cry without bothering anyone. You'd gone right after him since you knew it wasn't very Somi-like to leave a fun time for no reason. After you had knocked and reassured her you were her best friend and not someone there to make fun of her, she let you in.

The sight you were met by was her crumbling figure on the floor and overflowing tears on her cheeks.

She had thought that you wanted nothing to do with her.

Stupid you didn't see the obvious sign.

It was because of the fact that you hadn't paid any attention to her that Somi'd gotten the idea that you had grown bored of her or that you wanted to leave her for Sakura (but she didn't tell you the latter part, of course).

How much your lack of attention and affection for her had affected her was scary.

And a fucking sign, you idiot.

Ever since that incident you'd made sure to always remind her of how much you valued your friendship.

Except for today.

She thought she had made it clear enough to you that you never ever should ignore her unless you really meant it. Unless you really wanted them to part ways.

Therefore she thought that you wanted to go from the bestest friends to cold acquaintances.

Some people might think it's crazy to be this attached to a best friend but you weren't just her best friend. You were her love and happiness.

Without you she didn't have either.

Five minutes passed since she triple texted you and she still had no reply.

Slowly she felt how her tummy was turning into knots and how her eyes started stinging.

Princess Somi

[ur making me worried]

Princess Somi

[hey!!]

Princess Somi

[r u ignoring me?☹️]

Princess Somi

[unless u have corona, meet me by the river at 7 if u care abt me. i need to talk to u abt smth important]

Sent 12:00

If you didn't show up then she knew for sure that you had left her behind forever. If you did show up then she'd confess to you. So spontaneous. She couldn't keep her feelings inside for another year because it wasn't healthy and she knew it. She knew she would have to tell you about her feelings sooner or later. And after being without you for a whole ass week and after experiencing the cruel punishment that is being ignored and even thinking you broke your dear friendship off, she knew the time had come for her to confess.

Whilst she was anxiously thinking through why she made such a bold move and possibly ruined any future she had with you, the girl she loved was casually being lazy and stuffing her face in pillows in front of a TV.

two seasons of random show later...

Tossed between blankets and an overflow of pillows, you roared like a lion. You hadn't eaten anything yet. Maybe it was time to do something other than numbing your feelings with Netflix and the drinks (soda if you're underage) you had at home?

As you stood up you felt heavy. You had moved maximum 50 meters in the past few hours — to go to the bathroom and back to the living room — and it had taken a toll on your body physically.

Fuck.

You sat back down on your sofa and brought your phone to view after hours without it.

[6 new messages from Princess Somi]

Fuck.

The last message was sent so long ago.

You looked at your windows. It was dark outside.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

As fast as you physically could, you put on a pair of shoes and a jacket with your aching limbs.

In just a few minutes you were behind the steering wheel and driving as fast as you were legally allowed to. Because of the quarantine the roads were almost empty and that made it thankfully more convenient for you to get by.

The whole ride to the river was filled with you thoughts putting you down. Your favorite person in the world was emotional and you knew it. You hurt her. You let her down. You were supposed to not let your bad mood affect anybody around you. But who were you kidding? Of course something had to go wrong with an idea you constructed and analyzed for four microseconds.

Before you knew it you had arrived to the destination.

But to your fear, the parking lot was empty.

Fucking empty.

You didn't even feel the pain in your legs anymore, the pain in your heart had taken over any feelings you had before.

Were you too late?

Had she gone?

It wouldn't be shocking, it was past midnight after all.

You were naive enough to think that isolating yourself from your bestfriend [who didn't have corona] and your phone would help solving your problems, so you were certainly naive enough to go and check if Somi was still at your meeting place although there was no trace of her here.

Every step towards the place you were supposed to meet at hours ago was tough.

What if she wasn't there?

What if she was there?

On a bench by the water that was shimmering from the moonlight was a thin, tall silhouette. Your eyes widened. Could it be...?

Sniffles.

That's the sound that came from their direction.

You walked closer and could make out the lines of a figure that was all too familiar.

"Princess?"

The silhouette turned around and though it was dark you could see that it in fact was her. You quickly sat down beside her and noticed that a couple of notebooks were scattered on the ground next to a bike.

So that's how she got here.

After another particularly loud sniffle you turned your attention back to her. The light of the moon was illuminating her figure but exposed the redness and tears on her face. For hours she'd been outside and her face was still wet with tears.

"Why are you still out at this hour?"

She choked on her tears and rested her face in her hands, "Because I'm a fool."

"No, you're not a—"

"Why are you here?" she interrupted you.

Touché.

"You told me to meet you if I care about you."

"You weren't here at seven, so you already proved that you don't care about me," she hurried out before her voice could crack.

"If I didn't care about you I wouldn't show up at all," you spoke with a soft tone. The last thing you wanted was to be harsh, especially since you were the reason your bestfriend was upset.

"Why did you do this to me, 언니?" she asked and looked you in the eyes as if she'd find any answers inside them.

"I promise I didn't do it on purpose. I would never hurt you on purpose," you took her hands into yours, oblivious to what the simple gesture did to Somi on the inside.

Her hands were so cold it was shocking that she was shaking because of her crying and not because of the ice-like coldness. That's what happens when you're out for hours when there's no sun — or person — to keep you warm.

"I saw the messages 20 minutes ago and got here immediately. I would never purposely ignore you, Princess."

You made sure to use her nickname in almost every sentence you spoke, silently telling her that you don't want to fight. Slowly you brought her hands to your lips and kissed them lightly, five kisses on each hand for every finger. She looked at your lovely action and felt how her tears were slowing down. The kisses didn't make her warm — maybe for a second — but at least they made her feel somewhat better inside.

"I'm so, so sorry you had to be here in the cold," you apologized and kept her hands in yours as an attempt to warm them.

One part of Somi wanted to continue being mad and make you feel bad for the hurt you'd caused he, but the bigger part wanted you to hold her in your arms. She loved you and couldn't stay mad at you for long even if she tried.

"I-It's OK, 언니. At least you're here now," she whispered and looked at your locked hands, admiring the sight since it may never happen again — or maybe she should make sure her hands are cold—

You sent her a sorrowful smile and let her head rest on your shoulder, resting your own against it as an instinct both from being comfortable and tired.

"From now on I will check if I have any texts every hour for you," you said with an exaggerated joking voice to lighten the mood.

She giggled. You weren't even being that funny but you were both tired and sad, so anything even a tiny bit funny was hilarious to both of you.

"What did you want to tell me before, Princess?" you whispered into her fluffy hair and petted it.

Should she tell you how she feels? Should she possibly ruin this?

Would you ever kiss her hands like you did just now? Would you ever touch her this caringly ever again? Would you continue to call her Princess?

For hours she'd been outside in the cold waiting for the love of her life so she could tell her the truth. But it took time before you, the love of her life, showed up.

When a person is alone outside with notebooks filled with blank pages to write feelings and stories in, it's easy to let emotions take over. She ended up writing around seven songs. Some lyrics were really cheesy and written in the spirit of the moment. Some lyrics didn't even rhyme. Some were a perfect description of where she was in her non-existing love life.

But they all had one thing in common.

They were melancholic and written in the point of view of a woman who was hopelessly in love with her bestfriend.

"Nothing. I just wanted to have a picnic with you, 언니. I was just being dramatic to convince you to come despite feeling under the weather," she lied right through her teeth.

You chuckled lightly, believing her immediately.

"Then where are the snacks?" you asked, confused since the only things around you were notebooks, a bike and water.

"I ate them."

Laughter filled the air; your genuine one and her fake one.

You put your face in her cheek, making her blush (not that you'd notice, since her tears had made her red from before), "Well, my tummy is a lil' too thin right now, so let's go somewhere."

"In the middle of the night?" she questioned.

"Yes," you smiled against his cheek and she felt it, making her smile too.

"OK."

You both were still smiling when you were picking up all the notebooks to get ready for the ride. Jokes were thrown here and there. It was as if nothing had happened. You both knew it was a misunderstanding and you valued the friendship with the other too much to put energy into arguing. And you were tired too, so the argument wouldn't even be that epic even if you tried.

"Wait! We can't leave your bike," you exclaimed suddenly at the realization.

How is it so that when you're tired and alone you're just lazy but when you're tired and with your best friend you're more energetic than usual?

"You know what? Since I was a jerk I'll let you drive my warm car while I ride in the cold," you said impulsively and tossed her your keys.

"B-But, 언니—"

"By now you should know not to try and go against what I say," you interrupted her and sat down on the bike. Anyone who had spoken to you knew you were stubborn.

She laughed. The little sadness she had inside was gone by now. Her cheeks were dry. Still red, but not from crying, now they were red from blushing.

"OK, whatever you say, 언니."

"I warn you, don't break my car or else I'll break you, Princess," you said teasingly.

"I would never~ See you in an hour, 언니," she winked at you and waved with a smile brighter than the moon before making her way to your car.

You waved back to her and got ready to bike — you definitely needed a head start.

But before you started you couldn't help but see something white standing out in the darkness.

It was another one of Somi’s notebooks. You must've been too tired to notice it when you were picking them up. Thankfully the notebook was open or else you wouldn't have noticed it as it had a dark cover. You took it into your hands. To make sure it really was Somi’s you needed to read at least a snippet.

You prayed it was Somi’s because it would worse if you read a stranger's private thoughts than your bestfriend's since you already knew all her secrets.

The snippet was Somi’s.

It was from one of the pages of lyrics that barely rhyme, that was very cheesy but depicted how sappy she was feeling and also told her part of the story of the situation.

I want to feel my best friend's lips on my lips

I want, more than anything, for her to call me HER Princess

So that's what she wanted to tell you.

✦ ੈ ✦ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✦‧₊˚＊* ੈ ✦ ‧₊˚ * ੈ ✦‧₊˚＊* ✦ ੈ ✦

❝ 난 네 머리 꼭대기에서 춤춰 you dumb, dumb 영혼까지 끌어 떠는 내숭 결국 이게 다 널 위한거야 Dumb, dumb, dumb 순수한 내 눈빛보고 잔머리 굴리지말고 Let's play, dumb, dumb, dumb ❞

( I'm dancing on top of your head, you dumb, dumb Trying my best to put up a front to impress you At the end, it's all for you Dumb, dumb, dumb When you look into my eyes, don't think too much Let's play dumb, dumb, dumb )

—jeon somi; 2021

[slightly-gay-pogohammer]

Let's go with a simple one for the meme and say Sora from Kingdom Hearts.

send me a baby

favorite thing about them: oh my god baby ray of sunshine who did nothing wrong in his life, ever, and deserves all the friends and love he gets.  his genuine friendliness and optimism despite everything he went through is just. it’s just [chef hand kiss]

least favorite thing about them: i. can’t stand him for 2/3 of CoM tbh asdnfmsag. like i have my FAIR SHARE OF ISSUES with CoM in general when it comes to characterizations and of course he was under namine’s influence but if i don’t cut some slack to KH1 riku i’m allowed to do it to CoM sora too. like stop being moody for 2 seconds kiddo

favorite line: emotionally speaking?  “Kairi, remember what you said before? I’m always with you too. I’ll come back to you, I promise.” ...but also his delivery when he goes like “WOW I SURE AM GLAD THE SNOW IS SOFT AFTER WE FELL FROM THE MOUNTAIN A THIRD TIME” in arendelle killed me

brOTP: soriku and sora/donald/goofy. best bros and best son/dads

OTP: listen ive been shipping sokai with all my heart since 2001 and im not going to stop doing it anytime soon. i’m just happy theyre superconfirmed canon

nOTP: romantic soriku :V

random headcanon: when he says he cant computer, he MEANS it. he never had a videogame in his life and the few times riku and kairi let him play with their consoles he got bored after losing the 28934th time

unpopular opinion: KH1 sora best sora i’m sorry i don’t make the rules

song i associate with them: the Destiny Island theme - either one, really, even if I lean more on the KH1 one. they both fit him perfectly

favorite picture of them: dont mind me im still crying over this scene

[wonderfulworldofmichaelford]

Michael in the Mainstream: Pokemon Generation I & II

Pokemon is one of the biggest media franchises on the planet since 1996, and while it’s never exactly hit the same highs as it did back in the 90s, the franchise has been going strong for over two decades regardless. So, in honor of the latest entries in the franchise, I decided to take a look back at the old generations and look at what worked and what didn’t about them, though obviously in my own style. And what better place to start than the original two generations, Generations I and II?

Let’s start with Generation I, which includes the three games that started it all – Red, Blue, and Yellow, though back in the franchise’s homeland of Japan they had Green instead of Blue (hence why we got FireRed and LeafGreen, but no WaterBlue). These are the games that launched the franchise into the stratosphere of popularity, and for a long time they were held up as the gold standard of Pokemon games, attracting a die-hard base of “fans” known as Genwunners, who would bash anything outside of the first 151 Pokemon. Lately that sort of opinion has declined, though you still get the odd person here and there whining about how newer Pokemon designs look like Digimon, which indicates that the person saying that is unfamiliar with either franchise.

But what of the games themselves? What are they like? I have long expressed distaste for the Gen I games, mostly because of my hatred of Genwunners, but ultimately my opinions on the games are a lot more mixed. I do believe that Yellow is a genuinely good game and probably how the first generation should be experienced if you really want to go back to the old games, but my opinions on Red and Blue are a bit more mixed – but, shockingly, mostly positive.

You see, here’s the thing with Pokemon games – even at their worst, they’re still fun, and Red and Blue prove that. These are impressive games for their time that had the misfortune of aging far worse than a lot of their contemporaries, mostly due to the nature of the games themselves – any sort of franchise based on collecting and battling among groups of friends is going to need a lot of polish between releases, which will inevitably leave older games in the dust, especially when each generation after would add more and more Pokemon with each new generation. But even if they haven’t aged all too well, there’s still plenty of fun to be had here, though a lot of it is not in ways the creators intended.

Let’s get the bad stuff out of the way first – the balance in this game is absolutely atrocious. There are some types that are just objectively better than others, some types are so scarce as to be utterly useless, some moves don’t work like they’re supposed to, some of the computers use moves they shouldn’t know… the game is a hot mess, to put it lightly. At points the games feel frustratingly unplayable, especially when you come up against Sabrina, the gym leader wielding the all-powerful type of Gen I, Psychic.

The more mixed parts of the game are the story and the beloved, exploitable glitches. The story here… well, there isn’t one. There’s sort of an excuse plot in place - you have to beat all the gyms, challenge the Elite Four, and battle your rival (who you can name whatever, but I’ll be referring to him by his canon name, Blue). Other than that, though? There’s not really any sort of overarching plot. You kind of just wander into situation after situation on your way to the next gym. Even the whole Team Rocket plot here is mostly just you beating them up because they prove to slightly inconvenience you at every turn. Unlike in later entries, where the player is roped into saving the world from destruction at the hands of all-powerful PokeGods. Here the plot is basically “Young boy accidentally foils the Mafia while on a walk with their pet.” It’s so hilariously simple it’s hard to totally hate it, and to be perfectly fair a lot of early RPGs had rather simplistic plots, and this was one of the first handheld RPGs, so I cut them a bit of slack here, especially seeing as we at least got Giovanni out of this.

The glitches are infamous and iconic, but even them I’m a bit mixed on. Like, I love Missingno as much as everyone else, but I think tat if you need to break a game this hard to have fun, it kind of ruins things. I feel the same way about the glitches as I do the Crissaegrim in Symphony of the Night sure, they’re cool, flashy, and powerful, but they make the game so pathetically easy from that point onwards it just isn’t that entertaining anymore.

Still, this game does excel in one area: character. There are a lot of great characters in this game, human and Pokemon. A lot of the gym leaders are absolutely iconic, and the Elite Four is mostly interesting, though I will say that they lack a lot of character compared to later Elite Fours (though he Gen III remakes ameliorated this problem). It’s pretty impressive how so much character was able to be crammed into these characters even though they are ostensibly just roadblocks on your way to the next gym.

Then there are the Pokemon. The designs in this generation are pretty simple, occasionally to a fault, but there is a reason for this: a lot of Pokemon are based on yokai or tsukumogami, both of which are pretty essential in Japanese folklore. Tsukumogami in particular are something the franchise seems to absolutely love, with the Voltorb and Magnemite lines being notable examples from this generation. Other Japanese folklore represented in this Generation include kitsune, which the Vulpix line is explicitly based on, kappas, which Golduck is inspired by, baku, which the Drowzee line represents, and so in. In fact, the entire concept of Pokemon is so entrenched in the concepts of yokai and Japanese spirits that it is endlessly amusing to see Westerners nitpicking the designs, ignoring the cultural meaning behind them. Pokemon have a variety of inspirations obviously, but the weirder you think a design is the more likely it is to have been based off of some sort of yokai.

I think the definitive Gen I experience is Yellow, which is inspired by the anime. You start off with Pikachu who follows behind you at all times, you can acquire all of the starters, the game overall feels more polished (but not overly so), and you get to fight Jessie and James. It’s a lot of fun, and it doesn’t heavily alter the story, instead adding a few neat little additions, something that would become common with third versions in the franchise. The Kanto games are a solid start to a franchise, but they definitely could have used a bit more work…

That’s where Generation II comes in.

Generation II honestly feels like what Generation I should have been like, leaving Red and Blue as the unpolished alpha, Yellow as the beta, and Gold and Silver as the full release. In fact, it kind of leaves the  second gen feeling a lot more like an expansion pack than anything else, but not in an obnoxious or bad way like a certain other game (COUGHOverwatch 2COUGH). These games are so much better in just about every conceivable way, it’s not even funny.

A lot of important series mainstays made their debut here. The biggest and best is probably the introduction of the Dark and Steel types, the latter of which really feels like it should have been in Generation 1 to begin with. Steel quickly established itself as a very defensive type, and Pokemon of that type are just naturally tough due to Steel resisting nearly every other type in the game, with it only being nerfed slightly once the games jumped to 3D. Dark on the other hand was extremely cool in concept, but a lot of the Pokemon of the type were not able to properly utilize their impressive movepools due to Dark being classified as a Special type and a lot of early Dark-types running with high physical stats.

Let me clarify real quick: prior to Generation IV, the type of the move determined whether it ran off of Physical or Special Attack, no matter how ludicrous it seemed. That means Dark moves like Bite and Fire moves like Blaze Kick ran off of the Special Attack stat despite almost always appearing on Pokemon that had much higher Physical Attack, leaving a lot of Dark-types in the dust until the Sinnoh games rolled along and balanced things. Still, this bump in usability did not stop Dark-types from being popular and beloved, with Pokemon like Umbreon, Sneasel, and Houndoom all debuting here in the land of Johto.

Speaking of new Pokemon, fewer were added this time around, only about 100, sort of fitting in with this game feeling like an expansion pack. A lot of the new Pokemon are odd and gimmicky, with strange creatures like Unown, Delibird, and Shuckle making their debut here, as well as the almighty Dunsparce. While time would be kind to some of these (Dunsparce and Shuckle in particular have gained niche uses and cult fandoms), other gimmicky Pokemon got left in the dust. Still, I do think having weird, gimmicky Pokemon adds some flavor to the world. If there’s one thing I am upset about, it’s some of the Pokemon that were cut from the game, revealed to the world in the prototype version of Gold and Silver that leaked online. We almst got a new Shellder evo that looked like Slowbro’s tail, as well as Pokemon like Lickilicky debuting two generations earlier (and with a far better design). Still, what we got is pretty impressive, and though I find Johto a tad bit vanilla, there are a lot of Pokemon I love in this generation.

Another great addition to the franchise is lore behind the Legendary Pokemon. Gen I did have a bit of lore in regards to Mew and Mewtwo if you chose to read all of the journals in Cinnabar Mansion, but the bird trio got nothing and sort of just felt like random bonus bosses than Pokemon really deserving the title of legends. In this game, every legend introduced feels legendary. Entei, Raikou, Suicune, Ho-Oh, and Lugia all have fascinating lore behind them, and while they don’t play a major part in the story or factor in to Team Rocket’s plans (save for Suicune in Crystal, who has its own subplot), it showed that even this early on they were working on making the legendaries feel bigger and more impressive to the point they deserved their title as legends.

Then of course there are the new additions to gameplay and collecting that helped really make the franchise shine. The introduction of held items is one of the most significant; now there were even more ways to improve your standing in a battle! Give your mon a berry, they’ll eat it when their health gets low! This feature would be expanded on in later games, but its start here introduced a whole new world of possibilities. There was also the splitting of the Special stat into Special Attack and Special Defense a choice that helped balance the games and not completely overpower the Psychic type. And speaking of, Type distribution was quite a bit better in these games, though the new types Steel and Dark as well as Ghost and Dragon were still fairly underutilized and rare.

 Then there is the introduction of gender and breeding, which allowed players to get new Pokemon by leaving two Pokemon in the same egg group in a day care together. This not only allowed for the introduction of new baby Pokemon (which are largely useless and Pokedex filler if I’m being honest), but it gave the transforming blob of jello Ditto a new lease on life, as it could breed with absolutely ANYTHING, even some genderless Pokemon. Finally, we have the introduction of shiny Pokemon, Pokemon that had a different coloration than normal Pokemon and that almost surely existed to show off the power of the Game Boy Color. Back in Generation II, shinies were guaranteed to have perfect IVs of some sort or another to make their rarity more worthwhile, but this was scrapped after this gen. Still, there is nothing cooler than having that fabulous Pokemon with its incredible sparkle pop up while you’re roaming the wild, and nothing sadder than realizing you don’t have any balls to catch it.

The story here is also improved, which is a plus. A rarity for Pokemon games going forward, these games were true sequels to the originals, taking place a few years after the events of the Gen I games, and so the plot concerns the player getting roped in to not only stopping the remnants of Team Rocket trying to rise to power yet again, but also fighting off a mysterious rival named Silver, all while trying to complete the gym challenge. The stakes are a bit higher this time, but not overly so, and the plot definitely feels bigger and more important, with their being a sense of “I have to stop Team Rocket or something bad could happen” rather than “Ugh, these guys are blocking the way to the next gym, guess I better get rid of them.” And if that’s not enough, this has one of the more impressive post-games for the series… for its time. Much has been made of the late, great Satoru Iwata’s impressive cramming of the entirety of Kanto into the game, and you won’t hear me say that for the time these games came out what he did was impressive. 

The thing is, this accomplishment has aged about as well as the games the Kanto region debuted in. Gen II’s version of Kanto has a very poor level curve, meaning you can basically steamroll through most of the gyms, and a lot of areas are blocked off, gone, or cut down. While it is cool to see all these places two years after the original games, it’s not nearly as fun when you’re crushing underleveled Pokemon and you can’t access Cerulean Cave or the legendary birds. When you finally acquire all the badges though, you get to head to Mt. Silver and make your way up to one of the definitive bonus bosses of the franchise – Red, the player character of the original games. He’s a pretty tough opponent, and the game seems to lean towards making Yellow the true canon game as Red has all three starters plus Pikachu,

There’s not much else to say, as there isn’t too much negative to say about the Johto region or the games. The definitive version is, of course, Crystal, as it has a bit of extra story and polish to it and even let you play as a girl for the first time, and though there are aspects that the remakes of these games would improve on, the Generation II games are actually extremely solid and a lot of fun to play to this day, even if they haven’t yet achieved optimal balance for Pokemon. At the very least, they’re a lot more fun and playable than the Gen I games.

It’s pretty undeniable that the first two generations put Pokemon on a pretty solid path of progression and started the franchise off with a bang. There was really nowhere to go from here but up, and boy oh boy did they ever go up from here.

[letstalksymphogear]

Symphogear, EP. 4 (Cont)

The gremlin challenges Tsubasa, a Symphogear, whose entire shtick is to sing to channel power, to sing.

It dawns on her, however, that Tsubasa is part Greninja. Tsubasa used Shadow-Weaving! It’s super effective.

“tell me, you jellyfish looking weirdo...”

“hey- hey, time out. are you gonna do what i think you’re gonna do. this is gonna like, kill you. you know that, right? that you will literally die? you do understand you can just retreat now or- or just take hibiki away, right? i even told you that was the whole point of this... uh... oh shit.”

“ARE YOU READY TO JAM”

“tsubasa please i will literally lend you my remaining brain cell to stop you from this really stupid mistake”

Dad has entered the server.

“oh my god. oh my god. oh my god. oh my god. o- ryoko. stop breathing on me. this isnt helping my anxiety over my adopted daughter figure literally preparing to kill herself over my commands.”

“sorry babe its just the asthma, forgot my inhaler”

“i cannot FUCKING believe of ALL the opponents i had to fight i had to fight the DUMBEST one on the goddamn block, you idiot, you absolute dunce, RETHINK THIS”

“OH GOD SHE’S DOING IT! SHE’S DOING IT! THE ABSOLUTE MADWOMAN- FUCK- FUCK! GET ME OUT OF HERE! FUCK! FUCK!”

“just used up my last brain cell for this attack, pal. you’re through.”

“NAH, EAT ASS YOU- YOU GODDAMN MANIAC”

“HAHA YEAH, GOT YOU NOW, SLOW WALKING, DRAMA INDUCIN’, PURPLE RAIN CHANN-”

“OH GOD! YOU TELEPORTED! YOU’VE GOT SV_CHEATS SET TO 1, DON’T YOU! NOCLIPPING LIKE NOBODY’S BUSINESS GET OUT OF MY FACE”

“WHOA WHOA WHOA WHAT THE FUCK WHOA I KNOW I CRACKED SOME JOKES BUT WE LITERALLY JUST MET AND I- I GOTTA KNOW PEOPLE FIRST BEFORE THIS SHIT AND- OH GOD PLEASE STOP”

“OH GOD! THIS... RAW, GAY, REPRESSED ENERGY... IT’S... TOO STRONG...”

The gremlin could not begin to comprehend Tsubasa’s intense love for incredibly well-built redheaded women.

Hibiki can, though.

“SO......... MUCH........... SAUCE...................”

“.................................................”

The gremlin retreats after getting her licks. This scene subtly implied something; the Nehushtan armor she wears regenerates over time, which means no matter how much damage it sustains, it will always return in one piece. The same can’t be said for the user, though.

Hibiki runs to Tsubasa, checking if she’s okay, totally oblivious to the gravity of what just happened.

“i came just as i could and ive brought happy meals for everyone”

Genjuro asks if Tsubasa is okay.

I dunno man, this is a pretty tough judgement call here. I mean, is she okay? Pain is a pretty subjective experience, after all.

“oh my god i get it. i get the joke she implied. she wanted to jam. she’s jammed! cause it- it looks like jam! no, wait, its more like sauce...”

It dawns on Hibiki that people actually do die during this job.

Tsubasa, as it turns out, survived her Swan Song. It makes sense that she would because she was naturally receptive to her relic, Ame-No-Habakiri. Still, the injury comes with great gravity. She’s benched for the next season, and it’s likely she’s gonna miss the playoffs.

Stuck on a respirator on the edge of life, Tsubasa will probably look back at this and go, “Gosh, I was such a wild child. Haha. Almost dying and all.”

Hibiki wraps her single braincell around the idea of death. Most main characters aren’t familiar with the concept of death, you see, because most don’t die. But this is Season One Symphogear. Flirting with death is common.

Ogawa comes in to comfort her.

“dumbass had her opponent bound and the gremlin still escaped anyway”

Ogawa then explains shit we already know. Thanks, Ogawa.

“in summation: i get where you’re coming from, but stop fucking saying ‘im gonna replace kanade’, please, im begging you”

Hibiki FINALLY gets it, and naturally upon realizing, feels really bad for it. A real right and true asshole.

“oh thank god i was worried not even that was going to get to you”

Meanwhile, in Tsubasa’s mind...

“ah fuck me. im trapped in metaphor limbo. see, im falling because i clipped my wing, cause i nearly died, you know, like icarus and shit”

“hold up my gay senses are tingling”

Her senses confirmed. Kanade is in her mind, in probably the most romantic metaphor possible. There is absolutely no way to interpret all of this platonically.

Tsubasa is literally submerged in a sea of her own emotions...

Involving Kanade, and how she strives to be like her and honor her memory.

SHE LITERALLY DROWNS IN THOSE EMOTIONS, SUBMERGING DEEPER INTO THE WATER.

Tsubasa, in her Symphogear Brand Medical Cocoon for the Dumb and Beaten Down, quietly slumbers in her semi-comatose state as she wrestles the water metaphors of her own sexual identity.

The poor thing just misses her girlfriend.

Meanwhile, Hibiki sits and thinks more than usual. In a flashback, Genjuro muses about how The Gremlin wanted to kidnap Hibiki.

“i dunno maybe The Gremlin’s super lonely or shit”

“i mean if thats the case ill just adopt her too”

Since Tsubasa is away, Hibiki has to pick up the quota for teenage angst in the 2nd Division. Unfortunately, she has very big shoes to fill, but Hibiki isn’t one for slacking in the misery department. She blames herself for everything.

“im really going to fire the therapist we have around here for being pretty damn useless”

“can i be the therapist?”

“ryoko i am absolutely begging you to filter your bad ideas given the several teenage crises we’re dealing with right now”

Hibiki then yells out, for what is possibly the third time, out of the blue:

“I HAVE PEOPLE I WANT TO PROTECT”

The flashback ends.

And speaking of girlfriends.

“there is no force on this planet stopping me from having some quality fucking time with my girlfriend damnit”

Miku points out Hibiki has been pretty lonely. Says she heard it from a friend who, heard it from a friend who, heard it from another she was messin’ ‘round.

Unfortunately, Miku is a goddamned chad.

Immediate handholding. Make no mistake. Behind those soft-spoken eyes lies an absolute master.

“o-oh, my hand, you’re holding it, so smoothly”

“hibiki, you’re my sunshine. i want to soak up your rays so hard that every piece of flesh of my body is horribly mutilated from skin cancer.”

“jesus christ miku at least use sunscreen in your metaphors”

“ill use them just for you, hibiki. just for you.”

Their relationship is interesting. When one of them is sad, the other sorta acts as an angst vacuum. You’ll see them flip flop with their points of misery with each other, but when together, those problems always melt away.

Of course, emphasis on being together. Season 1 is the worst with keep them away from each other.

“Just Be Yourself!” Miku Kohinata, Symphogear, 2012.

“fuck me, you’re right. im the protagonist. i cant just eat shit here the whole time. i gotta do protagonist things!”

“was that an invitation?”

“another time. but now... let’s just catch up.”

And so, they laugh together about how the recorded footage of the meteor shower was all black. Truly the greatest couple of all time.

It is this realization of being her own self, coupled with her renewed gay energy, and new perspective on what she must do, that causes everything to go uphill for her from here. Take note.

Here is where a God is truly born.

Tachibana Hibiki.

The end of this episode cuts to a specific dojo.

Genjuro’s dojo.

“i dont fuck around with training, even though i probably should have trained you sooner. you sure about this?”

“dadman either you do this or i will most definitely die next time”

Part of their training involves watching action movies, because Genjuro is so unreal that he should frankly be a fictional character in the very universe he exists in.

Fucking adorable.

“im so conflicted its so clear she’s part of /fit/ now but i cant help but imagine her washboard abs”

Hibiki balls even harder at karaoke now, due to her Symphogear training, and not because she’s secretly Aoi Yuki playing a recolored version of Madoka.

Her significant other is mildly terrified at the superhuman that is slowly unfolding her powers before her eyes.

In the end, things all reach their logical conclusion.

Hibiki becomes a Tekken character, just like Genjuro.

Of course... Miku pushes the fact very subtly that she would never hide anything from Hibiki...

Turmoil brews in the worst way... soon...