#me being like 'lil guy got that weird sickness others get when they travel through space too much now he Sees Things. inconvenient.'

[sidereon-spaceace]

My homework for tonight: double-check the etymology of the name "Sibyl", cuz according to an initial search it used to refer to oracles

and I think it would be really funny to still inflict Visions And Omens on my Silly Big Weapon Guy. Literary predeterminate naming let's goooooooo

[yakultii]

Well, just a normal question. I don't want to bother haha

What would be the most awkward moment you've had when traveling (in your country or abroad?

hahaha this is such a good question !! … god knows there’s probably been so many but at the same time I’m such an awkward person in general to the point that I feel no shame about almost anything and it would be awkward for the other person to feel awkward bc it’s too far gone/I tend to make other ppl feel comfortable being their weird awkward selves around me or so I’ve been told !! I’ve communicated w so many diff ppl even when there has been a total language barrier and I’ve found that laughter overcomes just about any barrier even ones u wouldn’t expect :,) …now if we are gonna speak about moments that I cringe at a little looking back it would probably be when I coulda had me a Swiss gf by now but my brain was hella lagging and I was talking ab my ex fml I SAW the shift in her facial expressions and it was over LOLOL actually it wasn’t over cos she planned for us to meet up again like 9 months later in my city cos she was about to go home earlier than expected and I was too mentally ill to get outta bed and said I was sick and I think she thought I didn’t like her again but anyway turns out she was going home early to be admitted in the mental hospital for the next yr so maybe we had too much in common anyways miss her love her she’s so pretty hope she’s doin better …OR maybe my first time in Bali I got completely scammed and stalked except I knew it was happening before it happened but I almost always travel on my own so I was like ehhh oh well rite of passage and let them take my money lmao idiot :,) also not an awkward moment but a kinda funny moment was in jakarta this random old guy was like can I have ur shoes for my daughter and I was like yeah sure (cos I was going home the next day and I had just bought a cheap kmart pair before leaving aus) and so I literally took em off my feet and gave them to him in the middle of nowhere LMAO. OMG actually I just remembered a kinda awkward situation one time at airlie beach I was also on my own.. I had no card on me cos it was on my phone on Apple Pay, my phone had died like permanently because I got sand and water in it on an island and even the charger wouldn’t bring it back to life and it was night and I had to check in to a hotel within like the next 30 mins before they shut their office (it was like a hotel connected to the owners house) which I needed my phone for google maps cos I had no idea where it was and needed to pay them also and also had my plane ticket to go home the next day digitally on my phone, also hadn’t eaten all day and couldn’t buy food it was a disaster and I was running up literal hills to find this hotel and asking random people on the street and almost in tears and out of breathe and I finally got there like 2 mins before closing time and I had to like convince the owners to let me stay there overnight and let me pay in the morning bc my phone was broken and they were kinda cranky about it and by some miracle my phone turned on at like 2% and wouldn’t charge anymore the next morning but I was up and awake super early like 5am bc I was so hungry so I thought I’d go get breakfast and then come back before I checked out and then on my way to breakfast I ran into the owner of the hotel and it looked like I was scamming them omg

omg this also made me think of on that same trip to Airlie beach I was literally walking for a few km back to my accomm one night cos it was on the outskirts of town and it was in the dark already and my phone had died (this was before it fully broke it was just flat or maybe I just had no reception I don’t remember) I suck at directions and can never retrace my steps and I was just vibing and I thought I had to walk through these rich ass houses and ppl were driving out for a night out so the gate had just opened so I walked right in… uhhh turns out it was like a lil gated community type vibe which was a dead end.. so I turn around and the gate is fully automated locked up behind me like the highest fence like 3X my height with all those spikes on top of it..like noone was around to ask to open it and it was pitch black and I was on my own I was like fuck I’m not getting out of here but luckily I’m literally a ninja and somehow managed to climb up over the fence with all the security cameras looking at me I was like omg I’m gonna be on the news it looked so suss hahahahagot stabbed a lil bit but mostly it was overruled by relief and I jogged the rest of the way home literally through the bush land bro it was a scary time AHAHA …but not as scary as when I was stuck 5kms out in open sand dunes in a thunder lightening storm or on the edge of a muddy cliff in a rainforest inside a mini bus as we had to use human balance to get one person out at a time before the bus slipped down lmao ..ok none of these were awkward but I had to think cos I don’t remember nothing ever im sure some much crazier shit has occurred idek what I’ve done in this life actually I’m starting to remember many things I have so many travel stories none rlly awkward tho that’s just not a concept for me :,)

[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.

[savethelastdan]

Yashahime Is Over Party: Contribution #2

“All right, all right!” 

The crowd of villagers quieted (some with a wince) as the high-pitched shout rang around the village entrance. Ten-year-old Moroha gave them one last warning glare for good measure. 

With, as her Great-Grandpa on the other side of the Well would say, “more gusto than should be necessary”, she then leapt upon the nearest height-offering surface - one of the tourists’ suitcases, emblazoned a dozen times on every side with “FRAGILE” - and began her welcome speech. 

“Shut your mouths and hold onto your butts, folks, because this is a real treat! The coolest village ever to exist in any timeline, on a sunny day! Since my big brother is at kitsune academy today, you all have the honor of yours truly acting as escort around this prime piece of feudal real estate!” 

Dramatic pause for emphasis. (Yes, she’d taken some liberties with the script that Shippo had left, and she didn’t quite know what ‘prime piece of real estate’ actually meant, but her cousin Towa agreed that it sounded fancy and fancy always worked with humans.) 

A soft-faced young woman glanced around the crowd self-consciously before raising a hand. “You mean, this is the village where priestess Kikyo - “

“Ahem!” Moroha held up the wooden sign hanging from her neck, tapping the carved-in letters spelling ‘Village Tour Guide #2” with one nail. “Are you wearin’ the sign?”

“Oh. Uh, sorry.” The woman blushed. 

After a moment, Moroha cleared her throat. “Okay, yeah, it is. But there’s a bunch of other super-cool people here, too! If you wanna meet them - follow me!” With that, she jumped from the suitcase to land solidly in the dirt. A few tourists reared back from the cloud of disturbed dust, putting them at the back of the moving crowd. 

“First up, the sister of the blah-dee-blah-famed-priestess-blah-dee-blah Kikyo - Lady Kaedeeeeee!” She swung both arms in a dramatic half-circle towards the healer woman’s hut; the crowd ooh-ed and ah-ed appropriately. “On days like these, she’s either healing a sick patient, birthin’ a new baby, or taking a long nap! Since she’s awfully old, the napping’s more frequent.” Hooking an arm around a teenage tourist’s shoulder, she hissed in a spooky tone, “Some say she’ll live forever, getting older and older until she’s like a living zombie-” 

“I heard that.” With a cross expression, Kaede leaned out of the window.“Don’t think I won’t curse you for those bad manners.”

Moroha waved the group on with a nervous chuckle. 

“And this is the home of the most famous demon slayer known to womankind - Sango!” Cupping both hands around her mouth like a bullhorn, Moroha drew out the last syllable of the woman’s name to emphasize her coolness. Several of the humans perked up with excitement; it wasn’t hard to imagine that they had themselves benefited from some of the woman’s work. 

“Her husband Miroku lives here too. He used to be a monk, but now he’s a family guy! My papa says -” She straightened, putting on a deep, gruff tone - “it’s a damn miracle -” Dropping the tone, she grinned cheerily at the group - “nobody will tell me why!” 

As if on cue, the door to the house opened to reveal a group of tall, bickering young adults. The loudest were two women with matching features, the only visible difference to a stranger being that one’s slayer outfit was trimmed in pink and the other’s in green. Behind them trotted a younger boy, also wearing a slayer outfit in red.  

“I’m taking the kusarigama, you’re taking the wakizashi!” The green-outfitted slayer said, ignoring her sister’s attempts to talk over her. “Otherwise you and Mom will have two long-range weapons, and that makes no sense!” 

“Plus that’s Uncle Kohaku’s specialty!” Their brother piped up; he dodged the twin elbows that swung back at him as easily as if they’d warned him. “She wants to impress him with it so he’ll take her on his trip to the mountains with Rin this summer!” 

Through the left-open door, came the sweet smell of treats baking - one of the many hobbies Miroku had taken up with his time, now that he wasn’t going to up and die (Moroha knew she wasn’t technically supposed to know about that. Or probably phrase it like that… But if her godfather Koga said it that way, why was it any different for her?)

The group of slayers stopped short upon seeing the crowd; with awkward bows, they quickly skirted their way around the gaping tourists. 

““That’s Sango’s kids; every one of ‘em demon slayer prodigies.” Slinging her arm around the same teen from earlier, Moroha shook her head with a dramatic sigh. “Makes me almost want another sibling. Except then I’d have to share my room, nooooo thank you!”

“Excuse me.” A mustached man in the middle of the group raised one arm curiously. “I heard one of those women mention Rin - is that the human who died twice and was resurrected by the sword Tenseiga?” 

“Huh? Oh, yeah. That’s Rin.” Moroha tapped her own head thoughtfully and muttered under her breath, “Was it really only twice…”

“Does she still live here?” The man’s mustache drooped in a frown. “Or did she go to live with that dog demon?”

“Dog demon? Ohhh, you mean Uncle Sesshomaru!” A smile stretched across her face. “I almost forgot about him! Nah, after she got married she decided to stay in town -” 

“Married?!” The group erupted in murmurs of horror. One kerchiefed mother clapped her hands over the ears of her daughter; the mustached man turned green.

Moroha’s face fell. “Well, yeah. She wanted to keep taking healer lessons from Kaede, and even though he travels a lot, she wanted to stay by Kohaku’s side when he comes home. Be a team, and all that.” 

“Ohhhh, so she’s Kohaku’s wife!” The human mother’s shoulders slumped with a sigh. “How lovely and age-appropriate.” 

Moroha wasn’t sure what that meant, but if it made the negative energy go away then she was all for it! “Rin’s super cool, anyway. She knows how to heal demons, not just humans, and she tells really good ghost stories, and she’s actually really good at arm-wrestling -” 

Suddenly she ducked her head to whisper, “She’s probably my favorite cousin, if I’m bein’ honest with ya.”

 “Do you have other cousins?” A man who appeared to look a thousand years old squinted in her direction. Perhaps in confusion, but it was hard to tell with all the wrinkles. “I doubt a full-blooded dog demon like that Sesshomaru fella would leave his legacy in the hands of a human girl.” 

“My mom would say that’s prejudiced,” Moroha said helpfully, causing the old man to blanche. “But Rin’s got two little sisters, who you can see riiiiiiight now!” 

With a dramatic twist, she whirled around to point in the opposite direction with both hands, adding a low growl that was meant to mimic the roar of an excited crowd. 

The moment was slightly underwhelmed by the confused looks of the tourists as they took a moment to figure out where exactly to look. That’s okay; she’d work on it. 

Down the road, her twin cousins leaned against the wall of a house (Moroha’s house, which she was saving for last because you always save the best for last). Towa was smiling and pointing out something up in the sky, while Setsuna wore a very predictable scowl. From this far away, the red streaks in their hair were little more than smudges. 

The extremely old man with an attitude problem made a weird hacking noise, most likely in surprise. 

“Did he adopt them like your other cousin?” asked a teenage girl. 

“Kinda!” Both hands landed on her hips; Moroha then modeled her expression on her Uncle - stoic, dismissive, oh-so-cool. “On a cool spring night, Uncle Sesshomaru walked into the darkest, deepest forest on the planet, waved his sword over a really old and creepy tree, and when he cut it open - there they were. Two lil’ hanyou babies.” 

Dramatic pause. 

“Just kiddin’.” Laughing loud enough to bring back the wincing from the group, Moroha slapped her knee. “They’re full demons. I can still take either of ‘em in a fight, though. Oh!” She pointed up in the air with a wide, excited smile. “There’s their mom right now!” 

Murmurs of confusion filled the air as the tourists moved their heads this way, that way; only when a chilling breeze morphed into flesh and bone, right before their eyes, did the group exclaim in collective understanding. 

Moroha waved. “Hi, Auntie Kagura!” 

“Yo.” Clearly taken aback by the crowd, the wind demon gave a tiny salute. The side of her neck bore a half-moon symbol tattooed on the skin; Moroha thought it was neat, even if her dad thought it was a dumb, archaic wedding ritual. “Do your parents know you’re doing this?” 

“Uh, duh!” She held up the sign with a cheeky grin. 

“Fair enough.” Upon spying her daughters across the way, Kagura’s expression softened a bit. “Well, I’ll see you later.” 

“No, wait! We’re actually heading the same way.” Gesturing to the not-moving crowd, Moroha repeated, “The same way. Meaning the best part of the tour - come on, folks, work with me here -” 

Kagura snorted, walking quickly as though to avoid the gawking humans and their nosy questions about how she had been resurrected or could still live now that Naraku was dead or got Sesshomaru to admit he had feelings much less have kids with her. A curt “none of your business” was all they’d get, no matter how much Moroha tugged on her sleeve and whined about “giving people their money’s worth.”

Luckily, once they reached Moroha’s house, it was easy to escape. After all, a much more awe-inspiring attraction awaited the group of lucky, lucky tourists. 

“And now! The Greatest Love Story Of Our Time!” With a winning grin, Moroha landed a kick on the door, sending it slamming open. 

“Oh.” Kagome blinked at the group from where she sat on a futon in the middle of the house, surrounded by magical artifacts. A scroll marked with ink rolled from her lap all the way to one side of the room. Behind her, halfway through helping her put her hair in a bun, Inuyasha froze “Uh, hello?”

“My parents! Dumdedumdummmmm!” The warmth of her pride felt like it was going to burst in her chest. It was the absolute best to come home to people who loved her! Whether it was tickle fights before bed, or her dad taking her and Shippo out on demon-tracking trips, or her mom humming a lullaby if she felt sick on the full moon night, Moroha was certain her family was the best of anybody’s anywhere. “One fell through time, and one fell -- fell, uh, for her -- sorry, I’ll work on it.” 

Inuyasha huffed in the way that meant he was going to complain later. Kagome just chuckled and waved. 

For once, the humans reacted exactly the way Moroha wanted them to - smiling, clapping, appreciating the wonder of her super-beautiful-and-also-hella-powerful mom and grumpy-but-still-amazingly-brave papa. She launched into the story she knew by heart, of how they had come to be together and saved the whole world while they were at it. Some parts were probably missing or misrepresented, from the laughter in her mom’s eyes, but she had enough of it right that half the tourist group was in near tears by the time she was done. 

“And now, they have one more accomplishment to add to the long list - parenting the greatest warrior this world has ever seen. Moro-uh, Beniyasha!” Swirling the ends of her fire-rat robe, she twirled. “The Crimson Slayer!”

“Slayer of my patience, maybe,” Inuyasha snapped, though he was unable to hide his smile as he marched over to grab her by the collar. “Come ‘ere, kid. You’ve got chores to do!” 

Tossing her over his shoulder, he waved dismissively at the group of humans. “Sorry folks, the show ends here. Yeesh...” 

Moroha cupped both hands around her mouth, screeching to be heard over her parent’s laughter before the door shut.

“Make sure to leave your comment cards in the box at the entrance!”

[skullrock]

37, 41 and 42 for the angsty/suggestive starters?? 👀

thank u jen!! this got dirty oops!!

warning: lil bit of smut/sub!Steve under the cut but also fluff!!

37: I'm sick of being the other guy

41: we’re not just friends. you know that.

42: friends don’t get each other off.

-------

Steve is feeling needy tonight, and his magazines aren’t really doing the trick. He tries to sleep, but instead only tosses and turns. He tries again, sans magazines, but he still can’t get anything to happen. So, he does what he always does when he can’t get off – he calls you.

You pick up after the first ring, quick to make sure your parents don’t wake up at the noise. You know it’s Steve. He’s the only person who calls after midnight.

“Hello?”

He whines your name, and you smile, knowing the game.

“You feeling needy tonight, Stevie?”

It drives him wild, hearing you call him that. Anyone else and he would hate it, but when you say it, it snaps something in him.

“So needy,” he moans, propping himself up on his pillows. “Magazines won’t work.”

“What am I supposed to do about that?” you tease.

“Help me,” he whines.

“What are you wearing, baby boy?”

“Nothing,” he groans, reaching down to palm himself through the sheets.

You lick your lips, cheeks flushing. It’s pretty incredible how just his voice turns you on. But imagining him here with you turns you on even more, and you sink down into your bed, and hand running over your nipples. “Do you miss me?”

“Fuck, yes,” he responds, starting to stroke himself, eyes falling shut.

“What do you miss?”

“Everything,” he pants. “Your pussy, your tits, the way you bite your lip—”

You giggle, because that’s exactly what you’re doing, and he moans breathily, imagining it.

“Why don’t you come here, pretty boy?”

He swallows hard. “Are you sure?”

“Can you still climb through my window with a hard-on?”

“I can try,” he breathes, licking his lips. “Be there in ten.”

-

Steve loves the way you take him, how you worship him the entire time. He loves how you make him feel like the only guy in the world, telling him how good he is, how good he feels. He loves how you pin him to the bed and ride him into the next decade, eyes rolling back into your head while you bounce on him. He loves the feeling of not being in control, just for a few minutes, submitting entirely to the wills of whatever you have planned.

But he hates it when you breathe out that you love him, knowing you don’t mean it that way.

“I love you,” you whisper as you brace yourself against his chest. “You feel so good.”

His stomach pangs and he has to force himself to stop going down that rabbit hole. The sex was great, but he wishes there was more. He wishes he could tell you he loves you back and mean it, without you looking at him weird.

You get off of him and lay beside him after your climax. His eyes follow you and he stares at you as you lay looking at the ceiling.

“What time is it?” you ask.

He leans over and looks at the watch on your nightstand. “Uh, it’s two.”

You sigh. “I’ve got a breakfast date with Alex in the morning.”

Steve’s face contorts in anger and sadness, and he quickly gets up, grabbing his clothes and throwing them on.

“You don’t have to go,” you say. “You can stay the night.”

He scoffs. “You want to wake up next to me just to go have breakfast with… Allan?”

Your brows furrow. “First of all, his name’s Alex, he’s part of the basketball team. Secondly, it’s our first date, and I’m really not that into hi—”

“I’m sick of being the other guy,” he says, turning to look at you. You see the heartbreak in his eyes.

“What?” you laugh. “Steve, when we started doing this, we agreed that we were just friends –”

“We’re not just friends,” he seethes, stepping towards you. “You know that.”

You laugh nervously. You hadn’t really come to terms with your admiration of Steve yet, choosing to shove those feelings down and not discuss them further. “Yes, we are!”

He rolls his eyes and grabs your head in his hands, forcing you to make eye contact with him. “Look, I know what you said when we started this. But that was – that was months ago, and that was when we didn’t have feelings for each other –”

“Steve,” you whisper. “You’re my friend. I’m sorry if you misinterpreted things.”

“We’re not just friends,” he repeats. “Friends don’t get each other off.”

Your eyes search his. You’re trying to figure out if this is a joke, or if he’s high, or what – but he cuts you off with a kiss.

This kiss is different. It’s not needy or rough, it’s gentle and thoughtful. His lips move against yours slowly, carefully, attentively. It makes you swoon, and you wrap your arms around his neck, kissing him back. He pulls away after a moment, looking into your eyes again.

“Friends don’t kiss like that,” he says. “Friends don’t – friends don’t love each other like this.”

Your eyes widen. “You love me?”

He nods, eyes serious. “I do.”

You look down, searching yourself. You’ve kind of known for a while that you loved him, and kept letting it slip out during sex, but you covered it up quickly. The realization comes to you fast, and you look back up at him. “I love you too.”

“You don’t have to say it back,” he says sadly. “You –”

“Steve,” you say, pulling him down to you, kissing him gently again. He kneels on the edge of your bed, hands travelling over your naked body, not out of lust but out of adoration. Yours do the same. You run your fingers over his broad shoulders, toned arms, down his chest. Your hands move slow, as do his, taking each other in.

He pulls away and rests his forehead gently on yours. He’s smiling, and it’s the best thing you’ve seen all year.

“At least we already know the sex is good,” you say with a laugh, and he laughs too, relief flooding through him.

“I love you,” he repeats.

“I love you, Steve Harrington,” you whisper back, catching his lips again.

You’ve gotta cancel that date with Alex.

[alright-red]

The rhythm of my heart

Summary: Street racing wasn’t something that Race was particularly proud of. He didn’t like the shitty attitude that people in the scene had and he sure as hell didn’t enjoy spending time after time breaking several laws in one go.

What he did enjoy was the rush of adrenaline, the way his body almost disconnected from his brain. The way his brain assumed that he was almost flying.

_________________________________________

Hey you guys, this is a prequel to a fic I’m currently writing and I thought why not share it. This is for my street racing AU featuring Race and this lil’ thing is mainly me figuring out plot holes so.

Disclaimer: I don’t know anything about street racing and I’m pretty sure it’s shows, but bear with me. Also English isn’t my first language but I think I did okay.

Rated: T for language, I guess. There’s a lot of cursing. ~1500 words

_________________________________________

The engine roared loudly, the entire car vibrating from it’s force, being pushed into third gear with the hand brake still on.

The wheels were turning and had started smoking against the dark asphalt, making sounds that any other person would’ve deemed hurtful to their ears.

To Race though, they sounded like a melody, an old familiar song, that accompanied him on the street. He took the pedal down to the metal and looked straight ahead, where some female thing was waving around flags like she was a shitty circus performer.

Race never knew where the guys got the girls they put on the spot, but he didn’t really care either. They enjoyed the feeling of being part of something like this, so who was he to judge?

Suddenly her waving pattern changed, a pattern Race would recognize anytime anywhere. He checked his rearview mirror one last time.

Three. Two. One.

He put down the break and almost flew into the night, the lights of the city traveling by faster than shooting stars. He barely registered them, focus unwavering and locked on the road in front of him. He knew the streets by heart, knew every bump and sign, knew the way the curves tightened and loosened.

He was confident he could win this thing and he got Albert to listen to the police radio and inform him in time if a car was headed up their way. He rarely got into races with that much confidence but today just seemed to be one of those days. He shifted up to the next gear within a mere blink of an eye.

Street racing wasn’t something that Race was particularly proud of. He didn’t like the shitty attitude that people in the scene had and he sure as hell didn’t enjoy spending time after time breaking several laws in one go.

What he did enjoy was the rush of adrenaline, the way his body almost disconnected from his brain and did all the driving while he focused on the traffic and made sure to let his opponents think they could beat him, just long enough to not end up in a giant brawl in the end, because they could count his win off as luck. It was tactics that helped him survive out here.

Aside from that. there was also the fact that his brain couldn’t quite tell they were driving anymore. It straight up lost all common sense and assumed that he was flying. There was nothing Race could do that would even come close to that sense of freedom (and he had tried to find a less dangerous pasttime).

Race also loved the car that Finch had assembled for him. Well, maybe less for him than for Charlie, but he was the one who took her out for drives at night and beat her up to over 140 mph in the city.

This year Charlie had chipped him a Toyota Supra despite Race’s protesting (“only the best for the best, Race”) and Finch had modified the sleek sportscar with gadgets and technology Race didn’t even pretend to understand. What he did understand though, was that Finch wouldn’t dare to disappoint Charlie and that’s why he trusted in the car. Well that, and because he assumed that Finch wasn’t one to go out and try to get people killed.

Halfway through the course that he had agreed on with his competitor, Race realized he should’ve taken the Toyota out a bit more before racing. Every now and then his driving got weird, whenever the car handled the speed and wind differently than he expected it too and he felt like his handling was going to get him to lose grip and send him flying into the next wall.

He started checking his rearview mirror more regularly, a slight insecurity starting to settle in his stomach, but realized that he couldn’t find a trace of the other’s car behind him. That was beyond weird. Morris Delancey most definitely had not managed to overtake him, yet he shouldn’t be far back either. At least not so far, that Race couldn’t even see his lights in the mirror. Morris’ car was a damn powerhouse and with any other driver surely would’ve come out top of each race.

Race was starting to feel sick. He definitely could not lose this race. Not with high stakes.

Race was well aware that the decision to race Morris was hella risky. Most of the city’s racers went under nicknames, trying to make sure that they couldn’t be ratted out and the plice couldn’t trace them. Or for that matter, other racers.

Morris Delancey though, he didn’t need a nickname to be safe. His daddy’s money made sure of that all by itself. If the police ever got him he’d be free again sooner than sunrise. The racers around the city were cautious of him; not only did he have supplies and money to boost his ride, he also was known for not following the few rules that street racing had.

So when word got to Race that Morris Delancey wanted to race him, the one person nicknamed after his talent in street racing, Race’s initial reaction had been to decline. He was good at what he did, but that didn’t make him stupid.

But now here he was, in Charlie’s car, getting more nervous by the minute, because Morris Delancey had made him an offer he couldn’t pass up. The same Morris Delancey who apparently had cheated and took a shortcut, because there was no way in hell he was that far behind Race.

“Crutch, you read me?”, he asked while speeding up even more, having to use the handbrake to make the turn and partway drifting through the turn that got him back on track to their starting point. His vision started blurring and he took a deep breath in an attempt to calm his nerves. The alarm that had started blaring in his head as soon as he had realized that Morris wasn’t where he was supposed to be, didn’t really help as he tried to concentrate on getting back as fast as possible, throwing any caution to the wind and pushing the car to it’s limits.

A small crackling sound reached him through the radio, followed by Charlie’s voice. “Yeah, man. What the hell is going on out there? We lost signal on Morris’ car a few miles ago. His team ain’t any wiser.”

Shit. Race, contrary to popular belief, wasn’t stupid or slow. He knew damn well that could only mean one thing.

“Crutch, he’s taking a blackout. Haven’t seen his car for a bit and there’s no way he took the lead. He’s playin dirty. I can’t lose this one, you hear me, Crutch?”

When he got no answer, Race started to panic and for split second forgot he was supposed to be handling a monster of a machine at a speed that would kill him if he made one mistake. He heaved the car off the course into the street lamp back onto the road. His knuckles had turned white a couple minutes ago from the death grip he had on the wheel.

“Crutchie?” Nothing.

Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Fucking Morris Delancey. Fucking asshole.

Another crackled sound made it to the radio. “Yo, Race, it’s Al. I had Charlie take over the radio station. Give me a sec and I will find where that ass is hiding.”

Race breathed out a sigh of relief, thanking the gods for giving him a best friend that had too much free time on his hands and tought himself how to hack pretty much any system. He knew the race couldn’t take that much longer; if he kept up his speed he’d probably be back in around 15 minutes.

“Al, how are we lookin? I need good news and preferably now.” Another turn, another neigh drift. Shifting gears, using the momentum for faster acceleration.

“I got something and… Shit.” The connection went down for a second before - “Race, he went right through that old lane that belongs to the outer parts of the red-light destrict. I don’t know how you can overtake him, man, he’s got a couple miles on you.”

A string or curses left Race’s mouth, some of them slipping right back to Italian. Merda.  Va’ a fare in culo!

“I feel ya. So what you wanna do now?”, Albert asked through the com.

What do you wanna do now? Race didn’t need to think twice. He had raced cheating assholes before, making sure they got a lesson for trying to best him under entirely unfair conditions.

“Funny you should ask, my dear Al. Because I have quite the idea.” He got off the road he was supposed to be taking and drove down a lane that would save him a good couple minutes on his way.

“I wanna take out that motherfucker and I sure as hell won’t let him beat me at my own damn game. Al, get your systems started, I want a route that will put me in front of him me, pronto! I want his sorry ass to eat dirt.”

He heard laughter on the other line, then frantic typing. A beat of static noises and then - “There you go, dude. Show him who’s the King of ‘Hattan!” A small clicking noise let him know that Albert had cut the connection for now, most likely because he knew that any kind of distraction might cost Race his win.

A mere second later the screen inside the car lit up, providing him navigation and - on top of that - let him keep track of Morris’ position.

“Alright, baby, let’s see what you got”, he murmured and took the car down the trail that would cost Morris his sweet, sweet victory.

Race only had one thought as he flew down the streets of Manhattan: I am going to win this thing!

[calpalirwin]

Phone Screens

Summary: Online relationships don’t make the feelings any less real

A/N: Wanted to try my hand at a dialogue heavy piece. Let me know how I did.

Content: Friends to lovers? I dunno.

Word Count: 3.3k

And away, and away we go!

__

drumming_heartbeats: Hey…

jetblackrose: Hi!

drumming_heartbeats: Saw your post about how you met Ashton. That musta been cool, yeah?

jetblackrose: Oh, it was hella cool! I was like super fuckin nervous and he was so chill about it. Honestly probably shouldn’t have fangirled as hard as I did lol. 

drumming_heartbeats: Lol, why do you say that?

jetblackrose: I’ve only been a fan for like less than a year lol. I know people have been a fan for years and still haven’t gotten the chance to meet him, or any of the other members so yeah. Feel like I haven’t done my time yet or something. It’s stupid.

drumming_heartbeats: Nah, that’s not stupid. That’s actually really cool. Your picture with him is fucking adorable btw.

jetblackrose: Aw thanks, lovely! How’d you become a 5sos fan? Assuming you are one?

drumming_heartbeats: Lol! My friend got me into them. But yeah, been a fan for awhile. I’m Tom btw. 

jetblackrose: Ooo a boy fan! Sick! Nice to meet ya Tom. I’m Gen. 

drumming_heartbeats: Shocking I know, but us guy fans do exist, lol. So I take it from the looks of your blog Ash is your favorite?

jetblackrose: I mean… I love them all equally for different reasons. But yeah, Ash is my fav. Something about that cheeky lil grin he does. And he’s so… I dunno, more mindful than the rest? Like they’re all dorks, don’t get me wrong. But he also gives off an old soul vibe I really connect with too if that makes sense. 

jetblackrose: Lol, sorry for rambling. 

drumming_heartbeats: Nah, it’s cute. And I totally get it. He definitely does seem to have that wisdom that comes from going through some heavy shit. 

jetblackrose: Rightfully so. I mean, he seems pretty open about the shit he’s gone through. And the fact that it’s only seemed to make him a kinder person is part of why I love him so much. 

drumming_heartbeats: Yeah. Like it’s very easy to let the demons win and give into the bitterness of it all. But he seems like a happy dude, so good for him. 

jetblackrose: Good for him indeed! Like all I want in life is for that man to be happy. Like, we all deserve that, but him especially. God, that sounds dumb doesn’t it? That I can feel so attached to someone I maybe talked to for like 5 minutes. Like I know realistically he will probably never recall our encounter or think twice about it. But that doesn’t mean I can’t wish him happiness all the same I suppose. Sorry… rambling again. 

drumming_heartbeats: Nah, that’s not dumb at all. If anything I think it shows how caring of a person you are. Which the world could use a lot more of.

jetblackrose: Lol, thanks! You’re sweet to think that. But it’s definitely dumb lol. 

drumming_heartbeats: Not even the slightest. Fuck, I’m about to pass out. Talk later?

jetblackrose: You know where to find me. Night-o!

~~~

jetblackrose: Hey, Tom?

drumming_heartbeats: Yeah?

jetblackrose: Probably a dumb question but where do you live? I feel like I keep you up hella late. 

drumming_heartbeats: I live in LA.

jetblackrose: Shit, no way?!

drumming_heartbeats: Yeah, lol. I mean, I travel a lot for work but yeah. LA’s home. 

jetblackrose: Oh that’s awesome! Are you traveling now?

drumming_heartbeats: Nah, I’m home for the time being. Resting up. Gonna be a busy year.

jetblackrose: Yeah? Hopefully good busy.

drumming_heartbeats: Oh, yeah. It’s always good busy. Hey, did you see the new stuff 5sos put up?

jetblackrose: Yes! Holy shit! Are they TRYING to kill their fans or what?!

drumming_heartbeats: Lmao right? Like fuck, bruh…

jetblackrose: More like fuck me please, lmao! Quick question! And you don’t have to answer if this is way too personal. But are you gay?

drumming_heartbeats: No? I mean, I don’t have a fragile male ego. I can freely admit that men are handsome. But I’m not like… I dunno. If anything I’d probably say I’m bi. I just… labels are confusing.

jetblackrose: Yeah, I feel you on that. Like I just love who I love. I don’t feel the need to explain it much beyond that.

drumming_heartbeats: Exactly! I mean, but I’ve only ever had female partners so… the assumption is straight I suppose.

jetblackrose: I’ve only had male partners. Well, I’ve kissed girls. But I’ve only ever dated dudes.

drumming_heartbeats: Oh, I bet your bf loves that, huh?

jetblackrose: I wouldn’t know. I frequently had my attraction to women from the dudes I date so I don’t get the creeps.

drumming_heartbeats: So no bf…?

jetblackrose: Lol, that’s what you get out of that? You’re such a dude! But nope. No bf.

drumming_heartbeats: Damn, that sucks.

jetblackrose: Why do you have a gf?

drumming_heartbeats: No. I did. But we broke up like a few months ago.

jetblackrose: Aw, sorry to hear that.

drumming_heartbeats: Lol, I think you’re the first person to say that. Normally people are sorry to hear I’m IN a relationship, not out of one.

jetblackrose: Wtf? That’s so dumb, lol. You’re my friend, Tom. I want you to be happy.

drumming_heartbeats: Aw, I’m your friend?

jetblackrose: Yes…? I mean, we’ve talked all day every day for like what? A month? I swear I talk more with you than my real life friends lol.

drumming_heartbeats: Aw, that’s so cute! You’re my friend too, btw. If that wasn’t obvious. I really like talking with you.

jetblackrose: I really like talking with you too! Like, I know it’s probably really stupid to say, but I never really got how people can become friends online. Like how can you feel connected to someone you never actually met, you know? But talking with you, I get it. I’m glad you messaged me.

drumming_heartbeats: Aw, Gen baby, you’re gonna make me blush! That’s so fuckin’ cute. I’m glad I messaged you too. You feel more real to me than the friends I actually see lol.

jetblackrose: Looks like we’re both gonna make the other blush… Dude! Honestly, I think it’s because we can only talk. Like, we can’t actually see each other, so we have to rely on these messages. And it’s a lot easier for me to not be shy when I message someone. Because I can delete what sounds stupid!

drumming_heartbeats: Lmao! Nothing you say could ever be stupid.

jetblackrose: You say that now… Trust me though, in person I’m a fuckin nervous idiot. Like I talk too fast or not at all.

drumming_heartbeats: I bet you’re fuckin cute in person.

jetblackrose: Lmao, are you hitting on me?

drumming_heartbeats: Too much?

jetblackrose: Nah, lol. I don’t scare easy. I just bet you’re way cuter.

drumming_heartbeats: Not even! Have you SEEN your face?

jetblackrose: You mean this face? *picture*

drumming_heartbeats: Damn, baby!

jetblackrose: Fuck… is it really dumb of me to like you calling me “baby” so much?

drumming_heartbeats: I mean… I don’t think so? Like, I would hope it doesn’t bother you.

jetblackrose: No, it doesn’t bother me. I like it.

drumming_heartbeats: Cool! Cuz I like calling you that.

~~~

drumming_heartbeats: Is this your king? *picture*

jetblackrose: My brain literally went “oh daddy”... I DON”T EVEN HAVE A DADDY KINK! Ashton Irwin is going to be the death of me, watch. On my tombstone it’ll read “Gen. Killed by Ash’s hotness”

drumming_heartbeats: Omg lol!

jetblackrose: Too dramatic?

drumming_heartbeats: I mean…? Maybe?

jetblackrose: Maybe? Nah. What would be dramatic would be me saying how badly I want those arms of his wrapped around me. Like cuddling me. Choking me. I don’t even care. But those hands? I needs them on me!

drumming_heartbeats: You’re right. That would be dramatic lol.

jetblackrose: Like fuck… I bet those are the most restless set of hands. Like he’s a drummer. So like he’s probably constantly moving his fingers. Is it too much to ask that he moves those fingers across my skin? Like… bruh…

drumming_heartbeats: Omg, I love you dude.

jetblackrose: You what…?

drumming_heartbeats: Shit… I mean like… uh…

jetblackrose: Tom, relax. I love you too.

drumming_heartbeats: Shit, for real?

jetblackrose: Yeah. And… that kinda scares me? Like I don’t actually know you. I mean, I know you. We’ve talked every day for the past 3 months. But… I didn’t think I could ever feel this strongly for someone I’ve never physically met. Like, granted, it’s a very strong friendship love. But, I… I dunno if I should admit this… fuck it. I think I could actually love you. Like in a romantic way. Hell, I think I already do.

drumming_heartbeats: Omg, you’re the fuckin cutest!

jetblackrose: I promise I’m not lol. I just… fuck dude, I dunno. I just love you, alright? And it fuckin blows my mind that we live in the same area basically and haven’t met. Because I really wanna fuckin meet you. But also not. Cuz like I don’t want to ruin this. And that’s such a fuckin cop out response. But like I am genuinely terrified that if we met you won’t like what you see.

drumming_heartbeats: Why wouldn’t I like what I see?

jetblackrose: Because I can send you a message without stuttering like a damn fool. I can stare at my phone until I find the perfect way to phrase things. I can’t do that in person. In person I’ll probably just stare blankly at you and make weird sounds.

drumming_heartbeats: I would still love you, Gen. I’m not much better. I’m probably worse lmao.

jetblackrose: You’re sweet to say that. But I’m a very what you see if what you get type. I’m either hyper, loud, and obnoxious or I’m closed off and shy. I fluctuate from wanting to go on all the adventures to wanting to stay curled up in bed all day. It’s why I end up with failed relationships. No one can handle the wild mood swings. Which is fine. I get it. It sucks. But I get wanting a partner who can navigate middle ground.

drumming_heartbeats: Well all those guys are idiots because that sounds fuckin perfect to me. Like I’m a busy guy. And as much as I’m down for adventures, I’m also down to just do fuckin nothing. Like just being with the girl is good enough, you get me? An adventure can be as easy as building a fort and watching movies all day.

jetblackrose: YES! Like fuck, that’s all I want. Someone who gets it. Someone like you.

drumming_heartbeats: Good thing you have me then.

jetblackrose: Good fuckin thing indeed! God, I’m so glad you messaged me.

drumming_heartbeats: Me too.

~~~

jetblackrose: Fuck, I’m so stressed!

drumming_heartbeats: Aw, what’s wrong baby?

jetblackrose: Just lack of motivation. Like I need a mental health day. Only there’s too much to do that I can’t actually do that. Like if I could pause time, that’d be fuckin great.

drumming_heartbeats: Aw, sorry baby.

jetblackrose: It’s my own dumb fault. I know I have to get stuff done and I just… feel so uninspired I guess? Like I don’t want to do work. I want to do things that bring me joy.

drumming_heartbeats: Like Ashton lmao?

jetblackrose: Haha, very funny. But yes. And no. Like fuck I just wanna talk with you all day and bingewatch tv shows.

drumming_heartbeats: Yeah, I get that. But you’ll get through this. You’re strong. Love you, baby.

jetblackrose: Aw! I love you too, baby! Fuck, I can’t wait for my vacation in a few weeks.

drumming_heartbeats: Going anywhere or just like a good chunk of time off from responsibilities?

jetblackrose: Just a good chunk of time off. If I go anywhere it’ll probably just be around here. See some friends. Maybe go to the beach to get some use of the new swimsuit I bought.

drumming_heartbeats: I’m your friend. Can you see me?

jetblackrose: You wanna see me? You want to experience all this awkward in real time? Are you feeling okay?

drumming_heartbeats: I’m serious lol. Why not? We’ve been friends for how long now?

jetblackrose: Like 6 months? Holy shit.

drumming_heartbeats: So is that a yes? Can we meet?

jetblackrose: I thought you’re traveling for work?

drumming_heartbeats: My job is sending me off in spurts lol. Like I’m actually coming home this week. And then I’ll be home for like a month.

jetblackrose: And you want to see me on your time off?

drumming_heartbeats: Why not? Don’t you want to meet me?

jetblackrose: Of course I want to meet you Tom! I love you, you goof. But I’m nervous.

drumming_heartbeats: Lol, why?

jetblackrose: Because I love you this much with having never seen your face or heard your voice. I don’t want to see you and then have to say goodbye. If I get the chance to actually be in your arms, I’m not gonna want to leave.

drumming_heartbeats: Lol, good. Cuz I don’t think I’ll let you go.

jetblackrose: Okay, seriously, I could not love you more. Like are you trying to make me a flustered idiot?

drumming_heartbeats: Is it working lol?

jetblackrose: Yes! Okay, can I ask you a question?

drumming_heartbeats: You can ask me anything.

jetblackrose: Would… fuck I dunno why I’m so nervous asking you this… It’s no secret that we clearly care for each other. It’s also no secret that we love each other. But… is this all in my head? Am I confessing all these feelings and you don’t actually feel the same way in return?

drumming_heartbeats: Gen, baby, I’m serious. I… I want to meet you because I think we can be more than this. More than what we are here through these messages. Not that I don’t love our conversations. Not that I don’t want to stop having them. Because I love talking with you. I wouldn’t trade this relationship we’ve built for anything. But I want to keep building it. And I want to meet you to do that. If you don’t want the same, that’s fine. But that’s where I’m at.

jetblackrose: No. I want to meet you too. I’m just scared.

drumming_heartbeats: Don’t be scared. I love you, Gen.

jetblackrose: I love you too, Tom.

~~~

Gen sat in her car, frowning. Seven months of talking and she was finally about to see Tom. They had agreed on going to the beach as they both felt relaxed by water. But she was nervous all the same. Not only was she seeing her best online friend she had admitted to having a massive crush on, he was also going to see a lot of her skin, as she couldn’t exactly hide under jeans and hoodies at the beach. Not that she wanted to hide from Tom. She was just scared. She flipped down the visor and checked herself over in the small mirror. Then, she took a deep breath to steady herself and got out of the car.

She walked along the pier, the ocean breeze stirring her hair and bringing forth a calm steadiness within her. She leaned her arms on the wooden banister and waited. Her nerves had caused her to arrive a half hour early.

The water swirling around beneath her was hypnotizing. She wasn’t aware of time passing until a voice was calling out, “Gen?” followed by a small tap on her shoulder.

She turned, a smile on her face, nervous flutters in her stomach. As her eyes scanned up at her friend, her mouth dropped open.

The man giggled, a dimple indenting his cheek. “Surprise?”

Her eyes flashed behind her sunglasses and then her hands were shoving his chest. “YOU LIAR!” she shouted at him, her voice shrill.

“Whoa,” he said, grabbing her hands as she continued to push him. “Hey, I didn’t lie!”

“Yes you did! You said your name was Tom!” She ripped her hands out of his grasp, her skin lighting up in memorization at his touch.

“Clever, eh?” he smirked.

“Clever?! Lying to me was clever?!”

“I didn’t lie!”

“You lied about who you were, Tom! What else did you lie about?!”

“Just my name. I promise. And you don’t have to keep calling me Tom.”

Her voice shot down to a barely audible whisper as she told him in a horrified tone, “If I don’t call you Tom, then this becomes real. Really real. And then I’m the lunatic who just shoved my favorite drummer from my favorite band while screaming that he was a liar. And… STOP SMIRKING, ASHTON!”

Ashton held up his hands defensively and took a step backwards. “Alright, alright! I’m sorry, okay?”

“Sorry about what? Sorry you lied to me? Or sorry I’m mad about it?”

“Sorry you’re mad about it. I had to lie.”

“No. No, you really didn’t.”

“Yes, I did.”

“BULLSHIT!”

“Do you see how you’re acting right now?! This is why I lied! Can you imagine if we had done this over messages?”

“I wouldn’t have believed you.”

“Exactly.”

“Your friend got you into 5sos… fucking… UGH!”

“Yeah, that was pretty clever wasn’t it?”

“I cannot FUCKING BELIEVE YOU!”

“Well, will you let me explain then?”

“Please. Wordsmith your way outta this one. Be my guest.”

“Okay,” he huffed, pushing his back hair out of his face. “I liked you the night of the party. When we actually met.”

“Oh, my God… my life is a fan fic…” Gen interrupted, eyes wide as her brain played catch up, still not believing this was actually real.

“I have to be careful, okay. It’s not that I wanted to lie to you about who I was. Not that I was. Everything I told you was real. My feelings are real.”

“Jesus, I said so many fuckin’ things to you. So. Many! I said you gave me a daddy kink! I said I wanted you to choke me! I said those things to someone I thought was a friend!”

“I am your friend!”

“No! You’re ASHTON FUCKIN’ IRWIN! And I’m… Gen,” she admitted, sadly. “I’m right where I was seven months ago. Meeting my idol and trying not to read too much into it. Only it’s worse. Because you’re aware of things I never would have told you had I known you were actually you. Please excuse me while I go die in a hole. Matter of fact, I’m just…” She walked towards the edge of the pier, placing her hands on the banister and pretended to lift herself up.

“Stop that,” Ashton scolded with a chuckle, pulling her off the railing and into his arms.

She froze, her body going rigid. “Let go of me.”

“No. I said if I got you in my arms I wouldn’t let go. And you said you wouldn’t want to leave. Now who’s the liar?”

“It’s still you by a fuckin’ mile!”

He let go but only to spin her around before his hands were gripping her shoulders. “I’m sorry if I upset you by keeping my identity a secret. I get if that changes things for you. But it doesn’t for me. I still feel the same way I felt towards you today that I did yesterday. And I’ll still feel the same way about you tomorrow and for the rest of my life.”

“Y-you do?” she asked, her eyes wide in disbelief.

“Yes. Maybe I went about this the wrong way. Maybe I should’ve asked for your number that night instead of waiting for the picture of us to surface so I could find you that way. Maybe I shouldn’t have hidden my identity. But I did what I thought was best. I don’t like being vulnerable. I don’t like putting myself out there. So I protected myself the best way I knew how. You still got the real me, though.”

She stared up at him. As much as she wanted to be mad at him, she couldn’t. He was still her online best friend, and she was still in love with him.

“Look,” he kept talking. “Maybe we walk off this pier and never speak again. Or, maybe you trust me and yourself. Maybe we make it. Maybe we don’t. But either way, neither one of us is walking off this pier the same person we were before.”

__

Tag List

@goeatsomelife​ @flameraine​ @cashtonasff5sos​ @here-for-the-uproars​ @cxddlyash​ @1-irwin-94​ @baldcalum​ @sparkling-chaos​ @tea4sykes​ @youngblood199456​ @5-seconds-of-obsession​ @gosh-im-short​

[kujo1597]

Another day where I played Disc Creatures instead of taking my second nap. But that’s okay! 

So, I wandered through the forest some more and burning more Noizum and Ampords to discs which is a great source of cash. And I ended up in a new area.

The creatures in this mess teleport around a lot, and this is a maze too. But it wasn’t the hardest maze ever. These woods are pretty uneventful overall so I don’t have much to talk about. I eventually made it to a safe area with a Tomatee and a Quaverpole. 

This guy got a little philosophical. 

And then gave me a hint.

I already knew this because I read the discussion threads but it’s nice to meet the guy who tells you.

And this Quaverpole heals you up.

So I walked north after getting nice and refreshed. 

Good message by the way. Too bad that UFO didn’t follow it.

You’d think that path would go straight to the boss fight, but no, there’s a straight path with a bunch of creatures first. They zoom around really fast and got a couple sneak attacks on me.

Then I made it to this weird spot with a ton of screws in the ground. And I got ready!

And even more ready! I thought that was coming from the UFO! 

But no!

It was the Clud Brothers! :D I’m so happy they’re recurring characters. 

Anyway! Big Clud was ready to fight whoever is in this UFO, but Lil Clud decided that it might be better to try to reason with them. So Big Clud started to compliment the UFO's shape... and shape... ...and shape.

It worked!

But the alien doesn’t speak the language of the Disc Creatures world...

But Big Clud can speak alien?

Lil Clud didn’t expect this either and asked how that’s even possible.

And of course this was the explanation. 

After some more talking, and Big Clud asking Rogk to stop spreading scrap everywhere. And Rogk got mad. 

I took 20 screenshots of this whole exchange and I’m not going to post them all. So, Rogk is from a distant planet and he’s been spreading all that scrap as a gift. 

And Big Clud made things worse by saying that this resource just looks like regular old scrap. 

So the Clud Brothers did what they do best, shapeshift.

And try to sell me out. Rogk said that they’ll deal with the human first. Which relieved the Clud Brothers, but Rpgk clarified that they meant that they’ll be dealing with the brothers LATER.

Boss time!

I’M SO FREAKING GLAD I HAVE HELMSPLITTER

Okay! So here’s how this boss works. Those two Metwol take turns using Cover. The creature that uses Cover takes all the hits for that round. It’s Follow Me in Pokémon. I don’t know if I touched on this in a previous post, but refreshers are always nice. Metwol has ridiculously high defense and Helm Splitter greatly lowers it.

While being protected by these Metwol Rogk keeps upping their Mind and Barrier stats. So you need to take out the Metwol as quickly as possible. 

After finishing them off Rogk pops their arms off and uses Rock Blast. And that’s all they used at that point in my fight.

Rogk can also sometimes redirect attacks back to you. Chiba fell victim to this, sadly. But other than that, it was an easy boss fight.

All because of my Monoxe having a defense debuff. 

I think Rogk took their loss well.

Don’t give them any ideas!

And with a show of maturity, Rogk flew away.

Then the Clud Brothers left to do more cleaning. After they apologized to me for selling me out. They claimed it was part of a plan to throw Rogk off guard but I have my doubts. 

Anyway...

I can make my own alien now! I need a Puzz for this though...

So I went north and finally found it! The fabled tree!

I actually forgot the fruit was the goal for this episode...

But before going back home I decided to check out the creatures of the deep forest and found this guy! One of the poachers used one of these. 

And I tried the creature lottery and got something fitting.

I walked around town some more because I remembered that hint from earlier.

And a year ago when I first started this game I went to the deepest part of Junglan Woods to get this recipe. Turns out I didn’t need to do that. ;_;

So after cleaning up here I used fast travel to get to Pista Port to feed a fruit to a whale. 

I wandered around lost for a little while because it’s been a year. Eventually I found my way.

First off, I did not expect the Porka to look like this. That’s more of a narwhal than a whale. 

Secondly, who is this pink guy?

Well, I ignored pink guy and spoke to the fisherman.

And was offered a ride, but was told the Porka is sick. Thankfully I read the bulletin board and knew this so I had just what it needed. 

Teehee hee, look at this cutie. :3

Little guy was jumping for joy, which was an unusually high amount of energy for it according to the fisherman. 

Yes! A free ride to Mt. Azel!

If I ever need it.

You know where this is going.

Phangon sounds pretty awesome so I want to see this. After some talking Karl decided that he’ll be going to Mt. Azel with me. Also, pretty sure he’s supposed to be gay. There’s a lot of “Me oh my”s in his dialogue. And he’s pink. 

But whatever, as long as things stay in the fun campy gay department I think this character’s fine. 

Anyway, he went on ahead.

Apparently??? He ran off towards town, and not the Porka. But whatever.

LOOK AT THIS HAPPY FELLA! 

And I’m going to stop here because this post is very long. I also need to grind up some money. A 500 Pico item is required to get everything on Mt. Azel and I only have enough discs I’m willing to sell to get 375. So I need to grind in the lava tubes.

I also need 70 Pico for the next page of the Creaturepedia. 

[jordswriteswords]

Clextober19: Fall Festivities

Back to school was the favourite time of year for most. Parents were overjoyed that their children would be supervised while they were working; children were overjoyed the see their friends again; teachers were overjoyed to… well, they were overjoyed for the weekends.

Madi, on the other hand, hated back to school. Being a half witch meant she had half the human antibodies, and half the witch antibodies, therefore, she was in for a whole dose of unrelenting colds during the first two months. She would get sick at least twice in that short amount of time, causing her to miss a lot of school and a lot of the time that children spent making and solidifying their friendships.

But, she couldn't go to school. Not when her nose was stuffy and running and she was sniffling and sneezing and turning her mother into an elephant, blowing her Aunt Raven up like fireworks, and sending her mama into the desert and back again in a wiggle of her nose.

But Ms. Indra insisted that she be present for the first field trip of the year. The kids were going to the apple farm, after all, and Lexa had volunteered as the class chaperone.

In hindsight, Madi should have known that her class would have been more interested in Lexa and her superstar status than the actual field trip. Even as the ten year old curled up in her mama’s shoulder, she was still having to deal with boys and girls interrupting to get a picture with her mama or ask for her autograph.

Madi sucked down the hot tea that her mama had packed in her travel mug, a blend of echinacea and magical herbs to fight off both sides of the cold virus. It relieved the aches and pains, and most importantly, stopped the sniffles for the time being.

The class wandered through the apple farm for a majority of the day, getting lost in corn mazes, learning how to bale hay for the animals, petting tiny lambs in the petting zoo, and drinking warm cups of apple cider and eating apple pie.

Madi had made it throughout most of the day without mishap aside from sneezing and blowing her mom across the corn field. Lexa snapped her fingers and fixed the holes that were created before anyone had noticed, though.

The last part of the trip was the horse rides around the farm. Each child in the class took a turn on one of the ten horses for a tour of the entire farm.

Madi brushed her hand along the nose of a chocolate pony. “Hey. Your name is Ryder. It’s cute.”

The horse stomped it's foot in the mud and shook it's head up and down. “I think my handler was a punny guy.”

Madi chuckled. “That’s actually funny.”

The horse took a step back. “No way you can understand me.”

Madi smiled up at the big nose, lifting her hands in deference like her mama had taught her to approach animals. “Duh. You speak English. You just have a weird accent.”

The horse neighed, catching Lexa’s attention. and she took a quick picture of her daughter smiling up at the giant and sent it off to her wife.

Ryder bowed his head and said, “Well I’ll be, aren't you just a smart lil cookie. Hey Cleatus! Lookie o’er here! We got us our own Dr. Doohickey!”

“Dr. Doolittle,” Madi corrected, and Ryder huffed at her.

A black stallion galloped over towards them and sniffed Madi’s neck. “She smells like apples. I love apples!”

She giggled at the contact, and pulled an apple out of her pocket, holding it out for Cleatus.

“You can hear us?” Cleatus asked.

Madi nodded and giggled more when he stepped right into her space, his giant eyeball looking into hers.

A white mare saddled up to Madi shortly after, nudging her bum with her nose.

“Ponyelope,” Ryder scolded. “She’s a good one.”

They were interrupted by the sounds of her classmate yelling. “Look at this weirdo!” Josephine Lightborne pointed at Madi, who was surrounded by horses. “She can’t make real friends so she hangs out with animals!”

Madi’s classmates pointed and laughed, and Lexa had to squeeze her hands together to stop them from snapping and giving all the ten year olds wedgies. But, if Josephine ended up stepping in a suddenly appearing cow-pie, Lexa was none the wiser.

“Don’t mind them, darlin’” Ryder consoled. “Let’s just go on a good ol’ fashioned ride. That’ll cheer ya’up, I promise,” he neighed.

Madi sighed, but smiled when Ryder rubbed his nose against her cheek. Ryder took off at a slow cadence once Madi climbed aboard, describing all the parts of the farm to her. He wandered as far away from the rest of the group as he could without drawing suspicion to point out the magical flowers in the fields and the magical animals that could only be seen by those with abilities.

The path wound around and through the pumpkin fields, and Madi tensed. "I'm allergic to pumpkins!" She hissed to the horse.

Ryder slowed his trot, but the cowboy handler that was leading the group circled around and forced him to carry on.

Her nose tickled, and she looked over to Lexa with fear in her eyes. She clutched at Ryder’s fur, and her heels dug into his sides.

"I'm trying, I'm trying," Ryder said, trying to console his rider. He tried to move faster, but his handler wasn't letting him, tired of his antics.

Madi sneezed and all hell broke loose.

She had turned the pumpkin patch into a giant, living creatures that scared Josephine's horse into bucking with her still on. She fell off the back of the horse and straight into the mud with a scream.

The rest of the horses followed suit, kicking and bucking their riders off so they could free themselves.

"Whoa, whoa!" The handlers tried, but the terrified animals wouldn't heed. The animals kicked and whined, and started to run off.

"What did I do?" Madi questioned, her voice shaky with sadness.

Ryder didn’t buck his rider off; however. He took off with Madi on his back, straight to the rest of the now free horses. All the horses had run about a hundred yards from the scare and we're circling the ground, huffing angrily.

"What was that?"

"I'll kill it!"

"I hate pumpkins!"

"Fight back!"

Madi jumped off the horse and approached the pack with her hands up. "Whoa, whoa," The horses were frazzled and frightened. "I know you're all scared. It's okay, it's my fault."

"Kill the girl!" One horse yelled, neighing and rearing back on its hind legs. Ryder moved in front of her. "Calm down, Otis, she's just a girl!"

"It was an accident!" Madi pleaded. "It was an accident. I can't control my powers."

"She scared us!"

"But we're fine!" Ryder said.

"Let's just all calm down," Madi said. "I'm sorry I scared you. I won't let it happen again."

The horses huffed and sneezed, but Madi wouldn’t move from the middle of the pack.

"Madi, no!" Her teacher called.

"Wait, wait," Lexa said, grabbing the teacher and stopping them from interfering. “They’re calming down.”

“Please, just come back to your owners. I promise, no more magic. No more pumpkins.”

Ponyelope looked around, her ears twitching with nerves.

“Please,” Madi breathed.

Ponyelope took one step, then two, then moved right past Madi and headed towards the handlers. The rest of the horses followed, and Ryder pressed his big head into Madi’s chest. She laughed and hugged his nose.

The class looked on as Madi corralled the horses and got them to follow her back to the handlers.

"How did you do that?" Aden asked when she got back.

Madi just shrugged.

"It's because - it's because she's a weirdo!" Josephine said, covered from head to toe in mud. "She doesn't have any friends so she talks to animals, and even they don't listen to her!"

A few of her classmates laughed at Madi, whose cheeks became warm with embarrassment. She ran back to the bus, and Lexa trailed after her.

"Hey, shut up!" Aden Forrest, they typically shy and well mannered boy, yelled. "She saved your life, Josephine! She saved all of us from getting really hurt!"

***

"Mads?" Lexa asked, slowly sitting next to her daughter on the large seat of the deserted bus.

The only sound was a sniffle, and then Lexa felt the soft flutter of snowflakes cascading onto her head.

"I hate this," Madi whispered. "I hate having magic! I hate being human! I hate that I'm just a weird half-thing!" The sound of her voice grew louder until she shouted at her mama. She turned and punched the seat in front of them as tears poured from her eyes.

"I'm sorry you feel that way Madi," Lexa said, dusting the snow off her shoulder and then wrapping her daughter in a warm hug.

Madi sniffed again as the tears fell and Lexa was pelted with sand and dirt.

Lexa snapped and created an umbrella to hover above her and her daughter to stop the onslaught.

"You have so many special gifts, Madi, but the best one is that you're kind. Don't let someone like Josephine take that away from you. What you did today made me more proud than you learning your first spell. You're a great person, and kids are just dumb. It'll get better, I promise. If you want to be sad right now, or if you can't help it, that's okay. I'm right here. But, never hate who you are. You’re the best parts of me and the best parts of your mom. You’re an incredible kid, Madi."

Madi leaned into her mama and hugged her tightly around her neck. "I love you, mama."

"Love you too, Mads."

Aden was the first student to enter the bus since the incident, and his heavy, awkward footsteps sounded until he was standing directly in front of Madi and Lexa’s seat. "Hey, sorry, Hi, Mrs. Griffin-Woods. I'm sorry to interrupt, but uhh," Aden said, shuffling awkwardly from foot to foot. He had a piece of paper in his hand that he folded and unfolded methodically.

Madi hid her face in Lexa's collar, and it took everything inside of the brunette not to snap at the boy. "Yes, Aden?" She asked, already pulling her pen out of her pocket to sign his paper.

"Sorry, um, thank you for offering, but I don’t want your autograph.” He ran his hand through his shaggy blonde hair, “but can you give this to Madi for me? I just want her to know that she's the coolest person ever and say thank you for saving us." His earnest blue eyes pleaded with Lexa and he thrust the paper into her face. She gracefully retrieved it from his fingers and opened it only after he scurried away and off the bus.

Lexa’s heart melted at what she saw.

Aden had written a big 'thank you' on the cover of the card. Inside, all the students in the class signed the left side of the page. On the right side, he had drawn a picture of Madi with a cape and a horse. And on the back, he scrawled, 'Madi, thank you for saving us. You're a superhero. Can I sit with you at lunch tomorrow? - your friend, Aden'

[artnerd1123]

Angels and Demons and Hybrids, Oh My! ((aka i’m a nerd and wanted a fancy title to the rambling that’s undercut sldkfjs)) ((enjoy this aimless talk about AFW angels, a lil bit about demons, and some blurbin about stuff in between :D))

Angels:

Dark magic (using it or being around large amounts of it) makes them sick. Too much can kill them.

A dead angel dissolves into a cloud of light after a couple of days.

Angels don’t really ‘eat,’ perse, but they do absorb and feed off of light. Sunlight and other natural light sources are the most filling. They can feed off magical/artificial/firelight, though, if they need to!

Since they watch people down below all the time, the concept of privacy isn’t really a thing they grasp well.

This goes further by angels being very communal, all of em kinda sleeping in piles and just kinda chillin wherever with each other.

Angels that’re really good friends will preen each other’s wings!

Their wings are pastel colors. No darker/black wings.

Angel heirarchy is a thing, but its mostly used just to name what kind of angel looks like what (ex: if you’ve got 6 wings they call you a seraph, if you’ve got 4 you’re probably cherubim, etc)

They tend to just kinda heck off to sky town for the most part. This is why you hardly ever see them. They much prefer watching people and chillin up in the sun.

Doesn’t mean some of em don’t go down anyways tho!

They can be just as mischievous, nosy, and curious as demons if you manage to catch their eyes.

They can see out of all those eyes, actually, so there’s no way to avoid them seeing anything around them unless you’ve blinded them all.

Tbh they’re all just really curious about everything. You won’t find an angel that isn’t at least moderately nosey in the right context.

All angels are scared of some type of snake.

Loud noises tend to alarm them greatly. Thus, angels usually avoid stuff like thunderstorms, volcano eruptions, concerts, and other loud places.

Some of them know how to use disguise magic to hide their wings, and walk around in towns on occasion. The only way you’d be able to tell they’re an angel is if you startle them- any extra eyes they have will open up, and their unseen wings will flare open/knock into stuff.

They’ve got their own brand of defense magic called heavenflames. It’s exactly what it sounds like. Only more powerful angels have full access and control to these, though.

Average angels can only have a few handfuls of heavenflames at a time. They tend to use heavenflames only for when they only need it-- it saps their energy pretty fast.  

Heavenflames are completely resistant to dark magic, and can burn it away if they’re allowed to burn hot/long enough.

However, heavenflames can be put out by water boiled over a hellfire flame.

While angels are quite a handful, and aren’t quite the best at the whole ‘hands off and leave me alone’ thing, they generally strive to do at least a little bit of good. They’re like weird cryptids who don’t know a lot but just wanna help people out and make people smile. (even if the only smiling people they want are their friends).

Demons:

Regular magic (using it or being around large amounts of it) makes them sick. Too much can kill them.

A dead demon melts into a puddle of shadows after a couple days.

Being around/ingesting dark magic will heal any demon.

Demons usually eat dark magic, chunks of souls, or dead things (like scavengers). Some have combo diets, but only one of these tend to actually fill them up.

Really old or powerful demons have the ability to create and use hellfire. Its exactly what it sounds like.

Hellfire is exclusively dark fire. It can eat up and corrupt anything it touches, if you let it get out of hand. However, it’s also really good for demon healing/feeding. Basking in its heat allows wounds to heal in a matter of hours rather than days, even clearing up unwanted scars. Basking also allows dark magic eaters to absorb and consume the dark magic radiating off the flames.

Hellfire burns like oil flames. It won’t get put out by water unless it’s been boiled by heavenflames.

Demons is a mix of good n bad tbh. There’s plenty of rotten ones, but you can def find good eggs in there too! About the only thing in common they have across the board is a tendency to be chaotic and get really overly dedicated to something/someone/their morals/etc in life.

Hybrid time:

Because ofc there’d be some of these. C’mon man. Y’all know it’d happen.

These are referred to as “fallen angels” (hybrid kids who take more after their angel parent), “risen demons” (hybrid kids who take more after their demon parent), or “nephilim” (hybrid kids who are kinda just in-betweens-- or hybrids in gereral).

If they have wings, they’re typically batlike with feathers on the main part of the “limb,” and darker colored. there’s absolutely exceptions to this tho!

If they have tails, they’re usually short, or lack embellishments on the end such as stingers/barbs/etc (they can have your typical devil’s arrowhead tho!).

Black and white might be cliche here, but there’s definitely a color clash somewhere in their design. Opposing/opposite colors often work themselves into their hair/skin/eyes/etc even if one of the colors isn’t on either parent.

The color clash doesn’t have to be loud and obnoxious tho

Since mashing both heavenflames and Hellfire doesn’t work too well, these hybrids are usually left with some sort of regular fire magic, if they get any at all.

They’ve got a really weird diet. aka they eat shadows/darkness. nice. 

They get sick a lot. (their immune systems tend to fight themselves-- its not a fun time)

Aside from the drawbacks, they do get some added abilities!!! So it’s not all terrible!!!

They’re actually chill around lots of both dark and regular magic. It doesn’t hurt them.

Since their existence kinda breaks the world a bit, they can create and slip through cracks into the afterlife realm, and travel back n forth. This takes a chunk of energy, tho, so they don’t tend to do it more than a couple times a week (if at all)

Some of them can turn invisible.

They can heal fatal wounds.

They’ve got the power of inhuman shrieking AND demonic screeching on their side- AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

(aka they can get Really Loud™ and break glass or shatter people’s eardrums. Fun stuff)

So y’know how angels eat light and demons eat dark magic sometimes? Yea well these guys eat darkness sometimes. Wild.

Poison doesn’t work on them.

Cool stuff aside, these guys are pretty rare. And not bc of forboden romance or whatever, angels and demons just hardly ever cross paths.

[tumblunni]

I had a kinda weird but nice daydream last night. It was more of a daydream cos i was concious enough for it to make a little sense, but also drowsy enough that its a bit more incoherant and Edgy than my usual oc thoughts

I just got the sudden strong imagery of a guy walking through a destroyed town and all the dead people blossoming back to life as he passes

And i kinda thought a backstory for him maybe? He's an alchemist who devoted himself so much to honing his craft that he used himself as a test subject for all the most dangerous and heretical experiments and is now barely human anymore. One detail i could remember is that he had empty eye sockets that glowed, and sometimes spurted out into huge gushing tendrils of blue flame that twined around his head and wiggled like antennae. They'd kinda replaced his entire nervous system so if he wiggled them he could just sense all the facts about an object. Spirit sight or something? And probably some cool singular claw arm in a lopsided frankenstein aesthetic or something. Basically he's nothing more than Pure Poison Itself vaguely wrapped in a human shell. Like an undead look but more like a boneless husk whose skin has turned to cracked porcelain.

The backstory behind him making so many sacrifices for science is that his mum died of the plague when he was a vvery young child and he wants to become the world's best doctor who can save everyone from meeting the same fate. And he actually achieved his goal of defeating death itself, even if all he could do was turn himself into such an abomination that he can never die. Now he's travelling the earth trying to save people even though theyre all scared of him, while also trying to figure out which mixture of the million experiments he did on himself finally achieved this result.

I think maybe he can sorta partially manage to ressurect people? Like they come back as ghosts or skeletons or vampires or something. And he's all weeping with guilt that he's sentenced them to the same monsterous life as him but then a little kid hugs him for bringing her mom back. *sniff*

Also i think maybe he has a kid sidekick that he's sorta adopted as a little sibling? They were one of his earlier attempts to raise the dead, and they got ostracized by their parents for being unholy and stuff. So he adopted them, but he's always trying to find another family that can adopt them cos he feels like he isnt good enough. Also, ghost dog!! He accidentally spilled his magically-charged abomination blood onto his childhood pet's ashes and it came back in a spooply form! I just imagined his sheer unrestrained joy and weeping as the lil guy immediately recognises its owner all grown up and jumps up all happy like YOURE TALL NOW HEY HEY LETS PLAY! This poor dude needs a little relief from his angsty life honestly. I imagine him just running around super 100% hyperactive happy with this little pupper and adoptive sibling who's never seen him not being grumpy and sad is like "oh my god he's been replaced by aliens"

ALSO!! I WAS THINKING!! YES!! THE MUM DOES COME BACK!!

I was thinking that probably using his imperfect ressurection power costs a lot of his energy and he has a problem with being so self sacrificing he always ruins his health for the sake of others. He's like 'well i cant stay dead so i may as well die as many times as possible to help people'. Him coming home riddled with arrows and collapsing into a bloody pile at his sibling's feet and then in the morning when he's still stuck in bed sleeping off the enormous pain he cant understand what his sibling is upset about. Like he has no value in himself because he's so guilty that he hasnt finished the ultimate panacea yet. Disregarding the fact that nobody even asked him to, and he's already done so much to help so many peopke!! TAKE CARE O YOU SELF, BRO!!

Anyway, where was i?

Oh yeah! Well i was thinking maybe he was doing some mass healing in a town somewhere. Cos oh yeah even his regular cures for stuff are still made with his own blood. He's like a walking vessel for every poison ever made in this world or the worlds beyond. ELDRITCH ASPIRIN MAN! oh actually it could be a cool aesthetic to have him all bandaged up like an edgy anime character

WHERE WAS I

Oh yeah! Well he's super mega exhausted from expending all of his magical energy and working until the crack of dawn. So he's stumbling home down the same usual route, but he passes out halfway there. And then he wakes up to see his mother tucking him into bed and bringing chicken soup. Like "I DUNNO IF IT WORKS FOR MAGICAL SICKNESS I AM VERY CONFUSED OKAY" Turns out that just by pure coincidence he'd accidentally found the spot where the mass grave for plague victims was made back in the day. And he's extra super mega sick now cos he subconciously reached out to their souls and ressurected them in his sleep. And he's just weeping so much cos he thought he'd never find her and he's guilty he subjected her to a life of being an undead monster too, and he's like 'dont look at me ive changed so much you must be ashamed' and just MAXIMUM EMOTION OKAY!! And also 'oof ouch my everything' cos flailing around panicness aint good in your condition, dude!

So big happysad reunion and him having the longest most peaceful nap he's had in years, lost in distant memories of her reading him bedtime stories as a child. (Maybe even wakes up as she's reading a bedtime story to little sib, and gets so emotional he wakes them up with his sobbing?) And its not all perfect, there's a bit of a rift in the way of just being perfevt family again cos well its been so long and he's grown up and its basically like meeting a new person and starting over. Yet also with all the pressure of knowing how things used to be and being terrified of messing up. ALSO there are like fifty other zombies walking around outside confused as fuck! I think maybe the mum becomes the new mayor of a weird little shanty town that springs up overnight and the neighbours are all like 'what do we do with suddenly acquiring a new trade route with another city state' and also 'AAA ZOMBIES'. Complex futures await out heroes! But i have faith that this little awkward family will make it work!!!

[ohgoddard]

Those Loyal Dogs.2.

Carmichael slept soundly in his bed, only happy thoughts floating about his head. His numerous cuts and bruises that usually swelled and caused him discomfort decided to take a break this night, providing him with some much needed sleep. And though his thoughts were majority happy, the weight of what he knew slumped mightily in his mind. Almost enough to tear him from his soft satin sheets and try and solve the unsolvable conundrum in his mind, or otherwise try and speed up the over moving constant speed of time. For what he had learned has kept him up for countless nights already. Truth be told, he would not be awake now if not for the pills Jin had put in his food and recently heat-dried sheets that his first-mate Cerri had just laid out. 

Carmichael knew that the crew was getting worried at his countless nights awake, staring into the burnt and barely legible journal that the old orc they found floating in the wastes clutched in his hands. He barely found a moment’s respite away from it, often calling out his name. The Orc himself, the figure that Carmichael believed to be his dad, has been very quiet and not awake for more than a few hours at a time. They always mumbled one thing or another about a gnome and some human, a snake person, worms, a cathedral, and an angel. But mostly he stared into the wall, hollow eyes brought by terror and fear. Carmichael wanted to be down there every minute, but he knew it was not the right thing. The poor orc was torn from death’s grasp, so obviously there would be a period of time until they would be able to speak like  a normal person. Like his dad. However, his natural instincts fought against his ever growing anxiety and fear that would have caused him to leap to the bedside or journal, and kept him strapped into his bed. He slumbered for the first time in weeks.

Cerri threw open his door with such velocity that, if people bursting into his room not been a common thing and he had gotten a much sturdier door, would have shattered the hinges.

“SIR!” she shouted, finally stirring the captain from his sleep. The half-orc woke with a start, his baggy eyes fuzzily coming into focus on his dark-elf first-mate. After being awoken in such a harsh manner, his analytical mind took over and her scanned the whole area while reaching for the sword behind his bed.

His room was still the same, he was still on his normal bed. His desk was untouched, he saw no ship outside his window… His eyes went to Cerri. She was dressed as nice as ever. Rough brown pants, fluffy white shirt with a simple red coat she stole from a Royal Naval Marine. Her silvery hair was tied into a long but comfortable pony-tail thrown over her shoulder, with her red eyes looking at him confused. Her mouth was moving, maybe she was saying something?

I always forget how nice she looks.

“Captain?! Hello?!” she shouted, shaking Carmichael from his stupor. He shook his head, trying to orient himself. “Ah! Yes, sorry. Got a bit-” “Were you checking me out again?” Her eyebrows raised a bit, as if not fully sure of what she said herself. Carmichael stood from his bed, still fully dressed from when he went to sleep. “What? No. Never. I would never.”  His stammering was all that she needed to reaffirm her suspicions. Cerri’s confused look was replaced with one of playful teasing. “You dog, you so were! Why, that is so unbecoming of a great captain as yourself!” She crossed her arms over her chest, speaking in a teasing manner. As Carmichael hurriedly put his own coat on, doing his best to hide his face from her.  “Really though sir, I cannot blame you. I am quite the drow.” A small giggle escaped her as the sentence closed.“We can talk about my manners later, Cerri. What was it so important you had to run in here and wake me up?” She is observant, but never to the matters at hand. So what if I looked at her for a really long time and forgot why she came in here? I do that to everyone. I think.

Cerri snapped into the worried attention she stormed into the room with, suddenly remembering her excuse for invading wildly into her favorite captain’s room. “AH! Yes, um. Drokgar just got back from his trip from one of the worlds. He just got back in through the portal with the target. And well, the target is not pleased. You are needed in the hull where the target is...now. Drokgar is in the med bay.” Carmichael spun on his heels. “DROKGAR IS WHERE?!” Cerri sidestepped out the door way, barely seconds before Carmichael ran through it. The gust of wind that followed nearly knocked her on her butt, but she held on to the door frame as she saw the captain run down the hallways of sleeping sailors in hammocks and down the stairs.

“What’s gotten into him?” Cerri heard Jin’s voice before she saw him, walking just into view holding a small mug with a dark black substance. As Cerri moved out of the doorway and into the hall, closing the door behind her, she took the mug right out of Jin’s hands and downed the whole thing. Jin looked on in amazement. After she swallowed she looked in amazement at Jin herself. “Jin, its not even 8 a.m. What in the divines name are you doing drinking stout?!” The poor AI just kinda looked on in awe still, as he was surprised the dark elf was still standing before him. “That.. had an alcohol per volume amount of 15%! How are you standing?! It was to my knowledge very few organics could even-”

 “Jin,” she cut him off ,”why were you drinking hard liquor this early?” 

“I was bringing it to the captain, its his usual wake up drink for the past few weeks.”

Cerri sighed deeply, dragging a face-palm. “From now on, bring him water. Only, water. If he has a problem, tell him its on my orders.” Jin nodded before walking off down a separate hallway, presumably the cantina. Cerri herself began to walk down the hull, they were going to need all the help they could get until the captain got back from the med bay. I swear, she thought to herself, if he doesn’t take it easy on this it’s going to kill him. He needs to remember we are a pirate crew. We work for money. Who cares if a few realities die? There are actually infinite. What about us? His crew? Jin?....Me? She pushed those thoughts away for now. He always has us in his mind. He cares. But this..its dangerous. He doesn’t know what hes up against.

=====================================================================

Carmichael made it to the med bay, an informal term given to a few beds in a spare room where they just so happen to keep all the medicine they find. Most sailors just drink and bandage themselves, lying in their hammocks after a particularly tough raid. They really only come here when they're sick, which isn't often on the weird vitamin filled meals Jin cooks for everyone. Right now though, it was empty save for the Captain and the lead physician. It is worth noting that the lead physician, Drokgar, was lying on one of the beds with the largest pile of ice over his right eye.

“Aye told ye before ‘n I’ll tell ye again, I’m fine Carmichael!” Drokgar looked evry roughed up, so it was easy to discount this. His glasses were broken, his clothes torn, and blood was dripping down from the cut on the huge lump above his eye. “You do not look fine, Drokgar. What on the divines purple skies did this to you?!” The gnome sighed before his captain, and leaned back into the small pile of pillows he had collected behind him. “Not a what, Captain. A ‘who’. The man ye told me to go nab, another one of your ‘not fathers’. He did not take kindly to me taking him away from the people he was traveling with. A gnome, some angel. A drow.”

At the mention of these part members, Carmichael connected them to the mumblings of the other orc they had picked up, the one the crew has been jokingly referred to as “The Professor” for his tweed pants. Could there be a connection?

“Yup,” Drokgar continued, “he put up quite the fight before I managed to put the clamp on him and through ‘em through the tear. He got one hit on me, and Carmichael it was just a graze. Cuz if it was a real hit i’d be dead!” The gnome laughed heartily after this, before turning into a rough cough and stopping. “Oh gods, yeah he did also kick me with a lil peg leg of his and it got me in me ribs. Gonna be a bit ‘o rest fore I can be on my duties again. Im gonna take the next ‘extraction’ mission out.  I mean I loved the research and all, the looking up of people via memories and messin with them, but i’m a tad bit past my adventurin days. Maybe send Cerri, she’s been beggin to go out. Maybe Lionel, eh? He’s a newbie but-”

Carmichael cut him off by quickly leaning in and hugging him. The gnome let out a little gasp of surprise and slight pain before slowly hugging the half-orc back. “I’m just glad you're back.”

 “Ah, don’t you worry son. Gonna take a lot more than one unruly and crotchety orc to get me! Hell, when he calms down I bet he and I will be good friends!”

Carmichael made sure Drokgar was nice and comfortable before leaving, blowing out the lantern on his way out. He’s right. I don’t know why I thought I could just take people, especially people like my dad, by force and then send a gnome. An old gnome at that. Good thing he’s a quick guy. I thought he could at least talk to him, but that must not have worked.

These thoughts kept in his head, alongside the comments of the gnome and the angel. It could be that these are the same that the ‘The Professor’ mentioned in his murmurings? Perhaps next time he is awake he can talk to him about them.  Such thoughts were immediately thrown out of Carmichael’s head when he felt the shaking down the hall. An inconsistent shaking, one that shook the entire floor. And it was a loud, slamming noise. And the shouting did not make this noise any less worrying. 

“WE NEED MORE ROPE!!” “WHERE’S THE RUNES?!” “SOMEONE GET THE CAPTAIN!”

“CERRI HOLD THE-” Another loud smash, the sound of metal on metal. Carmichael ran down the hallway, turning the corner into the brig. The room, usually looking like nothing more than a wooden jail cell with iron bars, now had a sole occupant of a large steel box. Said steel box had about seven people around it, hastily attempting to tie it down via chains and ropes. Among them was Cerri, who ducked at the last second to avoid a dent that suddenly formed in the box.

The box was covered in these dents, huge divots in steel that stretched the tension of its strength. It looks like it was covered in huge spikes, the number of these divots being in the dozens. Another loud crash and the captain saw another huge divot shootout from the metal box. It took the shape of the huge fist that caused it, and it was accompanied by an angry yell.

“WHERE AM I?! WHERE IS THAT DAMN GNOME?! WHERE ARE MY DEPUTIES?!”

Carmichael stood there before the towering steel box, now recognizing that these are all [i] fistmarks. “Jesus christ, just what kinda person did Drokgar bring back?!” A sailor yelled out as a steel fist collided with his face, sending him flying into the wooden walls behind him. Cerri lept back at the last second to avoid the same fate. “FALL BACK!” she yelled to the remaining sailors by the box. She turned her head to see the captain had arrived and flashed a smile of relief. “Thank the divines you’re here! We couldn’t hold him any longer, I think he broke the band Drokgar put on him.” The box shook again, more divots coming out. Carmichael drew his sword, the enchanted rapier known as Giant’s Needle. “Sailors!” he yelled, “retreat behind me and Cerri! Be prepared to give the alarm!” He did not need to tell them twice, the men and women quickly retreating behind their Captain and First Mate. 

Their retreat could not be better timed, as this time the punch wen through the box. A huge green fist punctured the steel enclosure, peeling like paper. Soon another fist came right behind it, and Carmichael could see into the darkness a pair of yellow eyes staring out. The hands retracted, and began to tear the box apart, opening it up like a wrestler on stage. Stepping through the huge hole, stood a towering orc. Carmichael went into analytical mode.

He noticed the orc was shorter and smaller than he expected. The memories that Drokgar showed him revealed a general that could kill multiple demigods with a single hook. This could be said general, but many many years past their prime. He noticed the missing leg, replaced with a crude make-shift prosthetic made out of pipes and gun springs. The orc’s white and grey hair confirmed the old age, but everything else went away from that theory. He was still massive. His biceps, while not like a young orc, were still bigger than Carmichael’s head. And the orc was angry. 

He lowered himself into a boxing-style fight stance, glowering at the dark elf and half-orc in front of him. “You have one minute to tell me where I am, and where my deputies are. Or else I will bear down on you the entirety of my strength and lawful ability.”  A sailor, brave or stupid, came running out from behind the Captain. Carmichael was too slow in stopping him, the sailor too quick and their clubbed weapon drawn. It wasn’t even a laughable ‘fair’ fight. The orc sent a quick jab into the sailor’s stomach, them falling to the floor.  Carmichael didn’t even see his fist move. This must have been a surprise to the orc too, as he glanced at his own fist in shock for a short while. But if anything this made him bolder. He readied his stance again.

“I am going to ask one more time. What did you do with my deputies?” Carmichael raised his sword. He was not looking forward to this fight. “We have not touched them,” he began to say, his eyes darting to the gold star resting on the orc’s shirt,“ Mr.Sheriff. We have only taken you. And it was for a good reason too.” The orc began to growl.

“You better give it quick. I owe them my life, multiple times over. I will not let you kill me until I repay my gnome friend.”

But just as he was about to open his mouth, Carmichael was distracted by another lumbering noise. The orc noticed this too, as his eyes followed the Captain’s. Walking down the hallway, perhaps awoken by the noise, was The Professor. His hair was still messed up. His glasses crooked on his face, and he was wrapped in a blanket. To everyone’s surprise, he was moving. And it was this shock that allowed him to enter the big, unopposed. So now, standing in the brig in front of the Captain and a first mate who left to go yell at the fool who let The Professor out of bed, were two orcs.

Who looked exactly the same.

“Did”, The Professor spoke in his deep voice, raspy from disuse, “you mention a gnome?”

The Sheriff eyed up the disheveled academic man before him, noting that he was much bigger than he. “Yes, so what?”

“Did you know a gnome named Kevi?” The Sheriff became still. Unmoving.

“Yes..I did.” The Professor looked on the other orc with a blank look, but his soft blue eyes began to come into focus a bit more. “And a snake named Asmodeus? And a human named Samuel? An angel named Kazfiel?” The Sheriff dropped his guard entirely. His arms fell to his side, as he looked into the face of himself.

“I..I did. Yes.”

The Professor looked into the eyes of himself too, then let his blanket drop to the floor. He leaned forward and hugged himself. “Please tell me...please tell me they are ok. I started all of this. Everything… Please tell me I did not kill him. Please..”

And the Sheriff, shocked at the sudden embracement, just stood there for a minute. The soft sobs of The Professor made the only noise. Carmichael watched on with intense focus, not feeling the tears welling in his eyes. The other orc gently put his arms around The Professor, and held him closely. “Yeah.. you didn’t kill them. You didn’t kill them. It’s not your fault.”

The other orc looked up from The Professor, at Carmichael in the doorway.

“Are they safe?” Carmichael nodded.

“Buddy, you and I need to have a talk after this. For now, call me Hiram. I need to catch my friend here up on a lot of things.”

[boystownbirdie]

LMWTV4U: GOT S7E1

Welcome back to let me watch TV 4 U (LMWTV4U) where I watch TV shows so you don’t have to! If you’re not a GoT-watcher or you just need a review, check out my pre-season-6-GoT primer here or you can just check out the review/recap of the last ep of season 6 here

It’s GoT season 7 y’all- WHO’S EXCITED?

As always, spoiler alert. Also, I’m introducing a new segment of this blog called WHY DOES THIS SCENE EVEN MATTER or (WDTSEM?) to help us decipher when some seemingly unimportant or otherwise boring scenes actually do kind of matter. So watch for that. Now let’s get into it! 

Over in Frey-ville/ Riverlands...

So we open on Walder Frey (aka Argus Filch from Harry Potter) giving a toast to a bunch of his people, all of whom have to wear inexplicably weird hats that seem to serve no purpose. Off the bat we know something is up because Arya Stark, fresh from the face-swapping-assassin-training academy, definitely killed Filch in the last ep of season 6. He’s gathered up all of his hat-wearing friends and family and is like hey guys, here’s some NOT POISONED wine let’s have a toast. It’s pretty obvious it’s Arya doing a really good impersonation of Filch/ wearing his face, especially when he doesn’t even pretend to take a sip of his wine. He’s all, hey remember when we killed all those Stark people, especially the mom and the hottie son, Robb and his preggers wife? That was fun, right? And all the poisoned guys are like yep murder is fun you are correct. Then he’s like too bad you didn’t kill all the Starks cuz one is still alive and…. It’s ME BITCHES. 

And she rips off Filches’ face/body and is like SURPRISE! And because this is the season of the woman, she doesn’t let any of the poor servant girls (who were like 15 years old and all forced to marry Filch) drink any of wine but she’s like, I know this is confusing, because I was just wearing the face and body of your former husband but it’s me, a fellow 15-year old girl and please tell everyone THE NORTH REMEMBERS. (If you’ll recall the Stark fam is from the North and a bunch of them died at the red wedding which was FOREVER AGO)

Later in the ep, we catch up with Arya who is riding around on a horse like a boss when she happens upon ED SHEERAN. SERIOUSLY ED SHEERAN IS IN THIS EPISODE WHY? I DON’T KNOW. And he’s singing a song with some soldier bros, duh. And I guess they’re from the Lannister army (if you’ll recall the Lannisters are the incest twins) because they’re wearing their colors and they’re like ugh King’s Landing (where Queen Pixie Cut aka QPC is currently ruling after blowing up most of the city) is the worst. And Arya is like umm ya it sucks, last time I was there I saw my dad get his head chopped off, BUMMER. She doesn’t say that actually but she does listen to them talk about how they wished they were home with their family instead of fighting for QPC. 

WHY DOES THIS SCENE EVEN MATTER (WDTSEM)? This scene is pretty clearly a setup to get Arya to consider meeting up with her bro (well actually uncle) and sis in Winterfell rather than her current single-minded pursuit of killing QPC. Anyway, the strangest thing about this scene is that one of the bros is like ya my mom always said to be kind to others and they’ll be kind to you and also none of the bros say anything murder-y or even slightly assault-y for that matter toward this young girl traveling alone WHAT SHOW IS THIS? On any other season of GoT this scene would have been a literal bloodbath.

Sidenote: when the opening credits run we FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER only see Westeros rather than both sides of the globe (or is it a globe? Idk. g.r.r.r.r.r. Martin plz advise) cuz our Khween Khaleesi is no longer residing there.

Next, let’s check in up North with Bran and his pal Meera who recently narrowly escaped a zombie attack only to be rescued by his zombie-uncle.

Bran is having a vision, as he is wont to do, of the “Night King” (zombie leader guy) plus thousands of zombies marching toward the non-zombie world. Some of them are even zombie giants which is super spooky. He’s like let’s GTFO and get south of this giant ice wall so they coming a-knocking on the ice-wall-door which, if you’ll recall is manned by all those moody celibate dudes that Bae was briefly murdered by before coming back from the dead. Bae’s friend who is in charge now is like umm new phone who dis cuz IDK what “Brandon Stark” looks like but it’s probably not you. And he and his friend Meera are like we promise, we’re cool and they let them in.

WDTSEM? Bran and Meera’s next stop after passing through TSA security is probably to see his sis and bro at his home, Winterfell. Last time that poor boi was there he was paralyzed, briefly made leader, ousted, forced to watch the whole place burn down and then had to escape before he was killed. So needless to say he’ll be happy to see that it’s not only rebuilt and no longer a torture dungeon, but being ruled by his fam! AND he’s the only one who knows the truth about Bae the R+L=J theory so he needs to drop that bomb on erry’body that basically means that Bae is kind of a rightful ruler and also Khaleesi’s nephew?!?

Speaking of his home, let’s check in with Winterfell...

Bae (Jon Snow) is like wow being in charge is hard no wonder Obama turned gray lol-is-this-thing-on? And Sansa is like eye-roll and they have a little tiff in front of everyone which is EMBARRASSING. A few important things happen here: 

Bae tells everyone to dig for dragonglass cuz it’s the only way to kill the zombies. He’s like hey bois, gurls, gender-non-comforming-individuals, EVERYONE needs to get to work and dig and learn to fight

Everyone’s favorite pint-sized-ruler-of-Bear-Island, Lyanna Mormont, is all about that lyfe, as shown in gif above

Bae is like wow little kids are pretty good at being in charge so let’s put these other 2 lil’ squirts in charge over at their houses

Bae sends hottie-ginger-wildling-bae to guard part of the wall where the zombies are probably heading first. Goodbye ginger-bae. 

Sansa does not agree with the putting-kids-in-charge bit which is what they argue about but he does it anyway. They kind of makeup and then they talk about how Cersei (aka Queen Pixie Cut aka QPC) is in charge now and Sansa is like she cray but also a BAMF. 

Later we get a scene of Brienne, everyone’s fave lady-knight, training her squire how to fight and are reminded that ginger-bae has the hots for her. As Sansa watches this all play out, Littlefinger (ugh he is the WORST) comes over to tell Sansa for the 80th time that he loves her and wants to rule the world with her. And as she has done 80 times, she’s like NO THANKS DUDE. 

Speaking of Queen Pixie Cut (QPC) let’s check in on her over at King’s Landing…

QPC is ruling whatever is left of her people after she blew most of them up. She commissioned this giant map/painting on the ground and is stompin’ all around like she owns the place, which, to be fair, she does. Her twin bro/lover, Jamie, comes over and is like ummm… what’s the tea? Remember how our last living kid jumped out of a building and died last season… can we discuss? And she’s literally like yolo we gotta rule this place FOR US. And he’s like but we don’t have any heirs anymore, like who’s gonna take over after that you can’t #liveforever this ain’t the high school cafeteria in the film version of Fame. She’s like dontcha worry, I gotta plan.

So Theon’s crazy uncle shows up to see them. If you’ll recall last season, he killed his bro and then tried to become king of the wet-rock-pile by throwing up a bunch of sea water even though his niece, Theon’s sis, was totes supposed to become kween of her peeps. While he was performing his water-gagging-magic-trick, Theon and his sis ran away with a bunch of the peeps and all of the ships. Again, their entire island seemed to have about 20 people so WHO IS ON THOSE SHIPS? IDK. And he was like NBD I’ll make a bunch more ships AGAIN WHO IS BUILDING AND THEN RIDING ON THESE SHIPS IDK. So I guess the ships are built and people must be on them because they show up to QPC’s shores and she’s like whatup. Jamie is NOT HAVING IT mostly because he is jelly since Theon’s crazy uncle (TCU) is hittin on his sis. TCU manages to squeeze in a really sick burn when he’s like well at least I have 2 working hands (Jamie got one chopped off 3 seasons ago) and then he asks QPC to get with him. She’s like naw dawg so he’s like NBD I’ll be back with a “very special present” and heads off. They also banter about how his niece and nephew and Khaleesi and QPC’s other bro (Tyrion) have all teamed up and are headed that way.

WDTSEM? In the books, apparently TCU has some sort of magic horn that can call dragons? I think this might be the gift he’s going to get and bring back to QPC which would be CLUTCH because in the upcoming battle against Khaleesi, the ability to control those dragons would be really helpful.

Next, let’s see how Sam is doing over in “Oldtown” where all the maesters live...

If you’ll recall, Maesters are like doctors/librarians/historians, each of whom is assigned to either a place (like the ice wall) or a family, I guess (like the Starks). Sam wants to be one but he also is NAUGHTY and brought his gf and her bb with him (Maesters are also supposed to be celibate like the ice wall guys). He’s in maester-training-camp which includes a lot of diarrhea, apparently. He’s like cleaning bedpans, putting back library books, and doing autopsies on the reg. JIM BROADBENT aka Prof. Slughorn from HP aka Harold from Moulin Rouge shows up and is like DON’T GO IN THE RESTRICTED SECTION OF THE LIBRARY, SAM (flashes of Harry Potter, amirightladies?) so of course Sam does. He sneaks some books home and finds out that “Dragonstone” which is a castle near King’s Landing that Khaleesi is heading towards, is built on top of heaps of “dragonglass” (which, I mean, could have guessed) so he’s like I gotta tell Bae since I know bb boi is trying to stock up on that. Also, there’s a brief scene when Khaleesi’s friend who had the turning-to-stone-disease (Stoney) is like in a hospital where Sam is working and is pops his stone-hand out and is like IS SHE HERE YET? Aka Stoney wants to know if Khaleesi has made it to Dragonstone yet, which WAIT TIL THE END OF THE EPISODE, DUDE.

WDTSEM? Especially the scene with Jim Broadbent (JB) is important because he talks about how the ice wall has always held up after centuries of zombie attacks and how empires rise and fall and just like go with the flow, Sam. My guess is that they’re bringing up how strong the ice wall is and how unlikely a zombie-attack really is because this is something that may actually happen now so we can really grasp how high the stakes are nowadays.

Before we get to Khaleesi, we have to check in on “The Hound” who’s walking around with those fire-worshipping dudes these days…

Is it just me or is man-bun guy kinda hot? So he and “The Hound” come across this farm house which the Hound is having some guilt about b/c last time he was in the hood he killed the girl and her dad who lived there. They find their bodies and everyone is like IDK who killed them but ugh… that’s life. And then the fire-worshipper-guys are like here look at this fire and remember the Hound hates fire because he got half of his face burned off as a kid. But he does look at the fire and has like a premonition of zombies going around the ice wall and attacking all the living people. Then he and hottie man bun bury the dead girl and her dad outside because the Hound feels #guilty for killing them I guess?

WDTSEM? Well the Hound used to be really murder-y but then he was saved by Ian McShane and his group of like Amish people (much like Harrison Ford in the film Witness) and decided to renounce violence. He used to work for QPC’s family and then kind of kidnapped Arya but also was not the worst to her (or to her sister for that matter) so if shit’s going down he could potentially be on the Stark side of things now. 

Lastly, we check in with everyone’s fave kween and co, Khaleesi, who rolls up on Dragonstone with all her pals…

She hasn’t been to this side of the world since she was a wee babe so when she steps foot on the sand, she’s like give me a minute y’all. Then she walks into the castle and looks at the throne, which is NOT made of a bunch of swords but rather a slab of rock and is still pretty baller and walks right past it to head to the room with the giant map on it. Previously, Stannis and his friends lived there including sweet ole’ no-knuckles who is currently #teambae and he spent a lot of time strategizing and having sex with witches to produce demon babies on that table. Khaleesi looks around and then is like, let’s get it started in here #blackeyedpeas.  

WDTSEM? Well, duh, cuz Khaleesi is in it and she is basically the Beyonce of GoT. But also because she has had this single-minded pursuit on the iron throne (chair made of swords where QPC is currently sitting) so you’d think she’d like take a minute to sit on this rock-slab-throne and savor the moment, but she (unlike QPC) knows that a true kween not only sits there, but also gets shit done. And I think this scene is supposed to contrast how #woke Khaleesi is compared to QPC. Both have giant maps and thrones now, but QPC is so out of touch that she has no time for strategy or listening to other people’s advice. 

Final thoughts:

This ep was what the TV people call a “table setting” episode and it did just that. The drawback is that it was pretty boring. We just check in on all of our key players/places and see how everyone is doing which is normally quite helpful in GoT world. But the season 6 finale already did that for us, so it seems to be just an extension of that episode rather than something new and exciting. Now on to our superlatives...

Biggest surprise this ep: Sam is interning for JIM BROADBENT these days, which is pretty great. Also Ed Sheeran lives in GoT-world I guess which actually explains a lot.

Biggest letdown: We only get THREE WHOLE WORDS from Khaleesi in the entire ep!

Important fashion moments: Sansa’s new lacefront is NOT working for her. With this budget you’d think they could afford better wigs! Also, while I won’t miss the Mereen subplot, I will miss Khaleesi and co being in a warmer climate because she and her friends had some killer crop tops/ cut out dresses/ bright colors . Now that everyone is on the cold side of the world, we have much less #fashun.

Who died this ep? A bunch of Walder Frey’s main cronies

Check in next week when we’re promised someone will finally be strangling littlefinger so we may be rid of his creepy soliloquies soon! Thanks for reading tell your friends!

CORRECTION: After checking my sources, it seems like the Hound maybe didn’t kill the farmer dude and his daughter but instead stole their shit and so they were forced into the dire circumstances that led them to their death. So while it sounds like he didn’t kill them, he still feels guilty that he basically caused their deaths.

Also, I incorrectly ID’ed Bae as Khaleesi’s uncle a few times but actually she is his aunt I guess? Sorry to lead you astray! 

[chimtaera]

imagine CEO kim seokjin.

you have the most handsome boss in all of creation, good luck.

first things first, kim seokjin is heir to one of the great business empires on his side of the planet.

for the moment though he’s just managing a few of the smaller branches as well as all the charities and his passion project, a moderately successful chain of restaurants.

you find work in one of these aforementioned branches, filling in as his secretary when his PA needs time off to care for their sick mother.

and he’s so stressed and busy he doesn’t even notice until around lunchtime when he bursts out of his office in a frenzy.

“assistant choi! you’re not assistant choi. where’s assistant choi?”

you remind him and he’s like “oops, i thought that was next week.”

because he can manage twelve charities and two businesses at once, he can clothe and feed himself because he’s a big boy, but he can’t organise anything. that’s what he needs you for.

also he can’t tie a tie properly.

he probably went to harvard business school, but he can’t tie a tie for shit. it’s always askew or crumpled or something, so you look knots up online because you’re just itching to fix it for him.

but you don’t actually approach him with the offer for a while, that would be inappropriate. instead you wait for him to tie it himself and ultimately fail, before you offer your help.

he accepts gratefully, and watches you concentrate in the agitating piece of cloth as if an angel just descended to save him from drowning.

later he admits that was when he knew he would fall in love with you.

and after that, whenever he has an important meeting to attend, you gotta fix his tie for him. it’s like ur lil ritual, and it helps him calm down and prepare.

sometimes he neglects to eat though. 

like when he’s trying to stay on top of events and important paperwork and running back and forth between meetings and you start to wonder if you should be organising meals for him as well.

he works so hard you end up feeling like you can’t just leave him alone in his office even if the work day is technically over, so you sit around answering emails as you wait for him to dismiss you.

eventually you just Go For It and order a bunch of food in, not knowing what he likes, because you’re hungry too dangit.

so at like 7pm you knock softly and ask him is it okay if you bring him something to eat.

kim seokjin could cry at that moment, but also he’s like “wait, you’re still here? why are you still here?”

you recite him his dinner options and by the end he’s almost visibly drooling.

“that sound amazing, do i have to choose?”

“well, one of them was for me.”

“which one?”

“whichever you didn’t want.”

“can’t we just share all of it?”

and so you and your new boss end up sitting across from one another on his plush expensive carpet, and have a virtual take-out feast.

and you’re both exhausted so you know he’s killing it with the dad jokes and his windshield wiping laughter just makes everything ten times funnier. lbr you probably peed yourself a little.

it’s late when you finally leave, so he drives you home.

the drive is nice and quiet and before you know it you’ve fallen asleep.

also you don’t know this but he was parked outside your house for like ten minutes before he mustered up the courage to wake you, like “ok we’re here!!!! hahahaha,,ha,,,ha,,,,, ah”

weeks pass, and jin’s dad is constantly piling more responsibility on him, which means more branches, which means jin has to travel more, and he takes you with him because he’s useless without you.

and you two are just so comfortable around each other from the start ??

but more importantly you really enjoy one another’s company and are constantly drawn together.

so eventually, always eating room service together turns into always spending time in the same room, which turns into eventually only booking one room with separate beds.

because more money saved is more money to charity. 

right? 

right ????

and guess what. 

eventually the hotel fucks up, but everything is so hectic you don’t even notice until it’s too late and you come back from a conference at night to find you only have one bed.

whoopsie daisy~

honestly though you’re both so exhausted because you flew in early that morning, jin falls asleep with all his clothes on and you don’t even care and pass out beside him like two minutes later.

when you wake however, he has shrugged out of his blazer and you’re snuggled up to him, head tucked beneath his chin, cheek pressed against his chest. 

to save you the embarrassment he pretends he’s still asleep while you untangle yourself. but breakfast is still awkward as heck to say the least, and he lowkey won’t stop smiling to himself the entire time.

and every time you attend a charity event with him everyone assumes you’re dating because you’re always laughing together and they’re used to seeing him with assistant choi. 

and one time he mishears someone asking if you’re his date and he says yes so you run with it and link your arm through his and call him pet names and he goes sO red and stutters and it’s worth all the death glares he sends you the rest of the night.

after that he’s kinda tense and weird and you end up apologising for your behaviour because that was very unprofessional of you and you crossed a line and you really need this job please don’t fire me.

and as you arrive back at the hotel he’s like “yeah, it’s cool, whatever, i need a drink.”

and you’re like “idk about you but there’s a minibar in my room.”

and he just stares at you until you realise what you’ve said and when you die of embarrassment he’s like “now we’re even. goodnight.”

eventually, one fateful evening back at the office, jin completely buckles under the weight of it all and you find him with his head in his hands, papers all over the floor.

he confesses to you how it’s all too much and he doesn’t know how he’s supposed to keep everything together, especially as his responsibilities keep growing and without assistant choi around to help him out.

you spin his chair around to face you and sink down to his level, take his face in your hands and tell him firmly that he’s got this. it’s okay to doubt yourself and to crack under the pressure, but he’s got you and he’s got this and together you’re gonna kick this thing in the ass.

and he laughs and hold your hand, leans in a fraction but hesitates until you tell him he can also kiss you if he wants. 

and he does. 

he kisses you over and over and over until you have expensive carpet burns, wink wonk if you know what i mean.

anyway, nsfw under the cut.

your late nights at the office gets a lot later after that.

because oh bOY imagine gagging jin with his tie when he is being too vocal during his lunch break.

or him gagging you for that matter.

tbh his ties get a workout because he’s constantly getting distracted at work thinking of new and exciting ways to restrain you with it.

you two riling each other up all day.

like he’s got the blinds open and you walk in to drop off a file and just before you leave you lean in and tell him “i wish you would press me up against that glass right now, for everyone to see.”

he goes so red !!!!!!!!!!

and then you just drop the mic (or in this case a pen) and swagger out.

you guys could do this shit all day.

you’ll pretend to drop something so you can bend over for him, or spill something on him so you can lean over and grab him through his slacks.

or you’ll get handsy or even go down on him during a phone meeting, because just imagine the panic in his eyes when his voice cracks.

and he’ll walk right up behind you at your desk and pretend to look over the schedule with you while whispering the most sinful promises and vulgar compliments in your ear.

and sometimes, when he leaves his door open, he’ll just stare at you and take one hand slowly off his desk, and you just know he’s rubbing himself through his trousers and it drives you mad.

and finally, when the last person has left for the day you just fucking tear into each other like you trash his office i feel sorry for the cleaners.

but at the end of the day jin is soft and loving af. 

he adores you and the way you’ll rub yourself eagerly against him on a slow sunday morning.

and he wants to take you to all the best restaurants, or just watch netflix and eat fast food, it doesn’t matter as long as he gets to go down on you at the end of the night.

he just thinks you’re really cute when you squirm.

and you just love to watch him flush.

and so you live happily ever after :’)

[b00bstone]

All the even numbers!

thats a lot. and 72 was repeated twice but i had to renumber them since i copied and pasted adn forgot it was repeated. but anyway. 

2. Are you outgoing or shy?

mostly shy i think but i can be outgoing if im comfortable. 

4 Are you easy to get along with?

not really. i can be quite moody. and i unfortunately have a short temper (which im trying to work on) and im depressed adn suicidal so i think the answer is no. 

6 What kind of people are you attracted to?

smart funny ones. 

8Who from the opposite gender is on your mind?

my friend the nerd because i was talking to them and my friend rabbit earlier. 

10Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with?

probs my therapist since we talked just earlier today.

12What are your 5 favorite songs right now?

1.awkward by hailey knox

2 beautiful girl by sara barielles 

3. plot twist by sigrid

4 waving through a window from dear evan hansen 

and 5. dissapear also from dear evan hansen.

14Do you believe in luck and miracles?

yeah but my luck is shitty and miracles happen to other people. so basically yes but not for me lmao

16Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?

yeah. if she were down. but like shes really straight. so i doubt she would be.

18Do you still talk to your first crush?

occasionally. hes a dick now tho. fraternity guy. and voted for trump.

20Do you like your neighbors?

well the ones i know are pretty cool. 

22Where would you like to travel?

narnia. one of those planets they discovered that are super far away but similar to earth. but like on this planet? probs travel around europe. 

24Favorite part of your daily routine?

going to bed. 

26What do you do when you wake up?

lie there and try to go back to sleep. 

28Who are you most comfortable around?

probs my friend rabbit.

30Do you ever want to get married?

one day yeah. but only if i find the right person u know. 

32Which celebrities would you have a threesome with?

oohhhh ummm hmmm. chris pratt. aubrey plaza and john boyega. i feel like aubrey would bring a sarcastic element which would help with the pressure and nervousness and john and chris. well u can just see in their eyes that theyre really gentle people that will treat u right. 

34do you play sports? What sports?

hahaha no. ive always wanted to dance and/or be on a swimteam. but my lungs hate me

36Have you ever liked someone and never told them?

i think ive only told like 1 or 2 people that ive liked that i liked them. and ive liked a lot of people so yes. i have hidden that i liked someone before. many many times.

38Describe your dream girl/guy?

theyre taller than me. i dunno why but ive always liked wavy/curly hair. not blonde. or brunette. so that leaves unnatural hair color or black or red. good bone structure. theyre really smart. like they know lots of stuff academically but theyre also just generally smart u know. and they know lots of lil random facts about random things. really nice. but not in like a sugar nice way but more like sun beams when it feels like theyre warming u from the inside kinda nice. kind eyes. color doesnt really matter since i keep changing my mind. strong. but not necessarily muscular. i want them to be able to pick me up and twirl me around but not like theyve got a sixpack or anything. sixpacks are kinda weird looking tbh. wed have to have most of the same values. not too talkative but not like ALWAYS quiet. theyd prefer staying in most weekend and watchng shows but dont mind the occassional night out. theyd like the beach. because what kind of crazy person doesnt like the beach (people that dont beach right thats who). theyd also like biking and hiking and swimming. very much an animal person. not lazy. good listener. intuitive. would understand that some days i just cant fucking stand physical touch. and others i crave it in a way ive never craved anything before. and other days its kinda meh whatever. people that take interest in what im interested in because im interested in it. and whose interests are cool. because i love to take interest in things my friends are interested in but sometimes its so boring. nothing particular comes to mind. but im sure its happened. someone who doesnt check up on me when im crying. because tbh i hate it when people do that. unless its through texting or a phone call. but like people in person asking “are u ok?” while im sobbing my eyes out? fuck no go away. someone who understands that im really fucking bad with words. and sometimes me trying to say something will take a while and it may not make sense. theyd be patient. they wouldnt mock me. or be manipulative. and i think this list is long enough.

40What do you want to do after high school?

travel the world and end up famous, but not like papparazzi following me famous. famous like i appear on snl every once in a while and drop bangers or rad filsm or whatever i do and thats all.  what will i probs end up doing? crying a lot and going to community college. and applying to as many colleges as i have the energy to. 

42If your being extremely quiet what does it mean?

it might mean im busy. or just listening. or really pissed off. or upset. or just have nothing to say. 

44Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean?

space. 

46What are you paranoid about?

everything

48Have you ever been drunk?

not yet. but sometimes i want to be

50What was the colour of the last hoodie you wore?

blue i think?

52 One thing you wish you could change about yourself?

everything. but like one specific thing? id like to get rid of my depression, fears, and this brain fog that haunts me

.54 Favourite store?

trader joes or target

56Favourite color?

yellow

58 Last thing you ate?

well rn im eating plain potato chips and mayo (please dont judge me. i know its disgusting)

60Ever won a competition? For what?

i used to do mma i won like one or two of those. i also run a riding competition once. 

62Been arrested? For what?

not yet. but im sure one day i will be.

64tell us the story of your first kiss?

we were in her parents bathroom and were 7. thats all i remember. havent kissed anyone since. which isnt for lack of wanting to.

68Do you like your tumblr friends more than your real friends?

i dont really have any tumblr friends that arent my real friends yet? so like i cant answer that.

70 Twitter or Tumblr?

well i spend all my time here and not on twitter so lets go with tumblr. altho i do have a twitter im never on

72Names of your best friends?

adi, heather, rabecca, joaquin, celestine. 

74What colour are your towels?

blue, red and white. and theres some hawaiin print ones and a yellow one. 

76How many pillows do you sleep with?

3... 

78How many stuffed animals do you think you have?

like 40? dont judge. i kept asking as a kid and my parents kept giving them to me for christmas and my birthday. they should have stopped. 

80What colour is your underwear?

rn its grey. but its not the only color i have

82Favourite ice cream flavor?

fuck. ummmmm coffee?

84What colour pants?

rn theyre black. but on the front of the thighs they have zebra striping. 

86Favourite movie?

thats not an easy question to answer. im gonna say bringing up baby just because. 

90Mean Girls or 21 Jump Street?

both? i mean i prefer mean girls a lil more bu 21 jumpstreet isnt bad either

92 Favourite character from Finding Nemo?

dory. we are both scatterbrained. 

94Last person you talked to today?

adi. but like in person? rabbit and the nerd. 

96Name a person you love?

celestine. (not romantically)

98In a fight with someone?

not as far as i know. but i always kinda feel like im in a fight with monkey. 

100How many sweaters/hoodies do you have?

like 4? i know i know i dont have very many. 

102Favourite actress?

aubrey plaza. 

104Do you tan a lot?

nope. i try at least once every summer. but my skin either stays as pale as snow or i burn really bad then my skin shift to a slightly more offwhite shade of snow. 

106. How are you feeling?

blergh. potato chips and mayo are really gross. and im tired and sick of people telling me shit. 

108Do you regret anything from your past?

i regret everything ive ever done. 

110Do you miss anyone from your past?

well there is this one guy i used to talk to but i miss the attention and not him so that doesnt count. i kinda miss a friend of mine named shannon from elementary school sunday school

112Ever broken someone’s heart?

i dont think so. 

114What should you be doing?

school. but ive given up on that. so. 

.116 Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt?

oh yeah. ive liked 2 peoplethat much. altho i barely knew the first person and it was more me projecting my ideals of the prefect person onto them. 

118Who was the last person you cried in front of?

probs my therapist. 

120Have you ever been out of your province/state?

yeah. i was just in virginia last week. i live in california so id say thats definitely out of state. 

122Are you listening to music right now?

nope. 

124Do you like Chinese food?

americanized or traditional? americanized: yessss that shit i shte bomb. traditional? i dont know ive never had it. 

126Are you afraid of the dark?

yes. very. i need a light source or i start to panic. 

.128 Is cheating ever okay?

like on a partner or on a test or something? on a partner? no way. u should never do that. like thatll really fuck them up and make them mistrustful for the rest of their life. on a test? if its necessary sure go for it. i dont care. im not ur teacher. 

130Do you believe in love at first sight?

yeah. but its not something thatll ever happen to me lmao.

132. Are you currently bored?

im always bored. 

134 Would you change your name?

last name? yes 100% absolutely. first name? maybe. 

136Do you like subway?

like the sandwich shop? fuck no! the first time i ate it i threw up. the second time was ok. and thei third time i got serious stomach cramps afterwards. it was these awful sharp shooting pains all through my stomach. 

138Who’s the last person you had a deep conversation with?

probs my therapist. 

140Can you count to one million?

theoretically? yes. but will i? no 

142Do you sleep with your doors open or closed?

closed! my closet freaks me out but the office across from my bedroom freaks me out more. and also like i dont want cats walking on my face. or to wake up at 7 am and find that my dog has taken up the very middle of the bed. 

144Curly or Straight hair?

rn? mostly straight. but when it gets longer it kinda curls a  lil. 

146Summer or Winter?

yes. i like both. dont make me choose. 

148 Favourite month?

july. thats when im born so it has to be my fav. 

150Dark, milk or white chocolate?

milk

152Was today a good day?

no. 

154What’s your favourite quote?

in the beginning the universe was created a lot of people regard t as a bad move. and i messed that quote up. but yeah. 

156Get the closest book next to you, open it to page 42, what’s the first line on that page?

the terms braided and woven refer to the structure of the elastic. 

[itswhay]

you are going to hate me but... 1-100 :>

lmAo okay... 

1: when you have cereal, do you have more milk than cereal or more cereal than milk?

Cereal 

2: do you like the feeling of cold air on your cheeks on a wintery day?

yes actually 

3: what random objects do you use to bookmark your books?

shoe laces and ripped paper 

4: how do you take your coffee/tea?

sweet as fuck 

5: are you self-conscious of your smile?

I never smile w my teeth so I guess 

6: do you keep plants?

I gave a lil succ named John Stamos 

7: do you name your plants?

^^^^^

8: what artistic medium do you use to express your feelings?

Photography ? I guess I also write on a p blog everyday 

9: do you like singing/humming to yourself?

yeah ig

10: do you sleep on your back, side, or stomach?

side 

11: what's an inner joke you have with your friends?

you wouldn’t get it 

12: what's your favorite planet?

Saturn 

13: what's something that made you smile today?

This girl said my outfit was cute 

14: if you were to live with your best friend in an old flat in a big city, what would it look like?

cozy 

15: go google a weird space fact and tell us what it is!

All of space is completely silent 

16: what's your favorite pasta dish?

probs anything w cheese and tomatoes and ground beef 

17: what color do you really want to dye your hair?

I dont lmao #beentheredonethatoverit

18: tell us about something dumb/funny you did that has since gone down in history between you and your friends and is always brought up.

Nothing im perfect lmaooooooooo 

19: do you keep a journal? what do you write/draw/ in it?

yeeeeeee and none ya fckn biz... but like for real I write about my day in detail and how im currently feeling about people bc I forget things really easily and I want to remember my life ????? 

20: what's your favorite eye color?

i don have one all y’alls eyes are beaut

21: talk about your favorite bag, the one that's been to hell and back with you and that you love to pieces.

I have like this embroidery elephant bag that got at a festival when I first moved to colorado 

22: are you a morning person?

lmao no 

23: what's your favorite thing to do on lazy days where you have 0 obligations?

I like to sit on the back porch on the couch and drink coffee and nap 

24: is there someone out there you would trust with every single one of your secrets?

yes @ daron 

25: what's the weirdest place you've ever broken into?

my own house damnnn gurrlll willldddd

26: what are the shoes you've had for forever and wear with every single outfit?

currently pink hightop converses but the shoes I had for the longest time was a pair of purple low tops 

27: what's your favorite bubblegum flavor?

PoLaR iCe 

28: sunrise or sunset?

Sunrise 

29: what's something really cute that one of your friends does and is totally endearing?

lmao ummmmm Nicole holds your hand when you sit near her 

30: think of it: have you ever been truly scared?

lmao yea 

31: what is your opinion of socks? do you like wearing weird socks? do you sleep with socks? do you confine yourself to white sock hell? really, just talk about socks.

I nEVer sleep in socks. But like socks are sick, never only wear white socks 

32: tell us a story of something that happened to you after 3AM when you were with friends.

lots of things that if im being honest i dont feel like reminiscing about rn bc im tired  

33: what's your fave pastry?

muffins 

34: tell us about the stuffed animal you kept as a kid. what is it called? what does it look like? do you still keep it?

I had this GiaNT mouse I mean lik e it was huge 

35: do you like stationary and pretty pens and so on? do you use them often?

I love... I write letters and postcards to people 

36: which band's sound would fit your mood right now?

Probs Elvis like always 

37: do you like keeping your room messy or clean?

I like it clean but usually it messy

38: tell us about your pet peeves?

People hiding things, acting like a different person than who they are, being a bad friend bc you want to seem cool to someone else 

39: what color do you wear the most?

Pink and Black prob

40: think of a piece of jewelry you own: what's it's story? does it have any meaning to you?

yeah boi The longest amethyst pendant I wear my grandma gave me, the shorter one my mom gave me. I used to have this moon necklace I would wear literally everyday and was very important to me but I lost it at a show and Im still sad about it  

41: what's the last book you remember really, really loving?

Joel Grey’s book 

42: do you have a favorite coffee shop? describe it!

Mutiny !!! its really sick and there mochas are so good and they have good heckin shows (also im obvi a starbucks bitch so...) 

43: who was the last person you gazed at the stars with?

myself bitch I tell the moon to protect my loved ones every nite 

44: when was the last time you remember feeling completely serene and at peace with everything?

On the beach in Savannah like pls take me back  

45: do you trust your instincts a lot?

100%

46: tell us the worst pun you can think of.

Imagine if you would hit the clock in the morning and the clock would hit you right back. -I think it would be truly alarming. 

47: what food do you think should be banned from the universe?

Ketchup 

48: what was your biggest fear as a kid? is it the same today?

Needles and yea 

49: do you like buying CDs and records? what was the last one you bought?

Cds uhhhh last was probs placebo 

50: what's an odd thing you collect?

Musiclas on VHS 

51: think of a person. what song do you associate with them?

person not named -- song: hold on to me placebo 

52: what are your favorite memes of the year so far?

the blinky guy

53: have you ever watched the rocky horror picture show? heathers? beetlejuice? pulp fiction? what do you think of them?

lmao yea they good 

54: who's the last person you saw with a true look of sadness on their face?

I heard it in there voice too and it was last week and It hurts to see someone so sad 

55: what's the most dramatic thing you've ever done to prove a point?

well i can say that I did not join the frisbee team to prove a point 

56: what are some things you find endearing in people?

lmao being nice and happy at least some of the time passionate about things and seeks to be happy and fulfilled 

57: go listen to bohemian rhapsody. how did it make you feel? did you dramatically reenact the lyrics?

yeah but also that song makes me sad 

58: who's the wine mom and who's the vodka aunt in your group of friends? why?

Im both fuck me up 

59: what's your favorite myth?

my love life *that weird drum sound thng when some1 makes a joke* 

60: do you like poetry? what are some of your faves?

yeah 

61: what's the stupidest gift you've ever given? the stupidest one you've ever received?

to tired to answer this 

62: do you drink juice in the morning? which kind?

orange 

63: are you fussy about your books and music? do you keep them meticulously organized or kinda leave them be?

leave em be 

64: what color is the sky where you are right now?

dark 

65: is there anyone you haven't seen in a long time who you'd love to hang out with?

yeah I was supposed to see zack but then it fell through so that should happen soon 

66: what would your ideal flower crown look like?

d a i s i e s 

67: how do gloomy days where the sky is dark and the world is misty make you feel?

I like it 

68: what's winter like where you live?

bad gross cold snow 

69: what are your favorite board games?

clue 

70: have you ever used a ouija board?

nah son dont fuck w that shit 

71: what's your favorite kind of tea?

rasberry 

72: are you a person who needs to note everything down or else you'll forget it?

yea 

73: what are some of your worst habits?

got lots of them 

74: describe a good friend of yours without using their name or gendered pronouns.

They are small short fuckn nerd but 

75: tell us about your pets!

I l o v e them 

76: is there anything you should be doing right now but aren't?

sleeping > 

77: pink or yellow lemonade?

pink 

78: are you in the minion hateclub or fanclub?

I hate those yeloow bitches 

79: what's one of the cutest things someone has ever done for you?

ew

80: what color are your bedroom walls? did you choose that color? if so, why?

theres like this giant mountain mural... mountians... just mean,,,, so... much to me, lmao no we rent  

81: describe one of your friend's eyes using the most abstract imagery you can think of.

pine tree w golden light shining through 

82: are/were you good in school?

this semester im doing pretty good 

83: what's some of your favorite album art?

lmao idfk 

84: are you planning on getting tattoos? which ones?

yea a tcb in new mexico 

85: do you read comics? what are your faves?

yea wonder women ones like the old ones 

86: do you like concept albums? which ones?

?????

87: what are some movies you think everyone should watch at least once in their lives?

Boy meets girl (my heart ) and girl happy 

88: are there any artistic movements you particularly enjoy?

im s o tired im sorru 

89: are you close to your parents?

yea 

90: talk about your one of you favorite cities.

Savannah 

91: where do you plan on traveling this year?

lots of places actually 

92: are you a person who drowns their pasta in cheese or a person who barely sprinkles a pinch?

drowns 

93: what's the hairstyle you wear the most?

short and out of the way 

94: who was the last person you know to have a birthday?

Carla

95: what are your plans for this weekend?

work and I have a thing on sunday 

96: do you install your computer updates really quickly or do you procrastinate on them a lot?

i ignore them 

97: myer briggs type, zodiac sign, and hogwarts house?

idr aquarius im slytherin  

98: when's the last time you went hiking? did you enjoy it?

yes i did 

99: list some songs that resonate to your soul whenever you hear them.

nooooooo 

100: if you were presented with two buttons, one that allows you to go 5 years into the past, the other 5 years into the future, which one would you press? why?

neither thats a horrible question live life in the present and understand that each day is different and you should just enjoy what you can of them :)))

you right i do kinda hate u but its ok