#because like. getting back into the rp space is just not something im sure i can handle anymore and its a hobby that's brought me nothing

[2bu]

i wish we collectively could have an honest, open discussion about how unfriendly rp spaces still are to people of colour even if they are lead by people of colour, or well-meaning whites.

like, idk, there's still like antiblack events/scenes/dialogues that take place or biases towards white/white passing characters. this doesn' even begin to cover the cliquey nature of rp spaces as is and again, how biased people are and can be even if they claim otherwise. you could have the most open, friendliest space in the world, sure, but even then, they'd still be guilty of at least either: petty gossip or snobbish rpers who think they and the characters they portray (original or canon) are better than you and yours, or hell, just cliquey, exclusionary behaviour.

also, too, usually (i've experienced this myself a lot), if you're a person of colour in an rp space, 9/10 people who are not the same race as you will do just about anything to get your approval with portrayals/creations of characters solely to appease you and not because they have a desire to branch out or challenge themselves to make a character or portray a character that's nothing like them.

#ducky.txt #i don't like rp as much anymore and i still maintain that i was right to leave the space when i was a teenager #because like imo nothing has changed #it just genuinely hasn't #in my experience in the last what? fucking... 3-4 years? it hasn't changed #and i'd been rping since i was 10 on warrior cats forums/rp sites #i stopped at 16 in the msa fandom because the people there were fucking diabolical abusive racist assholes #like. ough / neg #honestly laughs i don't? rp at all anymore to be quite frank #i just headcanon with like holo carlton and randy if im lucky #because like. getting back into the rp space is just not something im sure i can handle anymore and its a hobby that's brought me nothing #but misery most of my life #and usually a lot of rpers make this their sole hobby which also just causes tons of issues if they get crazy about it which they do #literally it's just always been this way! as much as i love oc interactions im not sure i have the heart for it anymore. #been let down and hurt too many times!

[aurheatum]

toa anniversary mun day

under cut

Name: 

Nel, i mean it’s Sarah technically, but once you start getting multiple notes in the mail with Nel on them I think it counts. Nelfes works too. I respond to most anything tbh

Pronouns:

she/her or they/them

Birthday (no year):

Dec 6th Saint Nicholas Day : )

Where are you from? What is your time zone?

Chicago. CST [GMT-5].

Roleplay experience:

Over ten years, started on Neopets and other forums. Moved to Gaia Online and then Tumblr indie space some time in 2011.

Got any pets?

Baby boy

Favorite time of year:

Springtime or Autumn

Some interests and things you like:

I’ve always been super into mythology, all of them. I used to think that Carl Jung was onto something with the collective unconscious but then Anthropology and the reality of multilineal evolution ruined that for me (college will teach you things); but that’s alright because humans their ability to create and interpret their surroundings with equal parts love and fear is still pretty cool.

Some funfacts & trivia about you:

-Agnostic but i work in an occult library (it’s pretty quiet; the new age bookshop across the street has all the events)

-One time on Gaia Online I was kicked out of an Okami RP bc I didn’t make my posts aesthetic enough, and I thought it was just the most heart wrenching thing -I’m not sure what people stand to gain back in Ye Old Runescape luring new players out into the wild and PKing them but I was gullible enough to follow some other players at like 7 yrs old and this would have happened to me if i wasnt SUPER good at clicking my mouse and running out of there. Surviving such a harrowing experience made me think i was truly invincible.

-I was supposed to write my final paper for my Japanese Buddhism class on… surprise, Japanese Buddhism but I really wanted to talk about Kenji Miyazawa’s writings instead so I spun it through a lens of his Nichiren conversion and its impact on his poetry. My prof saw right through me but I still got an A.

What non-Fire Emblem games do you play?

Tales of RPG series raised me as a person so u know. I like Persona 1-2 era SMT though I’ve played Nocturne and IV as well. What else? Okami, LOZ: Twilight Princess, farm sims and visual novels. Genshin, on and off.

Favorite Pokemon type & Pokemon:

Psychic; wooper family (clogsire im so glad u joined us)

How did you get into Fire Emblem?

My neighbor would bring over Path of Radiance so I could play it on my gamecube with my own save back in the day

What Fire Emblem games have you played?

Tellius duology. Sacred Stones, FE 13-16; currently doing Blazing Blade. Archanea one day.

First Fire Emblem game:

POR

Favorite Fire Emblem game:

Tie between 3 Houses and Radiant Dawn

Any Fire Emblem crushes? 😳 

It’s rhea okay. I wont lie and i wont pretend it isnt evidence of my spectacular taste either

If you’ve played the following games, who was your first S support? Who would you S support nowadays? - Awakening: Tiki (first S support was olivia bc i wanted a pink haired kid)  - Fates: honestly i’d have to revisit, i know i first married niles as m!corrin - Three Houses: I married each lord on their route tho it’s much funnier if you dont i think (First route was Crimson Flower but I saved at the split so I could marry Rhea first lmao) - Engage: Saphir 🥰

Favorite Fire Emblem class:

War Cleric or Qi Adept

If you were a Fire Emblem character, what would be your class?

I’d be the mage you have to drag around and treat with baby gloves only to learn like a single good spell I think

If you were a Three Houses character, what would be your affiliation?

Leicester Alliance tbh

If you were an Engage character, which Emblem would you Engage with?

Based purely on mechanics bc i love them all prob Soren dlc, Sigurd, Celica, and Lyn.

How did you find TOA?

End of 2020/beginning of 2021 I was really trying to get back into rp but couldn’t get into the various systems on discord. One community that I was trying was affiliates with The Officer’s Academy and an active tumblr community rly caught my interest. The rest is history!

Current TOA muses:

Rhea 3H, Micaiah Radiant Dawn, and miss Hortensia engage

Who was your first TOA muse? If you don’t have them anymore, could you see yourself picking them up again?

This blog right here! I put her down for a bit and probably will again but. It’s not like she ever leaves, instead of brain there is Rhea u see (i bear this burden so u do not have to)

Have you had any other TOA muses?

I played Sephiran for a hot sec and Ingrid for around a yearish iirc. Both very fun

Do you think you have a type of character you gravitate towards?

Not really? I need to be able to connect with them on some level obviously, and I tend to prefer characters who have like a clear childhood or background for why they are That Way. Micaiah was actually p difficult for this reason but being able to really shape her based on what little we know also made me ever more fond. ♥️ I love to stare at pegasusknight and serenesforest supports pages late at night tehe

What do you believe you enjoy writing the most?

I don’t particularly plan ahead but I really love when threads reflect past character development whether in a thread with the same muse or different. TOA extended universe… I’d like to do that more I think but first I have to actually make a support page huh? Since Rhea’s back she’s made more bonds though and that makes me happy.

Favorite TOA-related memory: Definitely Unlocked 2021! It was my first event after really starting to warm to the TOA community and i was an awe of the scope of the events. The mods thought this far ahead?! We can do this?! Every event since has just been even more fun but the surprise and intrigue i felt then really stayed with him

*How do you pronounce TOA?

Toe-uh. Like Dee-En-Dee. you know.

Got any delusions that didn’t see the light of day that you’d like to share? 😉 

I think I mentioned I muse Hubert before, and also that I can't really seeing myself maintaining a blog for him? So other than that, no. I do think Nimh could be quite a bit of fun though *laughs*

#ooc #|meme response

[granitenotgranted]

I'm gonna need ur reaction and thoughts about the RaM finale once you've watched it

I only watched it yesterday so im not gonna have any hot and spicy new takes for yall but ya girl DID have some thoughts lets go (obviously spoiler warning)

thank you SO SO much for asking!! I’m honored that you want my takes<33

Listen I hate to say it but I KNEW IT WAS TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE!! GOD!!! 😭😭😭

I just need to come out here and say this but first of all I dont think Rick replacing himself was really a bad thing,,,, like at all LMAO especially knowing that it was Rick who made him I mean it was more than just a replacement he was made to be the grandpa he wants for morty but he just knows he can’t be right now.

I can fully understand how it would absolutely feel like a betrayal to Morty but looking at it as a viewer I mean Rick was fully spiraling, to me his intentions were completely pure. Also I thik im just grateful they gave us a time stamp for when the swap was made so we didnt have to wonder forever how much of Rick this season was Rick. He still did piss master, he still kept Jerry blissfully ignorant just out of good will, he STILL WILLINGLY WENT TO THERAPY. All these wouldve been out the window if theyd overlooked that detail. 

Him recognizing that he was starting to go off the deep end again and not only removing himself but having his familys best interest in mind ( “Im no good to anyone until I resolve this” ) while doing so AND literally while mad at Morty is still INSANE character growth from where we started but this way is REALISTIC character growth. It was WEIRD how black and white the difference between literally yhe last two episodes and even just the rest of the season (which has famously been Rick in his peak good grandpa career) was. At some points it felt like I was reading fanfiction.

(Why do his knees look like that oh my god) Rick is fully capable of recognizing where he can be better, he always has been, he is not stupid *however* he is CLUTCHING onto the idea of being more logical than sentimental by the fucking neck rn. Men will literally build an anatomically flawless ai to be the perfectly calculated percentage nicer to their grandson and to be the man they wish they were before just going back to therapy.

Someone else mentioned this but ill also point out how much I appreciated just seeing Rick working? Like just in his space completely focused building shit with his brain and hands that hit the fucking spot. 9/10 times we only get the finished product and idk if its just me but I love when we SEE Rick living up to the Rick Sanchez tm reputation.

And Morty... my sweet summer child. It is not at all a shiny new take to say oh he’s so done with ricks shit we all know that but I really really want to point out something that I’m not really sure what point I’m trying to make with but have we noticed almost a switch morty flips when on adventures? He cried because Christmas was ruined like not even a full 6 hours before he was fully ready to kill a man while looking him in the eyes. Maybe the two were cause and effect idk bht I think that’s definitely something present in other episodes too this sorta “just get it done” attitude.

Also how much he sounded like rick this ep? That whole “don’t be too flattered he’s been actively trying to die” sounded EXACTLY like a Rick line I literally had to play it again. And the complete apathy for robo rick wanting to die until he ACTUALLY lunged himself into the void was also just textbook rick bullshit. Like grandfather like goddamn grandson.

The ending to me was a little disappointing tbh I think I was hoping for a more,,, structured? Cliffhanger? Like we dk what’s gonna happen in this storyline instead of the introduction to a new storyline yk? MAYBEEE I’m just salty we have to wait another year for more you can’t prove anything.

Rick being borderline manic ab RP at the end was my favorite it’s nice to see him just rant ab anything really and like not make some bullshit elaborate Halloween house to take his anger out but just legit vent ab what this guys been doing to him for the past fucking 40 years. I didn’t even notice the ep was over when the credits rolled in my mind we were only like 10 minutes in and I lost my MIND when mr poopy butthole pulled up again good to see he’s thriving (kinda)

On a final note when he called him Rick prime please let me know if I’m off but is that not an internet term for him? Like the fandom came up with it? Rick and morty writers are tumblerinas confirmed question mark?

And lastly: Neurotypical. Cooties.

#I don’t want to edit this post anymore than I have accept this or nothing #god I have so much to say ab robo rick too but this was getting too long #thank you for the ask!! <33 #rick and morty #rick sanchez #morty smith #summer smith #jerry smith #rnm #talk to me guys!! what do we think!!

[call-me-picky]

—Roleplay Information—

(warning u now this shit is LONG)

.General Post Info.

hello! i am still picky 😎

gonna be editing this over time because i wont have the same preferences forever lol.

this is just kind of a massive list of my erp information! this includes non-vore and vore stuff. not all erps with me have to include vore! after you’ve read this and are interested in erping, please fill out this application and dm it to me to be considered for an rp!:

__—A͙bout M͙e—__

—————————————

“ѕнє ωαѕ αи υи¢αииу ѕιgнт. ѕιмρℓу νιℓє.. нєя ѕυикєи єуєѕ, нєя gнσѕтℓу ѕкιи, нєя киιfє-fιℓℓє∂ gяιи... ѕнє ωαѕ α fσυℓ тнιиg, тσ вє ѕυяє."

—————————————

——————————

Name I Go By: Picky

(She/Her)

(please do not go throwing yourself into my DMs just bc im a woman irl actually read what you’re getting into before DMing me)

Age: 18-20

Sexual Orientation: straight as a ruler

(idc what gender my erp partners are tho. we ballin’.)

quick notes:

i like to make friends with my rp partners c:

i really don’t care for short-term rp partners. rps can be short-term though!

im prone to anxiety. dw too much about it im just letting you know that i may be extra careful with things

please know that im new to ERP outside of vore! outside of both of those topics, ive been sfw roleplaying for 11 years now.

__—R͙oleplay S͙tats—__

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“∂єα∂! σи нєя σωи ∂σσяѕтєρ..!”

——————————

——————————

“Open to RP Requests?”

Yes ( ✅ )

No ( )

Literacy Level: Literate to Novella (a bit rusty rn tho ngl)

- my literacy adapts. while i can do anywhere from 6-11 paragraphs per response, please keep in mind that i partly have to work off of what you give me! obviously not all scenes are totally worth 11 paragraphs per response, and i understand that, but if you send me 3 paragraphs, please do not expect me to send you 11 back 😭. however, I do not roleplay with non-lits and I lose interest in semi-lits who dont use good grammar or descriptive detail.

Genres/Topics: Adventure, Dystopian/Apocalyptic, Fantasy, Psychological Horror, Dark Themes(to an extent), Romance/Fluff, other stuff 👍

^ even if something isnt listed here, feel free to propose it anyways. though please keep in mind that im very picky(haha get it?? funnie) with sci-fi and dont care for most of it

Response Speed: Medium to Slow

Plot Structure Preference: Simple Starter, Skeleton-Format, or Plot Diagram. i dont mind improvising a little!

-set up is important to me. i take time to flesh things out make sure we have a somewhat clear direction, especially if we’re creating entirely new characters/worlds. i also often worldbuild with rp partners. im very plot driven and not entirely focused on the horny parts at all times. if you would prefer to keep it quick and simple, just let me know you prefer short term rps.

Preferred RP Length: Long Term preferred, Short Term is cool too though!

Characters I Play:

OCs ( ✅ )

Canon (❔) ( depends on rp partner )

Real People ( ❌ )

Male Doms/Preds ( ✅ )

(Mostly Fem) Preys/Subs ( ❔ ) ( depends on rp partner )

-im fine using ocs for game/movie/series rps! like id be fine using an undertale oc or smth like that. you can use canon characters if we are doing an rp like that too. i just prefer not to use them myself most of the time. :]

-i myself am not a dom/pred!! i just like rping as them and making friends with people who like the same doms/preds i do! im not opposed to rping as a sub/prey, i just am very new to it and often get anxious. and.. im picky with doms/preds LOL

(side note that if i have smth of urs listed as DNI it doesn’t mean i hate you i just would prefer to keep myself away from that space. im allowed to put up boundaries and it is not an invasion of your sexual space for me to say “hey im not comfortable with that. please limit contact with me.”)

__—K͙ink/F͙etish P͙references—__

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This section excludes vore and belly fetish preferences! I’ll elaborate on those preferences in the next section!

sı̣ɥʇ pɐǝɹ oʇ spɐǝɥ ɹnoʎ ʇlı̣ʇ oɟ ǝʌɐɥ llɐ,ʎ

🫵😛

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Love It:

Masculine Dilfs/Older Men (around 30-50) + facial & body hair(ill be real with yall i make them all white 😭) (idm what the sub/prey is tho)

M/F Vanilla Sex

Overweight and/or Muscular Men (anything except skinny or show men are fine with me) (IK IK my name is there for a reason! 😭 i swear idm what the sub/prey is like)

Authoritative/Reputationally Feared Doms

UNIFORMS. OMFG UNIFORMS— ties and belts my beloved

Maledom/Femsub

Dom Feeling Jealous Occasionally

Male Facesitting (especially accidental/unaware) (man ass enjoyer right here)

Male Ass Eating

Age Gap Relationships (to an extent)

Fearplay, Play Wrestling, Hide and Seek, Play Chasing

Foreplay (im kinda into this too much)

Servant/Hired Subs, Subs Being Commanded, Subs Being Used as Sex Toys (i dont want the characters’ relationships to stay cold or unloving tho)

Doms Buying Clothes for Subs

Love Bites (hickeys my beloved)

Praise Kink

Subs Worshiping Doms (to an extent)

Spanking

Either Caught Masturbating

Cocky Dom x Nervous Sub

Fangirling Subs (me fr)

Comfort Sex

Teasing(kinda crazy about this)

Authoritative Titles, Pet Names

Blowjobs, Handjobs, Oral Sex

Big Dick, Size Difference, Bulge from Penetration

Either in Denial About Feelings + Seduction

Doms Trying to Resist and Breaking, Urgency for Sex

Humanoid Subs that Have Tentacles >>>

Experienced Doms

Body Massages in General

Showering/Snuggling Together

Ass/Dick Smothering (not to a dangerous degree)

Object Insertion (me on my way to shove pool balls up my fictional men’s asses), Male Assplay

Sex While Working/On the Phone/Busy, Danger of Getting Caught

Sexual Frustration

Breeding/Milking Talk, Talking During Sex

Wet Dreams

Excess Semen

Villain-Coded Men Or Villainous Men Eventually Working to Redeem Themselves (yeah im one of those tumblr girls 💔 sorry)

INSECURE MEN LET’S GOOOOO 🤩🤩🤩🎉🎉🎉

technically CNC (characters consent ahead of time that either of them can do whatever whenever basically) (but they rlly both gotta be into it like im fine with fear but if either character actually isnt digging it then it’s a no-go for me)

Restraints?? Bondage?? (high amounts on sub, low amounts on dom)

Aftercare :>

Like It:

Monstrous Humanoid x Human

Nursing Handjobs???? if my definition is correct

Slight Pain From Stretching

Clothing Entrapment

Hypnosis (as long as the sub is into it)

Dry Humping

Inexperienced Doms x Inexperienced Subs

Urethra Play ??

Hair Pulling

Breast Play

Pegging????? (dude idfk i just love stickin’ things up mens’ asses 🤩) (what is more straight girl coded than wanting to fuck a dominant man’s ass 😳) (that was sarcasm)

Only On Rare Occasions

M/M Pairings

Malesub

G/T Relationships Outside Sex (i usually just have them size shift so they’re not G/T afterwards)

Monstrous Humanoid x Monstrous Humanoid

Sex in Exchange for Things (it rlly depends)

Food Play

Small Dicks

Multiple Subs/Doms on One Person

Dislike It

Trans Men Doms/Preds (no offense 😭)

Femdom/Feminine Doms/Preds (this includes drag queens)

Watersports

Scat

Anthro Characters Involved in Sexual Activity

Futas

Role Reversal

Blindfolds

Sadism/Masochism

Blood, Extreme Pain

DDLG/Related

DNI Entirely If You Like This

any paraphilia(any illegal, immoral shit or anything that involves extreme harm)

If you ain’t here for a vore/belly fetish erp than ignore the next section it’s completely irrelevant to u 🤩 dw about all that but do let me know you’re not a fan of that stuff. im a little fuckin’ crazy for it all but i respect people’s boundaries.

__—V͙ore R͙elated P͙references—__

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“ѕσ уσυ тнιик нυмαиѕ ¢αи’т вє ѕ¢αяу? ωєℓℓ, ℓєт’ѕ ѕєє ιf уσυ ѕтιℓℓ тнιик тнαт ωнєи ι’м ∂σиє ωιтн уσυ.”

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(anything i listed previously also applies here in the same level of liking!)

Love It

Non-Fatal Vore

M/F (male pred, female prey)

Human Preds x Human/oid Prey

(clean) Anal Vore

Cruel, Teasing Preds (ugh loving bastards my beloved)

Unexpected Preds

Possessive Preds

Burps, Stomach Bloating, Stomachaches Loud/Noisy Stomach Sounds (i am.. really fucking crazy about burps i’ll be real 😔 like really fucking crazy)

Bellyplay, Belly Smothering (to a safe extent of course), Massages, Sloshing, Etc Etc

Stuffing, Overeating, Unrealistic Hunger

Button Popping, Tight Clothing

Servant/Hired Prey

Nervous, Willing but Scared Prey

Unwilling to Willing Prey

Accidental Vore, Preds Losing Control

Size Difference (several feet) Vore

Sex Before Vore, Tiring the Prey Out Before Vore

Masturbation During

Fearplay with Teeth/Throats (😦😦😡🤬🤬🤬🤬 I LOVE THAT SHIT)

Spitplay, Excess Saliva

Hunter Pred x Hunted Prey dynamics

Inedible Object Swallowing

Pred on Phone/Working/Busy Pred, Danger Of Getting Caught

Pred Trying to Be Inconspicuous After Vore

INSECURE PREDS WOOO LET’S FUCKING GOOO 🤩🤩🤩 🎉🎉🎉🎉

Like It

Oral Vore

Cock Vore

Protective/Comforting Vore

Wholesome Vore

Feedism?? idk yet

Weight Gain from Stuffing/Overeating (to an extent)

Air/Water Inflation

Humanoid Preds

Willing Preys

Male Farts? (idk how id rp it tho ngl 😭 cause im not into the smell just the sounds and a bit of the embarrassment) (yes im painfully aware that every single one of my vore prefs is painfully unpopular 🥲)

Sizeshifting

Two Preys

Nervous/First Time Preds

Mouthplay

Belly Button Play (to an extent)

(clean) Full Tour

Slime/Food Preys (that can be chewed and melted and it doesn’t hurt them)

Getting Caught

Only On Rare Conditions

M/M (male pred, male prey)

Bellymouth Vore

Navel Vore?? idk yet

Soul Vore (depends on plot rlly)

Same Size Vore

Mass Vore

G/T

Unwilling to Willing Preds

Slime Absorption???? (still no fatal or digestion)

Dislike It

Scat/Unclean Anal Vore

Bladder Vore

Nose/Ear Vore

Full Blown Unwilling Pred/Prey

Anthro Characters Involved in Vorish Situations

Unbirth

Clothes Tearing

Preys Bigger Than Pred

Role Reversal

Obese Preds

Sizzling

Just Don’t RP With Me If You Like This

(idm you commenting or anything just know i would not be open to RPing with you)

Willing Fatal/Digestion Vore (yes that includes reformation)

Hard Vore

DNI Entirely If You Like This

Feral(includes ANY Pokemon) Vore

(i have no problem with humanized creatures or monster humanoids that aren’t anthros)

Unwilling Fatal/Digestion Vore

——————————————

if you have reached this point then DAMN alright you a reader 😭😭😭 my yappin’ ends here until my next post. like my bio states, my dms are wide open so hit me up if you’re interested in erping. i will probably try to make friends with you as well so be warned. if you do dm me, im gonna want that filled application because to this day i still get people dming going “errrmm female pred? ☝️🤓”

you are also welcome to dm or anon ask me if you have any questions!

ok bye

#non-fatal vore #human vore #nonfatal vore #mpred #mpred vore #vore rp #vore roleplay #18+ rp #18+ only #18+ content #male pred #male pred vore #m/f vore #mature #v0re #v.ore #tw vore #safe vore #soft vore #swallowed whole #eructo #burp kink #belly kink

[akilliosacheron]

well jenkins won my poll from a while ago so i guess its my time to talk about jenkins. lemme kinda go back to the beginning about it.

So, Season 12 is when i started being a blaseball fan. I officially on the site roll up to the canada moist talkers on the election sunday that the big siesta starts so im out here like what the fuck is going on while my pal corvoda is a decent bit more interested than i am at that point but i digress.

I miss the coffee cup and related events and i finally start showing my face in the discord, i think i got started on jenkins because i had stumbled across some of the blaseball rp twitters and wanted to join in, so i picked a blaseball player who didn't have a twitter at the time which was jesús and jenkins and i picked jenkins.

there is a message specifically telling me that jenkins doesnt get much love compared to other players on the team and lemme tell you, i took that PERSONALLY.

the first couple things i learned about jenkins was assorted stuff from their wiki. Flaming eye, gamer, and from greer's wiki i think i learned that jenkins and greer were.... something. relationship something.

after a while, i took a crack at making a jenkins interp that combined two other interps i had seen, big lizardy jenkins and mostly humanoid jenkins and ended up with salamander jenkins, eventually switching over to leopard gecko jenkins.

the thing that both entertained me and made me sad is that nothing ever really happened to jenkins. this player who i loved so much didnt recieve a stat buff till late expansion, despite being active with the same stat total since s4 election. sure they got crows mod but rarely did they play in bird weather just cuz of how weather works.

if i can be salty a little bit, i've always had a weird relationship with greer because of how much we focus on her. i know buff greer was funny and it definitely is super funny dont get me wrong but jenkins was a great pitcher until the stat creep hit. we still has to spend several elections on greer because she was a fan favourite. i feel in my heart that if it had been jenkins in that feedback there probably wouldnt have been as much of a push to get them back and idk that always scared me.

its not that jenkins was truly irredeemably bad at the time but compared to a player like greer? if we had to choose between greer or jenkins in something i know greer is winning and that does weird things to my brain sometimes idk i will digress again

jenkins being an active player vs kennedy trevino tyvi who are (were, in tyvi's case) fuckin dead is a wierd space to be in too. especially now that jenkins is on the tacos in new era i rotate between happiness that the tacos like them and deathly fear that theyre going to misconstrue something about them because jenkins is just so specifically Talkers-fied that you really had to be there for the jenkins conversations to understand jenkins' vibes. Its one of those things that like, jenkins was an s1 talker, they had all this time on the team so you just Got the vibes.

my sad thing about jenkins on the tacos? i feel like i cant talk about them anymore. my jenkins is talkers jenkins and i dont know the tacos and i am afraid. this is not my jenkins good anymore this is a whole other jenkins now and i think.... thats really the thing thats fucking me up about this new era. but at least jenkins is doing okay last i checked.

uhhhh lemme actually say some fun headcanons here... Jenkins has a math related degree in Orb Studies and can determine the exact salt content in food just by licking it. they eventually get a pet gecko named Adkins.

#jenkins good #blaseball #canada moist talkers #im not gonna tag the tacos specifically #being a talkers fan is hard sometimes #word of mouth is so fun until you have to explain it to those uninformed and then its TERRIFYING #for those who understand #i am a system and we have a jenkins fictive #our jenkins fictive cannot function regarding tacos jenkins and it really affects my interpretation of the character #theres nothing i can do to fix any jenkins involved feelings #jenkins is a large part of what kept me going on blaseball #jenkins and the talkers #the new era ruined both of those things for me i think #i didnt mean to make this sad honestly but #its hard to jenkinspost now

[cringiestcroissant]

yknow i want to try and get better when the new year starts, i want to take better care of myself, better care of my pets, of my environment at home and help my dad n stepmom, i want to be better. it's just going to be extremely difficult seeing as ive hated myself since i was around 13 (im 26) and ive been under the impression for the last 13 years that i dont deserve any love or kindness because of stupid shit ive done in the past. i understand forgiving yourself is a must, but how can i when ive really hurt others? i dont like hurting anyone, not even those i hate or genuinely dont care for anymore.

this year has been a complete shitshow. easily the worst year of my life. i kinda get it really kicked me in the ass to get in gear and get my life back together, problem is im not sure im strong enough to do it. change is really hard for me, which includes my bad habits and addictions that i need to address. and if im unable to really fix and heal myself, im not sure if im gonna be able to keep myself from doing something stupid again. throughout my life ive been the kind of person that just ruins things. and even when i try and fix it, it doesnt always work out. i ruin things, i hurt others, and i wish to hurt myself all over again.

also, im sorry i havent got to the bob stuff, having this much attention suddenly kinda overwhelmed me a bit. the roleplaying part tbqh made me flashback to my old rp blog when i was younger and how much of a horrible toxic person i was. not to mention tumblr was very different back then than it is now, and with interacting with minors (as im not a minor anymore) i have to be very careful with what i post and who i interact with (since that blog ive just posted whatever i wanted without regarding who else would see it, i was just doing stuff for my own sake). ill answer the rps and give the kisses and hugs to whomever but im going to be mindful with what bob does from now on. i dont want to get myself or anyone else in trouble or make uncomfortable. i want this blog to be a happy safe space where others can feel welcome to interact with me. ill get to those rps and asks once the new year comes.

sigh

my paranoia knows no bounds. im trying here, i just have a lot going on and a lot of negative thoughts going through my mind. nothing unusual really.

#vent #aj's venting again move along

[savagecuhnt]

○     name  : Becca

○     pronouns  : she / her

○     preference of communication  :  IM tumblr thing and Discord. Anyone can feel free to message me about tumblr stuff or just to talk. I’m usually always around. Even if my Rping is a little spotty, I am always lurking.

○   name of muse(s)  :  Rosalyn Von Greyson, Dmitrious Lazarescu, Aerian Dracul.

○   platforms you’ve used  :  tumblr mostly. Started here, pretty much stay on here. I do try to Rp on discord, especially if I have no access to a computer, but there are no other platforms that I use.

○     best experience  : I mean I’ve had nothing but good experiences on Tumblr, save for like 2-3 iffy experiences with muns and their muses, but I’ve made some really cool friends over the years on here. The muns I connect with are always so supportive and passionate and I love it.

○     rp pet peeves / dealbreakers  :  I am not a fan of forced ships and “miscommunication”. I will say, My muse Rose is very sexual and aggressive BUT that does not mean to throw your muse at her in any sort of romantic scenario IF WE HAVE NEVER INTERACTED OR COMMUNICATED BEFORE. If it’s a meme you’re sending in, that’s totally fine, because then that gives me free reign over the situation of how my muse will react, which will always be appropriate for the scenario. OBVIOUSLY if we have not discussed prior to this interaction, I’m NOT going to assume our muses are dating, have dated, or even have had any remote relationship besides this first time meeting. It also depends on the scenario as well. I will always assume IF I MUST, that they are at least friends, But in most cases I prefer first interactions be exactly that. Unless of course I have posted a starter that points in a preestablished relationship scenario, or if the meme is meant for some sort of preestablished scenario. EX. “my muse cleans blood off of yours” I am going to assume the interaction is new, perhaps they’re meeting for the first time and something has happened, maybe a little back and forth between muses but nothing EXTREME. EX of what I don’t like: “Oh Rose, sweet cheeks, you know not to go and do things without me. Now get naked and hop in that tub so I can wash you off.” *proceeds to write as if they’ve known each other for years and this is nothing new and talk about your muses feelings for my muse* IF WE HAVE NOT PLOTTED, PLEASE DON’T DO THAT. If you want something romantic with my muse, I want chemistry. I want them to communicate and flirt and build something that I can work with. I want to get a feel for your muse and writing just like I want Rose to feel out your muse...Now on the “miscommunication part” If you have in your rules and bios that you don’t write horror, gore, smut, NSFW topics, then do NOT insinuate a scenario with my muse that you’re are not comfortable with. MEANING: “Oh sorry I don’t write smut.” *proceeds to write that they’re trying to get my muse naked and make a move and write in detail what they would do to them* resulting in me responding to the scenario, ONLY TO BE TOLD THEY ARE UNCOMFORTABLE. I’ve experienced this, I have seen this done to other muns, I have seen drama started over things like this. COMMUNICATION IS KEY, but don’t be hypocritical. TUMBLR CAN BE A VERY TOXIC PLACE and I for one am not here for drama or to be made to feel uncomfortable or make others feel uncomfortable. I AM HERE TO ENJOY WHAT I LOVE WITH LIKE MINDED ADULTS WHO ENJOY THE SAME THINGS. If communication can’t be had, then this is not a place to be. TUMBLR is my safe space as I’m sure it is for others, and it should be as such. SO PLEASE COMMUNICATE PROPERLY. HAVE FUN! DON’T START DRAMA.

○     fluff, angst, or smut  : I love it all. We can do it all. of course if you’re under the age of 21, then this is not for you. I am only comfortable with roleplaying with people 21 and up, that’s just what I prefer. sorry. I’m 30 guys...I don’t want to be inappropriate. 

○     plots or memes  :I love memes! Things can go in so many directions!! BUT I also love plotting! so both. both are good.

○     best time to write  : I usually write while I’m at work so 6pm-2am.

○     are you like your muse(s)  : I used to think I was like Rose. Pretty much allowed Rose to rule over me at a point in my life, but now that I’m older she is very irrational and irresponsible. I share her confidence and logical thinking, but other than that we are very different. 

stole  from  @gadgetmxn

tagging  whoever wants to do it.

#mun stuff #get to know mun #munday

[rodismancave]

𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐊𝐍𝐎𝐖 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐃𝐌𝐈𝐍 !

NAME: Mist! But I've gone by many other names before lol. This one just has stuck for longer than the others

PRONOUNS: They/Them

SEXUALITY: queer

SINGLE / TAKEN : single

𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐒.

I saw a juvenile iguana get run over last sunday and I got so devastated (I had stopped my car to let it cross the street) that I spaced the fuck out the rest of the way to my destination

I have worked as an illustrator and work as a bartender at a bar sometimes. I've also worked in a kitchen.

I learned english by myself bc I was really dedicated to understanding the sonic archie comics (small town and the sonic archie app only had comics in english), reading warrior cats (only 3 books were translated by the time i was 11) and reading homestuck.

𝐄𝐗𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄.

HOW LONG : I'm pretty sure its been 10 years

PLATFORMS : Started on Instagram comments, then DMs when that became a feature, Unsupportedmsparp, msparp, amino when I got bored, instagram again, Discord, Twitter, and now Tumblr.

BEST EXPERIENCE : I made a warrior cats fan Tribe rp group on discord in 2018 that took off pretty well despite some insane people joining and leaving. I still think fondly of it and plan on bringing it back to start over and make new memories with people who aren't insane

𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐄 𝐓𝐘𝐏𝐄.

FEMALE OR MALE : Whatever. I rp characters by how much they make me feel insane not their gender

FLUFF, ANGST, OR SMUT : All of them? I guess? I've roleplayed smut very sparely bc i have issues

PLOTS OR MEMES : Frankly, I don't know. I mostly go wherever I'm called. I'm not very used to plotting stuff through the end, and It's hard for me to be fully comfortable with memes that aren't very specific. If you hadn't noticed I am mostly the kind of guy to go on and on about shit and wait for someone to join in on the bit or something. But im not against either option

LONG OR SHORT REPLIES : depends on what kind of RP we're doing, I quite enjoy rambling and matching my partner's length is always a fun little challenge. I do get a little upset if the same courtesy isn't done for me, but y'know. I try not to be picky

BEST TIME TO WRITE : When im bored out of my miind and feeling particularly funny

ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S). In some ways yes I guess. I don't really relate to the kind of person Rodimus is because he is the sort of guy i'd either be best friends with or would hate the guts of, but I guess I relate to some more personal aspects of him. I do project on him every once in a while but that's bound to happen when you're roleplaying. It is Natural. But yeah idk. It's not something I tend to think about.

Tagged : @tacticturn

#about #ooc / misty forest

[incarnateirony]

Once again thinking of differences in GM and general presentation styles. I've been getting comments from players like. bro you expanded my MIIIIND I came in with a blank character and D&D mindset and I have GROWN. Or like. CAN'T WAIT TO DO THIS AGAIN THIS IS SO DIFFERENT.

Because it's a living mythology, the definition of show, don't tell, with a moral not overbearing but suddenly so overwhelming everyone freezes in their tracks. Something tangible for characters and players both to walk away with beyond burned time and fake loot rewards.

And like, I look at other campaigns and just see Lord XsdFDKFkD of the SJDKf realm is big bad, go into this dungeon that makes no goddamn sense on why anyone would invest in all these structures and traps for the infinity dungeon with nonsense rooms only there for tricks or loot. Now kick in the next door. Maybe this one has a tile puzzle because the DM is obsessed with DDR. Logic, fuck logic, this is SPARTA.

And even when I build a setting in chaos itself people realize every plant and lightbulb has a reason to add to something somehow, but they have to travel the journey to listen and find the meaning. And talking to players like. Complexity and riddles for the fuck of a challenge rating and none other get real boring when you realize it's all the same. And a lot of it is like. Why. Oh we put the dark lord in a box behind a riddle wall after building a needlessly complex structure full of wasted space and resources but we're good, nobody's known how to read for 2,000 years.

And meanwhile the other GM is in my DM like. YOU KNOW WHAT IM GONNA MAKE A DUNGEON BASED ON LA MULANA, HAVE YOU EVER PLAYED THAT? IT'S STUPID LONG AND HARD, ITS AN ENDLESS DUNGEON, YEAH, I THINK I'M GONNA MAKE SOMETHING LIKE THAT FOR GOD.

And I'm like

Bro buddy I love you but if you think the length or challenge of this campaign is the only element that players are attracted to, you are missing the point yourself again. Complexity and tedious length for the fuck of it are simply not fun. It gets boring in video games much less having to stop and roll 32 dice every nothingburger room or pointlesss trap and having to do the algebra for it. You have to give them a reason to care, and you cant just TELL them they have to care, people don't work like that. All I hear on a game dev level is "they'll never run out of doors to kick and dice to roll. Plans beyond that? idfk".

Meanwhile our earlier convos like

honestly another reason me and the ex wife just weren't compatible RP types either beyond the romance push. During our first breakup in the early 201X period is when I first made Kion in concept as an offshoot of the old Zenthus character with all of this, started playing in someone's campaign, MADE the first Xorvintaal and she showed back up like, ok but since Zenthus is duality what if it was TWINS. And like. I cracked. Bc she wanted it. Like yeah sure why not. But the design went "big pretty strong blue elf with horns, anger problem" and stopped there, so now that I'm remastering it without her around, while literally NOTHING is lost mythologically or in plot contribution, I have this awkward stray end kinda writ in to acknowledge since other players in this server that survived the old cycles had MET said brother. And now I'm just. Stuck with this awkward lump of character tied to this otherwise flawless mythology even getting in the way of an actual HOOR AND SET BE TWINS build that would have been available with a brotherlike character, but no. Duality is one infinitely deep character and one pretty blue barbarian with giant moobs. Fml.

[3d10fire-damage]

Colors That Run Highlights 15

if you listen closely you can hear evil DM laughter in the background of this post (also we played on my birthday so everyone got inspiration)

We finished up a text RP scene between Fea and Calypso, that took place on the way back to Guild City. Basically Fea vented about not knowing who she was before death, saying that she must’ve done something terrible to have been beheaded. Calypso argued against this. Fea said that Calypso was “more charming than a corpse” and would be okay if the party disbanded, Calypso countered that she probably wouldn’t be, and stood firm on Fea not being a bad person, goddammit

Back home, Calypso headed next door for a booty call with Lin. On a nat 20 charisma check she hot bitch’d her way into topping Lin this time (”i’m not getting pegged on my birthday”)

The following morning the party received letters, now including Calypso. Fea waited patiently for her, so that Calypso could write a response letter back to Elise and Heidi for her.

Corrin went over to the Magi’s Guild to chat with Della. He asked her for help with the puzzle box, and she offered to have a higher level wizard take a look at it and open it if possible. Corrin appeared to charm Della quiet a bit during their conversation. Ladykiller Clutchhammer.

Slim and Dave hung out in the garden, smoking the weed Slim had been growing out there this whole time. This was a gay affair, involving shotgunning and sprawling out over the wall of the cabin’s well. Slim is an icon, I cannot my man any harder, etc.

Kattie soon noticed the smonking however, and came over to get her fair share. Not too long after, Calypso came outside and joined in as well. Then upon Corrin’s return, he tried it out too, apparently for the first time. Calypso tried to tell him to hold the smoke in as long as possible, otherwise it wouldn’t work, but he didn’t fall for it.

Corrin also determined that Astrid doesn’t really “get” wanting things or liking things, and she tends to freeze up when asked what she wants to do. They ended up taking a walk so Astrid could acquire some information about this new area.

A very stoned Kattie lied down next to Xio outside and just Vibed and napped the day away. A very stoned Slim went inside to start baking a shitload of cookies, while Dave watched over him. A very stoned Calypso went to buy some smokes (and the Ibera-equivalent of a chili dog). Slim grows strong shit. (The strain is called Ghost Rider.)

When Calypso returned to the cabin, she joined Slim and Fea in the kitchen, sitting half-leaned against Fea’s shoulder. After some discussion of Fea’s inability to have “desires of the flesh,” Slim and Calypso wondered if was possible to get Fea high. Slim improvised a funnel to deposit the smoke into the space behind her mask.

Surprisingly, after a few minutes Fea starting feeling something, and recalled a memory of a woman she described as attractive. (Medical marijuana for safe recovery of memories????)

During their high conversation, Slim took off his hat. Calypso hung it on one of her horns for a bit, then put it on Fea. Fea’s quiet “yeehaw” made Calypso (and me) giggle like an idiot. Slim ended up baking like three types of cookies.

Astrid learned of Corrin’s crush on Della, thus learning about the concept of crushes in general.

Corrin had Astrid stay in the kitchen over night to keep Fea company. Calypso fell asleep stretched across about three chairs. Fea brought a blanket out for her (she didn’t pick her up and take her to the sleeping quarters because that would’ve woke her up 🥺). Kattie slept outside all night.

In the morning, Corrin discovered the cookies and dug into the oatmeal raisin ones. Left alone in the bedroom, Slim made a move on Dave, though Dave, being a himbo, didn’t pick up on it immediately.

Calypso made sure Kattie was still alive, and suggested she get some cookies in the kitchen. When Calypso went back inside, she poked her head into the bedroom and, seeing Slim and Dave, immediately left and closed the door. After Slim screamed in despair into the mattress, Dave FINALLY caught on and closed the window. yeehaw 🤠

The party set out for the market, instructed by Slim to get groceries for their trip to Lavolis. On their way out, Corrin pounded on the bedroom door, like a little shit. Kattie, not wanting to bear witness to any of this, went “true blind” and stuck close to Fea.

They stopped by the Magi’s Guild to pick up the items from the puzzle box. These items were a Ring of the Ram, and some kind of marble elephant that couldn’t be fully identified. Fea, not being familiar with elephants, fingered inspected the marble one, and Della showed her a picture of one as well.

Della was acting rather shy and flustered by the group-- made worse by Calypso giving her eyes and winking at her for most of the time. After the rest of the group left in search of groceries, Corrin stayed behind to check in with Della (who said she wasn’t the best with people) and invite her on a date later in the day.

Turns out most of the Breakfast Club sucks at groceries. They had purchased only a few random food items before Corrin found them in the market again. He and Calypso argued a little about it, with Calypso pointing out the flaw in leaving her in charge of the task (technically she wasn’t, but she was the only one of them that could actually see).

Kattie, having made dinner for everyone before in Gilsa, took charge in getting stuff for that night’s meal, and from there they were able to get some supplies in bulk, so it wasn’t a total disaster.

Calypso discovered that Astrid appreciates praise and head pats. Her fans whirl happily when being pet, kinda like a cat. Much like a kid with a new button to press, Calypso did this repeatedly.

Afterward, the whole group visited Thedda to inform her of what they had learned about the missing persons cases. Thedda cautioned them against doing too much “charity work” so as not to devalue the heroes’ guild’s services. (Also, letters were mailed out. This is relevant to note)

On the road to Lavolis! Slim and Corrin had a conversation, discussing their previous argument re: Astrid, and confirming that they were (as a unit) okay. Afterward they (along with Calypso, who had been training with Dave) had some more gun practice.

Slim (and Kattie) were a bit reluctant to get on the boat to Acheron. Corrin offered some (now stale) oatmeal raisin cookies to help cheer up Slim.

The group finally landed on Acheron’s shore, at the Acheron Retrieval Port (ARP). It was immediately apparent that this region bore a connection to Hell, with a bigger portion of the population consisting of tieflings and people with devilish features.

As the party got off the boat however, the sky darkened very quickly, swirling with red clouds and sparking with lightning. Fea tried to ask a kobold passerby what was happening, but they apparently couldn’t speak. Calypso flagged down another tiefling, but instead of answering any questions, he pointed out that she had a black spot on her hand. And then more spots formed, and the shade started spreading... 😬

Calypso tried shaking this shade off of her arms, but it all kept spreading, unimpeded, even taking over her clothes. Then from the ground, iron shackles erupted and clamped around her wrists and ankles, forcing her to ground.

Despite being repelled by the force of whatever this was, Fea and Slim rushed back to keep trying to help Calypso. Slim was wondering out loud what could be causing this, suspecting Nik until he recalled that Calypso hadn’t signed anything for that one. He tried asking Calypso directly, but she was too overwhelmed to answer.

A black ring encircled Calypso, then closed in on her, and actually physically compressed her body until it was the shape and size of a coin. The coin was decorated with Calypso’s face, and as it rattled onto the ground, the sky cleared. The crowd that had been watching this event slowly dispersed, appearing mostly unfazed. But the party was very alarmed.

Corrin picked up the coin and cast Detect Magic, then, after scrambling around for some extra gold (provided ultimately by Slim), hurried to purchase a pearl so he could cast Identify on the coin as well.

In the meantime, Kattie cast Dispel Magic, but the effect was entirely blocked somehow, and Kattie was hit with the image of unbreakable iron chains.

While Fea was holding the coin, she discovered she could hear Calypso, so communication was in fact possible! However, it was also discovered that Calypso can tell when the coin is being held... because it causes her to feel pain all over her body. Also, she’s shackled by chains the whole time, and sees only darkness inside the coin. 😶

With the casting of Identify, Corrin determined Calypso had turned into a soul coin, and that using the coin for its “intended” purposes would eventually use up Calypso’s life. They would need to find whoever she signed the contract with in order to free her.

He asked Calypso for the details of her contract. Calypso explained that she had made the contract with some higher up in the guard at “the capital,” having to specify she meant Hestia and not Aegis. It actually took a moment to remember the details of this arrangement, having forgotten it was kinda the reason she left Acheron in the first place... oops

She couldn’t recall the name of this person, but she knew her mentor, Andraya, would know it. She said Andraya would be at Vorkrieg Monastery, which Fea received directions to by a funny-sounding local. (She also demanded why this place was just out in the middle of nowhere, which Calypso could not answer. Confused white cat at the table meme)

While held in Corrin’s grasp, a very distressed Calypso tried to hide her sniffles from him, but he noticed.

After Calypso explained that it hurt her to hold the coin, Fea deposited the coin into Corrin’s bag of holding (where she had a private emotional breakdown), and the group set out for Magnin, ultimately aiming for the monastery.

(Also Corrin was straight up like, if we have to kill this guard to save Calypso then so be it, I want my best friend back 😭😭😭)

On their way out of ARP, Slim bought a parasol for poor Kattie, who had been suffering in the heat for a long time now.

At some point the party realized that the coin was being gently pulled in one direction, like a very weak, distant magnet. Kattie suggested this could help lead them to the Hestia guard, a bit like a compass.

Magnin was bright and shiny, a bit like Vegas, but it also carried a hint of dangerous deception to it. It’s the kind of place people go to set up contracts, but they might also get swindled in some way. (One of the examples the DM used was someone going there to like put a hit out on their boss and idk I think that’s really funny)

After more travel (for reference, Calypso had spent about a week in the coin at this point), the party arrived at Vorkrieg Monastery. There were several dogs hanging out around the area, some of them watching the party curiously. An elder dressed in white robes approached and introduced himself as Walter.

Corrin got a little sassy with Walter (good), and Slim suggested he cool it. Walter meanwhile, per Slim’s request, sent a young man off to locate Andraya, despite the fact that she would apparently be in the middle of meditation at that time.

After a minute or so of Fea making small talk with Walter, a door flew open and a woman with tan skin and her hair pulled up in a bun emerged, looking very alarmed. She looked at the party and told them to come inside and explain the situation.

happy birthday to me! my character is experiencing CONSEQUENCES!!!

#dnd #colors that run #long post

[nitewrighter]

Hi hi! I always admired your writing, my favorite thing about it is how natural you can make people interact with each other.

But my question to you is, where do you draw inspiration from? Or if you have any references?

I have a fantasy story where the MC through some shenanigans, becomes a defacto student teacher, so most of the other characters she interacts with is high school aged students or other faculty staff. So we're looking at a about a decade difference older and younger. And im not sure how to write them without it feeling awkward or stilted.

Aw, thank you very much! I'd say I take inspiration from a whole lot of different places, both from my own life and from the media I consume. Both my parents are teachers who had summers off, so we would be able to travel a lot as I was growing up, and I got to see a lot of places, and I grew up in a big family, so there were lots of gatherings that put me in contact with lots of aunts and uncles and cousins, so you kind of grow up with a wide variety of interactions... I also roleplayed a lot in forum text RP's on gaiaonline when I was in high school and even in my first two years of college, which were themselves collaborative storytelling but also put me in contact with a lot of other amateur writers' voices and a lot of very distinct characters--sure a lot of them were anime knockoffs, but behind those anime knockoffs were very earnest and passionate voices. And I do have a degree in creative writing and was writing both academically and as a hobby in college (hoo!). But I've also always been hardcore into fantasy and science fiction from a young age, and also like... and like, that's kind of a whole melting pot in my brain. And I grew up reading a lot because I'd often be stuck after school with my parents working late grading papers. There's a lot of voices in my head and when I write I just.. tend to hear them. So lots of reading, lots of writing. Lots of getting out into the world. No small amount of Video Games.

As for your writing question, I think part of making dialogue feel natural is being willing to embrace the awkward. In the case of a student teacher, I can tell you that I actually work with a lot of people 10+ years my senior, and age differences with your coworkers really aren't as awkward as you think once you're past your mid-20's. There's some hierarchical stuff, because there's clear differences in levels of experience, but most of the time you're just... doing your job. I think basically the two questions you want to ask yourself when you're writing dialogue is:

A. What is this dialogue meant to accomplish? (Plot-wise, characterization-wise, exposition-wise... there's a lot of functions for dialogue! If you're just having characters talk for the sake of having them talk, you might find yourself stuck!)

B. How will the characters's own voices/characterizations, and their perception of the other character, affect this goal?

Let's say.. your MC is talking with a kind of stodgy, tenured-type teacher--real old school kind of guy. This is a guy who's very used to his routines, not really in the space to have a young person with approximately 20 minutes of experience disrupt what ain't been broke for 20 years for him. And oh lord, she looks like she has ideas. But they're still coworkers, so he's blandly polite but pretty terse.

"Oh no," you're saying, "Where's the banter? Where's the flow?"

Well that's just it: This ain't a marvel movie. Dialogue does not need to jingle keys in your face and be constant back-and-forth to be engaging. This is the part where all the "show don't tell" that all those writing classes have been talking about actually comes in. What's it like in the room? What are both of their body languages like? Does talking to this guy inexplicably make her sweater feel itchier, or is she just refusing to itch because she doesn't want this guy to think she's fidgety? Is she looking around the room for something, anything to talk about (environments are people too!!). Would they have misunderstandings? Uncomfortable pauses? Who wants to get out of the conversation first? The dialogue itself is only a part of a whole scene--so don't be afraid to zoom out to the scene.

As for the decade younger crowd, you can apply questions A and B as needed but keep in mind results may vary in terms of these whippersnappers' relationships to authority. No teacher is everyone's favorite teacher, and some kids are just straight-up assholes.

Anyway, Hope this helps.

#writing tip: Sometimes kids are straight-up assholes #…something you’d see on a Skyrim loading screen…

[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.

#writin stuff #please clap.

[rpmemesbyarat]

Hello Tumblr people. I’m 31 years old and I’ve been on Tumblr since 2014. That’s not really old, and that’s not really a long time, but I know it’s older and longer than a lot of other folks. Tumblr is a space mainly populated by teens and twenties, and I know when I was in that age group, I thought 31 was a Real Adult (TM) Which, shit, it’s not, it’s really not, especially not for me, but nonetheless, I have learned some things in my time that I wish I could impart to my younger self, and instead will impart to y’all. Take what you like and what works for you and leave the rest, I’m no expert or guru or authority on anything, I’m just trying to be helpful. Being nice costs nothing. I once was standoffish to someone who came and chatted to me in IMs. That guy later died. True story. I feel terrible about it to this day. I was wary and kind of snotty in those days and I regret that. It’s one thing to be careful about strangers approaching but that wasn’t what I did here. It costs nothing to be nice. It costs nothing to be friendly. To do stuff like show interest in others, care about what they have to say, comment when they share things about their day. These are tiny things that cost nothing but give so much. Don’t pass the opportunity by. And definitely don’t snub someone for no reason. If you don’t want to interact, you don’t have to, but don’t be cold about it unless it’s legitimately because you’re uncomfy with this person and want them to go away. Your safety and comfort do come before any obligation to be nice, but I hope it’s clear that’s not what I’m talking about here. Be a candle that lights other candles. You know what else costs nothing? Encouragement. There’s nothing stopping you from telling others what you like about their content, what they post, what they create, what thoughts they have, the things they say, or just how passionate they are about something. There’s nothing stopping you from saying you hope the best for someone going through a rough time, or how cute their pets are, or how you’re glad they got themselves a treat today. You don’t need to be someone’s therapist ---I know I sure don’t have the emotional energy for that--or have solutions for them, you don’t need to force yourself to say anything insincere or that you don’t have the spoons for, but when you can, say something positive to others. First impressions can be wrong but gut feelings are often right. Like I said, being nice should NEVER trump your own comfort or safety. If you get weird vibes from someone, book it. Sure, you could be wrong. I’ve been wrong about a lot of people. I’ve also been right about others, and should have left when I had the chance before they could prove to me how right I was. Technically, there was nothing stopping me. It was online, after all. I could have just vanished and they’d probably never have tracked me down or made contact again. But I was lonely, and socially awkward, and like many people, most of my human contact was online, and I thought that this was worth it. It’s not. Whatever kind of friendship or therapeutic RP or free art or support or compliments or advice you’re getting from someone online. . . it’s not worth it if they’re mean or creepy too. Whatever you are getting, you can find it somewhere else, in someone else, who won’t make you have to put up with that kind of crap for it. If something feels wrong, don’t wait around for it to get worse. Yes, you may be incorrectly judging a situation and running from nothing, but it’s better you run from nothing than NOT run from SOMETHING. And I know that things like anxiety disorders, trauma, and just different communication styles can make it hard to judge these things (I’ve thought people didn’t like me before just because they were far less effusive in their typing style than I am, and I was wrong) but if you really feel uncomfortable, like this person has said mean or sexual things to you, it’s not just the brain weasels telling you lies. If you’re truly in doubt, get another person’s opinion, but also don’t let them convince you “it’s nothing” if it feels like something. Trust yourself. Creeps, like children, will test your boundaries. Kids will do shit just to see what they can get away and how far they can push you before you put your foot down. Creeps are the same. They’ll start with stuff that you can easily ignore, brush off, and put up with without feeling it’s worth ditching the whole friendship over. But they’ll rarely let it stay there. They’ll typically escalate it if they’re not rebuked. Rebuke them. It can be scary. It can be hard. I know this. I know it firsthand. But feel no sympathy. Feel no fear. Tell them off and pack your bags. They want to know how much you’ll put up with? Show them----nothing at all, that’s what. Don’t be afraid to change your views but don’t feel the need to broadcast it. I’m never getting a personal Tumblr. Because I’m glad they weren’t around when I was a teen. I would have posted things I don’t believe now. Same for when I’m in my 20s. And I bet that will the be the case in my 40s, 50s, and 60s too. Our lives are journeys of changing, learning, and unlearning. And that’s great. But if you post every step of your journey for the world to see, there are those who will use it against you, even if it was stuff from years ago that you should be applauded for growing from, not derided for having ever believed in. Not to mention that what’s the most up-to-date woke terminology and politics changes very rapidly, and what was acceptable when I was a teen is not the preferred lingo now, and it’s likely going to keep changing, and there will be people who find your posts and don’t care about that either. I realize Tumblr gives us a format to metaphorically scream our present beliefs and show how right what you believe is, and the urge to reblog when you see something you agree with wholeheartedly is strong. And if you’ve got a blog that doesn’t easily connect back with you, or you don’t plan to have for the next five years, or whatever, go ahead. But if your blog can be easily connected to you, and therefore could be connected to you again in the future, it wouldn’t hurt to be a bit judicious. I’m not saying “don’t take a stand on anything ever because you might change your mind and/or someone might drag you”, I am saying that in the age of cancel culture and people deep digging for ancient receipts, young people are no longer getting to have their journeys, with all their rooms for fuckups and re-thinkings, that I and those before me got to have, and I think that sucks. By all means, take a stand on what you believe in now, fight for it with all your heart, just also don’t make it too easy for other people to use it against you should you ever change your mind---and don’t be afraid to change your mind either, even when it’s against the grain of what’s presently popular opinion. Find things out for yourself when possible You know how when they taught you things in school about history and America and whatnot and now you’ve found out that there’s so much they DIDN’T tell you, and at least half of what they did is a very edited sack of hooey? Well, the same is true of Tumblr, Facebook, and other online spaces as well as real life. We all laugh at our Boomer parents and grandparents who share clearly false stories on Facebook because they can’t tell that it was clearly crafted to incite their anger or endorsement based on how it’s tailored to validate their beliefs, but I see the same thing happen here. Loads of tale gets touted as “true” on Tumblr because they have been made to appeal to us emotionally by validating our beliefs. But just because our beliefs may be good or progressive or what have you, does not mean that everything that appeals to them is going to be true. When you see a post circulating that claims something really cool about history or such is true, I suggest fact-checking it. This will help halt the spread of misinformation---even if it’s harmless---and help you build your critical thinking and research skills. This does not mean “you must change your views” it means “be skeptical even when something validates your views” People on our own side can lie, and that’s not harmless even if it seems so---contributing to a culture of misinformation is NOT harmless, and we’re less likely to be skeptical of claims that validate what we already believe. Don’t fall for this. That’s all. I hope something in here was valuable to you. If not, thank you for reading and I hope you have a great day!

[sapphire-innit]

DRISTAAAAA TIMEEE

VOD: TommyInnit Speaks To Dream’s Sister AGAIN

(rp): Drista!! I love this chaotic child and am looking forward to seeing the children bully each other lmao. I especially love the mythos around Creative mode, and that the most benevolent god on the Dream SMP is just as likely to ban you as hand you a shulker box lol.

I do wonder how in character cc!Tommy is going to be able to stay during this stream: on one hand he’s a master at staying in character even during lh moments, and on the other Exile arc is some Dark Shit and Dristas like what, 14?? Overall I expect this to be one of the lighter streams, with a smattering of moments where we remember that, oh right, Tommy’s pretty actively suicidal at this point and he sees this as one of his last hurrahs.

Speaking of our boy Tommy: it's very clear we are getting closer and closer to the infamous pillar. He switches rapidly between Fight and Fawn reflexes and has mostly internalized Dream’s treatment and conditions at this point. The one stand out moment being him calling out Dream killing Mexican Dream last stream, and pointing out he was changing his story even when Dream tried to lie and say he died of “a drug overdose [...] or natural causes”. I’m curious if Tommy is going to bring it up again, and even more curious if he eventually believes Dream about it; something to watch out for, for sure. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that this moment of rebellion happened right after he had someone both stand up for him and spend time with him that wasn’t actively hostile or going to end (supposedly, at least by intention)

Hey we didn’t start off drowning for once!! cc!Tommy was also singing, though that could have been mostly out of character as well. Still, remarkably in a better mood, he even mentions having an appetite! You love to see it, and it's clearly because he’s looking forward to Drista’s visit

He’s building a log tower and on one hand, Tommy building Towers is a natural state of being, and on the other…. I know the pillar is coming and I am scared

A mention of the Anti-Dream hole… I still worry about when exactly and how Dream is going to find it. Still, I’m glad it exists, both for Tommy having a space for things important to him, as well as what it represents about his mental state re:not giving over completely to Dream

DRISTA!!!! LOL she was already online we didn't even see her join LOL. CHAOS GREMLIN she just flew over in creative mode and started wrecking shit, as is her right lmaoooo

“You massive jer--, (quieter) whats a nicer way…, YOU MASSIVE DICKHEAD” oh, Tommy..

I like how he tries to punch her even when shes CLEARLY IN CREATIVE MODE ADSADASD

The violence inherent in fourteen year olds,,,, adsfsadfsdfds

I hate this conversation why is this the conversation asdffdsfsd TEENAGERS

DREAM YOUR NOT EVEN A TEENAGER WHY ARE YOU FOLLOWING THE SAME LOGIC

Well SHE can destroy the obsidian asdfsdfds She just Spleefs

“What would Dream do” Probably worse lets be honest

Is he actually gonna go back to L’manburg?? I don’t believe it but I also want :(

Again with the stabbing

AND DOWN HE GOEEEESSSS

“I have the fork, but I'm also killing you” afsafsdfdsf Tommy why are you wearing your good shit omg

Lol cc!Dream trying to defend his character for mocking Tommy’s accent adsfsdfds “I would NEVER” in the totally not believable tone lmaoooo

DID SHE REALLY GO AT HIM WITH A FORK I'M FUCKING DYING DSAFDADSFDS

“I will take it from you and I’ll kill him”... I have so many thoughts about how this works in lore. Is Drista possessing Dream? He can kick her out clearly, but she still has God Powers…

Lol and now SHES mocking his accent lmaoooo (... is it bad she sounded pretty close to me? lol)

Adsfdsfswd casual chaos Drista just broke the Nether Portal

Asking Drista to stop destroying things is a big ask to be honest lmaoo. Also she seems to be at least somewhat informed that ‘Dream is not supposed to be nice to Tommy’ or at least seemed hesitant to do /weather clear

GOD THE LAVA BUCKETS AND THE POTION OF HARMING adsfsdfsdf

“Tommy [beheaded him] actually… and killed Mexican Dream” Dream you motherfucker

“How to Sex 3” THE PANIK!!!!!! From Both cc!Dream and Tommy!!! This server is Not Child Friendly lol (Doesn’t…. That not even include sex things…. afasfsd)

Honestly I can’t stop smiling this is so wholesome somehow even with all the cursing and violence

Pigstep IS a bop, Tommy is right

“Just let him, just let him this one time” :(

“Tommy I still have the Fork” Drista totally willing to stab her brother to visit L’manburg

HE TOOK THE FORK ASDASDAS

Yes, closing your eyes will totally protect you from Forks lol

“I don’t need school, I dropped out” Is this Lore Crumbs, is this Lore

HEYYYY ITS THE BEDROCK, the one piece of bedrock he has lol, I think he still has that in current day right?

Drista is writing her name in BEDROCK adsfsdfds “I’m not going to be able to get rid of that actually” “That's the Point”

LOL SHe also recognized the burrito as from Mos lmaooo

Somehow “I really want to go to the other place.. I don’t know why he won’t let you” hit hard… it was def ooc, and she doesn’t have the full context, but still… its just someone else wanting and asking for Tommy to be able see L’manburg…

Afsdfsd the Small Gasp when she spleefs herself omgg

HES THERE!!! HES THERE!!!!!! L’MANBURG!!!!!!

Punz!!! WHY!!!! Were you there bc Drista might let Tommy through, was this a safeguard for the LORE. Also he’s currently working for Dream directly right, as a merc?

Drista trying to save Tommy!!!! Punz why are you winning a fight with someone in creative adfsadfsd He’s too good lol

They have negotiated a visit… I’m so emotional I wasn’t expecting this…. No one told me we got a real L’manburg visit !

BIG Q SHES FOURTEEN!!! Omg they didn’t tell him it was Drista. BIG Q!!! BIG Q DON’T SELL HER DRUGS

“He was Naked” good for you Drista, good for you. There’s something so hilarious about Drista just stabbing Quackity over and over again cause she’s uncomfortable lol (as is her right)

LOL THE FINAL KILL WITH MAGIC WHEN HE’S ALREADY DROWNING IM

Wha --- what video was it????? What is this Tommy picture on the Technoganda???

….”are you sure I’m allowed here” Dream’s conditioning is strong :(

“At many minute I could get mugged” To be Fair Tommy, that was true before

Did Tommy just suggest spawning in a Wither asdfsdfds

DRISTA DOG ARMY!!!! Aww and Tommy has one too~

THE BENCH!! THE HOUSE!!! Aaaaaaaaa He’s sitting on the bench nature is HEALING

AAAAAAAA A BLAZE!!!! Pfffft

…. Who destroyed the front of Tommys house?

,,,,Drista what are you doing with that soULSAND

“OK we'll turn on him” adsfsdfsd

OH HEY TECHNO!!! Lol “Oh god he meant me” fucking mood big man

……. Tubbo hallucination……… fuck

LOL HE COMBAT LOGGED “YOU CALL THAT COMBAT” I'M

To be fair, logging against a /kill is probably the only way to get away lmao

…...F

“Getting thrown off a cliff is literally how Theseus died!!” lol its also hilarious to me that Tommy def does not remember being called that. Personally I don't think it fits him super well anyway, but I do like it as something Techno calls Tommy, that shows how much he misjudges Tommy's character and intentions. No heroes here, just a kid trying to do good by their friends and what they care about

Techno actually looking up how to kill someone in creative mode

…. :( I just want my actual clingyduo content this is meeeeannn

OH HEY TECHNO …. You fucker he would and it would be HILARIOUS (get mad if Drista opped Techno that is lol)

….

….

IS THIS WHY THEY’RE BEDROCK BROS????? BECAUSE THEY BOTH HAVE DRISTA BEDROCK??????????????????????????

HOW DID I NOT KNOW THIS ???

LOL TRUE DUO SUPREMACY TUBBO’S GOT TECHNO'S BEDROCK

Oh F Techno got him with the Obliterator lmaoooo

“I have 114 levels PLEASE” asdfdasfsdf

LOL Tubbo with the TNT there's our nuke boy, I'll take my crumbs where I can get them

THE SHULKER HOLY SHIT

“Don't let someone get it!!”” ADSFDSAFSDFDS they all tuRN CC REAL QUICK WHEN THE SHULKER BOXES COME OUT

Awesamdudes like: MORE PLEASE AFDASFDSF

Techno immediately snitching about Elytra and dRISTA GETTING THE ACHIEVEMENT

EVERYONE SNITCHING IN CHAT I'M!!!! DREAMS REACTION ASDFSDFDSF

Drista being the chaotic giver of illegal gifts is so fucking good I'M THRIVING

THE RUN ON PUNZ !!!! omg

Also can we just take a minute to appreciate Tommy being allowed around people <3 <3 This is so wholesome and good and chaotic as all hell

“I thought I was Tom Cruz for like a whole week” ...TOMMY??

LOL SHE BANNED TECHNO OMG

Dristas on a banning Rampage afsdfsdf

BAN GOGGY OMGGG

Omg shes actually making a wITHER DASDASDFAS

Oh no poor Tubbo I didn’t know he was liVE

319k viewers jeezus

Awwwww Techno hyping up Wilbur's song :) that's so sweet actually

…………….Fuck you Dream :( saw the chance to Twist the Knife in c! And TOOK IT

LOL THE FUCKING FORK IS THE BEST BIT LOLLLL

Lol ironically the Bedrock bros song is the oNE COPYRIGHTED ONE, god why did Minecraft ever copyright Pigstep what a shit move honestlyyy

Pigstep fucking goING TO TECHNO LOLLLLLL “this is the most powerful item on the server since it DMCA’s people”

LOL PUNZ TRYING TO STEAL ANOTHER SHULKER

Poor Sam he actually has to BUILD give this man a SHULKER

Lol Everyone wants a shulker so much

….aww he tried to toss the pigstep disc lmaooo DRISTAS LITERALLY HOLDING IT Scaaaaaammmmed

Drista “I NEED IT ON HAND” So committed to violence !!!

The fucking creepers on the way out omg fuckign PERFECT

LOL TOMMY WASN’T READY FOR THE TURN AROUND ON CURSING LMAO You can tell he's always been the youngest who people aren't sure how much they can curse around lmao He's so soft honestly he talks such a big game and then CRUMBLES when called on it lol

Asfdsfs she fell through the same hole again afsdfsdfsd

Drista has been introduced to a Weapon and she’s gotten ATTACHED lmaooo

Wait HOLD THE PHONE Dream has multiple sisters??? Lol

“Yeah I like Shit” Dream: “whAT???”

Bye Drista it’s been nice!!! I hope she had a good time, she seems like a good kid (who is definitely not a content creator lol though she keeps up admirably)

Drista’s one of the few people who can make Tommy speechless lmaooo he looks actually shocked lol

Also first mention of GhostInnit…. cc!Tommy…..

Keep preparing…. Was his original plan to rush Dream even if (maybe especially if…) he died? Fuck man

Also holy shit was this stream right before Quackitys? ? amazing

This was honestly such a BLAST and a really good time, and I can see why its viewed as one of the few breaks we get during Exile :) I feel so refreshed and it was so so nice to have Tommy hanging out in L’manburg having fun with his friends (even if Tubbo was stuck being a Hallucination and Also Banned lol) No deeper insight, I just haven’t stopped smiling for an hour and a half <3

#dream smp liveblog #dsmp exile arc #tommyinnit #drista #technoblade #dreamwastaken #the shulker man the SHULKER #Ive been hearing about that for AGES glad to see the actual footage

[frayededges]

i’m trying not to be as negative (publicly) as i have been cause i know it doesn’t do me any favors, like at all especially in this case but fuck it i feel like bitching today.

i cannot express how badly i want to feel like my muses matter and have consequence here and ig rn i don’t feel like i have much of that and i’m just simply tired. i don’t feel like my blogs are COMPLETELY devoid of meaningful interactions, but like i do feel like i’m missing out on like the camaraderie that comes from having like a GROUP of friends or like having muses be so entangled with each other that they’re inseparable or just generally like all being apart of the same fandom and not feeling like everyone’s just in their own world. like i want my muses to matter, i want to feel like i take up space in the rpc and that alice (and my other muses) but especially my various versions of alice EXIST! i don’t want to just keep posting into the void, or reblogging memes and hearing crickets. i want to have fun and post stupid anons and make playlists and edits for people. i want to tell a story with other people and have it have consequences. 

like a week ago maybe i sent something to one of my mutuals and i’m pretty sure they didn’t recognize me cause i wasn’t on the blog we have interacted on in the past and like it’s not a huge deal and i know people have shit going on and i’m trying not to take it too personally. but like it made me feel really shitty, not like upset at the person shitty, but like generally upset that like it feels like i don’t take up the space in other people’s lives that they take up in mine. i don’t want this to come off as a vague because IM NOT UPSET WITH THIS PERSON! it’s just like a good example of the kind of feeling i have about rp rn.

and like unfortunately the effects of this have meant i’ve just kind of given up hope. i still send memes, like shit and try to follow new people but like i’ve stopped expecting to write with people cause i just kinda feel like if i don’t expect anything then i won’t get my feelings hurt when people don’t respond or don’t follow me back or something. i don’t feel excited to follow new people or send memes, i feel dread. and i feel dread when i see ‘affiliated with’ or i see someone has a full ass mains page because even if they DID write with me or follow me back it just feels like there’s no room for me 

and rn it feels like there’s no room for me at all in any rpc.

i dont know what i want out of this. i dont want to be told the same shit i always get told because i can tell you right now “be more outgoing! be the change you want to see in the rpc” isnt fucking working for me. and i know that because i spent all day SOBBING over this yesterday. i know i wont get the magical cheat code or anything and i know there’s no real easy tangible solution. i just wanted to scream. and i have screamt.

#negativity tw #rant tw #to be deleted eventually

[nostalgiaruinedme]

Hey I love your fics and writing style and well since I've been meaning to start writing fics I wanted to ask you if you have some advice you'd give.

Ohhh advice? Sure, I can do that! I shall bestow all of my knowledge upon you now, but you gotta look below the cut. Shhhh, it's a secret~

Okay really I just knew this was going to be a really long post and didn't want to clog up everyone's dash lol. ONTO WRITING ADVICE

I kind of live by these rules in writing:

1. Know the rules before you break them 2. ANYTHING can be inspiration 3. Remember the doll 4. Use your resources 5. Don’t hold yourself back 6. Practice 7. Enjoy yourself!!

1. Know the rules before you break them

Pay attention in English class (or whichever class for the language you're writing in) and learn the grammar!! I don't always have perfect grammar in my fics and sometimes I consciously choose to ignore grammar rules to make it more impactful, but you HAVE to know the rules before you break them. Study those grammar lessons! Learn how to use the fun punctuation, like semi colons and em dashes and en dashes and all that good stuff. I know they're scary, but they're a lot of fun too.

ALSO PLEASE USE PARAGRAPH BREAKS IM BEGGING that's like, a HUGE problem I see with a lot of new writers. Paragraph breaks are not optional!! Change 'em when the main topic of the paragraph switches or when a new character is speaking. Overdoing it with paragraph breaks is better than underdoing it, I promise.

2. ANYTHING can be inspiration

Have you ever played Story Cubes?

If you haven’t, it’s essentially this game where you roll the cubes, they each land on a different image, and you gotta tell a story that uses all of those pictures. Some are literally just a question mark or a speech bubble and that’s what you have to use. Me and my siblings used to play the game a lot. And you know what? Some of those stories are the most creative ones we’ve ever come up with. When I say anything can be inspiration for a story or a character, I mean ANYTHING!

I based my Donnie design off of the vintage globes and journals I have in my bedroom.

My little sister threw a pillow at me and it inspired a funny scene I wanted to write in another fic

I designed two OCs off of Mars and Pluto and an ENTIRE 40,000 word fanfiction based off of a space documentary I watched

My NaNoWriMo story last year was based off of the concept of shadows and how cool I thought it’d be if they could talk

Me and my friend made an entire dystopian original story commenting on our world today. It was first inspired by a crack self insert Death Note RP we had at 13 years old. Not kidding.

Literally anything can be inspiration. Challenge your mind!! The best ideas come out of completely ordinary and unexpected opportunities, in my experience. You don’t need one of those super detailed and crazy expensive prompt books (though they are fun) to write a great story. Use music, use a color, use the sky, use your favorite food, use anything! Just find inspiration!

3. Remember the Doll

Remember Mulan?

We never got to see the Huns destroy the village and we didn’t get to see them kill anyone there either. But by showing that doll there, the animators took an entire battle full of death and destruction and summed it all up in one, heartbreaking moment. You don’t need to spend ten pages writing about how horrifying the bad guy was and listing everything he did from start to finish, nor do you need to write an analysis on why she’s bad. All you need to do is show one or two very meaningful ways they impacted the world... and you can do that with something as simple as a doll lying on the ground in a burning village.

Because the doll is there; the little girl is not.

There’s a quote that sums this up really well, and I have it written on the dry erase board by my desk.

“You don't write about the horrors of war. No. You write about a kid's burnt socks lying in the road.”                     - Richard Price

And adding onto that, try to write more about what’s there, not what isn’t. Mulan didn’t say ANYTHING about the girl in that scene, but by showing what was there, it told us a story about what wasn’t. Focus on what is in the scene and it will tell your reader about what isn’t.

I do think writing a balance is good though, so I try and keep it around a 3/1 ratio of what is there vs what isn’t. Remember this is art though, not math; you can change the formula as you please just to make it feel right. It all depends on the scene and what you want.

4. Use Your Resources

You know how, in the artist community, there’s this sort of stigma around using references? And some artists have to make posts reminding others that there’s nothing wrong with using references and you even should use them?

It’s the same concept in writing!

There is NOTHING wrong with looking to other writers’ work or keep a thesaurus constantly open or bookmarking a reference page of other words to use than “said”. Nothing wrong with it at all! When I write, I always have two tabs open: my writing document and thesaurus.com. I have a folder on my computer bookmarks of ways to describe a smile and a body language dictionary. Before I write fanfic, I watch a “best moments of *character*” compilation video on Youtube to remind myself of how they speak. I watch fight scenes from The 100 or Avatar or Marvel while I write my own battles!

There are SO MANY resources out there for you to reference. Use them! And if you need some to start with, shoot me an ask. I have a ton.

5. Don’t Hold Yourself Back

One of the scariest parts of writing is the thought of “what will people think?” Creative writing is EXTREMELY personal, and you’re going to find a lot of you inside your work, including the thoughts you didn’t want anyone to know about. 

People will discover how often you think about love. People will discover how dark your mind can get. People will discover the morals you hold that even you didn’t know about. They’ll discover that the person you swore you’ve moved on from is still on your mind. They’ll discover that the pain you swore you got over still hurts you.

“you can tell the deepest truths with the lies of fiction”                     - Isabel Allende

This thought scared me a lot, and still does. I’ve let go of and forgotten about so many story ideas because they were just a little too personal. I could write it and not publish it, but what if someone still sees? Writing, like all art, comes right from the heart and reveals a lot about a person. That paranoia of being known kept me from writing so much.

But I promise you, your most powerful stories are going to be the most personal ones.

I wrote Hated Resemblance based on my thoughts about myself, and I wrote Dagger From the Mirror based on thoughts about myself too. A lot of it is dark, most is painful, and all of it is scary to show the world. But I wrote it anyways and it’s created something pretty amazing.

Hell, even now I’m wondering if I should post that lil anecdote, but I think it’s the best way to make this part of my point stronger. See? Writing about things that affect you is the best way to make them impactful, even for something as simple as advice.

And even if you want to write about light and happy stories- you’re still going to have to get personal.

This all got pretty deep but my point is this: Don’t hold yourself back. Write what you feel you need to and it don’t worry about what anyone will think. Don’t hide that one sentence because you’re scared who will read it because you’re scared to be known so deeply. Add it in even when it’s scary. 

That’s something I’m still learning how to do, and it’s a slow process that has taken years... but it’s worth it, I promise.

“Write what disturbs you, what you fear, what you have not been willing to speak about. Be willing to be split open.”                     - Natalie Goldberg

6. Practice

I started writing in 1st grade. I’ve written regularly since then, and this is my word count every month this year:

Most of that is fanfiction. Some are just random thoughts, some are really thought out posts or answers to your questions, and some are made up of original stories. That total words written number is since November.

You don’t have to write this much every month, I promise, I just don’t really have any other hobbies lol. My point is that practice is really really really important. Write a paragraph or even just a sentence every day. You’re gonna improve so quickly, I promise.

“Write every day. Writing is a muscle that gets stronger with use.”                     - Abbi Glines

But take breaks too!!! Don’t overwork yourself. Burn out is a real thing and you shouldn’t force yourself to write just because you’re scared you don’t write enough! Write at a pace that’s comfortable for you. There will always be writers out there who write more than you and even more writers who write less than you. That’s okay. Everyone has a pace they’re comfortable with, and you just gotta find yours. As long as you’re writing consistently, the numbers don’t matter too much. 50 words a day or 5000 are both good!

7. Enjoy Yourself!!

You’re here to have fun!

No matter what you’re writing (angst, romance, fix-it, AUs, hurt/comfort, fluff, ANYTHING), remember that fic writing is supposed to be fun!! You’re not getting paid to do this. On one hand, that sucks, but on the other hand it gives you the amazing opportunity to write literally whatever you want! Find projects you’re enthusiastic about, meet other writers, do collabs, make playlists for your story, create over powered OCs for the hell of it, ignore plot holes and write without regard to canon, or write the most realistic and in-depth canon-compliant book ever. Create the most self indulgent story you can think of! 

Have fun. This is your story and you get to write the rules. Don’t let anyone ever tell you otherwise.

Oh yeah, and one more thing. Be proud of yourself. You can get all of the comments and feedback in the world, but if you’re not proud of what you wrote, it’s gonna be hard to look back on it with joy. Be proud no matter how many reads it gets—you made it!

“I think I did pretty well, considering I started out with nothing but a bunch of blank paper.”                     - Steve Martin

#can you tell I like writing quotes #I have a whole pinterest board full of them #asks #writing advice #writblr #fanfiction #meg rambles