And look, yes he does!! He MUST FUSS--at least while he's on his feet. When he's sitting, though, his energy slowly starts to settle again; it won't take long for that drowsiness to creep back in.]
Make sure to drink the whole thing... hangovers are the worst... [She could drink you under the table idiot]
Don't have one. [Tips over... leaning on her, slightly, because I have to torture you as much as possible while I still can.] Gave Margaret and Anise the room.
a long pause. she does not push him off of her, but instead shifts so that he falls over and is in her lap instead? is this what you wanted luke i bet it isn't]
[LMFSKJDHG HELP WE JUST THREAD WEEK 0 FOR THE WHOLE GAME
THE BULLY LAUGH IS SO CUTE AND SHE IS CORRECT FOR IT!! He does, in fact, explode--rather, his emotions kind of puff up into a burst of static, his ears bright red.]
I--no! That wasn't--
[HYELP. He is such a top but right now you'd never believe it.
Less cute and funny are the other emotions tangled up in that flustered, tipsy embarrassment--threads of guilt and conflict woven through, and the sensation of withdrawal, not unlike a stray dog creeping backward into an alley.
flurry — 02/05/2024 6:18 PM PIXI LIKE IM GONNA RUN BUT HEY
He has, however, somehow convinced himself that she's drunk enough to need fussing even if she already told him to stop, so right now what this means is that he just kind of sits here and vibrates in place as he tries to decide how to flee and stay here to watch over her simultaneously]
IS HE A TOP I'M NOT SURE I BELIEVE THAT. anyway, he gets embarrassed, and she's very amused by that. it's not that she doesn't feel the threads - the guilt, the way he wants to get away, but she doesn't quite know what to do with it. when she feels something like that, she does not allow it. so. if it upsets him, she trusts him to tell her no.
she just watches him agonize for a second, and impulsively brushes his hair out of his face.]
[Looks at Luke's lore looks out the window... sometimes you're a top but it's complicated... death is now a prerequisite quest for this tragic backstory, whomp whomp.
She is right that he'd tell her to stop if he really wanted to, though; and maybe that, too, is a little bit of the reason for that complex knot of emotion. The fact that he doesn't--that he lets her push his bangs away, that he obediently lifts his water bottle and drinks from it like she says--only worsens that knot, but for now, he doesn't say anything. Instead, he simply lets her amusement fill the air between them, dampening the effects of his own.
He keeps himself upright, this time, toying with the water bottle.]
How's the coffee? [Safety redirection for safety...]
she tilts her head back, sorting through. the knot is concerning, in a distant sort of way, but she doesn't press. she's just enjoying what she has, for now. stealing away little moments, like she always does. she doesn't often get things like this.]
You're a master of your craft. [she tells him, bringing it up to sip.] I've been ruined for all other coffee.
[It's fine it's fine it's fine... it's better that it goes unacknowledged, really, and his vibes and body language immediately relax. In fact, there's that stupid burst of pride again--WHY DOES HE LOOK SO SMUG. HE'S NOT A BARISTA!!!]
Pretty good, right? [HEHE] I promised Dahut I'd make drinks for him, to go with his baking. I'll make a fancier one next time!
[Even he isn't dumb enough to use a milk steamer when he's tipsy]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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You don't -- [she starts, amused, but. he comes back, and when he does, she will help him sit down.] Thank you.
[takes the water bottle.]
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And look, yes he does!! He MUST FUSS--at least while he's on his feet. When he's sitting, though, his energy slowly starts to settle again; it won't take long for that drowsiness to creep back in.]
Make sure to drink the whole thing... hangovers are the worst... [She could drink you under the table idiot]
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You are fussing. Stop. [sits down next to him.] Do you ever stop moving?
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He is listing to the side again though]
Of course. I sleep five whole hours every day.
[Sound less proud of this terrible fact]
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[she says, dry as the desert. watches him slowly tip over.]
I'm not going to carry you to bed.
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a long pause. she does not push him off of her, but instead shifts so that he falls over and is in her lap instead? is this what you wanted luke i bet it isn't]
Then you can sleep on the floor out here.
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No, I gotta guard the door...
[
for like ten seconds before he realizes what's happened and bolts upright]
I'll see you later--!
[WOW LOOK AT THE TIME]
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i'm sorry to report when he bolts upright she fuckin' laughs like a bully, just straight up. it's warm and a little giggly because she is tipsy.]
Hot and cold... [she teases, reaching to hold the back of his shirt.] First you can't keep your hand off me and now you're trying to run.
[you're going to make him explode]
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THE BULLY LAUGH IS SO CUTE AND SHE IS CORRECT FOR IT!! He does, in fact, explode--rather, his emotions kind of puff up into a burst of static, his ears bright red.]
I--no! That wasn't--
[HYELP. He is such a top but right now you'd never believe it.
Less cute and funny are the other emotions tangled up in that flustered, tipsy embarrassment--threads of guilt and conflict woven through, and the sensation of withdrawal, not unlike a stray dog creeping backward into an alley.
flurry — 02/05/2024 6:18 PM
PIXI LIKE IM GONNA RUN BUT HEY
He has, however, somehow convinced himself that she's drunk enough to need fussing even if she already told him to stop, so right now what this means is that he just kind of sits here and vibrates in place as he tries to decide how to flee and stay here to watch over her simultaneously]
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IS HE A TOP I'M NOT SURE I BELIEVE THAT. anyway, he gets embarrassed, and she's very amused by that. it's not that she doesn't feel the threads - the guilt, the way he wants to get away, but she doesn't quite know what to do with it. when she feels something like that, she does not allow it. so. if it upsets him, she trusts him to tell her no.
she just watches him agonize for a second, and impulsively brushes his hair out of his face.]
Drink more water, Luke.
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She is right that he'd tell her to stop if he really wanted to, though; and maybe that, too, is a little bit of the reason for that complex knot of emotion. The fact that he doesn't--that he lets her push his bangs away, that he obediently lifts his water bottle and drinks from it like she says--only worsens that knot, but for now, he doesn't say anything. Instead, he simply lets her amusement fill the air between them, dampening the effects of his own.
He keeps himself upright, this time, toying with the water bottle.]
How's the coffee? [Safety redirection for safety...]
no subject
she tilts her head back, sorting through. the knot is concerning, in a distant sort of way, but she doesn't press. she's just enjoying what she has, for now. stealing away little moments, like she always does. she doesn't often get things like this.]
You're a master of your craft. [she tells him, bringing it up to sip.] I've been ruined for all other coffee.
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Pretty good, right? [HEHE] I promised Dahut I'd make drinks for him, to go with his baking. I'll make a fancier one next time!
[Even he isn't dumb enough to use a milk steamer when he's tipsy]