illequipped | i make another inbox post

[Great, no murder, only cuddling now. Lalli is fine, and Emil is so very, very happy that he's fine, and here, and so holding him and looking at rocks is what he's doing now. That's... it's a rock. Lalli pulls a rock out of thin air and Emil honestly did not know that was a thing they could do, but never mind - he's supposed to look at the nice rock now, he supposes.

...It's a rock...]

Hmm, right, it has my eyes.

[How does this rock look like him at all?? It's a pretty rock, he supposes, and it gives him a nice, warm feeling to know that Lalli thought about him enough to find this thing and bring it back, but he doesn't see it. Still - cool rock? Is it for him? Is this his rock now?]

It's pretty? It looks nice!

[But what does he DO with it!!]

[...He doesn't get it. Like, that's so incredibly obvious, and sleepy!Lalli finds that so incredibly irritating? This is a special rock that he picked out because it reminded him of a certain dumb Swede, that he went out of his way to actually ask someone about, but instead of beaming back at him, Emil just looks... lost.

...Ugh! Lalli huffs, clearly mildly annoyed even though he's trying not to be. He knows how Emil operates! This shouldn't be a surprise at all, and yet—!]

No.

[He doesn't want to pull very far away, but he pulls back just enough to straighten up a tad. Look at this rock! Look at it as he brings it closer, holds it higher. It's surprisingly... important to Lalli that Emil GETS this.]

It does have your eyes? The blue looks like your blue, but—it has your hair, too. [The gold flecks here and there, which is why he wriggles his arm free from against Emil and taps a finger to the largest spot he can find.] Your hair when you're in the sun. It's bright, and it shines like that.

[This is some real shitty poetry, Emil, and it's definitely taking up the last of his energy reserves. Appreciate it.]

[What— apparently not getting this rock thing is somehow offensive, and Emil is worried for a second that Lalli will pull away from him completely and go sulk under the bed or something, but... no? No, he's just waving the rock in Emil's face, alright.]

Uh— I'm looking, I'm looking.

[He IS, but this is... it's a rock, Lalli. The bad poetry isn't actually much help with the rock problem, but on its own it's something else to behold. He has his own blue? Lalli has been paying this much attention to what his hair looks like in the sun? That he understands, even if he'll never look at this rock and think of his own hair. That stuff, the shitty poetry stuff, that's sooo... mmm.

Well, his rock is the best rock, and his boy is the best boy, that's for certain. He has no words for this feeling for a solid moment, but thankfully their mental link means Lalli can feel his endeared confusion give way to warm, cozy fondness once Emil understands... something. Enough!]

I— okay. Yes. I like it. Let me hold it!

[He will treasure this Gay Rock forever. Not as much as he treasures this strange, strange boy, whose waist he squeezes his arm a little tighter around and kind of... smushes his face into his hair for a second. Whew! Shining in the sun, goddamn!! Give him a minute.]

[Emil appreciates clothes, Lalli appreciates cool rocks—their interests are clearly on opposite ends of the spectrum, but that's fine as long as Emil, like, kind of understands where Lalli is coming from? Mostly understands where Lalli is coming from. Like, Lalli is fairly certain that Emil is still somewhat lost, even after hearing everything laid out SO clearly, but... things feel better now than they did.. He can bask in these softer, warmer feelings as he falls right back—

—or, um, as he's pulled right back? Aha. The tightened grip and everything that comes with it isn't bad; there's just, you know, so much Emil so very close, and he's surprised and pleased and... surprised that he's pleased, even though they've been cuddling for the past however long it's been. Emil is, well... nice to be close to. Safe, which is why Lalli leans into this slightly awkward hug without thinking too much of it.

But the Gay Rock is still in his possession, and so he lifts his head, locating Emil's free hand before pressing the rock right into it. He doesn't need it? He can look at Emil's blue eyes and shiny hair any time he likes, which is... often.]

It's very nice, [he says, just to drive that point home. Love him!] You keep it.

[Because he is once again... slumping against Emil? Or, well—settling against him once again, the quietest of sighs escaping him as he tries to make himself comfortable. He likes this! He does! But he's still so tired, and sitting up on his own is so much effort...]

[Love him, thanks for the rock, it will live on the bedside table forever as soon as he feels like moving far enough to put it there. He's still occupied with his messy affection, but he does take a moment to give the rock an appreciative heft, like, this will give him all of the rock knowledge... then he puts it off to the side, as far as he can reach without tipping them both over. He doesn't want to lean on a rock because he forgot about it.]

Thank you, I will. Maybe I'll get it a box.

[A special box to keep his Lalli Stuff in, like: a rock, a teddy bear when he's not using it to sleep... A work in progress. But that dopey thing he might actually do aside, he waits until Lalli has somewhat settled before brushing his hair back with his free hand. He is wide awake and ready to multitask, which here means sitting up on his own and touching Lalli's hair at the same time.]

Don't tell me you're "not tired" again.

[Lalli can be stubborn, but even he has his limits. The gift has been given, the gift has been appreciated, and now Emil is once again fussing with his hair; it's no wonder that warm, languid feeling from earlier is creeping back, stronger than ever, and Lalli wonders if it would be a bad thing to... fall asleep just like this. Not for long! Definitely not for long, but a short nap sounds...

Well! He's considering it, and that's why he only hums instead of telling Emil that he's oh-so welcome, or that he's absolutely not tired at all. He had his one very small flare up; he most certainly is too tired for another, so—]

Hm. Not very.

[Just a call back to the, like, first real thing Emil said to him when he entered the room! And maybe there's another slight trace of amusement there—the quietest hint imaginable—before he tilts his head closer to Emil's shoulder and allows his eyes to drift closed.]

Keep doing that?

[The... hair thing. It's just barely a question, honestly, but seeing as how Emil asked that one time...]

[Gosh, what a brat. Is this brat going to fall asleep right on him like this? It seems like it. Is he at all bothered by that possibility? Hmm, no, not even a little. It was pretty excellent to fall asleep with Lalli smoothing his hair back, that other time - of course he's eager to return the favor.]

Tired enough. Sleep.

[Is he smug? Only a little. Sitting here while Lalli sleeps on him is something he very much wants to do, so! He falls silent then, running his fingers through Lalli's hair in a slow, relaxing rhythm. Sleep, tired boy... he'll be right here later, honest, there's nowhere else he'd rather be.]

[This brat is indeed going to fall asleep right here, right now—except, um, not really. Oh, he could! He most certainly could, but even with his eyes closed, a part of him fights to stay away for just a little while longer. This is another one of those New Things that seem to be happening... so very often these days, and he wants to enjoy this particular New Thing for at least another minute or two. If he focuses—really focuses—he can hone in on, like, one thing at a time and... well, maybe not appreciate it, but consider it? Like the way he can feel Emil breathing, for one... the warmth of Emil's arm, for another...

And the way Emil's fingers are carefully threading through his hair, of course. ...Hmm. Down, then back up, then down, then back up—there's a rhythm there, one that threatens to lull him right to sleep, but he cracks his eyes open just a hair instead. He's glad... to be back! He's glad... that Emil is happy that he's back! Above all else, though, he's glad that Emil is here, with him, at this particular point in time, which is why he turns his head to the side right as that hand drops to its lowest point. What is he doing? He doesn't know; it's not like he's thinking about anything other than his own good feelings as he leans in and presses his lips against that palm. A quick, dry kiss: nothing too special, especially when one doesn't give it any thought whatsoever.

Anyway, Emil can enjoy that bit of unexpected weirdness, because Lalli... tucks his head back against that shoulder, closes his eyes, and acts like nothing out of the ordinary happened. Now he's perfectly content; now he can slip right off to sleep. Good night...]

[Emil is expecting only part of this sleepy nonsense, and kissing his hand is not the part at all. He doesn't know what to do with himself for a moment before he goes back to stroking Lalli's hair, resolving to not nudge him awake and demand an explanation. Perhaps he imagined that... perhaps the very intentional act of moving to kiss his hand was an accident...

Well, regardless: it was... nice! Of course Lalli kissing his hand is nice, he's not oblivious to his own many, many feelings— but like all Lalli Things, it was unexpected and cryptic. Thankfully Emil is content to stay here like this, enjoying the feeling of being so very close to one another and, you know, the simple intimacy of letting a boy nap on his shoulder. Very good. Will he think about kissing Lalli about ten times more than usual? Well, duh, that's a given.

So enjoy that nap, and enjoy the residual Warm Comfort that Emil is apparently always mentally providing these days when Lalli is around, and he will be... right here, later, thinking about kisses and rocks and the neverending curse of waiting tables for minimum wage. The usual.]

i make another inbox post

on mobile and everything.....

hell is real 🐝🔫

i can't believe you would beegun me like this. anyway emil is too gay to function

he's going to die by the end of this thread... rip

he sure will

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