#AND I WOULDN'T HAVE TO PAY ANY MORE THAN I DID OR GET FINED

[sleepy--anon]

It's My Job

Reblog first, like later please, reblogs do more

Here's who I write for

In-ho is 35 and Jun-ho is 19 here

Most people would assume that siblings with a 16 year age gap wouldn't be that close but Jun-ho practically glued himself to his big brother and In-ho absolutely adored Jun-ho from birth. They obviously still had their fair share of sibling quarles but ultimately, the two were inseparable for the most part.

"You work too much!" Jun-ho whined loudly, half hanging off his brother's bed, In-ho rolled his eyes as he continued his paperwork. Jun-ho showed up randomly, wanting to see his brother.

"Considering you're only on your second year of academy I'd assume you'd appreciate the calm atmosphere of us just doing our own thing in peace Namdongsaeng." Jun-ho's eyes narrowed at how his brother didn't look at him while he spoke.

"I came to see my Hyung because I missed him, is it a crime to be upset that he's ignoring me?" Jun-ho turned to sit on his legs and give In-ho an exaggerated pout and the biggest puppy eyes he could muster. He felt a prideful flutter in his chest when In-ho looked at him and visibly melted.

"Nobody said it was, and I am not ignoring you, you just have a completely different view of attention than I do." In-ho got up from his desk, walking over to his little brother, gently cupping his face, smiling softly at Jun-ho's bright smile.

"Well I felt ignored Hyung, you should've known how I feel about your attention." In-ho's eye twitched at his tone, his hands slipping to Jun-ho's shoulders.

"You want attention Namdongsaeng? Fine, I'll give you some damn attention." He quickly shoved his bother back, jumping up to straddle his hips, pressing his wrists into the mattress as he watched Jun-ho process what had just happened.

"Are you comfortable Hyeongje~? Cause you're gonna be there for a while~" Just then did Jun-ho finally realize what was happening. In-ho's change in tone flipped a switch in Jun-ho's brain.

"Noooo come on! That's not what I meant when I said I wanted your attention and you know it!" He whimpered, trying to worm his way out of his scarily effective hold. When Jun-ho was 6 his brother had graduated from the same police academy he was currently in, which meant In-ho knew all the little tricks he didn't and boy did he use that to his advantage.

"Its no use Little One~ You might as well accept your fate~ You practically asked for this anyway~" Jun-ho grunted as he tried to overpower his brother, huffing at his smug face when he barely budged.

"I did not! Can't we just go get food? Or watch a movie? Both of those work as alternatives" Jun-ho felt the pressure of In-ho's knees on his wrists, pulling a long whine of protest from his throat.

"What whiny~? You wanted my attention right~? You now have my undivided attention~" In-ho smirked mischievously as he crawled his fingers from his hips up to his ribs. Chuckling at Jun-ho's strained grunts as he tried to fight the sensations.

"Oh come on Jun~ This isn't a battle, you can let loose~ or do you need a little help~?" In-ho's fingers pressing into a few of his higher ribs, smiling at the bright, childish laughter the began flowing from his brother.

"Nohohohoho! I dohohon't neheheed any hehehehelp! StohohoOHOP!" In-ho hummed as if considering his request.

"I don't know if I believe you~ You've been pouting quite a lot today~"

"I'm FIHIHIHINE! STOHOHOP dohohoing THAHAHAT!" Jun-ho's laughter pitching up and down based on In-ho's occasional flicks up into his underarms.

"Why~? Would you prefer I did this instead~?" In-ho's hands jumped to his brother's stomach pinching and squeezing all over, paying extra attention to the lower portion towards his hips.

"FUHUHUCK OHOHOHOFF!"

"Ooooo~ Jun-ho's using his big boy language now~" He could feel his bed shake from the drumming of Jun-ho's feet.

"LEHEHET MEHEHE GOHOHOHOHO! HYUHUHUNG PLEHEHEHEASE!"

"Oh alright~" He skittered his fingers quickly across his little brother's neck before climbing off him.

"You're way too ticklish to be pulling that kind of shit Jun, you always have been" He teased, pinching his cheek and fixing the pillow under his head.

"Just say you like bullying me In-ho, we know that's the real reason you just nearly killed me"

"Don't be so dramatic Namdongsaeng, you're just a little out of breath, think of it like endurance training. You're welcome."

[carlyraejepsans]

....i took the wrong fucking train

[nerdyfangirlingbooks]

Every now and then I remember the times I would mention to my flatmate that I was thinking of buying myself something reasonably expensive (that I had been eyeing up for months and had budgeted for) and she'd tell me that I shouldn't spend that much money on something I didn't need and it would be stupid etc etc while she regularly impulse bought things that cost at least as much and she would use once (while complaining that she was under a lot of financial stress and couldn't afford <$3/week for 2 months for a rental washing machine when ours broke). She is... perhaps not my first call for financial advice

[jinwoosbabyboo]

"Love and Deep Pockets"

Our LADS Men are financially stable we know this however.....what kind of provider are they? Walk with me....

Zayne

Type: Head of Household

I see Zayne as the traditional head of the household type of man. However he respects you and understands that if you want to work you're free to do so. Just know that all the money you make is yours alone.

MC: Let me pay for something! Zayne: Just let me take care of you

If you really insist on paying he will let you if that's what will make you happy/feel better. Otherwise he's covering all the bills, dates, trips, etc. the only thing that gets split 50/50 are household duties and even then you have to strong arm your way into the kitchen or into doing any of the cleaning.

Zayne is incredibly self sufficient; he's clean and orderly. He is used to keeping his house clean and his clothes washed, pressed, and folded. He's almost unreal with how perfect he is.

The only time you really spend your own money is when it's a surprise for him or when you're alone. He enjoys taking care of you because he absolutely adores you. You're a dream come true and he'll do anything to keep you happy.

Rafayel

Type: Head of Household, False Sense of Independence Provider

If you want to be spoiled he's perfectly fine with that. He's rich and you're his babygirl as long as he can see that smile and be around you he's a happy camper.

Now if you are hell bent on splitting 50/50 Rafayel will let you think you two are splitting bills and things 50/50 meanwhile all the money you send him for half of anything he's putting it into an account that's just collecting interest. He will let you pay for anything and everything you want but best believe he's reimbursing you behind your back.

He'd laugh when you figure it out and try to cuss him out.

MC: I gave you that money to help with the bills Rafayel: and it did help .... it helped me giggle while you thought I'd actually let you pay for anything.

Xavier

Type: Head of Household, No Argument

Xavier is also traditional in a way I mean he's a prince. He is definitely providing everything with no argument. The day you decided to move in with him your bill paying days were over. He let you have your independence when you lived alone, but now you're in his care.

MC: I could've paid for it Xavier: I know but now you don't have to

You can go shopping, buy groceries, buy lunch .... if you're by yourself. If he's with you expect him to already be sliding his card into your hand or directly into the card reader before you can even pull yours out. You have to damn near fist fight this man to pay for anything.

Sylus

Type: Sugar Daddy, Head of Household, Spoiled Brat

SYYLLUUUSSSS. I need him in ways that are unhealthy. This man is spoiling the absolute FUCK out of you. He gave you his black card like it was nothing and asking to spend his money is a 'trivial matter'

You had a bad day? Deposit. You had a good day? Deposit. He misses you? Deposit. Just because? Deposit.

Don't even think about trying to pay for something with your own money. He's the type to hide your cards and slip his into your wallet just so you have no choice, but to spend his money.

MC: I have my own money you know Sylus: Im more than aware kitten I just dont care

Whats his is yours and what's yours is yours. That’s his mentality all he wants to do is make sure you want for nothing and you have the most comfortable life with him.

Don't worry if you still want to work he wouldn't stop you, but those weekly or biweekly checks are just going to be collecting interest because it won't be touched.

[themultifanshipper]

Who knew practicing your makeup skills on Lando and Oscar would lead to this.

Vaguely based on the time I did my ex's makeup and we got unbearably horny because of it

Warnings: filth, absolute filth, smut, threesome, spit, PinV sex, PinA sex, double penetration, the inherent eroticism of doing someone's makeup, the inherent eroticism of landoscar in the same room, Landoscar being kinky little fuckers. I'd say pwp but tbh the plot is like 3 sentences.

You'd spent two years being a makeup artist on the formula 1 media team. Which was great, it payed well, you'd made some great friends, you traveled all over the place. It was a lot of people's dream job, really.

But you had to admit you were getting bored of covering zits and five o’clock shadows all the time (and hickeys but shhhhhh) and you were hoping for a bit of a change of routine.

That change came in the form of an offer to become the official f1 Academy makeup artist.

Sure it wasn't exactly Cirque du Soleil but at least you'd get to do a bit more than just pandering to male egos.

So before the end of the season, you thought you'd get a bit of practice in by doing some of your friends makeup.

The problem was the only friends you had access to while traveling were formula one drivers, or in other words, men.

So you roped your two best friends in the paddock Lando and Oscar into letting you do their makeup one afternoon, in the comfort of their motorhome bathroom, where the lighting was best, and the presence of a sink was convenient.

You grabbed a chair from the other room, which happened to be quite large, so it took up most of the space in the bathroom.

You did Oscar's eyes first, that way you could alternate between the two so they wouldn't have to stay still for too long.

You instructed Oscar to close his eyes, then you stepped closer, shaking the tube to get the liquid flowing.

Having Oscar under you, so pliant and at your mercy with his eyes closed sent a shiver up your spine and you hesitated for a second, you mind conjuring up other scenarios where you two could be in this position. Then you quickly came to your senses and eagerly applied the black liquid in a sharp wing.

The angle was a bit weird but you got through it, and when he opened his eyes to look at you, your breath caught in your throat. He was beautiful. Not in a particularly feminine way but it really fucking suited him, it made his deep brown eyes stand out. You were almost jealous.

Then it was Lando's turn. They swapped places, Lando settling on the chair while Oscar sat on the floor.

You uncapped the lid and went to start Lando's liner, but the angle was even worse due to their slight height difference.

You huffed. “Hang on I need to get closer, this is killing my wrist.” You thought for a second. “Can I sit on your lap? I promise it'll be quick”

Lando’s eyes widened a fraction but he nodded and you straddled his thighs, your legs on either side of his.

Plot twist, it was not quick. He couldn't keep still long enough and you kept having to stop to let him scratch his nose, beard, neck, etc…

You got a bit frustrated at his fidgeting so you grabbed his jaw, perhaps a bit harder than intended, and held him in place.

“Stop moving!” you ordered, and he became weirdly stock still suddenly.

In your concentration you didn't notice how close your face had gotten to his, and how his pupils dilated more and more, the closer you got.

You shifted on his lap as you tried to get the right angle to do the last part, but you must have hurt him because he gasped and scrunched his eyebrows together as his hands flew to your hips to stop you from moving.

“Shit, you ok? Did I hurt you?”

“Nope, no it's fine just…” he exhaled shakily “just don't move around too much” he gulped as he avoided eye contact. His breathing had picked up a bit and you didn't want to make him any more uncomfortable so you hurried the rest. But you had to admit, sitting on Lando's lap with his hands squeezing your hips was making you hot, and slightly dizzy.

Oscar was looking curiously at the interaction from the floor, eyes darting from your faces only a few inches apart, to where Lando’s leg was starting to twitch, to his hands on the meat of your hips, to the way your fingers were digging into his jaw to keep him still.

You managed to finish quickly, and as you got off him you noticed the mirror was starting to steam up a little bit. What you didn't see was the way Lando adjusted his pants before getting up to let Oscar have his turn.

“Holy shit, mate. It looks really good on you” Oscar was almost in awe as he got up, now slightly higher than eye level with Lando.

The two of them sort of stood there looking at each other’s eyes with an intensity you'd never seen in them before, then seemingly remembered where they were before clearing their throats and shuffling around awkwardly to switch places.

"You wanna..."

"Yeah, thanks"

You took the lipstick out of your bag, applying a bit to a brush before grabbing Oscar's jaw the same way you had Lando’s, and tilting his face upwards. His hand naturally came to rest on your waist as you sat down on him, you didn't mind. He swallowed and the movement of his adam's apple caught your eye.

“You okay?” you whispered, looking into his eyes from above.

“Yeah” he replied, the deafening silence that followed almost overwhelmed you so you quickly started swiping the brush over his bottom lip.

You took the liberty of using your thumb to wipe some excess off, and it grazed Oscar's tongue.

He gasped and you swore, about to apologise, but when you looked at his eyes you were shocked to find them closed, as Oscar opened his mouth just a fraction more, inviting.

When you didn't say anything or move for several seconds, he looked up at you through lidded eyes and you understood. He was turned on.

You didn't dare move. You glanced at his lips then back up to his eyes and he did the same.

“Oscar…” You breathed out, barely even loud enough to be considered a whisper.

In guise of a response, he pressed your hips down and rolled his upwards, and the groan he let out was almost akin to whimper. He was so hard you could feel him through all the layers.

You chanced a glance down to where Lando was sitting and the look that met yours was overwhelming. He looked like a siren, painted eyes also lidded as he looked at you and Oscar, mouth hanging half open as his hand palmed his obvious erection through his joggers.

“You two are so fucking hot” he whispered, and you looked back at the man you were currently grinding on. Oscar looked so fucked out you might have blacked out for a second, dropping the makeup brush on the counter and grabbing Oscar by the hair to pull his head back ever further, exposing his neck. You trailed kisses along his jaw before settling below his ear to bite at it lightly.

“You want to fuck me, Osc? Give this little freak a show, huh?” You ground your hips down harder and he groaned out a curse at the ceiling before sliding a hand around your neck to close the gap between you.

His lips were slippery thanks to the half-applied lipstick, but he made up for it by sucking your bottom lip into his mouth and your hips stuttered against his as you felt Lando's hands start to work at your clothes…

You weren't sure when the plan changed, but you found yourself riding Lando instead of Oscar on the chair, while Oscar guided your hips at a leisurely pace as he sloppily made out with Lando over your shoulder.

You haven't truly lived until you've witnessed that.

Suddenly Oscar had a thought and slowed your hips down to a slow grind. You were sweaty and your legs were aching so you were thankful for the break.

“Can you take us both?” Oscar asked.

You and Lando froze. You frowned at each other.

“What?”

“Do you think” he started, trailing sloppy kisses down your back, hands going lower and lower. “you can take us both?”

“As in…?” you trailed off as he got to the dip in your lower back.

“As in both of us…” his hands came down to spread your ass as he kissed the end of your tail bone. “… at the same time.” His thumb stroked over your rim and you shuddered in Lando's embrace.

“I've never done that before” but you could feel yourself getting wetter at the prospect.

“Do you want to try it?” Oscar asked, still level with where you and Lando were joined.

You didn't take much convincing, and as soon as he had your consent, Oscar surged forward and licked a stripe from where you were split open by Lando, up to where his last kiss had landed.

You moaned as he spread you open and and spat straight onto your puckered hole, watching his spit slide down your skin to Lando's cock inside you. Lando swore as you tightened around him and pulled out so that he wouldn't come too soon. You took the opportunity to arch your back, presenting yourself to Oscar as Lando stroked your hair and kissed you sweetly.

Oscar wasted no time, he dived in with expert precision, stretching you out with his tongue, then a finger, then two, dipping them in your cunt first to get them nice and wet.

Soon enough you were panting into Lando's chest and dripping over his thighs, overwhelmed by the new sensations taking over your body. When Oscar got to four fingers he pulled out and gave your ass a quick spank before dipping his cock into your wet folds once.

When his tip breached your rim, he stopped to let you adjust for a second, before continuing to slide into you slowly.

The drag of his cock inside you was unlike anything you'd ever felt before, and you felt like you were going to come any second, just from that.

Lando chose that moment to slide back into you, slightly less on the edge than before, but as soon as he was fully inside and nudged your g-spot you came with a shout as your body clamped down on the two cocks inside of you. The feeling so intense you swore you could see colours burst beneath your eyelids as the waves crashed over you and wetness dripped between the three of you.

Oscar groaned as he realised you were squirting, probably also for the first time.

Lando couldn't help himself, his hips moved of their own accord as he chased his high, and the stream just kept flowing as Oscar followed his lead, both men incredibly close to orgasm themselves.

The feeling of the two of them filling you up with their cum was peculiar but indescribably erotic as you came down from your high with them.

Turns out the worst part of aftercare with Lando and Oscar, was having to instruct them on how to remove their (now slightly smudged) makeup.

Your legs were too unstable to move so you barked orders at them in the bathroom until they were done. Then they came to bed and lay on either side of you, hands wandering over each others bodies as the three of you drifted into bliss

Looks like your days of covering hickeys weren't quite finished yet.

[libraryofgage]

Good Vibrations Part One

Hello, it's me, back at it again with another Steddie AU.

Anyway, if I were tagging this AU, these would be the most important ones: Deaf Steve Harrington; Tooth-rotting Fluff; Getting Together

If you wanna be tagged in future parts, just let me know!

As always, if you see any typos, no you didn't ;)

----

Steve has blown through three pairs of hearing aids in the past year. The first pair had lasted a few years and needed replacement because of normal wear and tear. The second pair was sacrificed during that fight with Jonathan. He hadn't been wearing them, but they'd been in Steve's pocket, and he'd landed at just the right angle to feel them shatter. The third pair was taken by the Russians because, despite Robin's shouting and cursing at them for being dumbasses (and this was before she actually knew what they were for), they accused him of recording their kidnapping and torture.

Honestly, he wouldn't recommend fighting Russians and Billy and Mind Flayers and driving while nearly totally deaf.

The funniest part of it all, though, is that Steve doesn't even use hearing aids regularly. He normally only wears them at home. The pair lost to Jonathan were present because, well, that whole day had been a lot for Steve, and he needed the comfort of knowing he could stop reading lips the moment it became too exhausting for him. The pair lost to the Russians was because he'd been getting ready to tell Robin about being deaf. She'd already clocked the weird things he does (well, weird to her, normal to Steve), and he figured letting her in on the big secret would bring them a little closer.

Of course, that didn't go the way he expected. Robin thought he was confessing love and decided to beat him to the punch. That's how he learned Robin is a lesbian, and Steve couldn't let her be the only one admitting to something like that, so he told her about being bi and his long-standing, hopeless crush. And being deaf. But the bi with a crush thing seemed more important in the moment. She took it in stride, it brought them closer, and then Robin asked if Steve could teach her sign language.

Which meant that Steve had to learn sign language because he never had. Between not wanting to feel even more different than he already did and trying to convince his parents that, really, everything was fine and he didn't need to go to a special school for deaf and hard-of-hearing kids, he'd never learned. Learning it had somehow felt like an admission of weakness, and that was the last thing he wanted. But he learned for Robin, and they stumbled through sign language together, creating new signs only they knew.

But that's all in the past now, and Steve is working his ass off at Family Video to afford a new pair because he refuses to ask his parents for money. If he asks them, they'll come back, and that's the last thing he wants. They don't need to have all their worries confirmed that Steve is helpless, and he doesn't want them anywhere near Hawkins "Hellscape" Indiana.

So. Working his ass off, taking extra shifts, and babysitting the kids as much as he can to make up for the whole Friends and Family Discount he gives their parents. He's exhausted, but he gets to recharge somewhat during his lunch break.

About a ten-minute walk from the Family Video is a record store, which Steve has started visiting daily to just breathe. The lone worker in the store is usually too busy listening to her own music to pay Steve any attention, letting him wander and try to determine which records will best serve him.

Steve drifts over to the rock and heavy metal section, hoping to find a new album but unsurprised when he doesn't. He browses through them anyway, moving past Metallica and Black Sabbath and Iron Maiden. He already has all of these albums on his shelf at home. He has the cassette tapes for them, too.

But he really wants something new. He likes the novelty of experiencing unfamiliar vibrations through the speaker, letting them thrum through his fingertips and into his bones. It's fun and relaxing, and after all the bullshit he's been through lately, he probably deserves something relaxing.

After glancing over a few more familiar albums, Steve sighs and glances at the counter by the door. The lone worker is standing there, headphones over her ears, and idly flipping through a magazine. She's chewing gum, and Steve braces himself for the sheer hell of trying to read her lips without making it obvious he's reading her lips while she's got something in her mouth to disrupt the normal shape of words and sounds.

But he has to try. Steve takes one more deep breath before walking over, shoving his hands into his pockets when he comes to a stop at the counter. The girl raises a hand, motioning for him to wait, so he stays quiet as she finishes reading her page. She flips to the next one before looking up, not making any move to pull her headphones off.

"Hi. Do you have any new rock or metal albums coming in soon," Steve asks, feeling the vibrations of speech in his throat and hoping his words aren't too loud.

They don't seem to be. The girl doesn't flinch or pull back. She just looks him up and down, taking in the polo shirt and the nice khakis and the Family Video vest he forgot to take off before leaving. Finally, her neck and shoulders jerk slightly, and Steve knows she's huffed in annoyance. "No," she says, the word clear enough in the shape of her lips for Steve to know it immediately.

He frowns slightly, his fingernails digging into his palms. Steve wouldn't mind just leaving now, but something keeps him there. He just...he really wants new music. He needs something new. "Are there gonna be any shows nearby?" he asks.

The girl rolls her eyes and says something, her mouth distorted by gum-chewing. Steve can barely make out the words "you" and "check" from her response. Thankfully, it's accompanied by a vague gesture at something behind him. Steve looks over his shoulder to see a bulletin board with flyers plastered across it.

"Right. Thanks," he says, nodding to her before walking over. The flyers are all different colors with various fonts that scream for Steve's attention. Some of them are for bands, some are advertisements of garage sales or instruments in need of a new home, and others are just business flyers from stores nearby.

He's seen the bulletin board before, but he's never actually paid attention to it. Steve has always been laser-focused on browsing the records. But now, Steve carefully reviews each flyer advertising shows. Some are for comedy shows, which he immediately dismisses. One seems promising, but then he sees how far it is, and Steve definitely can't do an overnight trip like that.

Finally, Steve sees a flyer advertising a show at the Hideout later that week. It's close enough that he won't be out overnight. The place is kind of seedy, but Steve figures he can find some corner near the stage to hide. Or he can bring Robin and let her help him navigate any potential social situations. He tugs the flyer off the board, gaze lingering on the "Corroded Coffin" emblazoned across the top.

He knows the band. Of course, he knows the band. He's extremely familiar with their singer. From a distance. Honestly, Eddie Munson probably doesn't have the best impression of him, but Steve's heart never really cared about that. Because Eddie is like everything Steve wants to be: he's loud and unafraid of being so, he doesn't care about his image and how others perceive him, and he looks like his laugh sounds beautiful. Steve wouldn't know if he's actually right about that last point, but Eddie throws his head back when he laughs, eyes crinkled and hand over his stomach like his muscles ache.

His mouth suddenly feels dry, but he's also filled with unprecedented courage. Steve has graduated (barely), and that means a significantly lower chance of running into Eddie during the day if watching the show somehow goes wrong.

Steve folds the flyer into quarters and stuffs it into his back pocket. He'll be overly aware of it being there until Robin starts her shift and he can show it to her, but that's okay. He throws a quick thanks over his shoulder as he leaves the shop, glancing up at the bell he can't hear that signals the door's opening. He vaguely remembers what bells are supposed to sound like (he'd heard a few before losing the ability to hear them), but he doesn't let himself dwell on it.

Instead, he focuses on the trip back to Family Video, keeping an eye on the road to watch for any cars he wouldn't notice otherwise.

----

When the final bell rings, Eddie Munson can't get out of class fast enough. He'd been packed for the last five minutes, and he slid out of his seat the moment that first peal rang out. He has a gig to prepare for, and every second counts. At least, each second counts until he notices something (or someone) that could prove entertaining for a while.

He spots Dustin alone near one of the exits, and Eddie decides to relieve the kid of his isolation. He waits until he's behind Dustin to shout, "Henderson!" and throw his arm over the kid's shoulders, ignoring the way he jumps like he'd been expecting an attack.

"Holy shit!" Dustin shrieks, jerking back to look up at Eddie. "Don't do that, man, you're gonna give me a heart attack."

Eddie snorts, waving away Dustin's concern as he continues toward the exit. The general flow of students trying to get out helps him along, and Dustin doesn't seem to realize they're actually moving until they've gotten into direct sunlight. "You're fine," Eddie says, "Anyway, whatcha doing all alone, Henderson? Lose your way?"

"No, I have...stuff to do today," Dustin says, shrugging as he blinks to acclimate to the sunlight.

Oh, yeah, way too cryptic for Eddie to not dig for more. "Stuff? What kinda stuff? Got a hot date? Going shopping with your mom?" he asks, and then he gasps dramatically and moves to stand in Dustin's way. He puts both hands on his shoulders and very seriously says, "Be honest, Henderson, you're seeing another DM, aren't you?"

Dustin stares at him for a few seconds before rolling his eyes and shrugging his hands off. "Who else in this town DMs?" he asks, "Other than Will, I guess, but he's still working on a campaign."

"Fair," Eddie concedes, "so, whatcha really doing?"

After a few seconds of getting nudged by the students around them, Dustin sighs and says, "I have chores, okay? But that doesn't sound cool to say, does it?"

Fair. Eddie nods in agreement and moves out of Dustin's way, continuing to follow him. "So, what, your mom picking you up today?" he asks.

"No, Steve."

"Oh, the famous Steve."

Dustin nods, looking over the parking lot before pointing to one end. "Yeah, he's awesome," Dustin says as Eddie follows the direction of his finger.

And standing there, leaning against the hood of his car and looking to the side where a group of trees is swaying in the breeze, is Steve Harrington. Steve "The Hair" Harrington. King Steve. The worst thing, Eddie thinks, is that Steve looks good. His hair is still perfect, of course, and his stupid little striped shirt is pulling against his biceps and riding up just enough for Eddie to see a tiny sliver of tanned skin above his jeans. He looks a little tense, but Eddie chalks that up to him being back on the campus after already graduating.

"Harrington? You've been talking about Steve Harrington this whole time?" Eddie asks, his voice a little strained, "How the fuck do you know Steve Harrington?"

"He's my babysitter," Dustin says, his voice implying that much should have been obvious, but Eddie wants to grab his shoulders and shake until his head rolls off.

Steve Harrington doesn't babysit. He doesn't know nerds that talk about D&D. He doesn't drive nerds around. At least, he never did in high school. Granted, Eddie never actually talked to Steve, but everybody knew that Steve Harrington was too cool for, well, anything that wasn't the typical jock and popular guy shit.

As he's thinking about the last time he saw Steve Harrington (in the halls, while the guy had bruises and looked worse for wear), they get within shouting distance. And Eddie has zero impulse control when Wayne isn't around, so he doesn't think before shouting, "Hey, Harrington!"

Next to him, Dustin whips his head to glare at Eddie. And Steve Harrington doesn't fucking react. He just keeps staring at that group of trees like it's the most fascinating thing in the world. "Dude," Dustin says, grabbing Eddie's arm and yanking harshly, "don't shout like that."

Eddie frowns, anger beginning to simmer in his stomach at the complete lack of acknowledgment. "Why are you upset with me?" he asks, gesturing at Steve as he continues, "I'm not the one being a douchebag here."

Dustin opens his mouth, about to say something, only to snap it shut once more. He frowns like he's just realized he can't say something, and huffs with frustration. "Just...just don't do that," he finally says, keeping a hand on Eddie's arm and dragging him across the parking lot. And, yeah, something is definitely weird here.

Instead of just walking up to Steve, they make a large arch until they're within Steve's line of sight.

Eddie watches as Steve notices them, seeing Dustin first and pushing off the car. He relaxes for a split second until he sees Eddie and his shoulders tense again.

Great.

Once they're close enough for Eddie to count the moles above the collar of Steve's shirt, Dustin grins and says, "Hey, Steve." But it's odd, because Eddie has never heard Dustin talk this slow or this carefully, like he's doing his best to enunciate his words.

Steve flashes a grin and ruffles Dustin's hair. "Hey, twerp, you're late," he says. He then glances at Eddie, his grin becoming a little smaller, and says, "Hey, Munson."

Wait. Steve Harrington knows Eddie's name? And he called him by it? He said Munson, not Freak. Eddie stares at Steve for a few seconds before nodding. "Harrington," he says, "how the fuck did you become a babysitter?"

Is he just imagining things, or is Steve looking at his mouth? Like, really intensely. He's definitely not, because Steve looks up after a few seconds with a raised eyebrow. "I needed some extra cash. Also, don't swear around Dustin. I'm the one who gets in trouble when he curses in front of his mom."

Something about the words makes Eddie grin. Never in a million years would he have guessed that he'd be talking to Steve Harrington. And he would have laughed you into Mordor itself if you suggested their conversation would be about Dustin Henderson swearing in front of his mother. "What's his mom do when he swears?" he asks.

Because he can feel the conversation veering into something potentially embarrassing for him, Dustin lets go of Eddie and starts pushing Steve toward the driver's side of his car. "Okay, we gotta go. So many chores, so little time," he says, his voice back to that normal speed and enunciation.

Steve frowns slightly, looking down at Dustin and tilting his head just slightly. "What?" he asks. Instead of actually answering, Dustin just makes some vague gesture with his hand and looks at the car. "Oh, right. Go ahead and get in the car. And, uh, see you later, Munson."

"Is that a promise?" Eddie asks before he can think better of it.

Steve pauses, looking at Eddie's mouth with a slight scrunch to his nose. He seems to be considering something as Dustin scrambles into the passenger seat, watching them with narrowed eyes. Honestly, Eddie is surprised he's not blasting the horn to hurry Steve up. Finally, Steve comes to a decision and meets Eddie's eyes again. "Your band has a show tonight, right? At the Hideout? I was planning to go. So, yeah, I'll see you then, I guess."

And with that, like he hasn't just fucking rocked Eddie's world, Steve Harrington gets into his car. He makes sure Dustin is buckled before waving at Eddie and pulling out of the parking spot.

Eddie finds himself waving back, staring dumbly at the car as it pulls onto the street. It only hits him a few seconds later that Steve Harrington is coming to his show. At the Hideout. His metal show. A Corroded Coffin gig at the Hideout.

Holy. Shit.

[short-honey-badger]

Jealousy won't get you anywhere

SPOILER ALERT for latest chapter of One Piece

Pairings! Shanks x Female Reader, One-Sided! Figarland Shamrock x Female Reader

Warnings! Drinking and Shanks gets jealous

Masterlist for Shamrock-> HERE

Shanks is jealous, and he does not like the feeling one bit. You are supposed to be his woman, his girlfriend. But here you were, paying his snobby, uptight twin all your attention. Shanks had thought it would be a good idea for the two of you to finally meet, but with how the night keeps processing, he regrets ever having the idea in the first place. Sure, you hadn't let go of his hand and was even leaning into his space, but you haven't spoken to him since Shamrock introduced himself.

And he could see that smug, better-than-thou expression on the other redhead's face every time he looked over your head, and it just pissed Shanks off even more. Usually, he wouldn't be above whining to get your attention, but he doesn't want to show the other man any kind of weakness, especially with it being his older brother.

Shanks doesn't even know what the two of you are talking about, but it's obviously something he isn't clued in on because he doesn't understand the quick back and forth going on between the two of you. He can't help but feel like you like Shamrock better right now, and that hurts more than feeling jealous.

He purses his lips and slams back the shot of whiskey that sits in front of him, gesturing with a nod for the bartender to fill it back up when they notice. Fine. If you wanted to pay so much attention to Shamrock, then he would drink and ignore both of you.

By his fourth shot, Shanks is silently lamenting to himself, convinced that you just don't love him anymore. That he just isn't as good as his well-kept, clean, non-alcoholic older twin. Of course, you would prefer Shamrock over him, with his long, silky hair and fancy clothes. Shanks was nothing but a beach bum, someone not worth your attention.

By his seventh shot, Shanks has slumped forward, arm untucked from around your waist as he rests his head in his palm, face angled away from you and his brother. He feels cold without you pressed up against him, but it's like you hadn't even noticed when he withdrew, still too occupied with talking about books of all things with Shamrock. It was just another nail in the coffin that Shanks had built for himself.

Of course, you would have more things in common with his older brother than with him. He didn't read or even write like you enjoyed. He knew that you would spend hours a day sunbathing on the deck of his ship while you leaked through a book, and while Shanks had asked what they were about, the subject either went over his head, or he didn't find them very interesting. Hell, he would usually fall asleep, face tucked into your lap while you told him about your current read. What kind of boyfriend did that make him?

The press of your fingers sliding through his hair brings Shanks out of his stupor, and he raises his face enough to angle it towards you. You are smiling down at him, a gentle look that makes his heart beat wildly in his chest. You were so beautiful, and he didn't deserve any of you.

“I'm sorry I'm not as well-educated as he is,” Shanks slurs without thinking, and watches your eyes widen, brow furrowing at his words, but he plows on ahead, “I would understand if you left me for him.”

Behind you, Shamrock barks a laugh. He had watched the downward spiral this entire time, watching his twin knock back shot after shot the longer he kept your attention away from him. He shrugs when you turn and sends him a sharp glare, not feeling guilt at all over his younger brother's hurt feelings.

“Maybe she should, since you are acting so much like a child right now,” Shamrock sneers and reaches out, one gloved hand falling against your thigh and squeezing.

The sight sends fury through Shanks, his eyes widening as you jerk under the hand on your leg, pulling away with a disapproving frown.

“Don't you dare touch her,” he snarls hotly and slides his arm around your waist, tugging you off your stool and into his side, shielding you from his twin. Any thoughts of you leaving him for Shamrock disappear, and he glares over the top of your head, “She's mine. Not yours.”

His actions just make his brother grin meanly and stand, looming above the two of them with the height his boots give him. You glare at both of them, put off by being treated like some object to be won.

“That's enough,” you snap and shrug out of Shanks’ embrace. He gives you a look of hurt, but you roll your eyes at him, “I'm not leaving you Shanks, but I thought you would know better than to get jealous like this. It's unbecoming of you.”

He feels like a kicked puppy at your words and wilts immediately, lips tugging up into a pout. Shanks knows that you are right, and guilt eats at him for thinking otherwise. He watches you round on his brother, but the other redhead just smirks at you, not affected or shamed by the disappointment you look at him with.

“I'm not even going to bother with you,” you grumble and then snag Shanks by the hand, “It was good to meet you, Shamrock, but I don't think you're very good for my health.”

The god knight just huffs and rolls his eyes, “If you'd prefer someone who doesn't act like a spoiled brat, I'll be a phone call away, my dear.”

Shanks glares at his twin for his comment, but dutifully follows you when you tug him out of the bar. You are silent for a while, all the way until the two of you arrive at the docks before you turn and stare at Shanks. You feel a little bad for snapping at him earlier.

“I can understand not why it took you so long to introduce your brother. He's an acquired taste,” you tell him, and Shanks huffs, lips twisting into a frown.

“He's an asshole.”

His blunt words startle a laugh out of you, but you nod along.

“That he is, love. So you better not think that just cause he looks like you, I would leave you for him. You are the man I love, okay?”

Shanks flushes and nods, chest losing that tight feeling at your assurance, “Okay. I'm sorry, baby. I love you, too.”

You smile and reach for him, drawing the redhead in for a soft kiss that Shanks melts into, “Good. You better for all the shit you put me through.”

@mit-suri @mfreedomstuff

[reshinless]

──── nun' more than ten percent off!!

ᯓ★ ── . summ. money runs the world, and you just ran out. coincidentally, so did your very hot childhood best friend/bf (might change depending on which chara) :3!! (you both becum prnstarz!!)

ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹ director's note. i don't think i can continue to do kinktober dear disciples sigh, i might do this with hsr characters as well :D!! STOP SPAM LIKING PLZ :PRAY:

ᯓᡣ𐭩.ᐟ ⊹ pairings. xiao, alhaitham, kinich, x fem!reader

ᯓ★ ── . warnings. nsfw, fem terms used, vaginal sex(?), ww

when xiao starts to run low on money and feels too damn guilty enough to ask zhongli for money again (he's in debt by $890 already lol) . . when you bring up the idea since you need it for rent . . doesn't sound so bad.

even for your side of things; you definitely didn't mind getting dicked down by him. and if he was going to be real with himself, you were fine as fuck. hearing that 'he was the only one you could do this with'? he could've just pulled out his phone and fuck you right then and there.

but he isn't as bold as you think. simply blushing at the thought and nodding along. man his pants were starting to get a little tight, don't ya think?

you suggested probably observing a few videos just for reference but his mind was all he needed (he just said "let's just wing it.")

people who had seen and watched your content together commented on how easy it was for him to let you cream on his cock. fuck he felt tired, it felt like hours of videos for now, but seeing how your eyes rolled back as your cunt slid all the way down onto the very base of his shaft- he gained all his energy back.

"fffuck- ngh x- xiao!" oh please keep saying his name like that, his face hid in the crook of your neck, in the umpteenth video you both agreed on recording only showed off your pretty body, and his arms holding your hips down. the camera caught a glimpse of the tattoos that ran around and down his shoulders, and arms.

people commented on how those tattoos probably went all over his body, how you'd probably be stuck looking at his eyes (you both wore masks/have your faces blurred or cut out), or how the arms on your hips that pistoned them onto his cock when you get tired would either have a deadly grip or the gentlest.

whatever would pay you your college debt, or get him food on the table. it was working.

alhaitham who wouldn't usually hook up twice- especially when he was low on money himself. he'd never sell himself. oh, but he'd do anything to get a taste of your pretty pussy again.

"uhuh? ffuck, you really want this dick don't you? such a spoiled little princess . . " he watched you bounce on his cock, plop plop plop!!

his arms locked onto the soft plush of your thighs. "ahh- sshit, haah 'm gonna.." you whine, the blissful sounds of your voice only made him harder, big strong arms held you around your waist, helping you straddle him. "don't be tired now, sweetheart." a smirk grows along his cheeks. his voice almost a purr.

'just roommates' they said, but when dire situations come down to desperate solutions.. money runs the world, and you both simply just have to abide by it.

comments on your posts with him have noticed the repetitive collabs. In fact, he was the only man who had ever appeared in your videos. You had always refused any other creators who wanted to collaborate because—well, your roommate was pretty willing.

you both hooked up once at a party. then found out you were roommates. he wouldn't say he was mad each time you brought another guy over though. he was livid.

snarky remarks, and a hefty tongue—he never held back from insulting the guy, or your taste. a scoff releases from his lips. "when will you find a real man?"

and who knows what he meant by a real man, cuz you know what you were on right now was a real cock.

your fans love it when haitham pins you against the wall, hands holding you in place, acting as a cushion between him you and the wall.

the way he pistoned his hips, and veiny hands held your ass close to his so he could thrust inside you faster.

you raised enough money to rid of your debt, and enough to keep alhaitham quiet about it (even w/o the money he would, just took money whenever he had projects due), but he didn't wanna stop the content just yet.

kinich who immediately agreed. your most popular videos were always whenever his face buried itself into your thighs. a perfect view of how you grinded your clit against his nose, and his tongue working as deep as it could inside your entrance.

or when he blindfolds, and fucks you from behind. each time he finished cumming inside your hole again, kinich who gave a ninetieth floor view of your pussy, left almost throbbing, and aching for him to thrust into you again!

he loved to tease when it came to eating you out. "uhuh? that's gooooood, taking me s'well baby.. such a good girl.."

people had commented on how sexy his voice sounded, probably what got you wet in the first place.

[cosmerelists]

Cosmere Villains: Ranked By How Much You Could Trust Them To Babysit Your Child

As requested by anon. :)

You need a babysitter for your kid, and for reasons unbeknownst to me, you can only entrust your child to a Cosmere villain. But fear not: this list will aid you by ranking how much you could trust said villains with your precious child.

[Big Spoilers for villain actions throughout! I'd steer clear of any characters from book series you haven't yet finished. However, there is nothing from Wind & Truth previews]

1. Taravangain [Stormlight]: Your child has...slightly better than even odds of being fine

Taravangian is one of the few villains who actually did order a group of children be put to death--remember when he was highly "intelligent" but the child choir was bugging him so he ordered that they all be killed? Not great credentials for a babysitter! On the other hand, his subordinates did talk him out of child murder, and presumably his subordinates would also be there with your child. So your kid probably wouldn't be executed by royal order!

...But I'd maybe stay away from Taravangian.

2. Miles [Mistborn Era 2]: Not the worst choice

If I remember Miles correctly (and I hope so, because I'm not really checking), he's the sort of villain who would have been one of the protagonists in Mistborn Era 1. I mean, his whole thing is that he wants to do what's right and stand up for the downtrodden through loads of murder, which--good resume for Kelsier's crew, am I right? I think your child would probably be fine--seems pretty safe to be strapped in a baby harness against the chest of an unkillable dude. Let's just hope he's not being fired upon by like seventy constables while babysitting.

...Maybe ask him to stay in your house for the job.

3. Hrathen [Elantris]: Are you willing to convert?

I believe Hrathen would actually take very good care of your child. He's a competent guy and doesn't want to cause any harm for harm's sake. On the other hand, you probably won't be paying him money--rather, I'm guessing he's gonna ask you to convert before he'll agree to watch your child.

So: Pros: You child is safe and healthy. Cons: You're a follower of Jaddeth now.

4. Crow [Tress of the Emerald Sea]: Not worth the price

The moment Crow has your kid, she's 100% blackmailing you into committing murder. That's just her MO. You're better off paying your neighbor kid $20 at that point.

5. The Sorceress [Tress of the Emerald Sea]: Uh...her literal thing is kidnapping

Come on, the Sorceress only knows how to do three things: kidnap people, curse people, and build hugely phallic rocket ships disguised as towers. I'm assuming you don't want your child to be kidnapped, cursed, or taught that all tall buildings should be inherently phallic. I'd steer clear of the Sorceress.

6. Odium, original vessel [Stormlight]: Pretty good choice!

What's promising about original-flavor Odium is that he likes to make agreements and will not only keep that agreement but also adhere to its spirit. All you need to do is get Odium to agree to keep your child safe, and Odium will do that!

Now, will Odium ask for something in return? Naturally. Will it be more than a cool $20? Yeah. And will your child be returned to you spouting some nonsense about how they must abandon all negative passions and become unchained? Well, yeah, but they're five. You can probably distract them with some Boo's Clues and they'll forget all about Odium's brainwashing.

All in all, not a terrible choice!

7. Odium, [spoiler-y] vessel [Stormlight]: Well...are you a really good lawyer?

Odium as represented by his new vessel will also keep to the babysitting contract--exactly as written and no further, loopholes fully exploited. So unless you can write an ironclad babysitting contract, you may return to find that sure, your child is physically safe, but they're now the face of a shady baby food company being used to smuggle exotic car parts across state lines. And nobody wants that.

8. Denth & Tonk Fah [Warbreaker]: Take them at their word

Denth & Tonk Fah will definitely tell you that, as mercenaries, they can't be trusted with a small child. Denth will say this in such an offhanded and charming way that you will definitely feel compelled to tell them, "Don't be silly! I know my child will be safe with you two."

Don't do it. Your child will NOT be safe.

Keep looking.

9. Telsin [Mistborn Era 2]: Not a great idea

Best-case scenario, being a good babysitter is somehow an important skill to Autonomy, in which case Telsin will in fact give it her all. You'll come back from your dinner & movie to find that your baby has a Harvard PhD and is mayor of a small town.

But more likely than not, if Telsin wants to watch your child, then she has nefarious plans that involve murder and world domination, and that's probably not the future you want for junior.

10. Straff [Mistborn Era 1]: No

Hahahahaha no.

Just no.

11. Lord Ruler [Mistborn Era 1]: Will immediately hand your kid off to his subordinates

The Lord Ruler is not gonna babysit your kid. He's gonna hand that child off immediately to his subordinates, the obligators. Your best-case is that the obligators also hand your child off to their subordinates, all the way down until your child ends up with a skaa servant who actually has some semblance of human love still in their heart. Worst-case, you find your child sitting on a dusty floor playing with spikes you hope are just rusty.

I'd recommend choosing a different babysitter.

12. Moash [Stormlight]: Not worth the risk

It's not like Moash is just evil for evil's sake or anything, but we know he doesn't have an issue killing innocents (RIP Teft) and he is currently trying to suppress his conscience wholesale. Now, if your child cannot be used in any schemes, I don't think Moash will hurt them for no reason. But if they CAN be used for schemes, then your child might be dropped off a tall tower to distract Kaladin or something. Best-case scenario, your child is returned to you safe & sound but has been given an Evil Baby Makeover (exactly the same outfit as before but it's black now).

I just don't think its worth the risk.

...Evil Baby Makeover might be kinda cute, though.

[manikas-whims]

how Zayne from Love and Deepspace will react when he finds out you're on your period..

You get a call from the Akso Hospital and are suddenly requested to pay a visit.

You don't understand what's happening but leave your work desk all the same.

The moment you arrive and speak to the receptionist, she informs that you have a check-up scheduled with Dr. Zayne for today.

You're slightly surprised and confused because despite being a little messy, you do keep up with your own schedule, and you clearly don't remember having any such check-ups.

Regardless, you head towards Zayne’s office.

[moments later]

You give a knock on the door to announce your arrival before walking in.

Zayne is already putting down the documents in his hands and by the time you reach his desk, he's scrutinizing you, as if searching for any signs of something off with you.

“What is it?” You ask in frustration. There's a load of mission reports waiting at your work desk that you need to finish and submit this week, and frankly you don't have much time right now.

Zayne merely raises a brow as if offended by your curt tone.

“Sit.” He commands.

You deliberately sigh loudly before taking a seat. “I don't have any check-ups today, Zayne. Why did you call me?”

“Correct me if I am wrong but it must be the second day of your menstrual cycle?” He states so calmly as if making an absurd remark about the weather.

You're quite mortified for a moment. But then mortification is replaced by annoyance. Doctor or not, your periods are your problem and Zayne isn't supposed to comment on how you deal with them.

You narrow your eyes at him. “That’s..none of your business.”

“It is since your captain called up.” Zayne supplies calmly.

“Jenna?” You're confused. Why would she?

“She informed me about your not so peaceful conversation with a guy from the Data Analysis Department.” He speaks, his lips slowly curving up into a smirk.

“Nero was the one who wouldn't shut up!” You tell him.

“And she also informed me how you choked the life out of your coffee mug using your evol. That's a misconduct if I've ever heard of it.”

Okay misusing your evol wasn't exactly right. But crumbling your mug with it did help with the stomach cramps. Even if just a teensy bit.

By this point you’re gripping the armrests of the chair a little too tightly. His knowing smirk isn't helping either. Combining all that with your mood swings enrages you even more.

But before you can lash out at him. Give him the same treatment you gave Nero and your coffee mug. Say something that you'll definitely regret later on, he leaves his chair and comes to stand right in front of you.

“Take the rest of the day off.” He says. Neither a friendly suggestion nor a doctor's advice. Just an outright order. And you don't like that.

“I can’t. I have reports to finish.”

He sighs before fishing something out from one of his desk drawers. Then, he pours a glass of water and comes back to you, offering the said glass along with a pill in his other hand.

You immediately recognize the painkiller and shake your head. “I don't take those.”

“You should.” He says emphatically, nudging the items towards you.

“Absolutely not!” You feel your voice crack a little. You have a lot of work left to do. You really need to get going.

But Zayne isn't deterred by your words. He steps even closer, and speaks in a softer tone. The same one that he uses only on rare occasions. When he's being earnest to you.

“Not taking the painkillers doesn't make you stronger than the rest of the women in the world.” He puts the glass in your hand, and offers the pill again. “You must acknowledge your pain, and work to overcome it in the most efficient ways.”

You bite your lip because he's only being reasonable. You must look like an absolute brat to him.

“Fine.” Your voice comes out a little shaky from holding back your tears as you accept the pill and swallow it.

“Good girl.” He pats your head. “Now let’s get you home.”

You agree to take the remaining day off but he doesn’t need to waste anymore time on you. He must realize that he has his own share of work to do. And you are a responsible adult. You can’t always rely on him. You can do things on your own despite the hardships.

“I can go by myself.” You mumble.

“I know. But let me help. I have the right to help you.”

“You have the right to?” Once more, annoyance begins flaring up in your head. “On what account? Being my personal physician!?”

He smiles softly. Genuinely. “On account of being your friend.”

His admission stuns you into silence and you avert your gaze.

How can he be so kind? He's being so unfair! Now you look even worse of a brat.

You feel ashamed for behaving the way you did.

“Come on.” He beckons, offering a hand.

You hesitate for a moment before putting your own palm into his bigger one.

His fingers curl around your wrist instead and he tugs you forward, helping you stand, his arm now coming to wrap around your shoulder.

“Let’s go.”

He's already directing you out of the room and locking its door when you murmur. “Zayne?”

“What is it?” He asks as he tucks away his glasses into the pocket of his coat.

“Sorry for getting mad at you.”

He scoffs. “It’s understandable in your current predicament.”

You watch him fish out his car keys and speak again. “No seriously. Thank you for everything you do. You're more than just a friend.”

He cocks his head to the side but you still catch him smiling wide this time. “The feeling is mutual.”

Here it is! Hope y'all like it. I'm still new to writing for Love and Deepspace so bear with me 🥹

Rafayel version coming soon!

AND THANK YOU FOR READING ♡

» MASTERLIST «

[chocsra]

✧ STORMBRINGER CHUUYA AS YOUR GUY BSF IS .... (pt 2 -> pt 1!)

✧ w/c: 770 ✧ content: drabbles & headcanons of cute things with best friend!stormbringer! chuuya

☆ watching as you do your makeup, his upper lip hinged into an annoyed frown. "did you know, if you hurried up we could get your damn ice cream much quicker?" the teenager rolls his eyes as he stands beside you, extending his wrist to examine the time on his analog wristwatch—expense swimming in his choice of attire. you ignore him as you draw a fine streak of eyeliner into a mirror, chuuya purses his lips in boredom. "its just ice cream." he repeats, before ruffling his russet hair, not paying attention to how your gripping the instrument much tighter. "its just ice cre—" before the boy could finish his sentence, he was soon cut off to eyeliner being thrown straight at his face.

☆ enabling his nosy side, any activity he was doing being completely dismissed as soon as new gossip inhabits the area.

"[y/n], i think i saw your ex-boyfriend today." he whispers, fiddling with his gloves in thought. you, studying in a library, immediately stopped your pencil and paid your undivided attention to the redhead. "what do you mean you saw my ex?" you question, sassily glaring at him as he elegantly sips on some coffee. "y'know, the one that wasn't ready for a relationship." chuuya says, "that was something else, we never dated." you scoff in disbelief, returning to your schoolwork. the redhead cocks a brow in annoyance, "yea yea, whatever. point is, i saw that jackass with another girl, to hell he wasn't ready for a relationship." another girl? you immediately drop your pencil again and drop your jaw, "what?" the boy nods sassily, pulling out his phone to show you a picture of indeed a romantic date of your ex-talking stage and another girl in a makeup store. "holy shit, i think i know her." you clasp a hand over your mouth, cheek smushed against his shoulder to get a closer look. "but why were you in a makeup store alone?"

...

an overcoming silence took over the two of you, "shut up." he quips before turning off his phone and motioning you to continue studying.

☆ watching movies with completely different reactions. sometimes, you'd go to the movie theatre together, watch in the middle of the night on a video call, or in the comfort of one of your homes. he'd curl his upper lip into a leer at some shoujo anime as you would giggle and kick your feet. "oh my god, he's practically harrassing her, he should be arrested." chuuya complains, looking extremely distressed at the current predicament of the show, looking over to you for approval of this treatment. you could only fawn and giggle, "usui takumi!"

☆ chuuya enjoys action movies, but sometimes complains when they're not accurate or over-exaggerated. he fanboys whenever gravity is mentioned and genuinely closes his eyes in a deep sadness whenever a dog's story is told. you have never seen him more upset than when you watched "a dog's way home" together.

☆ being so envious of chuuya's damn eyelashes. they're long and luscious with a natural lift that almost looks like they were curled. his lashes often contrasted with his stormy eye colour and freckle-stained cheeks. you'd find home in the storm by holding eyelash curler, pinching at his lashes as the boy huffs and groans. "it hurts— dammnit!" the redhead pouts, pushing your fingers away, messing up the calcuations of your hand as his eyelid gets pinched. "chuuya!" you (both) scream.

☆ there's something else about doing his makeup against his will, though. the subtle look in his eyes, the kind of look that brews up something in the pit of your stomach. he peers through his lashes and the handle of your brush, the two of you making silent eye contact in your room before quickly turning away.

☆ chuuya getting pissed off whenever you snap a unflattering photo of him. so in return, he shoves his phone in your face at the randomest time to catch a photo even the port mafia wouldn't be able to get out of you. instead, he stares at the picture each time, and even if you're struggling to get the boy to delete it, he just screams: "why can't i take a bad photo?!"

☆ sometimes wondering where you lay on friendship. why do you feel so drawn to chuuya, and why does he feel so close to you? his mind tells him you're his dearest friend, but his heart aches for something more. since the redhead believes a heart is what he lacks, he'll never accept the risk of loving someone, loving you.

✧ chocsra™

[rosenclaws]

congrats on 600 followers!!! so happy for you hun 💗 for your celebration, can i request “This will be the last time you lie to me.” with worst!logan?

warnings: reader is a human and doesn't know logan is a mutant

600 follower drabble masterlist

a/n: I'm recovering from arcane s2 act 2 but I love me some logan angst so I hope u enjoy!!

Hours. That's how long he made you wait. Again. Stuck at a restaurant getting pitiful looks from the waitstaff after your boyfriend stood you up. This was how many times now?

When you first met Logan you knew he wasn't your typical guy. He wasn't going to be that perfect boyfriend who you take home to your parents and you were okay with that. He worked construction and had a weird roommate. He held more alcohol than you thought a man could and he never seemed to get sick.

You knew who he was. Or you thought you did. You didn't expect big dates or grand gestures from Logan. He still made you happy. He loved you in his own Logan way. But when he promised you something you thought he'd be there.

Rain checking dates over and over without reason. At first it was fine but then it kept happening. He made up a variety excuses but you were fed up. He had work, family emergency, vet emergency. What isn't he telling you? All you wanted was for him to be honest.

You call the waiter over and pay for your side of fries. You weren't even hungry anymore. The rain is pouring down onto the pavement as you exit the restaurant.

You took the train here but they've stopped running by now. Normally Logan would pick you up because he hates when you take public transportation. You'd turn on the radio and he'd grumble about how bad the music of today is but you'll catch him humming along sometimes. You miss that. You tighten your jacket around you as you step into the pouring rain. Deciding to walk home tonight. The rain soaks your clothes to the bone. You're cold and shivering and you're just sad.

"What the hell are you doing?" A voice shouts at you through the rain. That's Logan. Heavy footsteps pound the towards you but you ignore them.

It doesn't take long for him to catch up to you. The rain stops and you look up to see an umbrella above you. The rain now hitting his clothes as he makes sure you're covered. He's all dressed up but it's too late.

"Do you have any idea how dangerous it for you to be out here?" You roll your eyes and ignore him. He doesn't stop following you.

"I'm sorry for missing our date." He watches your face, no change in your reaction.

"I was on my way I swear but the Wade called and I..."

"Enough!" You snap.

"Logan I like you, I really like you but you just keep lying!" You frustrated tears mix with the rain as you yell at him.

“This will be the last time you lie to me.” Logan catches your arm before you can storm off. He knows he's been a dick. He has been lying but not for the reason you think. He's trying to protect you.

"Sweetheart please, let me explain." He begs. You're the one good thing he's found and he won't lose you.

"I. I'm..." He can't find the words. How does he explain it all. You don't know who he is, what he is.

"Goodbye Logan."

"I'm a mutant!" He blurts out. "I. I'm an X-Man" Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. Of course you heard of the X-men. Who they were. But they're gone now. He can see you don't believe him so he holds his hands up. Claws shoot out of his knuckles making you gasp.

"Why wouldn't you tell me?" You gently run your fingers around the sharp blades.

"Destruction follows me wherever I go sweetheart. Mutants, we're never safe. I wanted to keep you safe and as selfish as it sounds I couldn't walk away from you." The claws slowly sink back into his skin. It heals up before your very eyes. Your hand cups his face, his eyes closing at your touch. He pulls you close. The umbrella shielding both of you from the rain now.

"I'm not afraid of you, or what being a mutant means Logan." You're human, you don't have any special powers or anything but you do know how to love and you love Logan.

"No more hiding okay." You grab his hand and he takes it, thanking whatever power that you're still here. He doesn't have to hide who he is, you're not afraid.

[morlock-holmes]

Still thinking about that Astral Codex Ten AI Art Turing test...

I mean... Obviously the one on the right is the human one. Is this some kind of prank? Am I on candid camera?

My suspicion is that what this test demonstrates most conclusively is that we are so thoroughly bombarded with images that we have developed the defensive measure of paying as little attention to them as possible.

We get the gist and then move on as quickly as possible.

Here's someone who did much better than I did on this test explaining their results.

This demonstrates fairly conclusively that nearly all the AI images Alexander chose do in fact, have "tells" which are extremely plain when you attend closely to the details.

In fact, I managed to get 2 out of every 3 correct even with an incredibly lazy and fast-paced assessment carried out on my phone without much recourse to fine detail.

There are two trends I noticed in the comments of the results post.

First, a significant number of ACX posters harbor a suspicion and resentment towards art and good taste, which leads them to suspect that all artistic judgement is essentially arbitrary and based on clout. They don't notice the difference, so there must not be a difference.

Second, a number of people who are clearly AI skeptics gave ground and accepted the idea that the AI images were lacking in "tells" and were especially good, and instead attempted to attack the test on the grounds that this kind of curation was itself unfair.

Both responses indicate, to me, both a fascination with images and a kind of, for lack of a better word, illiteracy about them.

And perhaps most interestingly this illiteracy doesn't seem to obviously vary between pro and anti-AI readers.

To go back to the side by side landscapes up there, the landscape on the left probably has the fewest obvious "tells" of AI art, maybe of all the AI images.

It's also just, you know, a much worse piece of art than the one on the right?

To go back to what I said in an earlier post, the painting on the right draws the eye down the hill. The two figures on the path are expertly set off so that even though they are barely suggested with just a couple of brush strokes, they immediately stand out and draw the eye, causing you to follow the same path they are taking down into the village.

Contrast the image on the left. Which part of the painting is your eye drawn to first? It could really by almost anywhere. No part of the picture is more important than any other, there's very little contrast between, say, the village on the right and the wildflowers on the left. What detail there is is largely because, well, otherwise there wouldn't be a painting.

If you asked 100 art critics which of those paintings was by a renowned master and which one you found hanging in a dentist's office I think all 100 would give you the same answer.

Or take this one:

If you really, really zoom in on the hand on our right, the anatomy is probably wonky, but I didn't notice that, I just thought,

"Okay, but, like, what is this angel, like... Doing?"

This figure, painted in this style, is rife with symbolism. Most likely an angel, or at the very least Icarus, it ought to be extremely clear what sort of emotional/cultural/allegorical/etc. meaning is being communicated, but it is just sort of... looking off yearningly towards nothing.

Culturally, it's just not something that a human would paint as a finished piece.

Actually in general AI seems to tend to either not have a clear focal point, or to have one extremely obvious subject placed right smack dab in the center of the frame.

One of the subtle visual gags in Monty Python and The Holy Grail is that the peasants are often doing things that look, on very cursory examination, as though they are some kind of agricultural activity, but actually they are just hitting random patches of ground with a stick or sitting on the ground and moving mud into a big pile.

And same with this Angel; it looks, at casual glance, to be doing "Angel type stuff" and if you just keep moving you leave with the impression that everything was fine.

But if you stop yourself, go back, and ask, "Wait, specifically what is it doing?" you really can't come up with anything more specific than, "Angel type stuff".

This sort of vagueness is also a tell of AI art.

If what I'm saying sounds a bit frustrated or mean-spirited I think it's because looking at this test has solidified something that I haven't really been able to articulate before, which sort of sums up to the vast majority of talk about AI, regardless of what the conclusion is, evidences a strong emotional investment in images paradoxically combined with a sort of estrangement from them and often even a strong resentment towards them.

Both pro and anti-AI imagery camps contain a tremendous number of people who feel imagery as a kind of imposition, with AI as either an emancipatory force aimed at a tyrannical art world bent on crushing us with arbitrary, incomprehensible images or, on the other hand, as a tyrannical force set to flood us helplessly with a set of incomprehensible images almost entirely against our will.

[champagnedstappen]

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader. This is a simple Christmas blurb. ;)

Perhaps his skin becomes so much lighter is because the colour of snow. There's theory where someone's skin is usually getting more light if the background is also light and not dark. Maybe the theory also works on him. Because in your eyes, he looks more... How can you say it? Glowing mayhaps.

You look at him thoughtfully, when you thought this man couldn't be more fine, then he always proved it. Clearly this is one of his moments. He looks at you, abandoning his skiing pole on the ground full of snow. You're shivering, sure you're using many layers, but holy shit, you're not used to cold temperatures. Clearly will never be.

"Mon cœur... Are your still shivering?" He asks. You are about to scoff, not enjoying any questions from him while he asked it with hint of humour—the urge to laugh at you, you can see it on his eyes, you know him too well anyway.

As he try reaching you while walking, leaving his pole with his friends—having conversation about skiing you clearly don't understand about, you're kicking some of the snow on the ground. You should be enjoying the trip. Last year, Charles tried to get you on board on the trip, but failed at the attempt since you were so against the cold temperatures, knowing how bad you can be.

You snap jokingly, well you can't be mad at him nonetheless. "What do you think, Leclerc?" At that, he laughs and finally standing in front of you. Hands on your waist, creating some patterns you don't really pay attention to in this situation.

"My love, I'm not laughing. I'm fully concerned," he continues. Making his face to full acting, trying to look like he's not going to make fun of you. Yet his eyes are soft, looking at you like you're his favourite person to be with, like you're all that matter. Making you knees buckle.

It's your turn to laugh before sighing. "I don't know why you asked me to be part of the trip. I can't even do anything, I'm only slowing you and the guys."

His green eyes—which you've noticed since you first met looking straight at you. There's some frowns that you hate so much. During the season, you knew how much pressure he had. Ferrari battling for the World Constructor Championship added to his shoulder, making it a cherry on top, you'd say.

After Abu Dhabi, his mood worsened. Loosing the title to McLaren certainly made his mind wander over something not certain and useless in your perspective. He kept blaming himself, thinking all What-Ifs, if only he did this, if only he didn't, if only he was better.

You hate it. You think his frown and depressive stare are your biggest nemesis. Something that you wish Avengers could fight like when they fought against Thanos.

You remember those days where you couldn't attend the Grand Prix, having jobs you needed to be at, he called you after the free practice, qualifying, hours after race—especially after bad results, he tends to be alone after bad race, not wanting to throw some tantrums or putting his anger at you. It leaves some bad spots on your emotions, seeing him so sad and blaming himself adding your personal problems with the sports.

You just want this trip to be his healing list. You don't want to worsen his days by making his holiday worse than ever.

Yet he shrugs it off. "Baby, what are you taking about? I only agreed to this winter trip so we can have our time together. If you didn't agree, I wouldn't too. I'd rather stay at home, maybe doing something funny while decorating Christmas tree with you, ma chérie."

These are the moments where you are sure that before you meet him, you never understood the situation of love. Back in the days you only think that love was impossible for you. Because in your mind, you thought, what could be love from you? There's nothing special. You're just... You. You're no model, you're no extravaganza, you're... No special.

But then there's interesting Monégasque who does anything to make you feel loved. Who's every actions makes you like you're everything. Who's actions are calculated, proofing how he would do anything for you.

Just, maybe, if you are loved too after you met him.

He continues. "We can stay in any city that you want. Summer, winter, any season doesn't matter. And like other every cities than exist in this world, there is city in my heart where you are its only population."

"Oh, Charles Leclerc. You're a fucking simp. Now teach me."

Yes, this moment definitely on your 'He's the proof where I am loved too' list.

"و في قلبي مدينة كُل سُكانها أنتي.'

"And there is a city in my heart where you are its only population." By Mahmoud Darwish.

[sanguineterrain]

Ahhhh yes I'm so excited that you're writing spencer! Could I request something with a reader who's also considered "weird" by people (aka neurodivergent) and it gets them down but spencer doesn't think they're weird obviously and maybe they bond over that? I hope this makes sense 🩷 love ur fics!!

hope this is okay :) spencer reid x gn!reader. rude cop alert, reader feels down about not picking up on invisible social expectations/cues, Spencer comforts them. ty for requesting!

****

New crime scenes make you lock in and hone your attention. You've always done that. Ever since you started at the BAU, that's meant that you break some invisible rule more often than not.

You approach the cop who called in the case from behind. "When did you find the—

He flinches, dropping his clipboard. Immediately, he rounds on you, annoyance palpable.

"Jesus, knock much?" he asks, brow low with frustration. "Sneaking up on people in this line of work is a bad habit."

"I'm sorry," you say, not quite sure what you're apologizing for. "When did you—"

"And who are you, exactly?" he interrupts, looking you over. "Selling cookies?" He laughs at his joke.

You push through, showing your badge and saying your name. The cop snorts.

"FBI, huh? Wouldn't have guessed. You don't act like it. You know you're supposed to sign in, right?"

"Yes, I know. I've been here for ten minutes," you say. You can't pinpoint exactly what you sense, but you recognize the tone someone gets when they're making fun of you.

"Ten minutes?" The cop looks past you. "I didn't see you."

"I signed in at 8:14."

You've learned that being precise is very important because it makes people more likely to believe you. Sometimes your precision puts people off, but you have to show them that you pay attention, lest they have any doubts.

"Uh-huh. Look, is your supervisor here? Someone in charge? I need to give this report to someone."

"You can give it to me. I was assigned to this case," you say.

He snorts. "Right. First time sniffing around a murder case, rookie?"

You blink, confused. "No. This is my thirty-third case."

He's about to respond when Derek interrupts. He flashes his badge, says his name, and the cop clearly respects him, straightening up.

"What have we got here?" Derek asks, and the cop launches into the explanation you've been wanting since you started the conversation.

You get that prickling sensation on your neck, that feeling of humiliation when you've missed some cue. Your first thought is that maybe the cop doesn't respect younger agents, but it's more than that. It's always more.

It's always something you've done.

You slink away, and Derek doesn't even glance at you, which is fine. He's busy. You won't take it personally.

You drift over to Hotch and Spencer instead. Hotch is talking to a witness who heard the gunshots. Spencer is supplementing his questions with information about how bullets splinter different types of wood. He looks at you as you approach and that instantly makes you feel better. Spencer never ignores you.

"Thank you very much," Hotch finally says, touching the witness on her arm briefly. "We'll call you if we have more questions. Someone will drive you home. If you'll follow me out."

She follows Hotch and then it's you and Spencer.

"What do you think?" you ask.

He shrugs. "Too early to tell. The witness said she heard sounds after the shots that she didn't recognize. What did the officer say?"

You shrug. "I don't know. Derek's taking his statement."

"I thought you were," Spencer says in confusion.

"I tried to, but he wouldn't talk to me. He said I don't act like an FBI agent. Called me a rookie."

It's part of the job, these kinds of interactions. Not every government worker is the nicest.

"I don't understand what's wrong with me," you say before Spencer can say anything. It's too honest for a crime scene. Anyone else would be annoyed by your whining.

Spencer shakes his head. "Nothing's wrong with you."

"I feel like there is," you say quietly.

Spencer's the only one who understands. He's been called every name under the sun. He's so smart, and you're always in awe at how smart he is, but, according to Hotch, some people get intimidated rather than awed and say mean things as a result.

You're not a genius like Spencer, though. You're just an agent. You're fine at your job, but sometimes you don't even get the chance to demonstrate that. You have no idea what makes you fumble simple interactions like taking a statement.

"So he made it seem like you're inexperienced," Spencer says.

You nod. "I don't know why. I went to him, about to ask a question, but I guess I startled him. He snapped at me to not sneak up on people. Then I apologized. People like when you apologize, right?"

Spencer shrugs thoughtfully. "Sometimes. Apparently, it's a very fine line between when you should and when you shouldn't. Did you introduce yourself?"

You frown. "Later, I did."

He hums. "Apparently, people don't respect our authority unless we're flashing it obnoxiously. That's what Penelope told me. Take a page out of Derek's book."

You both look at Derek, who's got his hands on his hips, posturing like he's in a procedural drama. Spencer shares in your laughter. It's like drinking the sweetest, richest cup of hot chocolate when Spencer looks at you like that.

"Do you do that?" you ask, smiling.

"Ah, apparently, I haven't quite nailed it. I'm the least approachable agent on the team, according to a DEA agent."

Your face falls. "I think you're approachable."

Spencer lifts his hands as if to say, what can you do? Maybe you should be the same. It's just so hard.

"I can't do anything right," you blurt, sobering up. "There's so many rules, Spencer. I just want to solve cases. Isn't that why we're here? That's why I went to the cop in the first place."

You feel babyish for complaining. You know what someone else would say: suck it up. But this job sometimes feels like you're on the field playing baseball, and everybody else is playing chess. No one else seems to struggle with the invisible rules of being an agent. No one except...

"Yeah, but to that officer, it's also an assertion of power," Spencer says. "He's the kind of person who only responds to perceived authority. He didn't perceive authority from you, even though you have it, because you wouldn't be here if you didn't. So, he thinks you should've cowed to him and flattered him with inane niceties to get the information that you deserve to know to begin with."

You blink. "Really? All that?"

Spencer nods. "I've known lots of people like him. Classic law enforcement personality. For the record, I think it's stupid. You're smart, and you're good at your job. You shouldn't have to make yourself smaller to get people to do what's expected of them."

"I wish I could do something quiet," you say morosely. "Do autopsies or something. Stay out of the way."

Being quiet is easier. You work in a place where some talking is necessary, but it's also not strange to think quietly for periods of time. And people can't get mad at you when you're quiet.

But then, you really love the BAU. You'd hate to be transferred. You'd hate to be away from Spencer Reid.

"I don't want you to be quiet. You're good at what you do here," he says. "Don't let an insecure person make you doubt yourself. Also, you're not inexperienced: you've solved thirty-three cases."

You grin. There's nothing quite like being seen.

"Tell me more about bullets and different wood types," you say.

Spencer's face lights up, and you suddenly feel more sure that this is exactly where you're meant to be.

[dreamermonica]

love of a kind !

in which they are in need of your undivided attention while you're busy—clingy headcannons for the boys!

—includes isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, nagi seishiro, mikage reo, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, michael kaiser

—gender of reader is not specificied, fluff, comfort, some crack, idiots in love wtv

ISAGI when he notices that he hasn't received that much affection from you today; 😧😞😣☹️—he's an adorable and understanding cinnamon roll even if he's quite sad though! he won't bother you and patiently wait around until you're done with whatever you're doing before wrapping you in his arms all for himself. he knows you'll be done before he knows it, so he just waves off the horrifying initial realization that you weren't giving him his daily doses of kisses and cuddles—opting to watch some football videos on his phone in the meantime. he'd probably even help you with it too if it's in his area of expertise. ah, he's so cute. we worship green flags in this house baby!!

“thanks for being patient, yoichi. there's just too many things i need to do.”

“aha, it's fine to prioritize some things over my needs sometimes! but just always make sure you make it up to me by the end of the day, okay?”

BACHIRA loudly whines and latches onto you not much unlike a koala. he's now loudly complaining against your ear as to why you aren't cuddling him like usual and that it's making him itch for your touch, completely disregarding the work you're doing on hand as he all but begs you to get into bed with him and sleep the day away. you're tempted to scold him for interrupting you but then you remember that he rarely gets day offs like these, especially now that he's directly put in a path to become a pro. so with a withheld sigh and a pat of approval to his head, you both unceremoniously crash into the sheets and huddle together for warmth.

“this is the first time you aren't trying to tickle me...do you have an ulterior motive?”

“hehe, i really just want to spend more time with you, you know! so pretty please—indulge me and drop all your thoughts about your work for now. just this once.”

NAGI latches onto you too, but he just, remains quiet unlike mr. bumblebee over here. he's much like a domestic pet cat when clingy, and if you're being honest; it's goddamn adorable. he's boredly slumping over your form, playing video games on his phone while you're doing whatever you need to do on your desk. it seems that when he's deprived of affection, his first instinct is to just touch you in any way instead of kindly asking for your attention like a normal, mentally stable lover would do. though you don't entirely mind his little intrusion on your personal space. it's endearing that he still acknowledges you're busy and just deals with his neediness himself by quietly accompanying you.

“if i finish this game before you finish your work, can we cuddle the rest of the day?”

“nagi.”

“sorry. it was worth a shot.”

REO dials up someone and has a conversation for like, three minutes maximum and just stares at you right after the call. for a minute. then another minute. and then another. a few more minutes passes and then—oh! your boss suddenly calls you out of nowhere and tells you that the papers don't need to be done anymore and that you can enjoy the rest of your weekend without any hitches? how convenient! reo wants some time of your day right now as well! what a coincidence! definitely not the innerworkings of a child of nepotism! wow! you're currently side-eyeing him as you ask your boss what's with sudden change of plans.

“...reo, what did you do?”

“nothing...too significant. just a bit of bribing so you can finally pay attention to me. something wrong with it?” atleast he's honest.

RIN sulks silently. although it's subtle enough that most people wouldn't see him being more moody than usual, it still doesn't change the fact that it's a complete shock to anyone that knows him personally. rin—the ever cool and composed yet arrogant talent, him, out of all people—seemingly throwing an underhanded tantrum over you barely noticing him throughout the day? he's a lot more pissy that day, leading his friends to get down on their knees and beg you to talk to the man himself or else their practice won't progress any further. when you do comply and talk to him, his frown immediately disappears and now he's melting into a puddle while you soothingly card your fingers through his hair. it's that easy.

“isagi told me you were getting a bit sloppy during your practice. you okay?”

“hm. i only did horrible in practice today because your lukewarm brain forgot to give me a kiss this morning. i won't forgive you for that.”

SAE doesn't make it obvious, but he does leave hints that it bothers him. he's not a petty person, but he is a petty lover. if he ever notices one day that you haven't been talking to him as much as usual, you bet that he'd return it with much vigor. not in a bad way though—he won't fully ignore you, it's just that if he had water, and you were on fire—he'd drink it. just kidding though! he's not that mean. he'd definitely wait until you start begging for water though, silly him! but okay, jokes aside, he probably won't even mind it that much. sure, there's this small pang in his chest, but it's fine. nothing he can't handle. just don't be surprised if he suddenly starts taking longer to respond to your calls and messages in the following days though. he's angy. >:(

“sae, are you mad at me?”

“yes, but i still want to talk to you, so shut up and continue doing your work while i cook dinner for us.”

KAISER just raises a brow when he does realize that you haven't been paying any attention to him in the past hour or so. like what? excuse me? his egoistical ass is wondering why aren't you showering affection and devotion over this talented and handsome youth such as he? he's certain he's the emperor in his story—someone you should definitely spend all your time and attention on instead of some damned paperwork. in the end—he turns to the dehumanizing decision of pestering you like an insect until you finally give him the acts of love he wants. he's a persistent man—nothing much you can do when he's groveling at your feet for a shred of attention. to think that you can reduce a living legend to...whatever this is.

“please, my love, my queen, my darling, my world, my everything—each passing second you don't look into my eyes is reinforcing my will to disappear from this world and thus—”

“stop searching for lines on google, you weirdo.”

average kaiser kisser coping that he'd be an utter simp when someone that he has to prove himself to comes along his merry way and destroy his little roleplay of being king because said someone doesn't give a fuck about him <333