#diffusion of responsibility

[arcticdementor]

Sam Lowry: I only know you got the wrong man. Jack Lint: Information Transit got to wrong man. I got the right man. The 'wrong man' was delivered to me as the 'right man.' I accepted him on good faith as the 'right man.' Was I wrong? Sam Lowry: You killed Buttle? Jack Lint: Sam, there are very rigid parameters laid down to prevent such things happening. It wasn't my fault that Buttle's heart condition didn't appear on Tuttle's file… We're going to have to bring Mr. Tuttle in, aren't we? And interrogate him at the same voltage as Mr. Buttle - and juggle the books in electrical banking. Sam Lowry: What has Tuttle done? Jack Lint: We suspect him of, uh, free lance subversion. Then all I need to wrap up the case is the Layton woman. Sam Lowry: What has she done? Jack Lint: Oh, she witnessed the Tuttle, uhm, the Buttle arrest and essentially is going around making wild allegations, obviously trying to exploit the situation. She's working for someone and I don't think it's us.

—Brazil (1985)

[spirefan]

Let's talk about the power of self-worth and helping those that feel voiceless know their own worth against those that seek to control others on this killer Monday:

[toughtink]

here's the thing about playing around with generative "ai" aka applied statistics based on stolen data: even if it's just for teehee haha laughs and funtime for you, even if you're not using it to replace real talent in a professional setting, it's a tacit endorsement of these shady as fuck, unethical training models and companies that will happily use your teehee haha generated memes to sell their tech to others who will then happily replace real creative people with technology that seeks to undermine them and then have to rehire those people at half the pay and with none of the credit to fix the absolute sludge they're generating in place of a proper job. and that's the optimistic outcome because the alternative is they say "good enough" about this meaningless, lowest-common-denominator sludge and send it out to consumers as is.

even if you're just the consumer in this system and not one of the creatives getting undercut, why in the world would you want to read or watch or interact with something that no one could even be bothered to make themselves? why in the world would you want to encourage that future?

[nyxi-pixie]

finished s3 and stand firm in shauna defense EASY WORK!!!!!!!!!!!

[daveinediting]

As always, once I start focusing my thoughts on a specific creative challenge, at some point something somewhere inside my brain starts connecting the dots and expanding the canvas.

I have no idea how that works, it just does. 🤔

Anyway, I've been at this for the last coupla weeks, considering how a particular stage production should manifest itself. How it should look, feel, and sound to an audience. And a few days ago I managed to set some objectives and strategies to the endeavor: the kind of experience being crafted... and some specific tools that could be used to craft the experience. An essential first step.

Over the weekend, I had the pleasure of attending the album release party for a local band. It was profoundly energized from start to finish, a show fit for even larger concert venues with its huge production value both in visuals and sound. I paid attention to my experience, how I responded to each song performance in the moment... and I paid attention to how the audience, packed wall to wall, front to back, responded. Which is basically me observing what excels, how performances land, the energy dynamic of the audience across the entire show, what the different experiences between the song performances are... and why.

The concert definitely gave me a heightened appreciation for production value and the impact it has on audience experience.

So then a coupla days go by and I'm hanging out with a friend who's a musician. They're sharing some music with me that's absolutely captured their reverence. So we listen to the songs and I realize some things.

The first is that some songs work better than others in concert. Because "in concert" is a wild sonic environment. It's not an environment made for appreciating subtleties and details. It's a crafted experience. And within that experience, certain things are possible and certain things are not.

I listened to one song that was simple in its production that would definitely land in a concert environment (which caused and still causes me to remember another such song that failed in that environment but I know why it failed). I listened to another, quite different song with spoken vocal loops and complex rhythms that would also fully land in a concert environment. And we did talk about the kinds of songs that wouldn't work as well and why. Among which are songs that are dense in language that doesn't get processed in real time when competing with complex music arrangements and just the energy of the room.

In a live environment, each word of a song can land and land hard... as opposed to other songs where the music might not be memorable and most of the words can sort of mentally slip by without leaving evidence of having been heard.

Or even written.

We kept listening because suddenly I was learning a lot. Having an insight-fest. As in traditionally what's crafted for record is performed for a live audience. The best recordings, of course. The most popular. Which makes sense in a prior world with older technology and different assumptions.

But how about this?

Certain creative endeavors are best experienced as recordings

Certain creative endeavors are best experienced live, and

Certain creative endeavors can exist at their best in both circumstances either as is or in some variation.

Meaning...

Release some efforts for recording only. Release some efforts for live experiences only. And release some efforts for both.

And then a fully formed experience came to me.

Why?

I'm guessing because of the critical mass developing during this moment of insight upon insight. So now I have an idea for the stage production I've been considering the last coupla weeks. Doesn't have to be the beginning of the show... but it can be.

The idea is based on one of the songs in the stage production that references the city of Paris. Which made me think of traveling. Which made me think of family vacations. Which made me think—because I'm of a certain age—of family vacation slide shows of old. Or family vacations as captured on 8mm film and shown in the living room with a projector.

And so on.

Later, I was talking to the composer of the stage show, pitching them my idea on how that piece of the show could work. And then they had an idea of how they thought what I described could be performed another way, each idea leaning into a different objective for the audience experience. Which is great. Because they're trying to craft an audience experience. And where the song lands in the overall performance and what the demands of that moment are...

Will determine the how of how the song should be presented.

Anyway... it was a helluva morning.

The kind I love most.

😁

[feralparsnip]

like this is real and u are correct but also a bit i think gets lost in the general AI discourse is that this. like, diffusion of responsibility for perpetuating bigotry / systemic bieas. is a core part of what makes AI appealing to corporations at all

I'm just saying, "We created a computer to make decisions for us, but it assimilated all of the bias that was implicit in the dataset and now makes incredibly racist decisions that we don't question because computers are logical and don't make mistakes" literally sounds like a planet-of-the-week morality play on the original Star Trek.

[wat3rm370n]

[fingertipsmp3]

That last post just reminded me of something honestly mind-boggling that that friend did

[lionofstone]

i wish i’d watched top gun before i watched 911 because i think hearing “you can have my back any day” with the full context and understanding of what they were referencing would’ve completely altered my brain chemistry

[sainzzrris]

Curly Partner ⋆˙⟡

L. Norris x Reader

category: fluff

warnings: none!

you were getting ready for an event with lando’s family, doing your hair in the mirror.

you look to your right to see flo, lando’s sister, struggling, you lock eyes with her through the mirror as she sighed, setting her hands down.

“need some help?” you ask kindly.

“yes, please” flo replied, “how to your curls look so perfect?”

“oh, thank you, i can style yours if you’d like…”

“yeah! definitely!” you chuckle at her eager response, pulling her towards lando’s room, where all your stuff was.

you barge in the room giggling together as lando was just buttoning up his blouse.

“sit sit!” you say excitedly to flo, pulling a chair in front of the mirror. you take out your hair products and style her curls neatly, quickly drying it off with a diffuser.

you notice lando standing by the side, a wide smile on his face, “what?” you question.

he shrugs, “nothing, you two are cute, that’s all” he says, leaning over to pinch your cheek.

you slap away his hand with a chuckle, continuing to pin flo’s hair in place.

“good? comfortable?” you ask, earning a nod from flo.

“thank you, really, i never know how to deal with my hair”

“of course, i went through the same thing. we can go shopping friday and i’ll show you also the best products!”

“it’s a date!” flo replies excitedly.

“c’mon guys! we’re gonna be late!” adam, their dad, yells from the corridor.

flo runs away towards him, joining her family by the driveway while you finish putting on some earrings and grabbing your purse.

“thank you” lando says randomly to me.

“wha- why exactly?” you ask.

“for helping my sister, means a lot to me”

“yeah, of course, anytime, she’s a sweetheart” you smile.

lando happily wraps an arm around you, walking out the house with you.

[crazy-pages]

Okay so evaluating US mortality rates minus comparable OECD average mortality rates, times 0.9 to remove accidental deaths, multiplied by the 157,000,000 people UHC "serves", UHC is directly responsible for about 59,000 deaths a year. Even generously assuming the CEO of the company is only responsible for 1% of that, he would have killed someone roughly every 15.5 hours for profit.

I'm guessing the suspect list of people with motive is rather long.

Anyway, crab rave gif time? Yeah I'm gonna break out the crab rave gifs.

https://www.reuters.com/world/us/unitedhealthcare-ceo-fatally-shot-ny-post-reports-2024-12-04/

Took him to the hospital but still died. Guess they couldn't get prior authorization approval to save his life.

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Can’t live without your love inside me now

Tags: sextherapist!Nanami x fem!reader, nocurse!au, taboo romance, heavy topics such as sexual assault, dead dove due to the power imbalance and heavy conversation, is this considered angst? idk

Synopsis: In which Kento Nanami is a sex therapist, and his client is a young neglected wife with an emotionally absent husband. He teaches you what love is really all about.

An: Just another warning that this fic deals with heavy themes. It’s honestly been so therapeutic for me to write due to my own history. If it’s not for you, I have plenty of other Nanami fics that are more lighthearted. For the anons in my requests asking for more Nanami, this is for you.

Part one. | Part two.

“With those things in mind, I’m interested in what has brought you into my office today.”

“I’m not sure… Sex just doesn’t appeal to me much anymore.”

Being a sex therapist, Kento Nanami has heard it all. He’s seen this same presenting problem again and again. He’s counseled young and older men with erectile dysfunction. He’s counseled persons of the LGBTQ+ community come to terms with their sexuality and how that relates to sex. He’s counseled so many people who come from purity culture and struggle with sex. He’s counseled couples who can’t seem to get it right in the bedroom. He’s counseled sexual assault survivors.

Kento Nanami prides himself on upholding the ethics of counseling. He keeps the code of ethics proudly sat upon his shelf. His goal as a therapist was to give everyone a safe space to divulge their most vulnerable inner thoughts to him.

Sex was too often treated as a taboo, offensive subject, which is why Nanami got into sex therapy in the first place. He wanted to change the stigma around it. Sex was a basic need for the majority of individuals, and many times, people have poor experiences with sex since it’s not normalized and hardly talked about.

“Okay, so is it fair to say you don’t often feel like you’re in the mood for sex?” he asked as he looked towards his client. A pretty young lady sat across from him on his couch. His “office” was in his home, finding that people often didn’t want to talk about sex in what they considered to be a “public” space like a therapist’s office.

“Yeah, I mean… I just...” your voice trailed off. You already felt like this might be a mistake. Your arms crossed over your chest as it felt like you were naked in front of your incredibly handsome counselor.

His office was nice, serene almost. He had different seating options and all kinds of fidget items around his office. He also had a plethora of books on a shelf behind his desk.

It seems he enjoys spending his time reading up about the art of sex. You can’t help but feel your face warm from thinking about him reading those sorts of things in his free time.

The walls were painted a nice soft blue grey color, and the office smelled like fresh linen from the aroma diffuser in the corner of the room. Several different houseplants were also scattered about. They all looked healthy, assuring you that Nanami paid attention to detail. He was responsible and consistent.

“Take your time,” Nanami assured you as he sat back in his chair. “The first visit is always the hardest. Don’t feel pressured to get down to the bottom of why you’re lacking a sexual drive. These things take time and trial and error.”

That was… almost reassuring. You took a deep breath as your fingers absentmindedly twirled a strand of hair behind your ear. The familiar ministration worked to calm your mind.

“I’m young, and I’m recently married. I have no kids. I feel like I should be… I don’t know— at my sexual prime or something.”

“What gave you that idea?” Nanami probed as he continued observing your small nervous habits. He found his lips trying to curl into a smile, but he kept his face meticulously trained as a look of interest.

“Well, girls talk, you know? My girlfriends talk about their lack of a sex life stemming from other obligations or from a lack of a connection…” you explained as you briefly looked up at Nanami. Each time his hazel eyes met yours, you had to look away immediately.

When you found his information online, you didn’t think he’d be this handsome. You just saw all of his credentials, and you had heard good things about him on different websites centered around “rating” therapists.

Of course, you had done some digging on him. There was no way in hell you were going to go to some strange man’s house to talk about sex. That sounded ridiculous.

“Do you compare yourself to these so called ‘girlfriends’ often?” Nanami asked calmly. His voice was even and smooth, allowing you feel even more safe to open up.

“I mean, no. They’re just all I have in terms of what’s normal for sex.”

“Okay, so let me make sure I understand this right. You lack a sexual drive. You feel guilty that you lack sexual drive because you believe you don’t have a good enough reason to not want sex on a regular basis, and you think that you’re not normal. Does that cover it?”

You winced a bit as it was all laid out on the table for you. Your eyes squeezed shut, trying to hide from how pathetic you sounded. You sheepishly nod in response.

“Y/n, open your eyes for me,” his voice spoke gently, coaxing you to slowly flutter your eyes open to look into his. Once he had your gaze, he went on, “These are all normal feelings to have. I can blab on and on to you about how our society is blatantly misogynistic when it comes to sex, but I’ll spare you the details since I’m sure you’re painfully aware. We’re going to figure this out together, alright?”

You took a deep breath, letting his words wash over you as a security blanket. It was nice to have someone to just talk about these things freely to. You felt a glimmer of hope shine through.

“Okay,” you said with a small nod, feeling more confident now.

“So, you mentioned earlier that you're recently married. Tell me a little bit about that."

You try not to have a physical reaction when Nanami brings up your husband. It was a topic that felt too raw.. too close to home. You’re supposed to be a dutiful wife, right? So, why would you feel that way when talking about your husband?

“Oh, uh… well,” you stammer, looking away from Nanami as you suddenly came up blank on your own marriage. “We got married about a year ago. Some say we’re still in the honeymoon phase, but…”

Nanami perks up a little in his chair. Some therapists take notes or record their sessions. Nanami doesn’t believe in it. He thinks it takes away from the moment. He’d much rather be present with his client rather than jotting down notes.

“But..?” he urges you to go on.

“But… I guess it just doesn’t feel that way.”

“What is your idea of the honeymoon phase? What does that look like to you?” Nanami asks, clasping his hands together in his lap as he relaxes into his chair.

You take a moment to process his question. What does the honeymoon phase look like?

“For me, it looks like the movies where couples do things for each other without being asked. They’re attuned to each other’s emotions, and they make a conscious effort to be sensitive to their partner’s feelings.” Your eyes meet Nanami’s once again, and you let out a deep breath. No one told you that counseling would be this mentally strenuous.

“Okay, what about in your current life? Do you feel like that’s how it is now?”

You nearly laugh from the question. You mentioned that sort of love being in movies because you’ve never seen it in real life. You’re nearly convinced that it doesn’t happen in real life, and anyone who claims to have that type of love must be lying.

“No, I feel like we’re both focused on our own lives… We just happen to also be in a marriage together.”

“That doesn’t seem like an active partnership,” Nanami responds as he searches your face thoughtfully. He can feel his heart ache for you. This is by far his least favorite presenting problem to work with because he can’t just tell you that you need to leave your husband. All he can do is inspire you to seek the changes you need. “What are you focused on in your own life right now, y/n?”

You feel the tension set in your shoulders and neck as soon as you hear that question. Just thinking about what all you have to do is enough to stress you out. “For starters, I work full-time. It’s a standard corporate job from eight to five, but it can be a lot.”

“That’s not easy, y/n. Just because that is what’s considered to be standard, doesn’t mean it’s easy. I’m sure that’s a lot on your plate.” His voice was low and calm. His presence felt so warm in the room; you feel like you’re finally able to open up a little.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right. I also take care of the house and our pets.”

“The housework… is that all your responsibility?” Nanami asks as his eyebrows knit together slightly. He feels like he’s already scratching the surface of why you don’t have any sex drive.

“Yeah. If I want him to do anything, I have to delegate the work to him. My husband always says to just tell him whenever I want something done, and I should be grateful that he’s willing to help—“

Nanami couldn’t help himself. He doesn’t like to interrupt clients often, but the more you talk about tour husband, the more he’s having to hold himself back. “That’s the bare minimum.”

You’re slightly taken aback, and you look away from Nanami. A part of you knows that he’s right, but… you didn’t want to bad mouth your husband. A large boulder of guilt settled into your stomach.

“Tell me what you’re feeling right now,” Nanami’s voice returns to that gentle tone. “That probably wasn’t appropriate for me to say. I apologize.” He knows he shouldn’t have said that, and he knows he has to appropriately handle this if he wants you to feel comfortable enough to open up again.

“I guess I just… It feels wrong talking negative about my husband to another man. It just feels different when I’m ranting with my girl friends.” You straighten your posture and take a deep breath. It feels good getting that out in the open.

Nanami slowly nods his head. He can see why you view that act as troublesome. “So, you’re feeling tense because of our opposing sexes? Tell me. Does your husband know where you are right now?”

“Well, yeah… He was honestly the one who told me I needed help since I don’t feel any sort of sex drive.”

Nanami’s teeth subtly clench together, but he keeps a stoic expression as best as he can. The thought of your husband claiming that there’s something wrong with you absolutely repulses Nanami.

“How does that make you feel?”

Your fingers twitch a bit as you look down to the ground. You should be honest with Nanami if you really want the help that you came here for.

“I guess it makes me feel like I’m not good enough for him. Every time we have sex I try to cater to him, but it just feels like it’s never enough. If he had it his way, we’d probably have sex everyday, but I just don’t have that kind of time, energy, or desire.”

Nanami feels his chest tighten while he listens to you. This is why he hated working with this presenting problem. This man is ruining your confidence and self-esteem, and your low sex drive is either completely natural or it’s because of him.

If Nanami could show you what it was like to be truly loved, he would. Then, you’d probably open your eyes and see that your husband is the one who isn’t good enough for you.

He shakes those thoughts out of his head. He knows he’s bound to a code of ethics. He can’t pursue you romantically or sexually. It’d be morally wrong.

“That’s heavy.” He nods, allowing silence for reflection. He then speaks up again after a pregnant pause, “Let’s break down what you said sentence by sentence, okay? First, you have said that you feel guilty and not good enough in terms of sex.”

You slowly nod, still avoiding eye contact with Nanami. Why didn’t anyone tell you that this would be so emotionally exhausting.

“Do you put a lot of pressure on yourself to perform?”

That question alone opened up the floodgates. Tears bit into your eyes, and you covered your face with your hands. “All the time,” your voice cracked, betraying how deep this affected you.

“Oh dear,” Nanami says softly. He grabs a box of tissues, and he hands them to you. “Sex is meant to feel natural and progressive. It’s understandable that you don’t feel any drive if you’re constantly pressuring yourself.”

You nod as you take the tissues, dabbing your eyes gently.

“I just,” you let out a deep shaky breath, trying to calm your nervous system. “It’s easier to just do it and get it over with rather than to hear him ask multiple times.”

Nanami clenches his jaw. His hand gently finds your shoulder, and he makes you look up at him. “Listen to me. If you take nothing else away from this entire session, take this. Asking multiple times even though the answer was clearly a no is coercion. Whenever he asks multiple times, he’s hoping that you get tired of telling him no and just give in.”

Your eyes meet Nanami’s, and your eyebrows furrow a little. Coercion? No.. no, that can’t be right. He’s your husband. He’s just asking to make sure you hadn’t changed your mind. He wouldn’t coerce you into anything you didn’t want to do…

You slightly pull away from Nanami. “I don’t think that’s right… He wouldn’t do something like that. He’s not abusive.”

Nanami leans back. He chides himself internally for going in too deep too quickly. He’s grateful that you’re giving him grace right now. You definitely could’ve just left the session after he blatantly told you that your husband was a conniving piece of shit.

He takes a deep breath. “I apologize. I must have it wrong,” he says as he regains his posture. He knows he needs to make you understand. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

“Oh—? Uh, no.. no I’m okay, thanks.”

“Are you sure? It’s good tea.” Nanami leans in slightly, not breaking eye contact with you.

“Yeah, I’m sure… I don’t really think I can stomach it..” you respond, confused as to why he was suddenly wanting to make you tea.

“Tea is good for digestion. It might help your stomach. You really don’t want any? I can make it quickly with an electric kettle I bought the other day.”

You slouch back a little, a frown covering your lips. “I mean.. I guess tea would be okay.”

Nanami then gives you a knowing look, and the realization hits you. “Did you actually want the tea, or were you just going to accept the tea because I kept pestering you?”

Goddammit. This therapist is good.

Taglist: @theuniversesnepobaby @airandyeah

[kaiijo]

ok. bllk and jealousy rate. how jealous can they get over their gf and what do they do to cope lmao

HOW JEALOUS IS HE? — [BLUE LOCK]

characters: isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, itoshi rin, itoshi sae, kunigami rensuke, nagi seishiro, mikage reo, oliver aiku content: gn! reader (request says gf but reader is gender neutral) notes: some of these are lowkey toxic, minor spoilers for kunigami’s character arc, nagi is taller than reader

most jealous: bachira, rin, reo 

bachira meguru ✶

bachira has many, many insecurities. growing up isolated and without many friends, he is more possessive of those he’s close to, which obviously includes you. he just doesn’t want to lose you, which manifests itself in jealousy over anyone he perceives as a threat to your relationship

bachira gets really clingy when he’s jealous. he thinks that inserting himself into the situation, sometimes literally wedging himself between you and the other person. he usually chooses to drape himself over you, nuzzling into your neck and speaking low enough that only you hear, trying his best to divert your attention. third-wheeling is pretty uncomfortable for the other person, especially with the smiling sneer bachira’s shooting at them, so they make a quick irish exit 

itoshi rin ✶

an egoist to his very core, rin can get very jealous. while he’s very sure of himself in nearly every other part of his life, he knows that he is not an ideal partner a lot of the time, though he’ll never admit it. he’s not the most expressive or the most patient, and he’s sure that there are better partners for you out there. 

when rin’s jealous, it’s a silent but deadly thing. like when he’s locked in on the ball in a game, his focus you and his ‘competitor’ is unwavering. he stalks over to stand behind you, his chest bumping right up against your back, and he snarls, “what the hell do you want, you mediocrity?” usually the other person backs off after seeing rin’s bone-chilling glare but if they’re bold enough to answer back, rin bares his teeth and is poised to strike. it’s probably best if you diffuse the situation quickly before it gets uglier  

mikage reo ✶

we already know how jealous reo was over nagi so it’s safe to say that he’s definitely very jealous. having been bored with the world and other people for so long, he’s thrilled when you two get together. it makes his very protective of you and he wants to be one of the most, if not the most, special person in your life. 

reo can go a couple of ways when he feels jealous over someone else but it think his primary response is to tear down the person methodically. he tilts his head a little, looks the person up and down, and notes everything about their appearance — hair, skin, clothes (including brand and cost) and criticizes every little thing. it’s a strategic move in his opinion, using observational skills and knowledge he had given his upbringing to pick apart the other person. he also might make some underhanded comment that includes that he has a black card 

less jealous: isagi, kunigami, sae 

isagi yoichi ✶

he definitely gets jealous from time to time but he doesn’t feel the need to act on it a lot. he’s pretty mature and for the most part level-headed (plus his ability to piece together future events helps him keep his cool a lot). this doesn’t mean that he isn’t jealous 

when isagi is jealous, he’s sulky. he won’t take immediate action and watch from afar, arms crossed and a little pouty. he tries to look as dejected and as ‘wet-cat pathetic’ as possible to make you feel bad and come over to comfort him. when you inevitably do, looping your arm through his and kissing his cheek, he can’t help but smirk at the other person like a cat who go the cream 

kunigami rensuke ✶

i debated where to put kunigami since there are ‘two sides’ to him — pre- and post-wildcard. pre-wild card kunigami is definitely a lot less bothered; he trusts you 100% and is 100% confident and secure in your relationship and himself. post-wild card kunigami is less chill and more forceful. he’s not a hero anymore but even as he plays a more ‘villainous’ role in soccer, he won’t cross that line in your relationship. he’s still very secure in you and himself, but he’s more protective of your relationship. definitely a ‘i trust you/us but it’s other people i’m worried about’ kind of guy

when pre-wild card kunigami got jealous, he won’t act in the moment and will talk to you about it afterwards, in a private setting. open lines of communication were important to him and working out problems like this. post-wildcard kunigami is all stormy looks and intimidation. like rin, he also stands behind you but in less actively aggressive way and more just to be threatening. it’s 95% effective and the 5% of times it doesn’t work, kunigami is not above muscling the other person away 

itoshi sae ✶

i thought about putting sae in the ‘most jealous’ section but i just think that he is someone whose jealousy simmer just beneath his apathetic surface. he sees most other people as beneath him and believes that they are not worthy of speaking to you, let alone hitting on you, but because he’s sees them as so beneath him, he can’t be bothered half the time to do anything since they’re simply not worth it. he gets the most jealous when it’s people who he can potentially view as equals, like other professional athletes 

when he’s jealous, sae literally just pretends they don’t exist, only talking to you. if the other person tries to interject, he sends them a sideways glare — the only acknowledgment of their existence — and then turns away to continue whatever conversation, suggesting that you both get away from the other person as quickly as possible. if ignoring the person doesn’t work, sae doesn’t shy away from spewing vitriol at the other person

least jealous: nagi, oliver, michael

nagi seishiro ✶

simply put, being jealous is a hassle to nagi. it makes him too hot and too annoyed for him to want to feel it so he suppresses the feeling a lot. nagi’s height is already intimidating enough for most people so they don’t approach you when they see you two together but that isn’t a deterrent to everyone

when nagi gets jealous, he does one of two things: just gives a thousand-yard stare that freaks people out or he gets whiny and clingy. his stare is eerie and silent, and the lightness of his eyes doesn’t help it. he towers over you like some cryptid companion. when he gets whiny and clingy, nagi tugs at your sleeve and asks drily, “can we go yet? why are you still talking to them?”

oliver aiku ✶

sigh… oliver is undoubtedly someone who thinks and knows he’s the shit. with so many women and men alike fawning over everything about him, his ego is through the roof. he has very little worry about you leaving him for someone else. honestly, he finds it amusing most of the time when someone attempt to draw you away from him, and let’s it play out a lot for his own entertainment. of course, he’ll intervene if it’s making you uncomfortable but he also believes you can handle yourself 

when oliver gets jealous, he acts as casual as possible. he’s friendly towards the other person and but it’s not hard to uncover that it’s all fake, whether it’s from the glint in his eye or the way his smile is stiff and forced. common tells when he gets jealous is that he pokes his tongue against the inside of his cheek or he clenches his teeth and inhales softly but sharply.  he employs the good old tactic of calling the other person the wrong name and making all kind of underhanded comments that slowly chip at their nerves. (“haruya? haruki? oh! you’re haruto! right, right, you know, they’ve never mentioned you before! crazy, huh?”) 

michael kaiser ✶

kaiser in german literally means ‘emperor,’ and it’s no secret that kaiser views himself as one. similar to sae, he see himself as so above others that he’s not even bothered by other people hitting on you. it displeases him greatly, sure, but these cockroaches will never be able to steal you from him so why should an emperor deal with the plebians? the only time that ever happens is when a peasant is particularly forceful and then, kaiser intervenes

when he gets jealous, kaiser puts on a show. if there’s one thing about him, he’s a bit of a drama queen. he will absolutely posture and puff out his chest at the offending person, looking down his nose arrogantly and smirking. he makes a big display of wrapping himself around you, gripping firmly at your hips and saying, “liebling, you’re very charitable to entertain this insect, but it’s time to end this ruse.”

[rmview]

saying they want to break up during a fight, SKZ.

featuring — stray kids members x gn!reader ( masterlist )

summary — a reaction of what happens when the stray kids boys impulsively say they want to break up during a fight!

contents — angst, fighting, some tears, reconciliation.

bang ☆ chan

fights with bang chan weren’t common, but when they happened, they hit hard. his naturally calm and rational demeanor made it rare for him to lose his temper, but tonight was different. the stress of balancing his responsibilities, combined with your ongoing disagreement, pushed him to the edge.

“you always think i’m not doing enough!” he shouted, his voice cracking under the weight of frustration. “i’m doing everything i can, and it’s still not enough for you!”

“that’s not what i said, chan,” you retorted, equally exasperated. “i just need you to make time for us — just once without your work taking over.”

his jaw tightened as he ran a hand through his hair, his usual composure unraveling. “maybe we’re not right for each other,” he said, the words tumbling out before he could stop them. “maybe we should just… break up.”

the silence that followed was deafening. bangchan’s eyes widened, and his expression immediately softened as he realized what he’d just said. “wait — no. that’s not what i meant,” he stammered, his voice trembling.

you took a shaky breath, stepping back. “you said it, chan. if that’s how you feel…”

“no, please,” he interrupted, his voice pleading. he reached for your hand, but you pulled away. “i didn’t mean it. i swear, i didn’t mean it. i’m just… i’m tired and overwhelmed, but that’s not an excuse. please, don’t leave.”

tears welled up in his eyes as he stepped closer, desperate to fix what he’d just shattered. “you’re the most important thing in my life,” he said, his voice breaking. “i’ll do better. i’ll make time — i promise. just… don’t walk away.”

felix ☆

felix hated confrontation. he was always the one to diffuse tension, his warm smiles and soothing words calming any storm. but tonight, the argument spiraled beyond his control.

“why do you always think the worst of me?” he asked, his usually soft voice laced with hurt. “i’m trying my best, but it’s like you don’t trust me.”

“it’s not about trust, felix,” you shot back, your voice rising. “it’s about feeling like i’m not a priority!”

his frustration bubbled over, and before he could think, he blurted out, “maybe we shouldn’t do this anymore. maybe we should just break up.”

the words hung in the air like a punch to the gut. felix’s freckles seemed to pale as the weight of what he’d said hit him. “no, wait,” he said quickly, his voice trembling. “i didn’t mean that. i didn’t mean that at all.”

you stood frozen, your heart aching. “how could you say that, felix?”

tears brimmed in his eyes as he stepped closer, his hands shaking. “i’m sorry,” he whispered. “i was angry, and i wasn’t thinking. you mean everything to me, and the thought of losing you —” his voice cracked. “please, don’t leave. i’ll do whatever it takes to make this right.”

lee ☆ know

lee know was known for his sharp tongue, but he rarely let his emotions get the best of him. tonight was an exception.

“you never understand my side!” he snapped, his voice colder than usual. “you always make it about you.”

“that’s not fair, minho,” you replied, your voice quivering. “i just want us to communicate better.”

“maybe we shouldn’t communicate at all,” he shot back, the words cutting like a blade. “maybe we should just end this.”

the moment the words left his mouth, regret washed over him. his face fell, and his usually stoic demeanor cracked. “wait,” he said softly, his voice laced with panic. “that’s not what i meant.”

you stared at him, hurt evident in your eyes. “minho…”

“i was angry,” he admitted, his tone desperate. “i didn’t think before i spoke. i don’t want this to end. i don’t want to lose you.”

he reached out tentatively, his eyes searching yours. “i’m sorry,” he murmured. “i know i hurt you, but please give me a chance to fix this. i’ll prove to you that you mean more to me than my pride ever could.”

hyun ☆ jin

hyunjin’s emotions always ran high, and tonight, they overwhelmed him completely.

“you don’t understand what it’s like to be me!” he yelled, tears streaming down his face. “i’m constantly trying to be perfect, and it’s never enough — not for you, not for anyone!”

“i never said you had to be perfect, hyunjin,” you replied, your voice trembling. “i just want you to let me in!”

“maybe it’s better if we’re not together,” he snapped, his voice breaking. “maybe i can’t give you what you need.”

the silence that followed was suffocating. hyunjin’s chest heaved as he realized what he’d just said. “no,” he whispered, shaking his head. “that’s not true. i didn’t mean that.”

tears welled in your eyes as you took a step back. “hyunjin, you can’t just say things like that.”

“i know,” he said, his voice cracking as he stepped closer. “i’m sorry. i was scared and angry, but i don’t want to lose you. you’re the one thing that makes me feel like i’m enough.”

hyunjin fell to his knees, his hands trembling as he clutched yours. “please don’t go,” he begged, tears streaming down his face. “i’ll do whatever it takes to fix this. just… don’t leave me.”

i.n ☆

jeongin wasn’t someone who fought often, but when he did, it was because something had truly gotten under his skin. tonight was one of those nights. the argument had started small, but it escalated quickly.

“you’re always treating me like i’m a kid,” jeongin snapped, his voice louder than usual. “like i don’t know what i’m doing or how i feel.”

“that’s not what i’m doing,” you countered, frustration evident in your tone. “i just worry about you, jeongin. is that so bad?”

“well, maybe i don’t need you to worry about me!” he shouted back. then, in a moment of blind frustration, he added, “maybe we shouldn’t even be together if you don’t trust me to take care of myself.”

as soon as the words left his mouth, regret hit him like a wave. his eyes widened, and he looked at you as if he wanted to take it all back. “wait, no,” he stammered, his voice softer now. “i didn’t mean that. i… i don’t want that.”

your expression faltered, hurt flashing across your face. “jeongin…”

he stepped closer, his hands trembling as he reached for yours. “i’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “i didn’t mean it. i was angry, and i said something stupid. please don’t take it seriously. you mean so much to me, and i can’t lose you.”

tears welled up in his eyes as he looked at you, desperate to fix the mess he’d created. “i’ll do better,” he promised, his voice barely above a whisper. “just don’t leave.”

han ☆

han’s emotions always bubbled just beneath the surface, and when he was upset, it showed in every word and expression. tonight, his frustration boiled over in a way he hadn’t intended.

“you don’t get it!” he yelled, pacing back and forth. “you don’t understand what it’s like to feel like you’re never enough!”

“jisung, i’m just trying to talk to you,” you said, your voice shaky. “why are you shutting me out?”

“because i don’t know how to talk about this!” he shouted back, his voice cracking. “maybe… maybe it’d be better if we weren’t together. maybe then you wouldn’t have to deal with me.”

the second the words left his mouth, he froze. his hands dropped to his sides, and he looked at you with wide, tear-filled eyes. “no,” he whispered, shaking his head. “that’s not what i meant. i didn’t mean that at all.”

you stared at him, hurt and disbelief written all over your face. “how can you say that, jisung?”

he stepped closer, his voice trembling. “i’m sorry,” he said, tears streaming down his cheeks. “i was scared, and i let my fear get the best of me. i don’t want to lose you. you’re the only person who makes me feel like i’m enough, even when i don’t believe it myself.”

seung ☆ min

seungmin was usually calm and level-headed, but even he had his limits. tonight, the argument had pushed him to a place he rarely went.

“why do you always think i’m the bad guy?” he snapped, his voice sharp. “i’m doing my best, but it’s never enough for you.”

“that’s not fair, seungmin,” you replied, your tone frustrated. “i just want us to communicate better.”

“maybe we shouldn’t communicate at all,” he said coldly. “maybe we should just end this.”

the second the words left his mouth, his heart sank. he saw the look of hurt on your face, and regret washed over him. “wait,” he said quickly, his voice softer now. “i didn’t mean that.”

you took a shaky breath, stepping back. “seungmin, you can’t just say things like that.”

he nodded, his expression filled with guilt. “i know. i’m sorry,” he said, his voice trembling. “i was angry, and i wasn’t thinking. please don’t take it seriously. i don’t want this to end. you’re… everything to me.”

chang ☆ bin

changbin’s temper was quick, but so was his regret. tonight, his frustration boiled over in a way he couldn’t control.

“why do you always have to push me?” he snapped, his voice rising. “can’t you just let me be for once?”

“i’m not pushing you, changbin,” you replied, hurt evident in your tone. “i just want to talk about what’s bothering you.”

“maybe we shouldn’t talk at all,” he shot back, his voice colder than usual. “maybe we should just end this.”

as soon as the words left his mouth, regret hit him like a truck. he froze, his eyes wide with realization. “wait,” he said quickly, his voice shaking. “no, i didn’t mean that.”

you stared at him, tears welling in your eyes. “how could you say that, changbin?”

“i’m sorry,” he said, stepping closer. his voice was softer now, filled with guilt. “i didn’t mean it. i was angry, and i wasn’t thinking. please don’t walk away. you mean everything to me, and i’ll do whatever it takes to fix this.”

notes: i don’t like redoing the same prompt, but angst is fun, so enjoy!

[strawberrystepmom]

nsfw. dante x f!reader. cw: size kink, blow job, very light somno. established relationship. all the ways he likes to cum in, on, and around you told through little vignettes. | wc 1.8k, reading time: greater than 5 minutes.

around

2 AM.

Even the city is sleeping outside yet inside your bed, calamity looms.

Dante is too horny to sleep yet too sweet to wake you. His dick has been painfully straining against the front of his boxers for what feels like hours and the pretty little thing next to him breathes softly, chest rising and falling as delicately as ever.

He thought at first that watching you might eventually lull him to sleep, counting your breaths and the twitches of your eyelids, yet it has only made his condition worse. A wet patch rests just outside where the head of him pushes against his boxers.

You smack your lips together, brows furrowing slightly while you writhe across blankets and sheets into a shape that presses your ass against the cradle of hips, his painfully hard cock standing proudly between the cleft of your cotton panty covered cheeks.

This is a terrible situation. On one hand he can ignore the way he throbs, an ache spreading from his cock to his stomach and constricting his throat that is driven by pure need.

But on the other hand, he can let you rest and handle this himself. He can keep quiet and polite, right?

One of his hands sails beneath the waistband of his boxers, the elastic resting over his wrist while he palms himself and buries his face in your hair to silence the sharp hiss that leaves him.

Okay…maybe he can’t be quiet. But he’ll stay at least muffled this way, right? Peppering the top of your head with sweet kisses while his fingers make a fist around the heat of his shaft, an experimental drag of his calloused palm over his skin making him shudder against your back.

You writhe again, ass settled even closer against him now. Dante’s knuckles press into the curve of your cheeks, his face heating while he makes another shallow pass up and down his length.

“You don’t haveta stop…”

Your sleepy voice, raspy and breathy, captures his attention. Big eyes look up at him, a little smaller than usual from sleep, but he meets them nonetheless.

“No?” He asks though he already knows the answer, squeezing himself to diffuse the growing pressure inside of him at least momentarily.

You shake your head and turn it slightly with a lazy smile, eyes moving from his scruffy face to lower where he makes another pass over his cock. He moans into your hair. You arch your back even more, your head lolling against his shoulder and settling into the side of his neck, just below his ear. It’s an awkward vantage point but you can still see every move he makes, his big hand tenting the fabric with every pleasurable stroke.

“Does that feel good?” Your sweet voice croons, lips falling to his neck to kiss it softly. He hums his response, busy fucking his own fist over the thought and sound and feel of you.

His favorite person, his best friend, the subject of all of his dreams and the object of all of his desires. You.

A dream made real. How? It isn’t up to him to figure it out, only to happily ride alongside you until the truth comes out.

“Love watching you do that, Dante.”

The way you say his name draws a moan, throaty and bold. His head is thrown back and exposes his neck to you, a gift you take advantage of by nibbling at it. You toss a hand over your side, wrapping it over his boxers and around his tightly clenched fist.

“Fuck.”

You giggle at his use of the expletive, kissing his throat and inhaling the musky scent of him. Your own head swims a bit but you urge yourself to calm down, knowing morning comes very soon and you’re far more patient than your beloved when it comes to that sort of thing.

Sometimes.

Wordlessly, he groans and cums, painting his knuckles white with his pent up need and desire for his girl. You squeeze his fist and then pull it away, allowing him to free his hand from his boxers and offer it to you. His fingers brush against your mouth and you accept them, popping the digits inside one by one to clean them thoroughly.

“Sorry,” he mutters against the top of your head, pulling his thumb from between your smiling lips.

Before he can even shift to get more comfortable, your soft breathing resumes, head resting on his chest.

“Love you.”

He whispers the words against your hair, hoping you’ll hear him even in your sweet dreams.

—————

on

“Everyone was watching us, you know.”

You look up at him, brows raised and corners of your mouth upturning slightly despite the obscene position it seems to have found itself in.

Moans and whimpers leave your throat as you swallow him down to the base and back up again.

He’s discussing the little club you sometimes drag him to, where you were before you ended up on your knees in the entryway to your apartment with Dante’s pants just below his hips. You were practically dripping leaving the club, he made it worse on the way home by whispering filthy promises in your ear, and as soon as the door opened you couldn’t take it anymore.

You had to taste him. Now you’ve been at it for enough time that he’s sticky with drool from his pelvis to his balls, your gaze always kept upward to feast on the pleasure you’ve brought him.

“Saw your eyes light up when I said that,” he chuckles, exhaling sharply when you take another inch of him deep behind your soft palate. His belt buckle jingles and mixes with the sloppy sound of your spit and his precum.

“You like it when people watch us, huh dirty girl?”

Humming in agreement, your throat and tongue vibrate around his shaft, punching a throaty moan out of him. His head falls back against the wall, one hand pushing through your hair and settling on the back of your head.

Without warning, you pop the seal of your lips stretched around him and look up with a grin. Your hands easily find a home around him to replace your mouth, fingers wrapping around his girth but not meeting in the middle. You begin pumping his slick cock, cheek resting against his pelvis.

“I like it when people imagine us doing this.” You’re goad, biting your lower lip naughtily. “What we look like, how we taste.”

He knows exactly what you’re doing, fingers tightening on the back of your head. This is the wind up before you really commit to making the final leg spectacular.

“And I’m sure they do.” Dante goads right back, lower lip making its way between his teeth so he can quiet the hiss that tells you how nearly done for he is.

He knows they do. Curious onlookers watch his hands slide up your skirt while the two of you grind and twirl and dance in a world all your making, intrigued by two people so lost in each other they’re traversing the map of the other’s mouth with their tongues surrounded by a throng of sweaty, gyrating strangers.

Speaking of tongues, yours lolls out of your mouth, clearly lonely after a few seconds spent talking and not laving across his salty flesh. You drag the tip of it across the sticky head of his cock, eyes fluttering shut in response when you taste him.

His entire body tenses in response.

You open your eyes, staring up at him with lazy, slow blinks. Your hands move so fast they’re practically a blur and your tongue toys with his frenulum endlessly, his fingers now clutching the back of your head tightly. Not enough to hurt but firm enough to tell you he’s.

“Fuck, fuck, I…”

He cannot get the words out quick enough. Thankfully you could tell, angling his shaft downward and allowing him the gift of watching thick ropes of his cum paint your partially exposed tits, leaving a translucent shine across your skin.

Dante’s chest heaves, back flat against the wall, and the hand that gripped the back of your head just moments prior now gently massages it.

“Was that alright?” You ask, cheek still pressed against him, eyes expectant.

He smiles down at you, deciding halfway to cut the bullshit and help you up instead, cupping your face while kissing you very nearly stupid.

————-

in

“Insi— fuck, Dante,” you hiss, back arching and pressing your chest against his which dwarfs you in comparison to its width. His hands slide into the dip of your waist, holding you arched at the angle your body naturally assumed in the throes of pleasure he’s provided.

”What was that?” He thrusts again, a wicked smirk crossing a handsomely full mouth. So arrogant for someone who nearly lost himself at the sound of your voice.

Your body jiggles tantalizingly with the motion, his hips rocking in and at a pace he is setting and keeping. Your hips weakly cant upward to meet him but you’re basically his to enjoy at this angle with his grip so firmly in place.

“Got—shit, don’t clench around me like that…gotta tell me, gorgeous.” He manages through gritted teeth, head hanging so low above yours that his hair tickles your face. “Where do you want me?”

You reach up to clutch his cheek with your clammy palm, brows pinched in pleasure, body feverish. That pretty bottom lip of yours is glossy with saliva amongst other things and he feels himself slipping further away, balls tensing and drawing close to his body as his release nears.

The touch of your soft palm isn’t helping matters. Dante drops his head and lets his forehead rest against yours, tips of your noses kissing while he continues his pace.

“Inside,” you bark out, frantic and impolite, before swallowing a whine and remembering your manners. “Please come inside me.”

Not that you’d have to ask him so kindly yet it does the trick, his eyes rolling back into his head while he thrusts into you as hard as he knows you like. Your legs instinctively close, the strength of your orgasm making the muscles in your thighs tense and spasm, framing each of his sides. The thrusts that rocked you become more shallow with each passing second, the unmistakable schlicking sound of both of your releases down his shaft mixing with your heavy breathing and his grunts.

Lips meet lips, his hands still holding you angled upward but slowly loosening their grip and helping you down flat to the bed beneath you. He softens a bit inside of you, still unbelievably turned on but spent after this performance, his thick release slowly oozing out of where you’re joined.

Part of you wishes you never had to leave this. The afterglow; his sweat and yours, breaths and hearts mingling. You could spend all day wrapped up in him, thigh to hip and chest to chest and face to face.

He’s made a regularly selfless woman extremely greedy. You hope he’ll never hold it against you.

“I love you.”

You say it breathlessly, a gossamer sigh instead of the grand declaration it is, yet it’s all the same to him when it’s mumbled while hanging from Dante’s lips.

Breath stolen from him, unable to speak, he chooses to kiss you until you’re both dizzy.

It says all you need to know.