Surname? That IS Your Name, Sir 🤨🤨

jealousy jealousy!

when hes just a little (very) jealous of someone else

bllk boys (nagi, rin, reo) x reader: insecurities, fluff!!!!!!!, established r/s except for rin (but you two get into one by the end!), nagis part was deleted and rewritten TT, not proof read + likes n reblog r appreciated <3

nagi seishiro:

“eh… you cleared this level already…? i thought you were struggling with it..?” nagi’s voice muffled against the pile of blankets his face was smushed in, looking up at you confusedly from your phone, displaying the game level cleared.

its not that he doesnt believe you cleared it all by yourself, if anything youre pretty good at this game despite only playing it for him. its simply because you were complaining on call with him about it, and all of the sudden youve finished it? he doesnt quite believe it, hes gone through that level too and he knows its pretty challenging, taking a little more energy than it really should have even for nagi himself.

“ah.. my seatmate cleared it for me this morning when he saw me playing it!” its strange: your bright voice always wakes him up a little, bringing light into his otherwise dull and boring life. yet this time, he feels his heart pang a little.

its troublesome. he doesnt like feeling this way: his heart tightens at your words, he unconsciously grips your phone a little, only realising when the screen protector cuts him a little, and he feels as though hes getting all fired up strangely the same way he gets on the field. if anything, nagi doesnt even know who this mysterious seat partner is, and he sure doesnt want to know: its troublesome to socialise with others after all. and yet, if there’s anything he’s now set on doing as though his life depends on it, as though your relationship with him depends on it, as though his ego depends completely on this: he wants to confront this guy and challenge him in an actual game competition. he knows he’ll win, he has spent his entire life in bed playing mobile game or spending late hours of the night on grinding back to immortal on different variety of games from valorant to league of legends to overwatch. he’s covered his grounds he thinks, that maybe all those time wasn’t wasted at all other than the fact that you weren’t with him during those time: lending him your lap to lie down on when he plays his switch or phone, lending him your support when you sit on his lap on his chair squirming to keep it a challenge to win and carry his team still, even more lending him your accounts when he plays with you, helping carry you in any game you want or even just building your islands together on animal crossing or minecraft on more chill days.

nagi doesn’t get it - really, its the same ego that drives him in football, not wanting to lose. his eyes flicker with sudden fire and intensity that only burns whenever he plays games with you: whether that be when you die in a pvp game and him immediately straightening his back to avenge you, earning aces for rounds straight until the screen flashes with victory, or when someone talks bad about you in the voice channel and is immediately reacted with nagi’s voice that defends your honour as if he’s your knight in shining armour, or even simply the way his hands click on the mouse quickly whenever he sees a zombie go near you in the dark cave whilst playing something as chill as minecraft. if anything, nagi think it might just apply to real life too: his hands tugging at yours as though on instinct in record speed when you trip on another branch to prevent you from falling, his glare at others whenever they bother you too much that is visible through the awkward smile you give and your hands finding its way to fiddle with his shirt.

and the same ego is clear to him now: he doesn’t want anyone else to be yours, he wants to be the only one to help you. selfish maybe, but he’ll deliver - the way he tracks your figure in the map from valorant to minecraft to even genshin, the way he fights to protect you from the enemies, his hands animatedly clicking at his mouse and the other navigating his keyboard all at the same time in order to garner the best and most successful result that he knows will get you to smile oh so brightly that makes his heart pound, or even the way he charges his old switch just to help you play animal crossing on his own account, maintaining your village and neglecting his all to make a cute little house for you inspired by your pinterest board even though it takes him all night.

and to you, its clear: he’s upset at what you’ve done with the way he deflates even more than he already is. and it clicks. a routine and cycle you’ve unintentionally broken - you complaining about a level or rank you can’t get out of, he’ll listen and ask you about it the next day when youre back at his house, and he’ll fix it just as he always down: an unspoken agreement really.

“sorry sei… i still can’t clear the next level.. help me seiiii…” and suddenly he’s back lying right on your pillowy thighs: the way his eyes that was just seconds ago filled with intensity that you think simply doesn’t fit his face closes with comfort as you massage his scalp again with his fingers, the way his face smushes against your thighs comfortably rather than the weird feeling of him hovering on your thigh as though he wanted to get up, the way his hands no longer grip your phone tightly and instead holds your hand, fitting it right in perfectly.

“kay… its not bothersome with you..” he says, a confession of love from himself. he’ll never find it annoying if its you: he thinks he would play the dinosaur game from having no internet for hours on end if you liked watching him play it, he thinks he’d fight against the same boss for even days straight if you said you needed the materials for it for your character, and he knows he will most definitely help you finish any level you can’t. and something he wont say, a quiet confession springs in his mind: he loves you and most definitely he loves to play for you. and based on you willingly passing him your phone, maybe, just maybe, he wont give in to his impulses and actually find that guy - only shooting daggers at him that sends a shiver down his spine when he waits outside your class for you to release after school.

rin itoshi:

its not the first time rin felt this pang in his chest: he felt it when his older brother kicks the ball to any other member of the football team to shoot for the goal, he felt it when his teammates seems to be able to shoot he ball even more accurately than he does, he felt it when his brother praised yoichi instead of him. he’s always regarded that feeling as something football related: he’s never felt too much emotions outside of his passion and hobbies either way - but lately, he thinks he feels it a lot whenever he’s with you. perhaps, the seed from before blue lock has started blooming: the day you boarded the bus with him to the facility that was hours away from yours and his house that made his cheeks stain with pink as he sits right beside you, eating the filling breakfast you made for him, beaming at him so brightly as you wave him goodbye that makes him hesitate for the first time in his life.

and right now, he doesn’t get it. its not like there’s a lack of chocolates at his desk, if anything its quite the opposite. there’s practically a mountain of chocolates of different variety that would surely fulfill his secret sweet tooth - from dark chocolate in a heart shape mold bought from a fancy shop, from milk chocolates in squares sprinkled with heart shaped sweet bits on top, or even strawberries dipped in white chocolate. and yet, if looks could kill, that guy who’s holding YOUR chocolate box would have died, guts spilled right on the classroom door like those cliche horror games he plays. rin doesn’t get it: its not as if youre close witht that guy,youre his seat partner for all the years you’ve spent together since kindergarten, and he’s sure that that guys no one special right? and its out of character when rin thinks harder about a nobody in his class: do you like band kids like that lame guy? (he did learn the guitar for fun when he was younger, should bring it out from under his bed again?) do you like guys who are a little better at math? (maybe he should study for this weeks math quiz he thinks) or do you like guys who have leadership roles? (he’ll ask to be captain of the football team, its obvious anyways, he’s the best in this dull football club in his school)

usually, when he feels this same pang in his chest, he ignores it, keep mum about it and just work harder instead until the glass shards leave his heart - and yet he can’t do that strangely despite the routine between you two staying: where you and him sit together at the back of the class, playing your phone at the back oops the class unbeknownst to the teacher, giggling and whispering about whatever, your feet kicking his occasionally from the lack of distance that makes his face a little pink. yet, here he is eyeing that last chocolate underneath your table, its unlike the others he noted - unlike the mini chocolate cup you passed to that guy who he wishes to punch simply because of the smug smirk that was plastered on his face, unlike the small chocolate bars you presented to the other girls in the class, and even more special definitely from the chocolate candies you sneak into both his and yours mouth during class. its heart-shaped, reminiscent of the other chocolate now angrily thrown into one plastic bag that he plans to eat whilst crying about this the second he reaches home, a ribbon tied messily clearly with much effort too, and even pasted mini heart papers.

and its not until recess when youre alone with rin in class as per routine, everyone leaving for lunch does he do something about it for the first time in his life about this nagging and tugging feeling that makes him feel like a little kid again. and it just might have been the universe way of telling the two of you how connected you two are: as you struggle to find the courage to give him the slightly burnt chocolate brownies inside the heart shaped box.

“i.. like you.” “f-for you rin..!”

its simultaneous, at the exact same time, where the clock struck 1:00pm.

the confession he’s kept all these years, since the first day he’s met you at kindergarten where you two practically were fixed at the hips ever since: seat partners since primary school all the way up until now where youre both now seventeen and about to go to university and him to become a professional football player soon. ten years - ten years of looking at you as if he’s so far away when youre with anyone but him as he feels the friendship bracelet around his wrist for reassurance, ten years of writing confession letters after confession letters and poetries only to rip them all apart, yelling into his pillow and kicking his feet like a maiden in love, ten years of looking at you pass chocolates every single time during valentines except to him. its unlike rin, he’s never been good at expressing himself, believing in action over words - the way he carries your files and extra bags after school, the way he always listens and remembers what you say and even buy things you’ve mentioned offhandedly with his own pocket money, the way he never hesitates to carry you back home even when his leg is all jelly from football practice that he doesn’t tell you.

and its the same for you. the valentine gift you’ve made for him all these years: spanning from chocolate chip cookies you’ve made, to macrons you bought for him from his favourite bakery, or even his favourite blueberry pie your mother bought you - and yet all left underneath the table, secretly placed back in your bag for you to eat it whilst crying about your cowardice. and you hate it: these ten years of watching him carry a plastic bag full of physical confessions without any interest, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth even when youre staying over and opening a pack of these chocolates when you’re hungry, these ten years of looking bitterly at the friendship bracelet that is nothing more than a bitter reminder of how you’ll never be more because of your own cowardice, these ten years of looking at rin accept everyone’s chocolates but yours.

and for the first time in years, rin thinks it’s just right - when he places his lips on yours, melting into this sweet kiss with the brownie in his mouth. and he thinks you might just taste sweeter than the brownie melting between the two of yours mouth.

reo mikage:

he doesn’t get this tight feeling wrapping like thorns around his heart - seeing you so close with a classmate, smiling as he seems to be teaching you something through the windows of your classroom. it’s clearly not the exhaustion from climbing all the way from his class at the first level to yours at the fourth with this being the millionth time hes done this like a instinct every time the bell rings, its not the way your hands seems to linger so close to his practically touching someone’s else hands that gets reo sweating cold beads of sweat down his neck, and its not jealousy at how someone else might just be better than him. realistically he knows, you’re probably just having difficulties in your academics, a normal human thing but he can’t help the bitter bile that rises to his mouth - he can teach you too evident from the library dates where he helps you go through your homework and teach you the same concepts like hes made for it and hes definitely better than that classmate right? hes smarter, he tops the class every single exam without fail with his name always plastered on the results sheet as number one, he’s much more charming he would like to believe with your smile always reaching your eyes that he adores, and he’s much more useful with the way he can teach you whilst helping you with other things like while buying you food on his phone, fixing your broken pens, or something. he swallows the bitter bile, walking into the practically empty class with just you and that.. classmate, scruntising his every detail in his mind all whilst putting on the charming facade hes too used to having on - one that you can tell by the furrowing of your eyebrows at him as he grabs a chair and slides it beside you as though looking at your homework.

“haven’t i taught you this before?” its petty, he knows, its quite literally a new chapter, one that he knows your class just started on. but he thinks it does the job when he sees your classmate suddenly feel uncomfortable - perhaps its the tone of his voice that underlies irritation clearly meant for him, perhaps its the subtle passive aggressive smile aimed at him, or perhaps its the intimidation of having reo mikage right next to you clearly upset with you. he doesn’t really enjoy the title placed on him, if anything sometimes he loathes the reputation that comes with his family name, with people looking at him as only that and never as reo - but just this time does he thank the stars for his luck.

“huh?” he can tell, youre confused, and he thinks youre just so oblivious or maybe hes just weirdly jealous of something so insignificant that even your brain can’t comprehend him at all. but he doesn’t mind it as he glanced sideways at your classmate - awkwardly and quickly packing his bag, leaving just you and reo sitting at your desk.

and its awkward silence, with him looking at your homework that he just received just an hour ago and hasn’t started on too, and you looking confused at him. its not unfamiliar to see reo in your class, its practically routine at this point, except he usually just stands outside until youre done with packing your bag, taking it right from your hands the second you step out of your class.

“so.. who was that?” he cant help the way his voice suddenly sounds so soft, as though its about to crack, as if hes about to cry. he tries to clear his throat to even it out, and even so, he definitely sounded a little too out of character - out of character for how he presents himself: nothing short of perfect. and he knows youve caught it, the cats out of the bag, when he sees the sides of your mouth tug up a little as you zip your bag.

“just a classmate reo really…” your voice a little teasing, looking at him knowingly, as his hands tug at your bag, slinging it around his right shoulder where it should belong. and he thinks its alright: the way you ruffle his hair that feels just so right that he leans in even closer and even bends down a little like a dog desperate for a pat, the way you beam at him that he knows is meant only for him that shifts the rest of your class to be nothing more than just a blur, the way your bag fits snugly on his shoulder as it was meant to be.

“yeah? it better be!~” he chirps, jealousy no longer gripping onto him like a chain tugging at his neck, reminiscent of the feeling he feels in his stuffy and restrictive home. and he knows it’ll be that way until the end of time: the way your hands tugs at his tightly as though you never want to let go either, the way you look at him as though he’s your entire world, the way you understand him even through a few words. soulmates, maybe, and perhaps he has no reasons to ever feel this bitter feeling that burns his throat.

HI NISHIIII, for the event can I get kaiser with spicy, 🍮 and rivals to lovers ? 🍮 THANK U 😼

ORDER 10: READY TO GO !

kaiser + spicy + eye contact + rivals to lovers w.c. 1k+

note. this is for you, no.1 kaiser kisser 🤭 it literally took everything in me (fighting my demons) not to spoil the story for you cus i am a chronic yapper, and i tell you basically everything i write LMAO

interested in more? check out the lounge !

your team would probably shun you if they saw you right now— fraternizing, if you could even call it that, with the enemy. 

you can’t find it in you to blame them, reminding yourself of what position you’d been in, just ten minutes prior. the score on the big screen read 3:2, bright and bold and red, and mocking you— no, mocking your team. the tangible, irrefutable proof that your team had just suffered one of its most devastating losses of the season. you remind yourself of the way their shoulders quivered, the way they all turned away from one another, as they tried to process this grief on their own. you think that you probably should’ve felt numb, that your ears should’ve been ringing as the cheers of the stadium droned on and on, and that you should’ve felt the crushing weight of the loss that your team had just suffered. that as their manager, who had seen them through their highs and lows, it was also your duty to feel what they do. 

and yet, there you were, blatantly ogling the man who stood in the center of the field; gloating in his victory, accepting the praises that rained on him, all while staring right at you too. kaiser always makes a show out of it, always making sure your eyes are locked onto him as he lifts his shirt— fingers gripping the hem of his jersey as he pulls the fabric up, to dab at the sweat that lines the crown of his forehead, exposing his glistening skin and the way the sweat rolls off the ridges of his abs. 

you know he finds entertainment in the way your eyes travel down, almost instinctively, trailing the singular drop of sweat that rolls down the line of his body, before your eyes snap back up. he’s smug, irritatingly so, and all too aware of the fact that you could not rip your eyes away from him. he does this, every time; you fall for it, every time. 

it’s like a trance, and the shame you feel after is overwhelming. only then do you find yourself walking away, back to the tunnel and the hallways of the stadium, trying to bury the shame and the image of his body into the depths of your mind.

but, like everything else with kaiser, he never makes it easy to forget him. he's always hot on your heels, lingering around you, reminding you of his presence. to rub in his win, or for something else, you're never really sure.

"you know, it hurts me that you always avoid me after.” you freeze, every muscle in your body tensing at the familiar sound of kaiser’s voice. he’s standing there, leaning casually against the wall, arms crossed over his chest, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. he still hasn’t changed out of his jersey, skin still glistening with sweat, and chest heaving— ignoring the way the rest of his team walks off into the locker rooms without him. “can’t stand being close to me after a win? or is it something else that’s got you all riled up?"

your stomach churns at the insinuation, and despite yourself, your body betrays you— your head turns to face him, eyes flicking to glance at him, and catching his gaze. but the feeling is short-lived, and you peel your eyes away from him almost immediately, finding faux fascination in the clipboard in your hands. “i’m not sure i’m catching your drift,” you lie. 

the scoff under his breath is hard to miss, with the way the sound slightly echoes in the, now empty, hallways. you hear everything in here— the rustle of his jersey as he unfurls his arms, his footsteps, and the way they get louder with each step as he stalks closer to you. the deliberation in his steps, and the way he takes long, but slow, strides towards you. enjoying the way your body tenses in anticipation. 

“you know what i mean. ogling a player from the opposing team, huh?” kaiser appears from behind you, and you instinctively flinch at his voice. you can feel the way his breath tickles the skin of your nape, lacking a concept of personal space or maybe just not caring, as leans down to level with you. “you seemed to be enjoying yourself back there.”

“don’t flatter yourself,” you huff, looking the other way as he perches his chin on top of your shoulder. you can feel the heat of his gaze as he looks at side of your face, intense and unyielding— and flustering. “i wasn’t.” a lie.

kaiser knows. “sure.” because he catches the way the tips of your ears bloom into a deep crimson, and he laughs softly at this— a low, deep sound that reverberates in your ears. “you hate me, right?” he questions you, but the smirk is evident in his tone. 

“i do,” you say with as much conviction, another lie, but determined not to give him the satisfaction of seeing you bothered— affected, by him. “i despise you,” and you want to believe it yourself. but your voice betrays you, it falters, it loses that animosity that has his smirk spreading into a grin. 

you make the mistake of glancing at him again, watching as something flickers in his eyes. something along the lines of intrigue, satisfaction, like you’d said exactly what he had wanted to hear. a bold lie, a challenge for him to disprove because he knows you’re lying. that, despite claiming that you despise him, you can’t stop the way you crave to see him. 

“then,” he straightens his body, no longer leaning on you for support. and as you try to look away from him again, to escape him, he stops you. his left hand crawls up your left arm, leaving a line of goosebumps in its path as it travels up— you feel the way they hover over your shoulder, and then the junction of your neck, tracing your jaw as his deft fingers find their way to your chin. it’s aggressive— the way he tilts your chin to the right, forcing you to glance up at him, right into his eyes. “why do you never push me away?” he asks, his voice dipping in a way that makes your pulse race. “unless, you’re secretly enjoying this.”

© rindreamery, 2025

BF TEXTS W/ THE BLUE LOCK BOYS

ft. kaiser, nagi, isagi, sae, rin, and reo

warnings: suicide jokes (sae and kaiser), jokes about violence (isagi), reader being an instigator (isagi), kaiser backstory spoilers

kaiser, nagi, isagi

sae, rin, reo

Giggle. Giggle. Giggle.

You’ve been giggling nonstop for the past hour now. Don’t get him wrong, Kaiser loves hearing your laughter but right now it’s starting to piss him off.

You just sit there staring at whatever it is on your phone and giggling like a schoolgirl with a crush. He raised an eyebrow completely abandoning the book in his hands and focusing his gaze on you.

“What’s so funny?” He asked with a teasing tone to his voice.

When you didn’t reply and kept smiling at your phone he frowned closing his book and moving towards your spot on the couch.

He tilted his head toward to take a peek at your phone but you were quicker to hide it, “Looking at someone’s phone without their permission isn’t nice, Michael.”

His frown deepened at that and moved closer to you, “What are you looking at? You’re been ignoring me and giggling like a lovesick fool.”

You bite your lip trying to contain a smile, “Well, that’s none of your business, pretty~” you poke his cheek and move towards stand up from your spot but he swiftly snakes his arm around your waist and forces you back into his chest.

“And where do you think you’re going, huh?” He smirks down at you successfully trapping you against his chest.

“Let me go, Michael!” You say through laughter.

He tilts his head up, pretending to think “Hmmmm… I think I won’t” he started slowly caressing your tummy.

“Now, you have two choices here, either you tell me willingly or I force it out of you, love” his fingers that were caressing your tummy just a moment ago moved to ticked you now.

Your uncontrollable laughter could be heard through the whole apartment. You squirmed in his grip and pleads started falling from your lips involuntarily.

“P-Please Michael! I- I’ll show you! Stop!” You managed to get it out while Kaiser kept attacking your sides.

He halts his movements and smirks down at you “What an obedient little thing you are.” for a second you contemplated not wanting to satisfy him upon seeing his shit-eating grin.

You sigh and move to reach for your phone unlocking it with ease. “There, happy now?” You push the phone in his face flashing his with an edit of himself.

He falls silent for a moment but recovers from his initial shock quickly and the grin makes it back to his lips. “Oh, so it’s me you’re drooling over, huh.”

You smile sheepishly and blush a little, “Well, they did capture your finest moments on the field…” you hear his giggling in your ears and you’re attacked again, although this time the target is your neck and Kaiser is planting kisses all over it.

"𝐰𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮"

kaiser was used to getting what he wanted. 

a childhood of fists and slurred threats had taught him that power belonged to the strongest, the smartest, the ones who knew how to control the board. his father had controlled through fear. his mother had controlled through absence. he had learned to control through understanding. not to heal, but to win. 

that was why he read. psychology books lined his shelves, not for self-improvement, but for strategy. he picked apart minds the way he picked apart defenses on the field, exploiting weaknesses to his advantage. every opponent had an insecurity, a trigger, a soft spot. teammates were no different. he whispered the right words at the right time, making them believe in him, bend to him. he played the game not just with his feet, but with his mind. 

and he won. always. 

until you. 

you were supposed to be another challenge, another prize. kaiser was good-looking, successful, charismatic, no one told him no. but you did. not rudely, not cruelly. just a simple, unwavering “no” that threw him off balance more than any defender ever had. 

“you’re not ready for me,” you had said. “not like this.” 

he had scoffed, laughed it off, but something in your eyes unsettled him. you saw through him. the masks, the manipulations, the carefully crafted persona he had spent years perfecting. you weren’t interested in his charm, his success, or the way he could twist words to make people crumble. 

you wanted something he didn’t know how to give. 

“come back when you’ve stopped running,” you told him. 

at first, he convinced himself you were playing hard to get. that you’d come around, like they all did. but days turned to weeks, then months, and you didn’t waver. every time he saw you, you were the same. honest. steady. unmoved by his tactics. 

it pissed him off. 

kaiser found himself standing in front of a mirror late one night, gripping the edge of the sink, knuckles white. the bathroom lights flickered slightly, an old wiring issue he hadn’t bothered to fix. his breath came hard and fast. another bad game. another night where he’d screamed at his teammates for mistakes that were just as much his fault as theirs. he had watched their faces, the way their shoulders tensed, the way their confidence shrank. 

he knew that feeling. 

he had worn it once, long ago, cowering under his father’s drunken rage. 

the thought hit him like a punch to the gut. his grip on the sink tightened as he forced himself to look at his reflection. dark circles beneath his eyes, tension in his jaw, a sneer twisting his lips. he looked like a man who resented the world. like a man who needed control to survive. 

like his father. 

a sickening wave of nausea curled in his stomach. he stumbled back, his breath coming sharp and ragged. he clenched his fists, shaking his head. 

no. that wasn’t him. he wasn’t like that. 

but wasn’t he? 

hadn’t he built his entire life on power, on knowing exactly how to bend people to his will? hadn’t he used his words like his father had used his fists? maybe not in violence, but in force. in control. 

a trembling breath escaped his lips. he squeezed his eyes shut, willing the memory away. the stench of beer on his father’s breath, the sharp sting of words that cut deeper than any blow. “you’ll never be anything. you’re just like me.” 

no. 

he had spent his entire life trying to prove that wrong, but maybe in the end, he had just become the same poison, poured into a different bottle. 

that night, he barely slept. he lay awake, staring at the ceiling, haunted by the realization that for all his intelligence, all his careful calculations, he had never once truly looked at himself. 

but you had. 

𐙚

kaiser found you at the park just before sunset. the sky was painted in streaks of orange and pink, the air crisp with the fading warmth of the day. you were sitting on a wooden bench near the soccer field, watching a group of kids kick around a ball, their laughter ringing through the air. 

he hesitated for a moment, hands in his pockets, before forcing himself to move forward. the old him would have had a plan, a perfect script to sway you. but now, he had nothing but the truth. 

so he sat beside you, letting a moment of silence settle between you both before speaking. 

“i don’t know how to be better,” he admitted, his voice quieter than he intended. “i only know how to win. and i don’t want to do that with you.” 

you turned to look at him, studying him in that way you always did, like you saw past everything he tried to be and straight to everything he was. 

he braced himself, expecting rejection, expecting you to say that it was too late. 

but you didn’t. 

“you’re trying,” you said softly. “that’s enough.” 

his chest tightened. his whole life, worth had been measured by success, by control. but here you were, telling him that just the act of trying was enough. 

“you’re not going to make this easy for me, are you?” he asked, half a smile pulling at his lips. 

you shook your head, though there was warmth in your eyes. “no. if it was easy, it wouldn’t mean anything.” 

he let out a slow breath, running a hand through his hair as he glanced toward the kids still playing. 

“then i guess i’ve got work to do.” 

you smiled, and for the first time in his life, he felt like he wasn’t running. 

he was finally standing still. 

and maybe, just maybe, that was how he really won you. 

© 𝐤𝐱𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐢

a/n: kaiser is one of my favorite written characters and i definitely see a lot of people get him wrong. this video does a really good job of explaining who he is and i highly recommend it https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bD77we_jtQQ&list=LL&index=8 

he definitely doesn't deserve to have grown up the way he did, but i also want to include the message in here to not repeat generational cycles. sometimes, we can even do it unconsciously, but catch yourself before it becomes too familiar. work on yourself, healing is the best thing you can do for yourself. sending much love to everyone reading this 🫶🏻

“those stupid things are going to kill you.”

“then i’m going to die happy.”

rin scowls as he watches you hang upside down on the couch, stuffing your face with sour gummy worms. you’re not sure why he always does this every time you have an unhealthy snack, but you pay him no mind regardless. he’s the insane athlete, not you.

this song and dance is familiar to you, so you easily tug the bag away when he swiftly tries to reach for it and pry it from your grasp. a displeased huff leaves him and he grumbles, “i don’t know why you insist on putting that shit in your body.”

it’s clear he’s only like this because he cares about you and your health, but he also doesn’t understand you don’t need such strict restrictions on your diet the way he does. a love language for sure, but one that gets a bit lost in translation.

“my wiggly friends would never betray me, rinnie. one bag every so often is fine,” you say while slurping a worm like a noodle, making him grimace from the noise. sensing the conversation will go nowhere he simply grabs his soccer ball from his bag and heads outside to get some practice shots in.

he’s also positive you don’t see the small smile on his face when you call out for him to have fun and that you love him.

“i swear i bought more of them…” you mumble to yourself, rummaging through the snack cabinet in your shared kitchen.

(snacks that are almost exclusively bought by you apart from rin’s protein bars that have the taste and texture of cement. eugh.)

unsuccessful in your endeavors, you instead head up to the bedroom to ask rin if he did something with them. you don’t think he’d do something like throw them away behind your back out of pure respect for your choices as an adult, but he could’ve accidentally moved things without realizing.

you push open the door, asking, “rin, have you seen my -” his head whips around with wide eyes full of guilt as he haphazardly throws something across the room. from his mouth hangs a solitary string, red and blue and filled to the brim with sugar.

sour gummy worms. your sour gummy worms.

a shit eating grin is already on your face as he groans and tries to defend himself. he doesn’t really have an argument though, not when it was so obvious he was indulging in the very thing he ridiculed you for.

“i don’t fucking - i just wanted to see if they were worth killing yourself over,” he mutters through gritted teeth. there’s no point to even trying, rin quickly realizes as you close in on him.

you lose your mind laughing at him while his ears turn pink. he scoots over with a sigh so you can flop onto the bed, singing out, “rin loves gummy worrrrms!”

it’s so unbelievably annoying, but he finds that he doesn’t mind being the butt of the joke for a brief moment if it means seeing you so filled with joy.

plus, you’re too distracted to notice him grab another pack from his side table and shove a few more into his mouth. a win-win situation, he thinks.

How to Subtly Show Someone You're Interested

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 2.4k TYPE: Humor, Bad flirting, bickering WARNINGS: huge Kaiser tw

#1 Eye contact

Kaiser has been acting strange.

Usually this would not be an observation you'd be making (as he acts weird all the time so it's not worthy of note), but today he's been so odd, it's starting to bug you even more than his default level of being annoying.

He keeps just… staring blankly. At you. You don't know what you did to deserve this horrible treatment — perhaps you did not grovel enough after accidentally butting into His Majesty’s shoulder, or breathed in his direction too hard without permission, or some other similar tragedy — but it's getting unsettling.

Well, honestly, it was creepy to begin with, but it's making your skin crawl more and more the longer it goes on. Like, what does he want? Are you going to be on the news soon? His eyes are blue and lifeless and evil like always, so you know he can't be up to anything good each time he burns your body to a crisp with his stoic serial killer gaze. It's even worse when he smirks at you while he does it, that's how you know the torture you'll endure at his hands will be slow and painful, and he's already delighting in his demented plans before putting them into action.

Kaiser attempts to maintain his stare down with you while he makes his way out of the training room and you stay behind putting away whatever you need to, observing him in confusion and fear. Though, of course, you would not admit to something as lowly as letting Kaiser intimidate you out loud (since you don't want to partake in an action that seems to give him a mental orgasmic feeling), at least to yourself, you can concede you're on edge.

… That is, until his dedication towards being a scrote proves detrimental even to him because he runs into the wall, hitting about half his face. It seems tormenting you is too distracting for a sick sadist like Kaiser. He palms at his skin, probably seething to himself while trying to seem cool and collected and totally not on the brink of shitting himself in anger on the outside, as if such a small thing as a solid wall could not faze him or even cause him pain.

You point and laugh at him. Kaiser pretends not to see you and walks out tall and proud like nothing happened. This will have to do as your revenge, for now.

#2 Initiate conversation

“Did you have a nice weekend?” asks Kaiser.

“It's Tuesday,” you reply, once again confused. Why is he talking to you, does he have nothing better to do.

“Right,” he says in a casual tone, like he didn't just ask you an irrelevant dumbass question. “The weather is nice.”

You ignore that one, but you can't help wondering if something is wrong with him and if this is an obscure call for help. Blackmail from a drooling fan perhaps? After all, it's unlike him to say anything so boring and ordinary, and you don't imagine he would make small talk with you unless it's a complicated code to signal that his life is in danger.

“What restaurant would you recommend?” Kaiser tries again.

“What?”

There's an uncomfortable silence during which you're just looking at each other, you perplexed and him expressionless, the previous guise of pleasantries and fake sweet smile wiped off. It is possibly even more uncomfortable than anything else that has unfolded between you two in the past. Then Kaiser says, “You know, I think you're an ingrate.”

“What?!”

“You’re not appreciative enough of my efforts.”

“For what?!”

Kaiser scoffs, averse to elaborating due to humiliation (either because of his apparent failure or because it's plain embarrassing to state his intentions when you don't seem receptive to them or because being outright on the matter requires him to express himself, which is in nature disgusting). Then you watch while he walks away from you in a moody fit.

Well, at least if he has the energy to act temperamental, that must mean he's not in any shittier spirits than usual. It is way less unnerving than his earlier civility, for one.

#3 Compliment them

Kaiser has no respect for personal space. Or more like he only deems his need for such important and disregards everyone else's. You know this.

But you can't lie in good conscience that he's gotten this close to you before, examining you, leaning in way too close. Close enough that you feel Ness planning your murder from across the field. Close enough to warrant a harassment complaint.

You assume Kaiser must be looking for miniscule flaws to fake laugh at like a missing eyelash or the fact that you have pores, but instead of doing what you predicted, after a long while of making you almost throw up from nerves — what's with this guy and staring at you like a microbe under a telescope so much? — he says, “You have beautiful sclera.”

???

You bristle at the sound of the strange thing he said. Unperturbed by your visibility negative reaction, Kaiser continues,

“And I love the way you look at me, like you want to kill me. It gives me a thrill.”

What's wrong with this guy? you think to yourself.

“Your bone structure can almost rival mine-”

“Kaiser, stop talking nonsense and go… back to doing something else somewhere away from me.”

“Hmph.” He backs off to a more socially appropriate distance, crossing his arms. “I see you still haven't fixed your attitude.”

“Me? I need to fix my attitude?! When you're the one acting like a depraved person?”

“Wow, if you think that's what I'm doing, you must not understand anything about the world at all,” he says in a condescending tone, smirking at you with played up amusement.

“You have some nerve! Kaiser, go away before I take advantage of my position and put rat poison in your water bottle. It'd suit you to go out that way.”

“You're so obsessed with me.”

After that declaration, he whips around to make a dramatic and majestic exit, with a deliberate swat of his hair to your face. Maybe you'll be spitting out gross blue strands after this. You fume to yourself.

#4 Light touches

Once again, Kaiser is plaguing you. Today's method of inflicting trauma seems to involve more gratuitous touching than usual.

He awkwardly drags his hand over your shoulder.

You stare at him as if this is the most scandalous offense you've been on the receiving end of. Maybe it's not, but he's been walking on your nerves all day with other such inept attempts at caresses. “Did you just wipe something on my sleeve?”

“What?” he asks in a flat tone. “No. Are you dumb?”

Your expression doesn't show anything other than incredulity. Certainly not the fluster and admiration Kaiser is hoping for.

You then go right back to ignoring him like he is dust. This is outrageous, he's going to be sick. Kaiser takes fate into his hands and embraces you stiffly from behind (once again showing his lack of etiquette).

Startled, you ask, “Are you gonna put me in an octopus hold?”

“No? Do you always have to assume I'm going to do something bad to you?”

“Well, it's not like you ever do anything good.”

Kaiser lets go of you even though he doesn't want to — truly a moment of his character development you're witnessing —, his arms dropping limply by his sides while he frowns at you like a kicked kitty. Exquisite manipulation tactic, however, you're not moved by the display at all.

He says, “I still think you need to fix your attitude.”

You roll your eyes and let him have his little moment with his snide remark. An immediate retort hasn't come to mind after all, and you'd rather play it off as disregarding him than admit to the shameful lack of a comeback. It's not your fault his incomprehensible behavior leaves you speechless, anyway.

#5 Be there for them

Kaiser decides to skip this one as it's even more vile than when he lowered himself enough to the point he tried to hug you.

#6 Use humor

Kaiser stands in front of you, trying to think of something funny to say, which isn't an activity he engages in often (as the comedy of his existence is often unintentional or manifests in the form of being a bitch for no reason and antagonizing people unprovoked). During this process, you're once more forced to endure the weight of his unrelenting, vacant stare.

“I have a controversial football opinion,” says Kaiser, finally.

“As usual.”

“The ball is sentient and it hates getting kicked around like that.”

You tilt your head, not understanding why Michael Kaiser would say something so… silly? “Well, I'm sure you take some delight in imagining that,” you say in an unsure voice, not knowing how else to reply.

Kaiser smirks at you in an attempt to shrug off his latest failure and feign casualness. Then he tries again because his spirit is as tenacious as his gawping. “You should always make sure to distinguish between ‘I’m sorry’ and ‘I apologize’ at a funeral.”

“Why? Do you speak from experience? Is that a little slip up from when you attended the funeral of one of all those people you killed?”

“No. I think if I killed someone, I'd be the type to facetiously say ‘rest in peace,’ just to piss them off in the afterlife.”

“I can imagine you doing that. Good for you I guess.”

Kaiser snickers to himself — maybe because he's enjoying imagining all his enemies dead — and plays with his fingers in an almost nervous manner, which makes you question if you're perhaps hallucinating. He ponders if he's funny or not.

#7 Text them

(04:55 AM) Michael Kaiser: [5 image attachments]

(06:32 AM) You: why are you sending me shirtless mirror pics lol

(06:46 AM) Michael Kaiser: Wrong person

(06:50 AM) You: did you mean to send that to ness

(07:02 AM) Michael Kaiser: No

(07:05 AM) Michael Kaiser: ???

(07:43 AM) You: well you only talk to me and him so if it's not for us who else could it be for

(07:44 AM) You: lol don't tell me you did that to seem sought after haha

(07:48 AM) Michael Kaiser: Let's stop talking for a little while.

#8 Give them attention

Kaiser gives you plenty of attention, and he doesn't even make you do tricks for it. Like for example right now, when he's poking you in the ribs while you're trying to fill out something unfinished on the tablet during your break.

You slap his hand away. “Kaiser. What.”

He moves onto poking your neck instead, forcing you to wiggle away from him as he continues his antics despite your dodging.

“What do you want?!”

“I just don't want you to feel neglected by me,” he says in a tone he probably believes is suave.

“I don't.”

“You're trying to seem brave, but your eyes give you away.”

“You're crazy,” you say, not even in shock or embarrassment, but rather a very apparent disorientation. “If anything I've been overdosing on you lately.”

“There’s never enough of me. You don't need to pretend just to humble me. It's not cute nor clever.”

“Kaiser, quit it before I cut off your finger and poke you with it instead.”

To your surprise, Kaiser stops. You watch him warily for a few seconds before feeling safe enough to turn around and try doing your work again.

Kaiser pokes you on the sides.

#9 Playful teasing

“You look like shit today,” greets Kaiser with a smirk, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Did they let the clown academy off early today?”

“Kaiser, you're so immature.” You shrug him off. Usually you'd allow the contact, granted he's not being rude or creepy, but he's done the former a nanosecond into the conversation, so you're not going to stand for it.

“I assume you're stupid or uptight enough to take me seriously. That's always fun.”

“Trust me, you're the last person in the world I'd take seriously.”

“No, but really, you're quite unencumbered by the standards of beauty today.”

“So I'm ugly and stupid? Awesome, thank you so much.”

His traitorous hand which had grabbed at your shoulder earlier moves lower around your waist instead, pulling you closer. At his actions, you squint your eyes and look at him as if he is a dirty wet sock. “Don't worry, I'd still take you though.”

This horrendous thing he just uttered makes you gape in shock. Then it morphs into disgust, and you smack him on the arm and retch at him.

#10 Mention being single

You expect something horrific to happen this time when Kaiser approaches you, but instead, out of the blue, unprovoked, nobody asked or moved — as most things are with him — he announces, “By the way, I'm single.”

You raise an eyebrow at him, not sure what to do with this information. “Yeah, that figures.”

“What do you mean? Tons of people want me, but I don't want them back. That's why I'm available, that's all.”

“Don't explain yourself to me, I don't care,” you say flippantly, crossing your arms and shifting your weight to one leg.

“Well, you should.”

“Sure, Mr. ‘Sorry Wrong Chat.’” You snort.

Kaiser upturns his nose and glares at you. “You’re mischaracterizing me and presenting that whole situation wrong. For one, I didn't say sorry.” Then he scoots closer to you, grinning without smiling with his eyes whatsoever. “Anyway, I'll forgive you. As long as you remember the main point, which is that I'm single.”

“I know, dipshit.”

“Wow, can't you rub your little brain cells together, the whole two of them, and understand what I've been getting at?” Kaiser snaps, frustrated that the fruits of his incompetent labor aren't ready for reaping yet.

“It's not my fault you can't say whatever you have to say properly,” you say, delivering your line in a pointed tone so that he can grasp the implication you're making this time.

Kaiser blinks with the small frown still on his face, a remnant of his earlier scowling. Then realization sets in and his lips form a thin line instead. His cheeks color slightly.

You're fucking with him on purpose.

___

Some slop I wrote on my phone on vacation in between drinking and sweltering in my own gooch in the sun. Enjoy or don't

turning your back on itoshi rin even just for a second is the biggest death wish you’ll ever have.

not because his intention is to kill you ( maybe it is, i don’t know ) but because when you turn back to look at him, he’s right behind you—standing tall and looking down at you like a mad man and it scares you so much you feel like you were one more heartbeat away from a heart attack.

especially by how little sound he made creeping up towards you, you didn’t know he was right there until you looked back. honestly, rin is just unnerving in general, from the fact you’ve never seen him cry—like at all—or the way he’s as stiff as a board whenever you try to hug him, or maybe it was because he downs horror related things like water.

. . . but right now, his unfazed expression is going to send you into the gutters of hell. if you could pick a super-power at this very moment, it would be the ability to slide passed these damn floors so you don’t have to deal with this.

“oh, rin . . ! when did you get here . . ?” you’re a nervous wreck who may or may not be sweating balls. “since you turned your back.” he says—okay so he’s been there for like 2 seconds at this point—is that humanely possible? unless he’s some kind of monster who runs a block per second. you slowly nod, looking at his bottom lashes instead of his eyes. “you look nervous.” he blurts out because you’re obviously unsettled—eyes shaky, voice shaky, oh and your body is shaking against his—it’s annoying him.

thanks, mr. obvious. does he really not get that sneaking up behind people is absolutely horrifying? is he trying to star in a horror movie?

this man is a walking jumpscare.

sticky note. hey ya’ll . . . will u be my kaisentines? 🥰

sae itoshi was not a nonchalant boyfriend or a chill guy, despite how much he tried to seem like he was. you don’t ask him for his opinion on your outfit? do you not want him (to compliment you and ask you to do a small twirl so he could see the ensemble properly and then pepper your cute face with kisses)? you don’t want him to share his food with you? okay, so basically you’re saying you want him to go to hell.

you tell him to quit liking flirty comments from random people under your posts? what’s wrong with that, he agrees with them— you’re absolutely stunning. and no, he isn’t doing it just so those randoms get a notification that saeitoshi, with a silly picture of you and him with your cheeks smushed together as his profile picture, has liked their comment so that they now know you aren’t single and looking for some sleazy jackass who thinks they can get your undivided attention just by commenting ‘🔥🔥’. seriously, how dare you accuse him of such pettiness?

but really, none of that is compareable to how he feels right now; damp hair sticking to his forehead, towel over his shoulder, one hand buttoning up his loose shirt while he’s looking at his phone, fresh out of the shower after the usual training. his teammates are yapping about something like they always do but it’s all silent in his head as he takes in what feels like utter blasphemy on the screen.

zero notifications.

well, actually, he had a shit ton of texts messages from his teammates and people he considered somewhat his friends but none of them really matter— only you do.

and you hadn’t texted him since yesterday (almost 24 hours ago!), when he was on his way home and asked you if you wanted him to bring you extra snacks or something.

do you hate him?

he clicked out of the messages app and checked instagram, where you’d usually have flooded his dms with chronically online shit that he had no idea how you found funny. seriously, what the heck is all that about divers going into small spaces and eye of dih? he visibly deflates when he sees you hadn’t sent anything on there either (the last text was from him, when he’d said ‘???’ to your text that read ‘what is a father?’).

Sae [16:43pm]: Do you hate me

nah. scoffing to himself, he deleted the words, exited the app and pocketted his phone. since when was he such an attention deprived, needy little shit? whatever.

by the time he opens the front door to your shared home, there’s still no text, no call, no reel, nothing from you. “angel?” he calls out in his usual, casual tone, nudging the door shut with his boot. “’m home.”

“in here, sae,” you call out from the bedroom and he quickly takes off his shoes, drops his duffel bag onto the couch and trudges into the bedroom, feeling as if if he were a puppy, his tail would be wagging harshly behind him. “i was just about to text you.” you tell him with a small smile from where you’re sitting on the office chair behind the desk, your laptop in front of you and notes strewn all over the desk. you were.. studying.

ah, right. no wonder you hadn’t texted him.

you barely register his silent footsteps and fast pace until he’s right behind you within the time it took for you to blink, one hand on the arm of the chair to turn it around before he’s half hunched over you, his other hand pressing on your back to tug you into a hug. “missed you,” his voice is muffled as he buries his face into the crook of your neck, the soft tufts of his moist hair tickling your chin and neck. “thought you hated me.”

“what?” it was said so quietly that you almost didn’t hear it, but you do and now you’re pulling back a bit to look at him properly. “what gave you that idea?”

“forget about it,” he tries to avoid the question in a painfully untactful manner, attempting to hug you again, but faltering as he sees the look on your face. god, this was so humiliating. “y‘didn't text me today— or call, or send me stupid reels,” he points out with an embarrassed grunt, standing up to his full height and running a hand through his hair. “thought you were pissed at me for beating you in monopoly or something.”

huffing, you grin up at him. “you didn’t have to bring that up, jerk. but no, as you can see,” you gesture to your table and he notices the splotches and lines of dried ink on your fingers from your pen. “i’ve been studying. or trying to, at least.”

“huh.” he lets out, grasping your hand in his and intertwining your fingers before untangling them again so he could toy around with them. his brows furrow and he scoffs when you continue, saying something along the lines of ‘i didn’t think you’d notice.’ “yeah, well, i noticed. i dunno. kinda hard to miss the zero texts from the only person i reply to, yeah?”

your eyes brighten at that, but you tease, “ohh, yeah, right. sorry, i forgot you’re a friendless loser.”

“look who’s talking,” he shoots back, and you’d almost be offended if it wasn’t for the playful look in his eyes. he sighs and dips his head to press a kiss to your temple before walking over to the closet.

“were you really sad that i didn’t send you stupid reels?” you ask him with a curious look while watching him pick out a random t-shirt and sweats, not making fun of him like you’d usually do, just genuine curiousity in your tone.

he hums in response, undoing a few buttons of his shirt before tugging it off his head and glancing at you, with his teal eyes narrowed in contemplation, shirt still hanging around his elbows. “guess so. ’s stupid, huh?”

“nah,” is your immediate reply, followed by a small shrug. “i think it’s sweet, actually. in a pathetic sort of way. you’re kinda sweet.”

during his 10-minute break from training the next day, he finds himself on the bench of the locker room, resting his aching legs with his half empty water bottle next to him as he’s scrolling through your dms with a soft smile. a shit ton of reels and one ‘good luck at practice!!’ message stares back at him.

yeah. he thinks you’re (kinda) sweet too.

Michael Kaiser — BETRAYAL

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader WORD COUNT: 1.2k TYPE: Humor, Established Relationship WARNING: Kaiser 😰

You wake up to someone shaking your shoulders. This is immediately alarming, but what’s even worse is that once your eyes flutter open, the obnoxious lights blind you. Your eyes shut close again, but you’re confused — for one you did not see the perpetrator, which means there might be an intruder in your house or something, and the other thing is, you recall turning off the lights before going to bed. So maybe it’s a poltergeist or something.

No need to fret for long. Soon enough you hear a familiar voice speak, his tone demanding and intonation annoying (as usual). “What have you done?”

You rub at your eyes some more and try to blink them open. It still hurts, but finally your brain processes that Kaiser has come back. Though the last time you spoke to him about his arrangements after the away game, he claimed he’d come back on Monday in the morning. Instead he’s already home two days earlier at an odd hour.

Did he lie to you? Well, you don’t have enough time to mull on this matter because Kaiser continues.

“How could you do this to me?!”

“Wha… What did I do?”

Nothing noteworthy you could’ve done comes to mind. There is a large amount of drool in the corner of your mouth, so you wipe it with the back of your hand as your awareness stirs more, warding off your drowsiness. While you’re glad it’s no longer painful to merely look at things, it also means you’ll have trouble falling asleep again because of Kaiser’s histrionics rousing you too much.

He’s very much still in his airport clothes and his suitcase seems to have been dumped in front of your side of the bed, placed in such a position which has been undoubtedly calculated with a high chance of your tripping on it in the morning in mind. You open your mouth to scold him about it and to order him to put his shit someplace else, but instead Kaiser keeps making a scene,

“I go out of my way to surprise you by returning at such an inhumane part of the day-”

You roll your eyes while Kaiser gesticulates. Your lack of amusement isn’t a deterrent to him at all, this fact made clear by the way he ignores what you did to go on with his charade.

“-and what greets me when I first step into our bedroom? YOU. Lying in OUR bed. With ANOTHER MAN.”

…

…

…?

“What?” you ask. “What man?”

“He’s right there. Do you think I’m stupid? You think you can gaslight your way out of this one?” Kaiser is still yelling. In fact he’s yelling so much, you’re really considering maybe some man materialized under your sheets because otherwise it makes no sense why Kaiser would be so convincingly angry. And yet you know there is no one else besides you inside of the property, so you can’t muster a response more appropriate than a scratch of your head. “How could you do this to me? After everything we’ve been through together. Answer me!”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the man in your arms!”

“You’re driving me crazy,” you say, both bewildered and stunned by your own perplexity. “There’s no man in my arms!” You’re not even sure why you’re treating this as if you’re giving it any sort of weight when Kaiser is clearly making stuff up for attention and a grand entrance.

“Yes there is. He’s right here.” With unnecessary aggression, Kaiser wrenches something out of your grip and then holds it up in the air, eyebrows furrowed like he just dug in trash instead of take a belonging of yours. With that belonging being the forty centimeter Michael Kaiser plushie you sleep with when he’s gone (its usual residence being the side of the closet he doesn’t use), filling the void on his side of the bed.

Yes, you’re crazy like that, but it’s besides the point. Not to mention you kind of forgot you were cuddling with it, since you were so preoccupied with Kaiser’s strange behavior and unexpected appearance back in the house.

After a moment your stupor wears off. “Are you serious?! You woke me up in the middle of the night to play some stupid joke on me?”

Kaiser smirks at you and lets out an evil and, might you add, effeminate giggle. Then he moves the plush back and forth in front of your face with an expression so smug, you feel a compulsive urge to punch him. “Look at him. His face is so smarmy and he’s just disgusting. Not to mention the way he stares at people is fucking creepy and perverted with that soulless smile. Even his eyes don’t sparkle. Unlike mine, of course.”

You let out a sound of frustration, you can’t hold it in. Why is Kaiser tormenting you with his merch design critiques at a time that can be considered both morning and late at night simultaneously? “Wh- he’s not sentient, how are his eyes supposed to sparkle? And why are you acting like he’s alive?”

Kaiser continues to smile at you. His expression remains smug and serene. It’s obvious he’s not guilty about waking you up at all. If anything he seems refreshed — maybe causing drama with such swiftness has a rejuvenating effect on him.

“Well, he’s modeled after you, anyway,” you say, bringing his attention to where the faults in the form may originate from.

“Honestly I don’t know how you can feel fine sleeping at night next to that thing and not scream in terror when you wake up to it staring at you in the morning,” snarks Kaiser, disregarding everything you brought up.

“Ugh, whatever.” You pluck Michael Kaiser the Stuffed… — animal? Human? No, stuffed human sounds unsettling. You need more rest. — back into your hold and roll over, pulling the blanket over yourself. “I’m going back to bed. Don’t interrupt me with any more of your bullshit.”

Taking satisfaction in making you unhappy, Kaiser snickers at your grumbling. You hear some rustling as he presumably changes, then he turns the light off and pads out of the room to wash his face and brush his teeth. You pray you’ll be able to doze off again.

Another weight joins you and the mattress dips under it while it moves behind you in an ominous manner. Kaiser settles down behind you and pulls you closer. You try to hold off, but end up giving in and turning around to reciprocate his embrace while he tucks you into his chest, Michael Kaiser the Stuffed Animal going forgotten and abandoned once you turn your back on him.

Normally, you would’ve ignored Kaiser and favored the plushie he detests so much over him just to spite him for his stunt, but you’re tired and his body is warm and inviting (not his personality though).

Kaiser moves his arm to reach behind you while you drift in and out of consciousness. There is some movement and then you hear a soft thump as if he smacked something off the bed and it landed on the floor after.

Once the enemy has been pushed out of the premises, Kaiser’s fingers find their way back to you.

___

Who up watching dandruff videos