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[appliances]

assorted shitty people

☆ @ the muselist

optional prompts/ideas

☆ caught in the rain meme ☆ little steps meme ☆ affectionate physical contact meme ☆ picture prompt also acceptable but link them so it's tidy ☆ AU ideas: soulmates AU, reincarnation AU, Bad End AU, canon divergent/roleswap AU, dorky college AU, crossover AU, super indulgent high fantasy AU ☆ melodrama is ultimate tier ★ SHIPPING AND FILTHY THINGS: ☆ non-fluffy relationship types I'm down for: codependent, master/servant power imbalance type ships, "we're bad for each other but worse for anyone else," other things I am failing to think of tbh ☆ things I won't rp: noncon (includes "dubcon"), incest, tsundere shit if your tsundere is just verbally abusive, gratuitous torture porn, you'll probably have to ask me about harder kinks and they will vary by character ☆ I don't have a kink list so pitch me an idea if u thirsty ☆ if you would prefer a locked post I can also make that happen

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[cupiditates]

[he could get white girl wasted from two shots alone, and will, someday, because greed will absolutely get him there]

Not smoking.

[He watches him, endeared and exasperated, and reaches to tap his cheek in something a little more firm than a caress but a little less than a slap.]

Fighting.

[moochobliged]

[hold his hair back when he voms cherries and peanuts, babe, thanks]

Oh. [Is this Greed trying to get him to murder his family, again... maybe not.] Alright, sounds like fun.

[cupiditates]

I don't mean kickboxing, kid. Real fighting.

[it's just that he feels there isn't the appropriate amount of awe here? he is not inviting him to a weekly session of an escape room.]

[moochobliged]

[let's emphasize that ling would be way better at escape rooms than greed, okay]

Okay... What are you planning on doing, stabbing me?

[cupiditates]

[ling would be better at a lot of social activities than greed]

I'm not. But maybe somebody from your family is. Or someone else, someone who thinks you saw something you shouldn't have.

[moochobliged]

[sad but true]

Hmm, fair enough. I'll cooperate, then.

[cupiditates]

[He hums softly, pleased. It's always nice when he gets his way, especially when getting his way means that pretty soon he's gonna get the chance to throw Ling around and pin him down and generally speaking fluster him in an entirely new and different way.]

Oh, well, thank you, Mr. Yao, I'm really grateful for your cooperation and support, what would I do without it--

[What an asshole. He reaches over the bar, tugging lightly at a stray bang that seems intent on sticking up a little.]

[moochobliged]

Haha— [No, that's his hair, stop it. He leans his elbows on the bar, ducking his head away from that offending tugging. Stop, he needs that.]

Don't call me Mr. Yao- it's weird coming from you.

[cupiditates]

Yes sir.

[That's no better, and also kind of embarrassing, maybe, given he's not bothering to say it quietly? But he seems not to care.]

How many people just call you Ling? Who don't work here.

[moochobliged]

[Ling waves his hand to dismiss that one, too; please no, "sir" is just as bad. He does a quick count, then-]

Less than five, depending on the day.

[cupiditates]

Who?

[His parents, presumably. That's two. Does he have friends? Greed honestly isn't certain. He ought to, it's not like he's got a shit personality-- Jesus, he's a ray of sunshine, he's cute and charming and bright, who wouldn't want to be his friend, damn-- but rich kids tend to be lonely. And Ling in particularly comes across as very, very lonely sometimes.]

[moochobliged]

My mother, first of all, [he's going to count these on his fingers, get ready.] And one of my cousins, but we don't see each other very much.

[That's two. Uh.]

My bodyguard, sometimes, when she's too frustrated with me to remember to call me "sir"! [hahaha cute right, anyway, he's given up] That's all I've got.

[cupiditates]

[The saddest three person list ever told . . . there's no pity or sympathy in Greed's gaze, of course, but still, he feels . . . some kind of something at the revelation that Ling only hears his first name at a sleazy bar in the shit side of town.]

Your bodyguard's a girl?

[. . . is what he says instead.]

[moochobliged]

[It's 2018 Greed, bodyguards can be anything!!]

Yes! We've known each other since we were young, and she doesn't like you at all.

[He's apparently very happy about this, more in the sense that they're both very special and so any intersection of the two of them is great. Also, it's funny.]

[cupiditates]

What the hell did you tell her about me?

[From someone else, that might have been indignant. From him, it's utterly delighted, and he laughs. This girl sounds . . . well, weird, honestly, what kind of woman fights, what the hell, but also: the best kinds of girls are the ones that are easily provoked.

(The best kinds of girls are ones that can kick his ass, but once again we see the divide between what Greed thinks he likes and what he really does).]

[moochobliged]

First she wanted to know why I came home smelling like liquor, the other week. So... everything.

[Ling, have a filter? Not likely. He's known Lan Fan far too long to tell her any less than every detail. She'd hound him extra intensely if he didn't, anyway.]

She thinks you're a bad influence, among other things.

[cupiditates]

I am a bad influence.

[He leans forward, resting his weight against the bar, fingers sliding lightly against the side of Ling's neck.]

I got you smoking, drinking . . . fighting, now, but I bet she won't mind that one so much.

You gonna tell her when you spend the night with me?

[moochobliged]

[Hmm, no, she'll mind touching his neck way more than she'll mind fighting lessons. Although the latter might just be grudging acceptance, what if this brute hurts him, etc etc.]

Probably. She'll figure it out if I don't come home, anyway.

[There's nowhere else he's likely to be, considering.]

[cupiditates]

[Well Ling what she doesn't know won't hurt her, huh, you ever consider that . . . he's wrapping his fingers around the back of his neck, thumb playing over his pulse.]

Sure she won't bust in my apartment and try and kill me for kidnapping you?

[moochobliged]

[Oh, yes, he likes that, leaning a little further forward. Somewhere, Lan Fan is twitching.]

Do I still get to go home with you if I say she might? She's dedicated!

[cupiditates]

That's kinda hot.

[Kind of hot of Lan Fan or kind of hot that he might wake up with a gun pointed to his head? Maybe both? Who knows with Greed. And he hadn't actually intended to fuck Ling tonight, but on the other hand, taking him home doesn't necessarily mean he's going to outright bed him. It just means they'll be extending the evening a little farther.]

C'mon. Take your shot, I'll drive.

[moochobliged]

[Consider cuddling him, he dressed up for this date and he wants at least one good hug for his efforts.]

You're not her type, [because not everybody wants to fuck who they fight, Greed. Let Lan Fan live her best life, because Ling certainly isn't letting her, running off with shady bartenders as he is. He tips the shot back- winces, makes a face like he'll cough, doesn't- and slides off the stool.

Look at him, so good at drinking. Let's roll!!]

[cupiditates]

Oh, come on, that was a sweet one--

[At least he didn't cough? That's . . . something, he supposes. Better than nothing. Ling's meticulously swept back hair (tied in a bun, god, he looks good like that) is once more mussed with, though not enough that it'll actually fall out of that style.

Greed's apartment is, perhaps surprisingly, not in the direction where things get really dicey. It's still not great, butt the Lexus probably won't get jacked overnight, so. Progress! The building itself is tall and, sadly, has no elevators, so it's a long five flights they climb, but . . . it's kind of worth the view.

It's a loft apartment, located at the very top. All one room, there's a bed and a shitty stove and a lot of neon signs and movie posters, and, oddly enough, a few cat toys. There's also a really beat up looking cat wandering around, or at least presumably there is, although right now it doesn't seem to be in sight.

Lights hang from the ceiling; he finds a remote somewhere and changes them from white to a warm, darker orange, dim and comfortable. The smell of cigarettes is dispelled by a fresh breeze from an open window; clothing, sweatpants and t-shirts and boxers, are gathered vaguely by a laundry basket.]

Home sweet home. You like it?

[Obviously he does. It's Greed's apartment. Women have flung themselves at him to see it.]

[moochobliged]

[Ling has the distinct impression, looking around Greed's apartment for the first time, that he's the only person in the city who sees a man's apartment and gets even more enamored with him. It isn't what he expected (it's not a sex dungeon), and he moves to take off his jacket rather than go around touching everything that catches his eye.

He is looking at everything very blatantly, though. Weird posters! Sweatpants! Marvelous!

Then when he sees a cat toy, he turns to beam at Greed. holy shit!!] You have a pet?

[cupiditates]

Ahhh, somebody left him at the bar, that's all. I don't blame them, he's a piece of shit and looks it, too. One ear, three legs, half a tail.

[THE WORST CAT EVER . . . who also, apparently, does not meow. That would be far too charming. Instead, from somewhere vaguely in the kitchen area: a loud, indignant bellow. A MEH of indignation; a shout that does not ask for food or comfort or love so much as complain as to why the owner isn't already receiving it.]

Don't pay him attention, it's what he wants.