#this is so unbelievably fucking good that it put me into a serious and sustained bout of imposter syndrome for this entire afternoon

[kaiserposting]

Michael Kaiser, Alexis Ness — Dog Walking

PAIRING: Michael Kaiser/Reader/Alexis Ness WORD COUNT: 3.2k TYPE: Humor, Bad flirting (it's so bad I don't know if i can call it flirting in good faith), Bad matchmaking (there was an attempt), Rivalry WARNING(S): Canon-typical football derangement, canon-typical behavior EDIT: This got a continuation, yay. And an add-on

Kaiser got it in his head that he has taken a liking to you. This is great and all, not like Ness is gritting his teeth and clenching his fists and getting angry or anything, but- okay, he is.

An obvious reason for his displeasure would be jealousy, but that’s not quite it. Ness thinks it would be entitled and insolent of him to feel any type of way about Kaiser’s personal affairs, so he hasn’t even entertained the notion. The problem is entirely different.

Just like everyone else in Blue Lock, you’re… Kaiser-opposed? Is that the right way to word it? Anyway, the point is, your shitty personality is making his job really hard. Which leads the three of you to this current situation.

“Ow! Ness, what the hell is your problem?!” you shriek, after having tripped and fell. The only reason your face isn’t attached to the floor fight now is because you softened the blow with your elbow.

“I didn’t mean it- I’m so sorry!”

“You didn’t mean it? You literally did it on purpose.”

This isn’t how it should’ve played out, though.

You were supposed to fall right into Kaiser’s arms, but you landed about a step away from him. They even practiced this routine with the others! Granted, no one agreed to it and was rather subjected to it whenever in Ness and Kaiser’s general vicinity, and, no, it didn’t work all the time, but they were just getting the hang of it. (Thankfully, no one sustained any serious injuries, apart from bearing some mental scars after hearing Kaiser say ‘Don’t go falling for me now’ in a wannabe suave tone.)

“Yeah, Ness, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Kaiser adds, before moving to crouch down and help you with a smidge of concern in his expression.

Ness’s eyes widen at the betrayal. Kaiser is such a fake bitch sometimes. Not like he’s going to do anything about it, or even that he minds, but seriously? No shame or decorum is on display here.

You don’t buy it, slapping his hands away. “I bet you put him up to it,” you say, before standing up all by yourself. Then you twist your leg around back and forth for a bit, as if to check how well it’s working, before you eventually lift it high up in the air. “Listen, you tie-dyed toerags.”

Ness flinches because what kind of way to address someone is this? Kaiser crosses his arms, shiteating grin receding into a little frown.

“I’m at my most divine when scoring a goal. You see this?” Your foot is now hovering near their faces while you stretch. This… What is it? A flex? A display? Whatever it is that you’re doing right now, Ness finds it unnerving. “It’s what I use to score. If you did something to take that ability away from me, you’d get pretty bad karma, you know? Angels would cry. Believe me.”

Ness tugs on Kaiser’s sleeve — to remind him he’s supposed to respond instead of just stare at you with a blank, creepy look on his face — and, as filler, says, “You’re very, um, flexible.”

“Yeah,” you say, moving into an even more convoluted position. “I have many attractive qualities. Deserving of being a superstar ace, you know? Dump Kaiser. Pass to me. You’re way too good to play second fiddle, Ness. With me, you won’t be stuck in a Tweedlecum and Tweedlepee dynamic.”

“What?! You- you- you, you, you, yooooou-?! What are you talking about?! I’d never betray him! I’m not joining your circus, clown! Unbelievable! Learn your place already. You never learn,” Ness says in a jumble. For some reason, he’s more offended than Kaiser is.

Here’s the thing about you — you’re insane. A has-an-interesting-psychological-file type of crazy. A hollow-inner-world type of crazy.

A Ness-loves-it type of crazy, as objectionable as he is acting to your offer.

“Calm down. No need to get your panties in a twist over some shitty trash talk,” says Kaiser, placing his hand on Ness’s head, forcing him to lower himself in a slight bow in front of you. Finally, you quit your bizarre movements and assume a more proper stance, while Kaiser leans in closer to you, shifting his gaze in your direction. This leaves Ness to watch you two engage in a round of charged glaring… again. Which is always compromising, but then Kaiser has to run his fingers through his hair, too. “You’re just like a chihuahua that hasn’t warmed up to its owner yet. Your barking doesn’t faze me.”

Your eye twitches at the analogy, face scrunching in an ugly way. “The hell did you just say to me? If I catch you somewhere Ego can’t see me, I’ll give you the beating of a lifetime.”

Instead of responding in a normal way, Kaiser points his finger in your face, almost poking you, twirls it around in a circle, which makes you furrow your brows even harder if possible as you scrutinize him like he’s a lower life form.

“See? Doesn’t bite. Totally harmless,” Kaiser says with a lilt of amusement. Then he swings an arm around Ness’s shoulders and turns him around before pulling him along so they can get away from you.

His tone is convincing enough to give off the impression of winning this verbal spat. However, Ness can’t help but notice that they’re speed walking.

___

When Ness turns around, you’re leaning on the bench with your foot, elbow resting on your knee. He lets out an undignified scream, taking a step back, startled, and even drops his water bottle. “Don’t sneak up on me like that! How come you didn’t make a noise? What are you?”

Kaiser regards the commotion with not even a sliver of curiosity and instead grins after nodding at you in greeting. “Look who came crawling back searching for my company, Ness.”

“I was thinking about that stuff you told me yesterday,” you say.

“Really? And what thrilling conclusion did you come to?” he asks, with sarcastic emphasis on the word ‘thrilling.’

“I’m going to spend my points from goals on taking a day off. Come along with me and we’re gonna fight, preferably in front of a big audience that can watch me humiliate you. By the way, it's a duel, so you can’t decline.”

“Wow, you’re asking me out on a date? Since when are you so adorable? I guess I just can’t reject you when you’re being vulnerable.”

“No one likes delusional men, Kaiser. I’d rather embalm myself and then desecrate my own corpse.”

Kaiser appears to find this amusing or in some way adjacent to flirting because his smile becomes a touch more irritating, but also a bit incredulous. “Crazy fucking bastard. You’ve got unique ways of pretending you’re not into me, though. It’s entertaining.”

“Your mouth is like a dirty urinal. You swear like a preteen who just found out what sixty-nine means, worry about that.”

Kaiser stares at you in shock, jaw hanging slightly open. In your head, you consider this a huge win, since it’s the first time you’ve visibly put him off.

“Keep gaping at me, I might just take a piss.”

“H-How dare you?!” Ness lunges at you, and the only thing to stop him from strangling you on live television — sensational, you like it — is the fact that Kaiser is holding him back by the collar. You find the sight of him swiping his fists in the air vaguely adorable. “How can you say these things? Just in general, let alone to Kaiser?”

You observe him in mild surprise for a second and the sincerity in your expression makes it all the more infuriating when you ask, “Oh, you’re still here?”

___

For once in his life, Ness is being very assertive. At least that’s what you think while he drags you over to their side of the cafeteria, fingers curling tight enough around your wrist to probably disturb your blood circulation.

Kaiser pulls out a chair for you when you come into view, then Ness shoves you so you’re sitting, and Kaiser pushes it back in, causing you to almost double over the table. Ness slides over some kind of fancy meal you can’t even identify in front of you. Kaiser leans down, his hair brushing against you, and then he reaches around your shoulder to aggressively stab one of the slices with a fork. With a perhaps demented smile, he declares, “We’re going to talk about strategy today,” before taking the seat next to yours.

“We’re not going to talk about strategy because I’m not one of your groupies,” you say, picking up on the conversation with ease.

Ness plops down on your other side, apparently having decided he has enough authority to lecture you. “No, no, no! This isn’t working. Isagi does whatever he wants, Kunigami does whatever he wants, you do whatever you want. It’s pure chaos on the field! No synergy! It doesn’t make any sense!”

“Join us. If you’re not following,” Kaiser adds, his arm finally receding away from you, “this is a compliment. You’re the one best suited for me, which is a big honor.”

“I have a way better idea. How about I continue doing whatever I want, and by the end of this Neo Egotist League ordeal, you two and everyone else you mentioned sing my name in a choir?”

“Ungrateful,” Ness mutters, petulant.

Kaiser grins, mocking, but also intrigued. “Are you still hanging onto the high of that goal against Barcha? Your ego is unhinged and, honestly, you’re not doing yourself any favors. Your type is always the most fun to break.”

Like he’s any different?

The score you landed, though — the one Kaiser is referencing — was what sparked his interest. You jumped in and stole the pass Isagi meant for Kunigami, securing the point right under their noses. Then, you faced Kaiser and took him by the chin like he’d done to Isagi on arrival, and even imitated his introduction, “On your knees, Bastard München,” with inconceivable amounts of smugness.

It was… interesting. Outlandish. A first. Ness berated you and Isagi together, but you kind of walked away in the middle of it without a care.

Here’s the other detail which is keeping Ness’s sanity intact (not like he’s renowned for his mental stability, but): Kaiser taking a liking to you isn’t necessarily a good thing, even if he’s treating you differently than the other competitors. It doesn’t say anything positive about your character, isn’t in any way sentimental — it’s more as if someone held up a mirror in front of him and he began obsessing over his reflection.

“I’m big and you’re small. That’s why you can’t tame me,” you say.

“He’s taller than you!” Ness defends.

“Did the voices in your head tell you that?” Kaiser asks you, and he does not acknowledge Ness’s meager attempt to upkeep his honor.

“I mean it. You think you can brute force everything and bend it to your version of reality. That’s fragile. I don’t mind falling from a high place. It kind of appeals to me, actually, you know, crawling back up, but more beautiful.”

The corners of his lips turn up in a manner you interpret as more baleful than usual. “I don’t know if you’re big or if I’m small or whatever you wanna call it, but what I know for sure is that you’re a melodramatic jerk off.”

“Anyway,” you stand up, taking the plate as you do so, “you don’t think often, so I won’t blame you for calling my internal monologue a hallucination. You can’t help it. Bye.”

___

The locker room is an environment you find ripe for picking fights in. Especially when everyone is tired after a practice match. At least the place is free of anyone besides your usual targets.

“Ness,” you say upon approaching them — they’re always together, it almost seems codependent — and then take a hold of his hand, all beguiling. Kaiser scoffs, apparently not interested in getting into it with you this once, while Ness stares at you doe-eyed. “I think it’s about time you get some dignity.”

“What kind of opening line is that?!” he asks, expression shifting from bashful to irritated.

“He’s just been even more awful to you lately and you’re still attached to his asshole like you’re a part of the human centipede.”

“You made fun of me for swearing, but look at the shit you’re saying right now.”

“I do it sparingly and with style. Please stop trying to compete where you don’t compare.” After a dismissive glance towards Kaiser, you turn your attention back to Ness, letting go of his hand to wrap an arm around his waist. “Anyway, the point is, he’s not acting very appreciative of your talent. I could treat you so much better if you passed to me. We don’t even need to entirely exclude him or anything, I’m a tolerant person.”

“I can see and appreciate Ness’s talent just fine. He’ll stay by my side no matter what.” Ness blushes because that’s kind of an intense statement to make out of nowhere? Kaiser’s fingers curl around his jawline before he pushes Ness’s head into his shoulder. “And I’m going to add you to the roster while I’m at it.”

What the fuck is even going on? Maybe the delusions of grandeur you and Kaiser seem to suffer from are becoming contagious, but it sounds like you two are fighting… over HIM? A more well-adjusted person would probably find this objectifying or otherwise demeaning, but Ness, mostly because of who he is — terminally unwanted — wonders if he’s in heaven right now.

Then again, Ness isn’t an idiot. His ignorance is willful. There’s a cap to the nonsense even he is willing to tolerate. So he lets this feeling of I’ve-never-been-happier linger for a little, your bickering fading into background noise, before he squirms away from both of you.

“I’m tired of how you guys are acting,” he calls over his shoulder.

Kaiser is gawking again. You let out an amused whistle, as if you find this development pleasing, before forcing Kaiser’s jaw closed.

“Don’t talk to me… for the rest of the day,” Ness continues, before leaving. His resolve ends on a weak note, but oh well.

“What the hell? Did Ness just reject me?” Kaiser asks, slapping off your pesky hand. “First you don’t want me, now even Ness doesn’t want me. I’m sick of this wretched place. Everything is all out of whack here.”

You burst out laughing. “Are your sensitive little feelings unable to handle a few hours without him?”

“Shut up,” says Kaiser. There isn’t enough bite in it.

“I can tell whatever tantrum you’re about to have is gonna give me secondhand embarrassment, so I’m gonna go as well.”

You’re not prepared for Kaiser to slam you into the locker and cage you in with his arms. Some vein you don’t know the name of looks very pronounced on his forehead, and you don’t think it’s supposed to be doing that?

You roll your eyes. “Take the hint, your machismo shtick isn’t doing it for me.”

“I’m not trying to make a move on you, shithead. I’m sick of your outrageous attitude as well. What the fuck is wrong with you? You’re always leaving in the middle of conversations, even ones you initiated. Do you know how rude that is? No one ever taught you some fucking manners? What’s your home life like?”

Ignoring whatever he’s even talking about — it’s going in one ear and out of the other as usual — you trail your hands over his shoulders.

“Stop trying to distract me. I’m listing out all of your personality defects.” He’s not really putting up a fight, though, doesn’t even shrug you off when you move onto caressing his neck. “We’re arguing,” Kaiser says, before leaning in to complete the kiss you were trying to pull him into, and finally his hands drop to rest on your waist.

The contact doesn’t last long, since you take the chance to side step him and swap your positions, before you push him into the locker like he’d done to you.

“Little bitch,” you say with a sneer, and then you dash towards the exit, offering a flippant wave. “I leave whenever I want to.”

What the hell!

___

“You’re unforgivable!” says Ness. What did you even do to deserve this attitude right before breakfast? “Stop messing with Kaiser’s head!”

Oh yeah, you did do that. You almost forgot.

“Good morning to you, too. Sleep well?”

Ness crosses his arms and taps his foot. He’s not very good at being intimidating, at least in a visual sense, you think. He has a total babyface. “You’re going to apologize. You’re gonna grovel for Kaiser’s forgiveness.”

“Sure, I take hurt feelings very seriously. Answer these questions for me, so I can apologize better later. Which ear were the words of hurtfulness spoken into? Is the damage he suffered permanent? Did he require a tissue for his tears?”

“I- I- I- I?!?! You piss me off so much. I don’t have the patience for this.” Ness pinches the bridge of his nose as if he needs to soothe himself after exchanging a couple of sentences with you.

“If he doesn’t have a mommy to hug him,” you continue without much of an inflection, “we can look for a surrogate.”

With uncharacteristic vice, he squeezes your shoulders, and he’s gritting his teeth, and you think he really might kill you. Maybe not right now, but at some point, this man is going to take your life. “What’s your problem? You’re a nobody, so why are you so high maintenance? Kaiser is rich, handsome, successful, and a football genius. What more could you possibly want in a boyfriend?”

“Wow,” you say, astonishment at something indeterminate apparent on your face.

Ness waits for you to elaborate, but you don’t, instead opting to scrutinize him in silence. “What? Don’t just say wow and then leave it at that. How can someone be so difficult?”

Your expression shifts into something meaner, then, a mocking raise of your eyebrows, a lop-sided but meaningless smile. “It’s just kind of amazing. You can’t help but ride Kaiser’s dick even while trying to guide it inside of me.”

“Wh-huh… What?!” Ness screeches, scandalized. “How… How crude? You're a vulgar moron! Totally indecent! That’s what you are!”

“I mean, can you blame me for being jealous of that kind of attention? You can do crazy tricks on it.”

“Why are you saying those kinds of things to me?! S-Something’s not right with you.”

You reach out and squish Ness’s cheeks together, leaving his lips to pucker, and you can feel his skin burning. “You’re an amusing guy, Ness. I haven’t decided if I find you pathetic or endearing yet, but I like it.” Then you let go of him as casually as you grabbed him, intending to continue on your merry way.

There are footsteps hurrying after you. “Admit your love to Kaiser already.”

Love? A frightening laugh rattles you. Your body jerks upright and you feel like an evil spirit was just exorcised out of you with how unexpected your reaction was, even to you.

“I know you can’t resist his charms. No one can.”

Kaiser’s… charms? You knew it, he’s trying to kill you.

“And- and- and!!! You’re going to play on our side against Ubers, and you’re going to like it.”

You’re borderline in hysterics now, stomach hurting.

“Stop walking away from me! Are you even listening? You should really listen when people talk to you!”

___

Im still loopy so presented without comment. Feel free to tell me wat you thikn the worst line from this abomination is

[maryelizapink]

My unhealed parent just, stating this like a fact. Narcissistic parenting. Textbook.

Just suggested, this morning when i just woke up. And in the context of everything,

Was so tone deaf… and egocentric like, can’t see past themselves, can’t truly empathize for me

She literally just said to my face, that i should do ‘all the cooking’ like go get the meals, prepare them,

Slave. For them! Not for me, for them. Yes. You fucking heard that right.

Me: “i need help, i need mental treatment”

Them: “cook for us! Yay!”

What the fuck????

And like I’m always the only one aware of the emotional gravity of a situation and what it means

When i try to express it to other people they just tell me to stop complaining. Which like, i understand.

But yeah, its like, i have to pay someone to be sympathetic. But that isn’t, going to heal me or help me like ‘live with this’ or ‘overcome this’

I’m on a serious long mental health journey… and instead of giving me 15 dollars at a time to buy coffee and waffles

They…. Don’t take care of me, they discard me, they put me on the back burner in every possible sense, and then at the end of it

Expect me to be fine, to be in a good mood, to be fully functioning and thriving, self sustaining, and perfect, in every way they imagine they wanted and always pleasing them

And on top of that, now i have to cook for you. Because she and i quote ‘was thinking about these meals i had at a hotel and waking up to hot breakfast it was really nice’

Well if u want an in-house chef, you don’t abuse someone into being into a position so weak you can control me to do whatever you want for you like i have no choice but to please you

This is actually fucking disgusting and out of touch with reality

Everyone wants me to be their fucking slave

I don’t, i haven’t felt free, in years. It’s unbelievable

How greatly it saddens me how I’ve been treated, the atrocities that many have faced,

How can we heal these gaping wounds in society that never stop bleeding

How do we heal from narcissists how do we survive in a world being suffocated of its life and devoid of its meaning

Forced into loneliness, by the demonic entities ruling the world

I feel so powerless, i can barely, speak up

And if you do, i mean, they’ll just silence you. Christina Grimmie mysteriously shot… to death. Like John Lennon.

The only thing you can do is keeep your head down and play along, don’t say a word, and hope you make it somewhere safe

I’m tired of living in survival mode while the rest of the western world lives in delusion land i can’t afford to be a part of

Not because i can’t afford it but because it makes me fucking sick and i want nothing to do with it

I’m supposed to stand up and say all of this, why.

To who.

What fucking for.

[nadisabug]

Thinking of You

Pairing: Giyuu Tomioka x reader

Warnings: swears, Giyuu would say fuck fight me on this, blunt Giyuu, oblivious reader, very oblivious, one wound thats pretty bad but it turns out okay i promise!

Summary: You’re on a mission with your new partner when he sustains an injury for an unbelievable reason.

A/N: ahhh thank you!!! that means so much to me!! I am so insecure about my writing but I am glad you like it!!!! also this was such a cute prompt I loved writing for it. I know there’s a lot of bad stuff going on in the news right now but hopefully this takes your mind off of it for even just a second <3 ily and enjoy! 

EDIT: also all the credit for the prompt to @missmorosis​!!!! thank you for the amazing prompts!!!!!!!!

Demon Slayer Masterlist

With a well placed swing of my sword, I decapitated the demon in one blow. The move was only possible thanks to my partner for this mission, Giyuu, but I was the one who finished her off. 

We had been fighting this demon for quite some time, and spent even longer tracking her. She was very elusive. But now that she was gone, the village had no more worries. 

I flicked my sword to clean it, then sheathed it at my side. I turned to Giyuu, smiling at him, but he didn’t smile back. Quite normal behavior from him, until he went and collapsed to the ground.

“Giyuu!” I yelled and rushed to his side. I looked him over and found out that his thigh had an incredibly deep cut, mostly likely from the demon’s claws. I immediately put pressure on it, pressing my hands to his thigh. “How did this happen?” I cried, feeling extremely guilty. We were supposed to be a team that helped each other and here my teammate was, bleeding out on the ground. “You were fine a second ago, what happened?”

“Fuck,” Giyuu muttered, propping himself up on his arms. He scooted back so that his back was against a nearby tree and I followed him, applying pressure all the while. When it was clear that Giyuu had nothing more to say, I got to work on his leg. 

I pulled his hands over to apply pressure while I rolled up his pant leg. I took off my kimono and began to shred it. I was left in nothing but a thin tank top and pants, but I had bigger worries than that right now. The cut was pretty deep, and was steadily leaking blood. I had literally no tools at my disposal to stop the bleeding other than my shredded kimono. I placed wads of it at the cut and then tied them tightly. I waited a second to see if the pressure stopped the bleeding, but when a crimson red began to stain the fabric of my kimono, I knew otherwise. 

“Shit!” I quickly pulled out another strip and started to make a tourniquet out of it. It was a risky last ditch move, but judging from Giyuu’s face, he couldn’t stand to lose much more blood. I secured the tourniquet quickly, effectively stopping the blood flow to his leg. “Okay, okay, okay,” I muttered like a mad man and stood up. I held out my arms for Giyuu to take, which he did, albeit groggily. “The town is five minutes away, we should be able to get you to a doctor in time to cauterize the wound so you don’t lose your leg.”

The sentence sent my stomach askew. How could this have happened? He was a Hashira for goodness sake, how did he sustain such a serious wound? I couldn’t remember him diving in or anything, but maybe that was the problem. I wasn’t focusing enough on my partner and know here we were. 

I hauled Giyuu up, pulling his injured right side to my left. I wrapped his right arm around my shoulders and began to pull him along. He was heavy, I would admit, built entirely of muscle he probably trained years to get. 

I was relatively new Slayer, still on watch from the higher ups. That’s why I had to take a partner on this mission, to make sure I could handle it on my own. I was surprised when Giyuu volunteered to go with me, seeing as we haven’t talked much. It was also a bit hard for me seeing that I had this huge crush on him. It was always hard for me to focus around him, so that may have been part of the issue.

So in all, if it wasn’t for me being so new and an absolutely terrible partner, Giyuu wouldn’t be in danger of losing his leg. 

“I,” I stammered then steeled myself for what I was going to say. “I’m sorry, this is all my fault.”

“Yeah,” Giyuu lifted up his head to meet me with those serious eyes. “It is.”

Wow. Way to make me feel better. 

“If I could just stop thinking about you, I wouldn’t have been so distracted-”

Wait. What? 

“You- you think about me?” That was the only thing that could come out of my mouth at that moment. I was so taken aback by his blatant confession that I didn’t know what else to say. 

Still staring into my eyes, he responded. “Well, duh. 24/7.”

I didn’t know what to say. He seemed so... serious. Not that Giyuu was the joking type it was just... he meant it. He really just told me he thought about me 24/7 and thought nothing of it. Nothing at all. It couldn’t be in a romantic way, could it?

I stomped that thought out immediately. It had to be the blood loss. 

“No you don’t,” I scoffed and looked away. I picked up my pace, dragging him a little further. 

“Yeah, I do. I think about you smiling or your hair-” he stopped to reach out and touch my hair. “So soft...”

Okay, it was the blood loss. 

“I was so worried you would get hurt that I made a mistake, honestly quite stupid.” 

“You were... worried about me?” I asked and glanced over to him. I looked back at the forest before us after, noting that it was thinning out. I could almost see the village from here. 

“I always worry about you,” he responded factually. He scrunched his nose up, “It scares me when you fight, and nothing usually scares me.”

He was delusional. He had to be. There was no other explanation. 

“No way,” I said more to myself than to him. “You’re lying.”

“Really, Y/n? I’m lying?” He scoffed. “Maybe I’m being a bit open, but I am not a liar.”

“Okay then tell me later when you’re not delusional from blood loss, okay?”

“Fine.”

“Fine.”

We lapsed into silence after that, hobbling to the town. Once we got there, the townsfolk immediately welcomed us in and gave Giyuu medical treatment. Luckily, because the town was so close, Giyuu did not lose his leg and ended up being fine. I ended up taking him to the Butterfly house to recuperate, the whole way we did not speak. I dropped him off and left soon after, called on another mission. 

It was months before we saw each other again, and I had forgotten about our promise in the forest all that time ago. I was at the Butterfly house on business when he approached me in a hallway. I was just heading to bed when he pulled me to the side and spoke to me. 

“Y/n,” he called. I stopped and let him catch up until we were face to face. The hallway was dim, the only light from a few small windows letting in the moonlight. 

“Giyuu. How’s the leg?” I asked, a pang of guilt hitting me. 

“Better.” 

The tension between us was thick, permeating the air and making it feel stale warm.

“I thought about you everyday,” he whispered softly. “Everyday. I was so worried about you, if you were going to be okay without me.”

“Liar,” I whispered back. 

He took a step forward, looming over me. “Am I?” 

I stared at him until I couldn’t take it anymore. I looked to the ground and took a step back, my face hot. “Okay well, so what if you’re not lying I’m not sure what you’re trying to accomplish here.”

Giyuu laughed. “And Mitsuri says I am dense.” He took another step forward and lightly took my chin and angled it upwards. “I like you. Do you like me?” He said bluntly. 

Absolutely speechless, I just nodded. In response, Giyuu smiled. The sight filled my heart with warmth. 

And then he leaned down and kissed me.

Taglist:

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[fairycosmos]

I need to tell my psychiatrist that I'm addicted to sleeping meds but I also don't want him to stop prescribing me my sleeping medication. I don't know what to do, really ://

i am so sorry you're going through this :( but i think you know what you need to do even if it is in conflict with what you want to do. i fully appreciate that it is unbelievably difficult to even attempt to do the right thing, and i am not trying to undermine that at all - but even the fact that you have the self awareness to know that you have a problem is a really good sign. this is not a sustainable way to live. it's a cycle where you just keep needing more nd more to feel somewhat ok, eventually theres no high or benefit at all. and in the meantime you're losing yourself and your health and your life. it wont end until you demand that it does. i think your psychiatrist will probably end up noticing you have an issue eventually anyway. so it is just much better to actively seek out recovery now, while you still can, rather than waiting for that rock bottom moment. because god knows what the fuck thats going to look like, and it is never ever worth it. please talk to your psychiatrist, or at least seriously consider it for now. they may be able to help put you in touch with a therapist or a drug counselor or a support group in your area, that can help you examine why this began and what you can do about it. it's not a quick fix and ofc there will be bad days, but it's something. you can learn how to implement positive coping mechanisms into your daily routine that will prevent relapse, and then you wont have to worry about this anymore. addiction rewires the brain, but so does professional help. and it really really wont be as scary as your mind is building it up to be. being honest with yourself and those around you, and beginning to seek out a support network are two of the absolute best steps you can take right now. i would also encourage you to talk to someone you trust about whats going on, if you can. the absolute hardest part is making the initial desicion to do any of this. but it's what stops the spiral. you deserve so much more than what youre dealing with right now. and i am absolutely rooting for you to grow beyond this and into a healthier place, mentally and physically. you are worth the world. much love x

*not that i think you will, but i just feel the urge to add that you should never ever seek out street drugs or replace your sleeping meds with ANYTHING that is not offically prescribed to you, im serious. not to be too blunt but idk how else to say it, it'll literally kill you before you've even had time to notice.

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[snoppdoog]

"Yeah capitalism is bad but (completely overlooks the reasons capitalism is bad, spreads the capitalist myth that people must labour for hours on end for basic necessities such as food and shelter, basically suggests poor people are undeserving of "handouts")" like are you serious

sweetie, you are literally so out of line it's fucking unbelievable. i could drag you so hard right now but i know you'll just end up crying. i've roasted you before and you know it. chances are you’ll just say i bullied you because you’re gay and have different skin. talk shit get hit, you don’t wanna mess with me kiddo: i’ve got a black belt.

Seriously tho sweetie if you look back through my tumblr you’ll probably see dozens of anti-capitalist reblogs, I’m staunchly anti-capitalist. I still mean what I said on that original post, the one about not wanting to have to go to work to sustain one’s livelihood, which is what I’m guessing is the comment you’re repling to, anon. Just because I’m about the proletariat siezing the means of production doesn’t mean I then advocate putting down those tools and sitting around on our asses expecting someone else will pick up the slack. Marxist critique of capitalism is about the worker being alienated from the fruits of his labour, with the resulting generated surplus value going to the bourgeoisie business owner who reaps the most benefits. But if everyone was like op who doesn’t want to lift a goddamn finger and blames it on capitalism then there is no resultant products or services to speak of.

What could we do? We revolusionise our socioeconomic model to give the power back to the majority proletariat middle class worker. If we stick with capitalism for now, then it’s about actually enforcing corperate taxes. A progressive income tax that exponentially goes up the more you earn, to the point where we essentially tax billionares out of existence. Using those taxes to rebuild national infrastructure, provide high quality essential services and provide an adequate safety net for everyone which effectively ends homelessness, poverty and economic destotution. Worker owned corporatives, no more CEO’s. And so on and so forth.

Or we get rid of capitalism all together and instill a new model. Sounds great in practise, harder to pull of logistically. Doesn’t mean it can’t be done. I’m just not a smart enough person to come up with one right now.

The problem is that, until we get to some idealistic future scenario where all necessary, life-sustaining products and services are completely automated such as food production, housing and healthcare, humans have to in part provide those things for themselves and others in their communities. Everyone has to pull their weight. If someone is unwell or unable, the sum of the community’s efforts help sustain that person/s. I am fully aware that poverty largely affects the people of colour, the disabled, the mentall ill etc: the minority classes. I know poverty is largely generational and we are no way close to addressing this. We have to. But I also know people who, perhaps similar to op’s sentiments, feel like the world owes them everything and that they owe the world squat. Someone who wants everything and gives nothing. I’ve had people who’ve told me personally they’re conned their way into social security payments so they can buy designer threads, feigned mental illness to get ADHD medication (ie legalised meth) and all this while simultaneously bragging they’re gonna milk the system whilst complaining about that exact capitalist system and feeling like this was all owed to them. Now, these sorts of narcissists who take advantage of others will always exist. In fact, it probably makes up a large majority of CEO’s. But it is not strictly the fault of capitalism. I just feel that these days, the large majority of people in the West feel like they are entitled to luxury, whilst being blissfully ignorant or just plain not caring that much of our way of life results from the explotation of POC, migrants, developing nations and ultimately mother nature. Capitalism is the current guise in which we shroud our desire for luxury and excuse exploitation.

Existentially, I think humans have an innate desire to produce to feel a sense of purpose anyway. Very likely not by sitting on a factory production line, but being useful in our own unique way. An idealistic socioeconomic model provides our basic needs and inspires the best in us, for our own personal satisfaction as well as an altruistic desire to better our communities in whatever individual way we can. Running a successful bakery that makes the best croissants in town, stemming from fond memories of your dad buying you one one on the way to school. An architect creating beautiful houses because she’s passionate about good design and loves making people feel at home. A musician who can channel his pain and desires into his craft and others willing and comfortably able to fund his art because they feel the same way. A society that elevates the best aspects of each other, where nobody has the fear of losing their house because their job has been shipped to a developing country where their former employer can exploit the labour market there, or people dying because they can’t afford their medical bills. All this still necessitates people who have useful labour to provide. People who sit at home watching netflix and tumblr blogging all day whilst complaining about the system have very little to offer.

So tldr: no I don’t think the poor and the disadvataged are underserving of help. I am a huge advocate of economic equity. I abhore capitalism in its present form, and think we need a new socioeconomic system. Modern technology and industry is currently at a place where people don’t have to labour unnecessarily just to survive. But to think we can all do nothing and still have our needs provided, or feel fulfilment, is an idiotic assertion.

[ruinedbynegan]

Closer: Chapter 7

The first thing that I saw were stars.

Above me, were the constellations, swirling in beautiful patterns, the full moon illuminating the night sky. For a moment, I twirled slowly in a circle, taking it all in. I had always been enthralled with space, specifically because it was unknown. The number of galaxies, the planets that could sustain life…it was all so enchanting to me. And then I came back down to earth, taking in my surroundings. I looked to the sides of me, realizing I was on a roof, probably several stories from the ground. Immediately, my eyes went the only source of light—multiple candles arranged on a dining room table, which looked like it had been set with plates and silverware. The scent of food hit me not long after, making my mouth water and my stomach turn. But it wasn’t long until my senses were claimed by another scent. Whiskey, gunpowder, wolf…

Negan.

He was standing a few feet away from the table, his eyes intent on mine, silently beckoning me to move closer to him. And I began to cross the roof, moving towards him like a moth to a flame.

My inner voice was screaming. Here I was, in some unknown location, walking towards what appeared to be a moonlit dinner with an alpha wolf. What the ever loving fuck was I doing? I took an unsteady breath, convincing myself that I needed to play the part if I wanted to get out of here.

Negan’s eyes never left mine as I moved to him, crinkling in the corners from the large grin plastered on his face. He began to take me in, and I allowed myself to do the same. He was dressed in the same leather jacket ensemble from before, minus the scarf and gloves. In that moment, I realized that something about him took my breath away, something in my gut that told me I wouldn’t get tired of looking at him.

Even now, on what appeared to be our first date, he still had Lucille gripped loosely in his right hand. I felt certain at the fact he wasn’t going to use her on me, knowing she was more of a quirk for him than anything. For a moment, I couldn’t help but wonder the backstory of his prized possession, wanting to ask him about her. But I made a mental note to ask him another time. There were more pressing matters at hand.

Like the fact that he claimed me as his mate.

Something surged inside of me when I was standing less than a foot away from him, something that made me want to close the distance between us. But I ignored it. For a moment, we stared each other down, my face neutral, his shit eating grin plastered on his, both waiting for the other to speak first. He raised his eyebrows at me, eyes twinkling, challenging me. Then, his eyes moved down to my outfit, his face not giving anything away. The way he was staring at me made me feel rather naked, so I crossed my arms around my chest, which made Negan’s attention go back to my face.

“Good choice, doll,” he finally said. “Good fucking choice. Although, I would have loved to see you in that little black lace number, but hey, maybe that’s best saved for another time,” he said, winking.

I couldn’t help but find myself sighing in relief at his statement about my clothes. It made me feel oddly confident that I could maybe figure out this man in front of me. After mentally congratulating myself, I realized that he was looking at me, waiting for me to speak.

“Why did you bring me here?” I asked, my voice surprisingly steady.

He chuckled. “Straight down to business, huh doll? If you insist…but trust me, this conversation is gonna be a hell of a lot more fun over dinner and drinks. What do you say?” He asked.

“Sure,” I said, trying my best to hide my reluctance. I was in the unknown with an alpha, but I knew that the only way I was going to get out of this was if I played along. Taking a deep breath, I walked past him and over to the table, choosing on of the chairs. Before I could pull it out, Negan beat me to it, and I lifted my eyebrows in surprise at his chivalrous behavior.

“Thanks,” I said, giving him a small smile.

“Don’t mention it, princess,” he said, while taking the seat on the opposite side of the table, leaning his bat on the table near him. In front of us were plates covered with a silver tin, a bottle of wine nestled in the middle of the table amongst the candles. Everything started coming together. The candles, the wine, the food that smelled amazing, the privacy of the rooftop.

Negan was trying to romance me.

Why? And would I let him?

“So…” I said, deciding that I was going to start this conversation. He smirked at me.

“Soooo…” he said, drawing out the word. I couldn’t help but smile.

“So why did you bring me here?” I asked once again, trying to sound serious.

He shook his head. “All in due time, baby girl. But first, let’s eat!” He pulled his cover off of his plate, revealing his food. It looked like it was chicken, with a side of mashed potatoes and vegetables. He picked up his fork and began eating. Sighing quietly, I followed his lead, closing my eyes and moaning quietly at the taste of the food. It was completely delicious. A laugh brought me out of my haze and I opened my eyes to find Negan staring at me.

“Good, ain’t it?” He asked. I nodded my head.

“You a wine drinker?” He continued.

I shrugged. “I’m not much of a drinker, but that’s fine,” I said truthfully. Years of being the designated driver and my brother’s problem was the reason for my aversion to alcohol. I reached out to grab the bottle, but Negan’s hand was there first, popping the cork and filling my glass halfway before doing the same to his. I allowed myself to take a sip. Yeah, definitely not a wine drinker, but perhaps being intoxicated would make this whole thing easier.

We continued eating in silence, Negan stealing glances at me, and me adverting my eyes every time he did so. He made me uncomfortable. I wasn’t scared of him, no…I was nervous, but in the way that a girl was nervous around her crush during their first date. It was both unexpected and odd. I had never really been interested in boys until college, dating casually here and there, not really caring if nothing lasted. After that, I didn’t bother dating; taking care of my brother and working full time took away all my energy. Sitting here in front of Negan, I couldn’t help but compare him to the boys I had dated. They were completely inadequate compared to him. And Negan was far from being a college boy…no, he was one hundred percent man.

It terrified me…but somewhere deep down, hidden in the part of me that I didn’t like to admit the existence of, it excited me too.

Finally, we had finished our food and drained our glasses. Noticing my empty glass, Negan gestures towards the bottle and I shook my head. He proceeded by pouring himself another glass.

“Alright Carson,” he paused to take a sip of wine before continuing. “Now that we’re done with our grub, let’s get down to the fun stuff. But before we start, let’s get two thing clear,” he said, leaning forward, his eyes boring into mine.

“One: You’re a hell of a girl, Carson. I’d expect a girl as goddam gorgeous as you to have screamed at the sight of…well, Chester and Jay’s noggins outside of their heads. But you didn’t. No, you’re such a badass, you took Lucille, held her like a fuckin’ pro, and bashed Jay’s head in. Yeah, you fainted after, but hey, it was pretty rigorous work!”

He leaned forward, putting both elbows on the table, taking me in.

“And two: Well, you already know two. Because I already told you. You’re my mate. Hell, I always thought that mates was some hocus pocus crap, but from the moment I saw you…I knew.

I gulped. “Knew what?” It barely came out a whisper.

He smiled, but it wasn’t as cocky as usual. It was genuine, filled with an emotion that I couldn’t decipher.

“That you’re it. You are the only woman I’m ever going to want. And oh, do I want you, Carson. In every way fuckin’ possible. I want you to be mine.”

This was all too much. Sitting here in front of this man, everything that he was saying…it was unbelievable and completely insane. But was it unwarranted?

“So that’s why I brought you here! To try and woo you, hearts and flowers and candles and shit. So tell me, Carson Gardner…would you do me the honor of becoming one of my wives?”

[deepspacepirate]

Director Orson Krennic: a character analysis

(Or, a rebuke to a post that got way out of hand, and I ended up dumping literally every thought I have about Krennic, so I decided to make it into its own independent meta.)

Yes, Krennic’s a poor guy who just wants some respect and never seems to catch a break. But he’s also a ruthless and Machiavellian narcissist with a dastardly sense of fashion. One doesn’t negate the other. His character is an interplay of both.

Krennic doesn’t come from the same posh background as other imperial officers and faces much classicism as a result. It’s undeniable that he is incredibly ambitious. He had to be in order to get to his position, both in the Republic Corps of Engineers and as the Director of Advanced Weapons research (aka the Death Star), in the face of much resistance. It’s quite admirable, really, and he sees it as a source of pride as well. Everybody loves a rags to riches story.

His bombast, ego, ambition, and lust for power are not things he’s ashamed of. In fact, these traits in themselves are not bad, nor do they make him a bad person. Problems arise because of these traits in combination with the following, mostly of which are traits of narcissists. He’s less entitled than your average narcissist and has evidence to back up his ego, but still a narcissist.

He is afraid of taking risks. He clings to the rails of the bureaucratic ladder instead of staking it out on his own in a field like pure research, where you can either be wildly famous or wallow in obscurity. Galen says this to him in the Rogue One novelization, and boy does it hurt because he knows it’s true. Because he fears taking his own path, he’s at the behest of the Empire. All opportunities that present themselves to him will be ones that further the Empire’s own goals. Not that he has a problem with them.

Speaking of which, Krennic doesn’t have real goals; he doesn’t know what success for himself looks like. In full accordance with being a raging narcissistic, he’s an ambitious social climber whose only goal is to be powerful. What that looks like, we have no idea.

Before we go any further, I want to make an important comment about power. Power is not inherently evil. Wanting power doesn’t make you a bad person. Being powerful just means having the ability to effect change. You can use it to command the massacre of millions of people, but you can also use it to create a system for sustainable energy. Power is not an end, but a means to an end.

That said, being powerful isn’t actually a real goal. When you set goals, you want them to be SMART. Goals must be specific, measurable, attainable, reasonable, and have a time deadline. Krennic’s goal is neither specific nor measurable (which renders consideration of the latter three letters moot).

There are so many ways to be powerful including, but not limited to: senator, social media mogul, actor, political activist, prominent author, famous architect, and successful tech entrepreneur. “I want to be powerful,” is so vague, it may as well not even be a goal at all. And if you don’t even know what your goal looks like, how can you measure it? How do you know that you’ve reached it?

A quest for power ends when one has enough to execute on whatever end goal they have, but Krennic has none, so his quest for ever greater power never ends. He’ll just keep climbing the bureaucratic ladder to the top. The only way to climb the ladder is by serving your superiors, so the Empire’s goals become his goals.

He has problems with authority. He hates all of them. He wants to have the freedom to do things on his own terms, but they won’t let him. That’s the consequence of working for somebody else. And when you work for somebody else, you know you don’t have all the power.

Now, I want to go on a brief tangent about Galen’s business partnership offer to Krennic. It was an out for Krennic. The perfect out, in fact. He would have been unbelievably happy there. Barring responsibility to shareholders, there are no restrictions as to what entrepreneurs can do; they get to be their own bosses, set their own goals, set their own rules, do whatever they want. The only other authority figure in the vicinity would be Galen, who wouldn’t even be his superior. He’d be working alongside his best friend, whom he knows respects him.

In fact, when Galen first tells him about the project, Krennic is reeling, literally incapable of saying anything other than dazedly repeating Galen’s words with a question mark at the end.

For a brief moment he glimpsed a new destiny opening before his eyes, a window into a future he had never imagined for himself, a path to an entirely different life, and yet just as quickly as the window opened, it closed, slammed shut as much by long years of training as by a feeling of trepidation.

This is such an incredibly tragic moment when you consider how different things could have been had he said yes. How much better things could have been. A life without betrayal and loss. Unfortunately, he was too afraid to take it.

So he’s stuck in the position of simultaneously hating his bosses and also wanting respect from them. This becomes a problem because…

He’ll do what it takes to get what he wants, but he’s not a spineless bootlicker. He’s much too prideful for that. The thing about people ruthlessly ambitious as Krennic is that they don’t bow down to anybody. Bureaucrats hate this. To them, Krennic is just an uppity chav ¹ who thinks he can make it to the top. I have no doubt Krennic picks up on the fact that he’s hit a glass ceiling. He can’t woo them; they hate him just for being him. It’s unbelievably petty, so he’s petty right back at them. They owe him respect for all he’s done! So he seeks to undermine the authority of those above him (i.e. Tarkin) the only way he can - via manipulation and cunning. It’s what he’s good at and he knows it.

Despite all of the above, he seeks external validation (a mark of narcissists), such as rank squares, a dramatic cape, and being in charge of big projects. Narcissists are both immensely prideful and profoundly insecure. His ruthless ambition is a direct consequence of these insecurities. He needs to show off for any modicum of self dignity. Even in the presence of Galen he gets defensive about his position.

“But I am serious,” Galen cut in. “And I do understand your position. I just think you deserve more than…this,” he added, motioning in a way that took in the Corps of Engineers headquarters. Krennic swallowed to suppress a sudden defensiveness, a raw desire to tell Galen Erso that this was all a sham; to load that datapad of Erso’s with the schematic of the battle station and show him what he was really in charge of.

This ties closely to his lack of concrete goals. Without those, everybody else always determines your worth: whether you stand up to their expectations. When you can set your own goals and your own standards for success, you can fall back on those. If you fall short of someone else’s expectations, you can say, “Fuck that. This is what matters to me and I meet my own standards.” But Orson has none of those. He’ll never feel self fulfillment, and he’ll never be personally satisfied with himself.

He doesn’t want to be responsible for his actions, specifically, the ones that reflect poorly on him. I don’t know why Krennic doesn’t have a goal more concrete than “be powerful”, but if had to guess I’d say it’s because he’s afraid of failing at that goal. It would be a failing on his own part and there’s no plausible deniability. He can’t say, “They gave me unrealistic goals,” or, “ They were plotting against me.” It falls on him now. He’s more than eager to take credit for his success, he’s too afraid to take responsibility for his failures. Even though Krennic hates being beholden to anybody, he’s afraid of being completely independent. He’s a child that wants to be a grown up, but he doesn’t want to wake up and smell the taxes.

Everything he does, his ambition, his quest for power, his Machiavellian tendencies, even his dramatic fashion sense, all stem from the fact he is a sad and lonely narcissist trying to prove himself in place where nobody wants him to succeed. It all feeds back into itself. He’s put himself in an environment that exacerbates his narcissistic traits, and he becomes more and more ruthless as he tries to maintain his dignity and feed his ego.

– Notes 1. I apologize for using this word; I don’t know another less offensive word that more accurately describes what the posh officers think of him

Bonus: AU where Orson accepts Galen’s business proposal and quits his job in the Corps of Engineers. The Death Star never gets built, nobody dies, and it’s happy endings for everybody.