#don’t yell at me i’m sorry

[dreamersbcll]

“Go”

scream 6: instead of chad getting stabbed in the kill box, it’s sam

——————————————————————————

They were so close. Tara could practically taste the city air on her tongue, picturing the quickest escape route from this hellish building.

In hindsight, she should’ve known that this wasn’t the way it was supposed to go. It was almost too easy: the chase, the set-up, the attack. One moment, they were waiting for their enemy, and now they were in the middle of a fight for their lives.

But it was too easy. In the back of her mind, she knew that this wasn’t right. They weren’t supposed to have the upper hand. This was the kill box, the shrine to victims who never stood a chance against their killers.

Yet, just for a split second, Tara believed they would be the first to escape victorious. They would run and find help, watching their attackers get jailed or, even better, murdered by their hands.

Still, pride always comes before the fall.

Tara watched Sam lift the empty gumball machine, grinning ear-to-ear. She had complete faith in her big sister, and watching her take down the Ghostfaces without a scratch was exhilarating. Sam was so powerful, so strong, so capable. She loved knowing that Sam was her protector.

“Get him, Sam!” she yelled, her voice hoarse with emotion.

Sam turned, with the gumball machine over her head, searching for Tara. A moment of silence blanketed over the chaos, the two sisters staring at each other. Sam was grinning maniacally, Tara matching her smile. It was damn near intoxicating, watching her sister protect her, just like when they were young.

In the blink of an eye, Tara could feel the momentum shift, the tide turning against their favor. As if Chad could sense it, he tugged on Tara's sleeve, pulling her by the waist to move. Too slow on the uptake, Tara froze and watched in horror as the scene played out.

Just as her big sister was about to slam the machine onto the fallen Ghostface, a flash of black overtook her, and a knife embedded itself in Sam’s side. Sam went down, a guttural scream falling out of her mouth.

Without thinking, Tara lurched forward. “No!”

Chad wrapped his arms around her middle, tugging her back. Tara punched and slapped against his hands, sinking her nails into his skin. She could feel him wincing, but his grip only grew more rigid.

“Sam!” she screamed, reaching out for her big sister.

Sam, forced onto her knees by the two Ghostfaces, was pinned down, each killer holding her steady with one arm on each shoulder.

And then they started stabbing.

——

Tara remembers the first attack very well.

She remembers every cut, slash, and blood spatter like the back of her hand. Surprisingly, getting stabbed doesn’t feel cold. It felt like the blade was dipped in lava, red-hot steel carving her from the inside out. It wasn’t like being kissed on the head or squeezed too hard in a hug. It was like someone had stuck their hands into her skin and ripped her open.

The pain made her eyes cross and her vision go white. She was already having difficulty breathing, but it was as if someone had taped the holes of a straw, stuck it in her mouth, and told her to take deep breaths. She had stopped fighting the assailant and clawed at her throat, trying to rip open her esophagus if it meant she could breathe.

A knife through the hand burned, but nothing else would haunt her more than how her leg crunched under the boot of Ghostface. One moment, she was on her stomach, crawling away, and then her leg was shattered, the bone fragments opening up her skin.

Luckily, then, she stopped remembering what happened next. The pain turned off her brain, closed her lungs, and shut her vision down. She remembers next waking up in a hospital bed, bandages covering more of her body than the gown itself.

Sometimes, when she sleeps, she can remember how much pain she was in. How hard Ghostface pulled on her hair, tearing it from the scalp. She remembers how the knife made a slick suction cup sound when pulled from her back.

Tara was glad it was her and not Sam. She didn’t want her sister to know how it felt to be gutted like a pig.

Until now.

——

Much like her first assault, her body entered crisis mode and started shutting down things she didn’t need. Her vision tunneled, her ears roared with blood, and her breathing became shallow wheezes.

She screamed and cried, sentenced to watch the Ghostfaces take turns slashing her big sister. One knife in, twisted, pulled out, and the next followed. It was a well-oiled machine, one that should be used in a slaughterhouse and not on her big sister.

Unlike Tara, Sam didn’t scream. She didn’t even yell. Blood gushed down her chin, dribbling onto the floor. Tears streamed down Sam’s face, but Tara couldn’t tell if it was from pain or the realization of what was next.

Sam knew that the minute she stopped breathing, Tara would give in. There was no lifeline without the other, and once she fell, Tara would line up to meet Sam’s fate, too.

Tara knew. Sam knew. The two sisters watched each other, one screaming and sobbing in the arms of a friend while the other met their end. It felt like years, decades, millenniums, until Sam’s body hit the ground, a dull thump signaling her defeat.

Chad couldn’t hold onto the wailing girl any longer. Tara slammed her foot onto his, forcing him to let go. Unfortunately, he was seconds too late to decipher what Tara’s next move was. If he were quicker, faster, maybe even stronger, he would’ve been able to save one of the Carpenter sisters.

But he never stood a chance.

The youngest Carpenter was walking towards the Ghostfaces, her steps purposeful, her head held high. The two masked assailants cocked their heads, sensing blood in the water. This wasn’t the ending they wanted. This wasn’t the satisfactory ending they had hoped to achieve. But they made the mistake of ruining Tara’s end, so she decided to destroy theirs.

She knew deep down that the assholes wouldn’t be able to deny the pleasure of carving up another legacy kill. And she was serving herself up on a silver platter.

Sam, before dying, had whispered to Tara, you have to go.

And she was. She just wasn’t leaving without her big sister.

Holding her arms out, she threw her head back, teeth bared to the ceiling. As they forced her down to her knees, she could feel her jeans soaking with the blood of her fallen sister. If she flexed her ankle, she could feel her sister's body pushing against her leg.

So she set herself up to die, her teeth bared, her muscles taught. One Ghostface gripped her shoulder, the other raising their knife.

Tara had made peace with her decision. But she had one thing left to do.

Looking up at Chad, she nodded slowly. “It’s okay. You have to go. It’ll be okay,” she soothed.

And then the knife pierced her heart, and her vision went white.

[heartpascal]

guys how would we feel about a tommy miller fic with a platonic seraphite reader :’) i’m in my feels ok. ALSO IVE BEEN DOING SOME STUDYING I SWEAR!!! i just have to share my thoughts with y’all

[gingerwerk]

“This goddamn gun!” Hasser shouts. His voice cracks. “It’s a piece of shit.” “Walt, you know I like you a lot,” Colbert says, trying to calm him. “But it’s not going to help if you loose control of your emotions. We just don’t have enough LSA to keep it lubed properly. There’s nothing we can do about it.” He adds, “I’m sorry I had to yell at you.”

- generation kill, page 217

[whereismyhat5678]

Okay. I watched Spooky Month 6 and I loved it! I truly did!

…..But god…it’s gonna eat at me alive if I don’t say anything about Pump.

I feel bad for Pump…and Susie- I truly do!

Which is why I have to rant, about how much I HATE their parents!

(Spoiler warning at the bottom, oh and I swear a lot too-)

You may not hear how angry I get but god damnit was I fucking angry at Pump’s parents each time they were mentioned.

It hit me the moment Pump ran to the phone immediately thinking it was his parents calling but got sad only realizing it was just Skid’s mom. And I can say with certainty that he WAITS for the day they call him. Remember the 4th ep where he said, and I quote: “Call them, they never answer!” so NONCHALANTLY.

Not only that but his Grandpa even looks back to him and you could clearly see, the GUILT on his face. That man does not only feel bad but I KNOW he feels guilty for their absence. HE has to take care of them, HE has to practically raise them now because their parents can’t come home. And HE had to fake bringing Pump a toy saying it was from his parents when in actuality HE was the one that bought it for him!!

I’m sorry- WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK?? What do you mean Grandpa has to literally fake bringing him a gift from his parents?? What do you mean they never fucking call them??? I’m usually not one to get so angry BUT THIS HAS ME ENRAGED.

What type of low-life down right shameful parents can’t contact their own fucking kid??? No matter how busy they are, no matter if they can’t visit them- because you know what? I would’ve given them a pass if their work was the reason why they couldn’t come home which probably still is the case- I won’t blame you! Some people just gotta travel for work!…BUT YOU’RE TELLING ME THEY CAN’T SPARE ONE FUCKING SECOND TO CALL THEIR CHILDREN??? Let alone they’re what- 6YEAR OLD KID??? (I think that’s Pump’s age-)

You’re telling me they can’t even send them a letter?? Not even one fucking letter??- Just letting their children know that they still give a fuck about them- THEY CAN’T EVEN DO THAT??

And don’t even get me STARTED on how they make Pump feel- HE FEELS LIKE A BURDEN?!?! A CHILD AT HIS AGE SHOULD NEVER- AND I MEAN ABSOLUTELY NEVER FEEL LIKE A GODDAMN BURDEN (same thing does to Skid!)!!!

CALL. AT THE LEAST CALL YOUR FUCKING CHILD!!! Show them that you still care!- SHOW HIM THAT YOU STILL LOVE HIM!!!

It fucking infuriates me…

Listen, I get it…If you gotta work and travel fine!- Do it!….But you can’t just do that without consoling your children!! At least tell them- message them- at least show that you CARE. What type of dipshit parents just ignore their children like that??…

Listen, I might be getting it wrong so go ahead, explain and I mean THOROUGHLY explain why Pump and Susie’s parents aren’t bad. Because to me, this is the shittiest move you can make to your own children.

The Grandpa cares more about them. HE takes care of them. If that doesn’t show how fucked up their situation is I don’t know what is. Never be like Pump’s parents. Do better. And shame on you if you are.

Thank you.

[oddtripps]

Him. Again. For the millionth billionth time.

[ch3rie-pop]

I’m here

It’s been a couple months. My mom restricted tumblr from my phone and uuuh, I can’t download anything without her knowing so that’s cool. I’m tired. I’m tired but I finally figured out the screen time passcode to my phone so I thought I’d talk with you all because I think some people might care 🤷‍♀️

It use to be bad (my mental state), but it’s mellowed out, I got use to it I guess. That being said I’m not sure about creating content too much, finding the time and motivation to is very difficult. It hurts coming back here and not feeling at home anymore. I don’t feel the same about art and I feel bland. Really meh. I want to go back but even if I tried to I think I’d just get beaten into the ground again (<- not literal please don’t call the cops).

That’s it I think. I love you very much and I hope you’re doing better than me right now.

[fictionaltrvlr]

Mr Perfectly Fine 2.0

[chrollohearttags]

everything that could go wrong today has and I’m just ready to call it quits for this year while I’m ahead. Not even going to try anymore.

[spiritb0x]

M. Bition’s speech from episode 3

[caprisouss]

I don’t know about y’all but I would personally like to see buddy boy kiss a dude. maybe shy guy- [gets tackled before I can finish speaking]

[dreamersbcll]

What if chad doesn't stop tara from opening quinn's door in the apartment scene? Let's suppose that ghostface was right behind it, waiting for someone to do something. Maybe when tara opens it, ghostface pulls her inside and locks the door... please, if you decide to write this, make it angsty <3

so, i did a mashup of au’s. here’s the other inspo post….

“Guess”

————————————————————————

The fucked-up part of the whole night was that Tara genuinely thought they would eat dinner together until the screaming started. The newly coined Core-Four gets one nice moment together, which again is ruined by some death wish. Once the screaming began, the facade of a good life was stripped away, and the kids ran toward the source.

Tara didn’t know why she went to open the door. Every fiber in her being begged her to back away from the door, but naturally, she ignored her instincts. She instead reached for the door handle, feeling the electricity crackle between her fingertips and the knob. She knew deep down that something was wrong.

But she twisted it anyway.

The second she did so, she looked up and made eye contact with Sam, dread swallowing her up whole. As if Sam could read her mind, her expression quickly changed from confusion to horror. Her big sister reached out, trying to get her away from the door, and that’s when Tara was snatched.

The door violently swung open, and a gloved hand wrapped around her shoulder, yanking her inside. She could see the moment that the other kids knew- that Tara wasn’t coming out unscathed. She could feel her stomach drop, her hands instantly shaking. The door slammed shut behind her, and the noise of something being shoved in front of it made her ears ache.

As she was thrown to the bedroom floor, she saw Quinn’s dead body strewn across her bed. Blood spattered the walls and sheets, and she cried out as she fell into a puddle. Hot and sticky, and her head throbbing, she stared at Ghostface, a sneer across her face.

Though every part of her was terrified, she put on her brave face, snarling back at her latest assailant.

“You better make it fucking hurt. My sister will tear you apart, limb by limb!” she growled, ignoring the throbbing in her panicked chest.

Ghostface tilted his head at Tara, and she swore she saw him smile.

“I hope she does, Tara,” he sneered back, raising the knife.

Before she could react, she kicked her square in the head, knocking her out cold.

——

Turning around towards the sound of screaming, Ghostface stared at the door, watching it shake. He could hear the bitchy sister beg for Tara, and the conceited asshole Chad threw his body against the door. It didn’t matter what they prayed for or who they begged. He was in control now.

Making his way to the shaking door, he pulled out his knife, tapping the blade against the door. Immediately the pounding stopped, the screaming dying to a bated breath.

This was too fucking easy.

Scraping the blade against the door, he spoke quietly, just above a whisper.

“Hey, Sam. Let’s play a game,” he taunted, goosebumps rising as the shrill knife scraped against the old wood.

A gasp could be heard, and someone stumbled back across the hardwood floor onto the couch. He grinned, knowing that he had them all wrapped around his finger.

Her voice, low and controlled, broke the silence.

“Try me, motherfucker,” she hissed back, her voice strained.

Without warning, he slapped his free hand against the door hard enough to make the ground jump and shriek in fear. God, did this feel fucking good. He didn’t care if he was going off-script. This was what he wanted. It was his game, and they had to play it.

How delightful.

Leaning against the door, he let his mask touch the wood, relishing how he could hear Sam breathing fast. The bitch may be a stone-cold murderer, but behind that, she was still a scared little girl.

And he was about to teach her what happens when you kill his brother.

“Question game. Three questions, to be exact. Each time you’re wrong, I get to stab your sister. If you get them right, she lives with minimal brain damage. If you don’t decide in the next ten seconds, I’m gutting her like a pig on Quinn’s bedroom floor,” he snarled, slapping his hand against the door again.

It took a few moments of frantic whispers and soft cries of Don’t do it, Sam, but he eventually heard the words he was waiting for.

“Fine. You lose, and I get to tear you apart,” she gritted back, slamming her hand against the wall.

He grinned and picked up the crumpled girl by the hair.

This was too easy.

——

Sam doesn’t know why she decided to play into this asshole’s delusions. Nothing good was going to come of it. She knew deep down that she was doing the wrong thing, but what could she do? She was damned if she did and damned if she didn’t.

Tara was going to bleed either way. Whether or not Sam burst into the door armed and ready to fight, Tara would get hurt. It didn’t matter what she did.

It didn’t fucking matter.

Digging her nails into the soft wood, she could feel the twins flanking her side. Annika was behind her, pressing gently against the small of her back. Taking a deep breath, she shuddered, the twins holding her upright.

“Okay. Now fucking get on with it, you sorry sack of shit,” she blurted out, trying to sound intimidating. But her shaky voice gave her away.

She could hear someone dragged across the floor, presumably her little sister—dead weight. Tara sounded like dead weight. She could feel her stomach churn and twist, knowing that her baby sister was in the hands of a butcher with a knife.

“Sam?” a confused Tara slurred out, yelping as she was slapped again.

Sam punched the door in a rage. “Don’t fucking touch her!”

After what seemed to be an eternity, he finally answered her, laughing at her pain. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to control her breathing. If she broke focus, Tara would die, and she couldn’t have that. They had just reunited.

They had just reunited.

“Question one, Sam. No freebies,” he drawled, Tara whimpering at his feet.

The twins sniffled, Anika, rubbing Mindy’s back. Sam could feel her hands trembling, and she took a deep breath, trying to control it. The kids needed her to stay upright. The kids needed her to be strong.

Fuck, Tara needed her to be solid and correct.

“How many people have you killed?”

Sam felt her mouth go dry, her hands limp at her side. This wasn’t a trick question, just one she wasn’t expecting. But she knew she was right because she had killed zero people. She smiled to herself, knowing that Tara would be safe this round. Mindy breathed a sigh of relief, Chad putting his face into his hands.

“None. I’ve killed none. Fuck you!” she spat, curling her hands into fists.

“Wrong answer!” he taunted, and before she could react, Tara screamed in pain.

A guttural scream of torment and the sound of skin torn apart by a knife. Chad stumbled backward, turning green, while Mindy fell to her knees, dragging Anika down.

Sam stood there, swaying slightly on her feet. She could hear Tara crying, the type of cry she had when she was in distress. It had been a while since Sam had heard that, that cry of despair. She should’ve known that this asshole had some fucked-up vendetta against her. Another conspiracy theorist who couldn’t accept that she wasn’t guilty.

“Let her go! Take me! Let her go!” she screamed, throwing her shoulder into the door. She felt it splinter under her touch, but before she could throw her body against the door again, she heard Tara wail in pain again.

“Careful, Sam. That’s against the rules—quick follow-up question for you. How many times can I stab your little sister before she bleeds out?” he gloated, laughing maniacally at his words.

She tugged at her hair hard. “That’s not fair! That’s not a real fucking question! Fuck you! Let her go!” Sam wailed, slamming her hands against the door.

Tara coughed a wet, sticky cough. “Sam, please,” she begged softly, coughing again.

There wasn’t anything Sam could do. She was stuck in hell, and she couldn’t do a goddamn thing to claw her way out. Tara was begging for her to help, but the game was rigged. No matter what, her baby sister would bleed- and Sam couldn’t control how much.

She slammed her hand against the door again, pathetically.

“Please,” she whimpered, tears welling up in her eyes as she heard Tara take a ragged breath in and out.

“Answer the question, Sam. How many people have you killed?”

Tara whimpered, and the twins behind her sobbed. Sam could feel every part of her body fighting the answer that sat on her tongue, but she had to give in. There wasn’t a backup plan. This was it- this was the end.

And she had to play into it.

“One. I’ve killed one,” she whispered, digging her nails into the door.

Ghostface laughed, a loud, mocking sound. The twins flinched, and Sam nearly stumbled back from the noise. It was an unnerving sound echoing throughout their apartment, one that wouldn’t ever be forgotten.

After a bit, he collected himself, clearing his throat.

“Do you know what it’s like to lose a sibling, Sam?”

Her stomach bottomed out, and her knees hit the floor. She pressed her forehead against the door, her nails digging into the wood, blood oozing down the wood.

“Please. Please don’t do this,” she begged, tears flowing down her face.

She could hear her baby sister crying, mumbling through her anguish and tears. He slapped Tara, the sound making Sam flinch in pain.

“I know what it’s like. You killed my sibling. I think it’s only fair if I kill yours. A life for a life,”.

“Richie was your sibling?” she stuttered incredulously, Mindy gasping behind her.

He laughed again, plunging his knife into Tara, who cried out in pain.

“She has a brain, ladies and gentlemen! The killer, the cold-blooded murderer, Sam Carpenter, has a brain!” he crowed, stabbing Tara again.

Ghostface dragged Tara towards the door, pressing her against it. Sam could practically feel Tara’s breathing, and she pressed a shaky palm against the door, trying to soothe her little girl.

It didn’t matter. This was the end. She could feel Tara's blood ooze under the door, soaking into her jeans. Tara breathed raggedly, her voice thick with blood.

“Sam. It’s Ethan. He’s the killer,” she softly whispered, her voice barely registering in Sam’s mind.

“Ethan?” she replied incredulously.

If she were wiser, she would’ve kept her mouth shut. But she wasn’t.

“Hi, Sam. Goodbye Tara!” he triumphantly yelled.

The screams of the group echoed throughout the building, Tara’s blood covering their floors.

[loosethreadsofyoursoul]

do you think that straight people know that for every movie, book, and tv series they hold dear, there is a prominent homosexual fanbase raging about gay subtext on tumblr dot com or do they enjoy media in blissful ignorance?

[spineless-lobster]

Okay lads I hate (and I mean hate) to be the bearer of bad news here but like… if the captain wasn’t lying and barry in fact was real then… barry died guys :(

The captain, wandering the halls of button house calling out for his loyal friend. A friend who helped him through thick and thin—when the war started, when havers left, when the looming dread of war became too much. Eventually the whole unit starts searching for him, rummaging through bushes and scouting the nearby forest. Even the sweet promise of treats could not beckon the dog from his hiding spot.

Finally, the captain returns to his office. Under his desk he finds the small fluffy body curled in on itself. Lost in a deep slumber.

“Ah, barry, there you are!” He smiled with relief, placing a comforting hand on his companion.

The captain’s heart drops. He’s cold to the touch.

“Barry?” He asks, pleads, quietly. “Come on, wake up old boy.” A lump formed in his throat, the captain struggled to swallow as tears pricked his eyes.

The little dog’s body lay still under his fingers. His soft breathing had escaped his lungs for a while now.

And so the captain sat there, cradling the small creature in his arms. His fur was made wet with tears. Minutes, or perhaps hours passed. It didn’t matter anymore. It was strange, his time spent with barry seemed so short. From the day he brought him home to this moment felt like it went by in the blink of an eye, now time passed so slowly as he quietly sobbed behind his desk.

He tearfully breaks the news to the unit, and they all agree to give him a proper soldier’s burial. Taking the two shabby rifles and limited ammunition they had, a ceremony was held in the garden. The captain slowly laid his dog into the hole. Watching helplessly as he left the warm embrace of his arms into the cold, wet earth.

“He was very special to me.”

More words were said, but his clouded mind could not keep its grip on the reality before him.

Finally, the two-gun salute was fired and flowers were placed on top of him. A blanket of pale petals.

The captain alone buried him. Silent tears ran down his damp cheeks as each shovel of dirt obscured his only friend. Saying goodbye never got easier, despite the captain becoming used to it.

[onward--upward]

(make me) misbehave — chapter 2

Alex/Henry, rated E || ao3 || masterpost

ALEX CLAREMONT-DIAZ DROPS SURPRISE SINGLE, ANNOUNCES NEW ALBUM

Good news, ACD stans! At 7pm EST, the Texas-born superstar delighted music fans everywhere by releasing sky blue, a surprise single off his upcoming album, will u/won’t u . This comes as Claremont-Diaz’s first release since his Grammy-nominated sophomore album, breathing underwater. Click here to join the conversation.

***

nat :) @/acdass: okay who let acd drop the most romantic song in the world on a random thursday??

read chapter 2 || start from prologue

[afterschoolcrewz]

this episode was soo messy idk how to feel

[ciderjacks]

disabled feeling of having to ask for accommodations but feeling more and more like a little bitch because I keep having to explain that I Can’t Do The Thing and it just starts sounding like I’m making excuses