#suicidal throughts

[bluegrey02]

Wonder what it's like being pretty.

[vampirehowl]

if we are ok with me being completely honest my dream version of this upcoming barbie movie is written and produced by david lynch and werner herzog in addition to the current use of White Couple Weekly. do i think that this would probably end up in a murder/suicide? yes. but thats a risk im willing to take in the name of Barbie

[rainbowgothdisaster]

mum: this is the best lovestory ever mum: *turns on Wristcutters* me: me: me: mummy why?

[throckmortons-thrussy]

I just read a journal about suicide and human evolution by Nicholas Humphrey, which you can read here.

It's very interesting read, and got me out of the small bout of derealization I was having.

The thought on where the idea of suicide comes from, and all the different ways we're influenced really kept me engaged.

I got a nice chuckle from phrasing "the suicide meme" but literally speaking it's correct.

What I found most interesting tho, was the part on Sensory Consciousness. That we as humans are driven by a want to experience all sorts of sensory stimulation, and that in itself is reason enough to stick around and continue living.

By my own life experience, I heartily agree with Humphrey on that point. I'm constantly seeking out stimulation that either sooths or excites me. Particularly, extreme stimulation, such as extreme temperatures, heights, flavors, and pushing myself to my physical limits. Have always been fascinated with that last one, but I not sure if it's more of an ego thing or a stimulation thing.

Anyway, I'll probably be doing more of these ramblings, as I think I quite enjoy them!

Till next time--

[lexa-ocean]

I have just watched The Amazing Digital Circus ep 2. Got a theory re: Jax

Ok so ppl have been pointing out that Jax seems more 'violent' this episode. However, I want everyone to consider this v brief expression he pulled when hearing about Kaufmo's funeral

I think it's clear he did care about Kaufmo, even if he didn't show it.

My thoughts? He's going throught the 5 stages of grief rn.

Ep 1 was denial, him acting like it was all fine and ignoring the situation

This ep was anger. Him wishing for violence on everyone, dissapointed there was no bloodshed, willing to let the Fudge kill the whole kingdom... yeah, man was pissed tf out

If we're going by that logic, next eps will be bargaining, depression and acceptance. Considering Gooseworx on twitter issued warnings for the whole series, which included "references to suicide"... yeah.

That was all basically bye-

[worldofmorbidities]

My Zero Day headcannons (Part 2- Cal):

- He is autistic (Problems with socializing, noise sensitivity, dyspraxia)

- He 100% fw Marilyn Manson (He wears a Marilyn Manson shirt in the graveyard scene)

- His favorite song is "The Nobodies", as it reminds him of himself and Andre (and Columbine, their inspiration for Zero Day)

- He has a foot fetish (Like Dylan😝)

-He dislikes being short and wishes he was 6'3, as his height makes him a easy target for the jocks and is his main source of gender dysphoria.

- Trans boy (Deadname: Callie, hence the nickname Cal in order to avoid deadnaming)

- Everyone aside from a few people (His family, Andre and Rachel) believes he is a cis boy. He just passes that well, despite not starting any gender reaffirming treatment.

- The Gabriel family is Christian. Cal used to go to church with his family on Sundays until he was 13, which his parents were okay with as they considered him old enough to decide for himself.

- He started hanging out with Andre instead of going to church, which his parents saw as a positive because Cal was socializing and had made a friend.

- As a kid, he would rather sit in the corner and watch other kids rather than play with them. He also didn't talk or walk until age 3, prompting an autism diagnosis.

-He and Rachel became friends in 2nd grade because she would sit beside him and read with him and defended him when other kids made fun of him for being "weird".

- His sister Carla is 8, and his brother Cameron is 6 (My hcs, as they have no canon names and ages)

- Cal usually is a protective and caring older brother, but sometimes his siblings annoy the living hell out of him.

- His parents, considering their traditional views, did a suprisingly good job at trying to be supportive when Cal came out at age 13. They just refer to him as Cal in order to avoid deadnaming him. His siblings only remember him as their brother, a boy.

- Gay, but in the closet due to fear of others' reactions. He always have known and have never been in a relationship (except Andre), but kissed someone as a dare in middle school.

- If he knew Rachel crushed on him (He's oblivious to the obvious hints), he'd try to reject her politely and explain that he isn't into girls. He'd want some distance, but still be friends.

- His grades are bad (C's at best), due to autism + ADD impacting his learning abilities. The only class he does good in is Music.

- He was not interested in college, a job or the military. Having no hope or plans for the future and being treated differently all his life, he saw Zero Day as a suicide and revenge mission.

- His only regret was not confessing to Andre that he liked him. Part of him also regretted not giving his little siblings a proper goodbye and not spending enough time with them.

- Had he not gone throught with Zero Day, he would be come a prefessional musician.

- He started playing the guitar at age 7 and the sitar at age 15. His parents enrolled him in piano lessons at age 6, but pulled him out due to him disliking it.

[whatispersonalspacejyp]

Comes animae 5 - Stockholm Syndrome

Genre: Mature, Smut

Pairing: Chan x reader

Warnings series: Stalking, Kidnapping, Non con, depression

Warnings chapter: mentions of suicidal throught, selfharm, calling Chan master, depression, long smut

Smut warnings: oral, force, shower, usage of slut

Previous - Next

I was in complete shock, but he was right. ‘I wasn’t strong enough to fight him and allowed him to do that…’ Chan sits up and puts his clothes back on, then proceeds to pull my underwear up and a shirt back on. I tried to catch my breath, rolling away from Chan and curled up. ‘It did turn me on, and I did enjoy it… But I shouldn’t, what he did is a crime. It’s all so wrong.’ I whimpered a little before putting my hands on my head, tears streaming down my face. “Just shut up, SHUT UP.” Chan was startled by my outburst and got up. “Well doll, I’ll leave you to yourself for a bit.” Chan didn’t know that I was a danger to myself when I felt low, I got up and looked around the room, but saw nothing useful. So I started scratching myself, hoping that the voices would stop and make me less stressed.  Even when I started to draw blood, it didn’t stop me. Maybe just maybe if I become obedient he wouldn’t do this again. Chan walks back into the bedroom to check on me and raises his eyebrow, “I see… I can put you in the most empty room of the cabin and still, you manage to hurt yourself.” I just smiled at him, before going into a hug. “Please don’t leave, I’ll be a good doll for master.” I whimpered, falling on my knees while holding onto his legs. Chan looks down suspiciously, quite at a loss for words. “Yesterday you wanted to kill me, with a poor attempt to be honest, and now you are begging me not to leave.” I keep my head down, holding him a bit tighter. “I’m sorry master, please just don’t leave. I don’t want to be alone with these voices in my head.” I said starting to cry. “I see how it is.” Chan sighs and lifts me up and walks back to the bedroom I was in before before putting me on the bed. Chan crawls onto the bed and sits against the headboard, observing what I am doing. I instantly curl up in Chan’s lap. “I’m sorry master, that I disobeyed you and that I’m broken beyond repair.” Chan hesitantly lays a hand on my head and plays with my hair. I crawl a bit up and lay my head on Chan’s chest. “I will try not to disobey you.” I closed my eyes and slowly fell asleep.  Chan still finds himself confused because of my sudden change, but lets it slide to spare himself a headache and then throws an arm around my shoulders to keep me close. Once Chan knew I was in a deep sleep he got up and checked everything and also locked the last few things before going back into the room to lie down with me.

Chan didn’t sleep all night, not that he even needed it, but he decided to keep a watchful eye on me throughout the night. I shifted and opened my eyes just a few seconds later after Chan shifted his position. ‘I have never felt such a comfortable pillow.’ I slowly took my head off of it and looked around, when I saw Chan there I quickly moved my head down again. I didn’t expect him to lay there, especially not being the comfortable pillow. I moved my head to a pillow and mumbled a sorry to Chan, while I was looking at the wall, feeling worse and worse with every second. Chan slightly smirks and snakes his hand around my hip. ‘It’s like they became obedient in a blink of an eye. I thought it would take me way longer to get them like that.’ I closed my eyes again and sighed. “May I take a shower?” I wanted to get rid of the awful dirty feeling I felt and I just needed a moment alone. Chan thinks to himself a bit and then nods. “Yes, I’ll show you the bathroom.” Chan crawls out of bed and stands straight, “Can you walk by yourself?” I nodded and slowly got up, following Chan to the bathroom. While walking to it I looked around the cabin, even admiring it a bit. Chan stops in his tracks and stands in front of the door, opening it, “It’s in here, help yourself.” I bowed a bit and moved into the room. “Uh, Chan? could you maybe bring me some clean clothes?” I said while I started to undress, I didn’t even care if he was there, he had already seen it all last night. Chan’s eyes glow almost a pinkish color when he sees me undress. “Of course, I’ll be back in a bit.” He turns around and searches for a clean set of clothes. I stepped into the shower and let out a soft moan when the warm water came in contact with my skin. Chan found some that he brought with him along with a clean pair of underwear and carried them to the bathroom. He casually opens the door and drops the clothes in front of the shower. he licks his lips, having an idea and he undresses himself.

I ignored Chan when he stepped into the shower and continued to wash my hair. Chan looks me up from head to toe a couple of times and steps behind me, slowly trailing his arms around my waist while breathing on my neck. I tried to ignore him, but I felt myself getting excited by his touch. I grabbed my body wash and started rubbing it on my skin. “I know what you are doing.” Chan hisses and runs his fangs over my neck. I closed my eyes and leaned into Chan when I felt his fangs on my neck. “Yeah cleaning myself.” I hastily say, not wanting to let him know that I felt hot and bothered. “Very funny.” Chan immediately pierces his fangs into my neck and starts sucking, moaning at the taste of my blood. I also started moaning at the feeling, it felt like a was putting me into a trance, a feeling of sex lust. So I pushed my ass against his cock while moving my hand down to play with myself. Chan moans, feeling himself getting hard already and he roams his hands under my arms to play with my chest while leaving hicks on both my neck and shoulders. I dropped down on the floor and took Chan in my mouth, leaving small licks before trying to get all of him in my mouth, hollowing my chees, and started sucking him off. Chan’s breath hitches from all the pleasure he’s getting and lets out a loud moan. “Such a good doll.”He reaches his hand to my head and grabs a fistful of hair, moving my head up and down, taking back the control.

I started gagging when he started to push down my throat. Chan started fucking down my throat without stopping making me slightly panicked as I felt like I couldn’t breathe. Chan’s grip became tighter and stopped while at the back of my throat and cums into it, before pulling out. Tears were streaming down my face as started to cough, spitting out some of his cum that didn’t go down my throat. Once I slightly composed myself I look up at him while still being on the floor. Chan was catching his breath while watching me with bedroom eyes. He then quickly pulls me up from the floor and pushes me to the shower wall, grabbing my face and kissing me roughly, establishing dominance. I kissed Chan back, moving my knee up to touch his cock, the one thing that felt like could break me out of the sexual trance he got me in. Chan felt himself getting hard again and lifts my legs up to wrap them around his waist, and with no warning, he slams his cock inside me while also pushing his tongue inside my mouth. I moaned against Chan's lips, while my eyes rolled back. “Chan!” I moaned out before grabbing him to hold myself closer to him, afraid I would slip. “Fuck yes, moan my name doll.” He breathes out and starts trusting at a rapid pace. “Please Master, use me like I’m your doll.” I cried out. “That’s what I like to hear,” Chan whispers in my ear. “I’m going to make you feel so good, you won’t even think of anybody else,” Chan mumbles as he starts playing with my chest again. “I’m going to fill you up so good.” He moans before he comes deep inside of me while trusting to ride out his high. I moaned at his cold cum, but felt like I wasn’t close yet, so I cried out for him not to stop. Chan pulls out anyway and puts me down on the ground before moving his head to my core. “My little slut, can’t get enough of your master.” He said before pushing his tongue inside of me. I moaned out and reached my hands towards his head, but Chan quickly grabbed my hands and shook his head. “No, no doll.” Chan looks back at my core and saw the cum leaking from it making him smirk. “You’re not going to finish yet, I still want some more fun.” Chan shuts off the shower and lifts me up only for me to get thrown on my stomach on the bed and within less than a second I could feel that I got chained up again. Chan smirks as I lay there bare and for him to see everything. It made him smirk, made him want to do even more to ruin me. So he walked closer to my bare ass and slaps it. “Let’s test your limits doll.” He gave me another slap and I squirmed, trying to get out of the restraints. “such a beauty.” Chan mumbles before lining his dick against my core again before pushing it back in, making me scream out his name. “Oh scream my name. that makes me even harder.” I cried out in pleasure. “Even when I fucked you earlier you are still so tight.” Chan got back to the fast pace he had earlier and started again with the hickeys around my shoulders and neck, liking it when it started to look like a painting he made, with reds and purples around the area. “Your my little cumslut aren’t you, you just want your master to fill you up.” I moaned out in agreement, feeling Chan hitting the right spot again made me want to cum, I felt Chan lean down and whispers in my ear. “Come on doll, come right on my cock.” I cried when I felt my high coming and came all of his cock while Chan shooks a second load of his cum in me. Chan then pulls out and groans at the sight of the cum dripping down. So he quickly moves to grab the Polaroid camera he had and snaps a picture. “That’s a sight I won’t get tired of.” Chan groans to himself before moving to the bathroom to get both the towels and the clothes. Then he cleaned,  untied, and dressed me, before doing the same to himself.

I smiled at Chan, I was exhausted by what just happened. I even had to admit, that it felt really good. Chan moved me to another place in the cabin and put me on the couch since the bedsheets were both wet and dirty. Chan quickly changed them and moved to sit on the couch next to me, pulling me into his arms. “You did so well for me baby,” Chan whispers in my ears as he leaves small kisses around the place. I cuddled up against Chan with a small smile plastered on my face. “How old are you?” Chan sighed. “I’m 157 years old, but in physical age, I would be around 22.” I nod at him and close my eyes. “How did you turn into one?” Chan smiled. “Curious one, aren’t you? I was actually born a vampire. My mother was a human slave for my father's family, but they fell in love and turned her into a vampire so they could have me and my siblings.” I nuzzle my head into his neck and close my eyes. “You feel so warm… I thought vampires were ice cold.” Chan’s neck hair stands up and licks his lips, feeling my face so close to his neck. “That a myth people would tell, just like crosses, garlic, and sunlight.”

[wildsidejazz]

Gosha got done so dirty, poor man went throught the WRINGER just because he wanted to become family with the one he fell in love with and BAM, his former best friend abandoned him out of jealousy for decades, his wife died of his poison because she managed to distract him long enough to dispose of the disinfectant meant to keep HER safe, his daughter disawoved him and then committed suicide because of her heritage and his poor, grieving, barely pubescent grandson cut contact with him for half a decade and then nearly lost him too, all that atop facing discrimination as a carnivore and a poisonous animal, give this poor man a break

[wrinkly-walls]

The Woodsboro murders as a movie

A (probably unnecessarily long) meta post about how, in universe, the killings were thought of and concieved throught the lens of a movie rather that, well, serial killings (in MY OPINION). This is borderline incomprehensible but bare with me ok :)

DISCLAMER! Same as my last post, this is only taking into account what we're told in the first movie. I don't think that what they tried to do in Scream 3(by this I mean Roman, not the movie set which I do think is cool) is interesting and I prefer to mostly ignore it :) Ok that's all.

As we all know, one of the main reasons why Scream (1996) is such a great movie is it's meta aspect: the self awareness and self referential nature of the film, that works both as a horror movie and as a horror movie parody (accomplishing both things beautifully I may add), is what makes it stand apart. I don't think I need to explain why Scream "Do you like scary movies?" is very meta, so I won't.

What I want to get into is the movie inside of the movie, the movie that Billy and Stu thought they were making, and basically why I think that was the case (the fact that rather than simply being serial killers they created a narrative). By doing this I also want to try to explain why they failed in-universe and why it could've literally never worked the way they were thinking about it.

Let's get started!

So, first there is the why. Like why even would they do that, you know? We don't know whether everything was planned before they killed Maureen, or if after the fact they decided to keep going, but either way I think that it was always going to happen. By that I mean that, as I mentioned in my motives post (which you should check out ;) ), I don't think that murder in on itself was enough for Billy. As I said, I think that the feeling of regained control, of making everyone unwilling actors in his movie after his mother left, was even more important that the murder in itself. Something that I noticed on a recent rewatch that I had totally forgotten about is the scene where Sidney is in the bathroom and a cheerleader is talking about how she thinks that Sidney is actually the killer. The girl says something along the lines of "she felt so bad but she realized teen suicide is out this year and she decided that murder is a much more healthier form of expression". Ironically, I think that this kind of applies to what Billy went through mentally. Obviously, he didn't not kill himself because "teen suicide is out", but I do think that the notion of murder as expression, one that aligns with his interests (horror movies) is one that resonates with him. The way they do it, the murders are as much creation as they are destruction, you know? After his mom left, it's likely that he did what he could to cope with that fact, and in this case this would be to parallel himself with the many (many, like there's so many wtf) horror villans that don't have a mom, or otherwise have a complicated relationship with her (as Sid would put it, mommy issues).

With this we have Billy simultaniously embodying two figures of power in movies, on outside of the movie as writer and director; and one inside, as the unnatural unstoppable force of the slasher (I'm not even going to get into the slasher as a figure of power in slasher films because that's very long, but I recomend reading literaly any sort of analysis of gender in slasher because it's very cool). This is basically the biggest expression of power one can achieve: he both decides the "genre", what role people play; and literally who lives and dies. By being what are probably his role models both in and out of the screen, he manages to sucessfully be put back into a position where he feels comfortable.

To go off on a tangent, this is also why I feel that any analysis of Scream that doesn't consider the concept of Stuilly at all is missing some of the complexities of the characters, because while it is clear that by doing all of this Billy hopes to reclaim lost power, he also willingly decides to share this newfound power. Something that I love about Billy and Stu is that they aren't killers, they're slashers. Or more accurately, they're a slasher. And no matter what some people say on the internet (it makes me so fucking mad free my boy Stu he gets miscaracterized in all fucking directions) Billy also lets Stu be writer and director. We are explicitly told that Stu "though up the ending" (another way in which they themselves present their spree as a movie), an ending Billy himself praises, and if that doesn't say something about their relationship I don't know what does. Not to mention the literal stabbing. The only way I can really see the situation play out like this, by which I mean Billy deciding to share what the killings mean with someone else, is if there was affection of some kind. One could also say that it's just because he couldn't do it alone, or to having someone to take the fall; but that would also mean admitting to not being powerful, admitting that he alone cannot neither plan or go through with his movie, and that's a huge admission of weakness. All this to say they were gay.

Going back to the main thing, the narrative is not that of normal killings. As is established pretty clearly in the movies by the fact that Sid is the main character, the way the the killings are planned are also done with her very clearly at the center. The plot of Scream is that, a plot, one that is (at least at the start) not really that different from other slashers. You have a murder in the past, in this case the main character's mom; which establishes some stakes and just makes the character more interesting. Then, the new murders start, and at first it's just two people who don't really matter: they are killed, on a narrative level, just to start things up again, to get Sid (and the, for them imaginary, audience). After that, a violent attack, complete with taunts about Sid's mother; and then- the boyfriend! He gets arrested, Sid feels completely crazy, just to then be taunted again about how she gets innocent people in prison. Then the party happens (I skipped the bathroom scene because to me that was not them, it being them makes no sense to me), classic final act. And that's certainly a great movie plot, but it's a pretty stupid murder plot. It's way too complicated and risky, Billy could've not been released; and the party is way too ambitoius. To many things could (and actually do) go wrong.

Another important thing that I sorta already mentioned is the way they talk about it, both before and after the reveal. Before we have the scene at the video store, where they talk about "suspects", and they mess with Randy saying that according to movie logic (which he himself follows during the movie: he actually thinks in a very similar way to Billy and Stu), he could be the killer. Then there's Billys creepy-ass "it's all a movie", and I don't think that needs to be explained. And in the third act-well, it happens a lot with the "ending" and the virgin thing.

But again, as is said in the movie and I sort of said on my motives post, the way that it is a "movie" is not a "crazy" way. By this I mean that they absolutely knew what they were doing, and if they didn't do it like that they would've done it some other way. Billy himself says that "movies don't create psychos, movies make psychos more creative!". So the "artistic" side of the murders is just how the violent thoughs they surely had before manifested in this specific case, with this specific characters.

So, I've established that the murders are thought of like a movie, and why they would even do that (or why Billy would, as I said in my motives post Stu basically did it for funsies and 'cause he's in love, I don't think to him it was that deep. Though of course he still benefited from the control aspect, and maybe that paired with the murder of Casey and Steve...). Now what's left is why I think that this conception of what they were doing is actually the reason why they lost.

The main thing is obvious: in-universe, they are actually killing people with a movie plot. That is stupid behavior, because well, in real life things don't have "narratives". In real life it's not that you can't pick your genre, is that there are no genres to pick. In real life, there is no way you can control as many things as they were trying to (as they needed to for the plan to even work.)

One of those things, to me, is the fact that Dewey and Gale were not characters in their murder movie. Why would they be? They literally have nothing to do with the plot. They are outside the friend group, in a different age range, and if you narrated Scream from Billy and Stu's pov they would only appear at the end, and maybe as background characters before that. So when these two show up at the party, it's a real fucking problem. You can even see Stu a little bit after they show up, and for a second he doesn't look happy at all. We have no way to know how much they had to rework the "third act" to fit with this, but ultimately, it is because of Gale their plan fails. Gale, this random fucking reporter they see on TV sometimes.

There's also the "slasher immortality" thing. Stu himself talks about "the sequel", and in slasher franchises you basically have two ways to do that: either the slasher is the same, or the final girl is the same. The first is obviously much more common, and it's clearly what they were hoping for. The slasher can't die, so they can't die. (what they don't realize, and what makes the scream franchise sort of work even if I don't like where they took it, is that ghostface is the slasher, not the literal killers in each movie. By making their costume so obscuring of who's behind the mask, and giving ghostface a personality of their own, they are separating themselves from the slasher. You can have a sequel with different killers, because like the victims in so many slasher franchises, they are completely replaceable.)

Another reason they fail is very well known, and that's the goddamn stabbing. It's really the most stupid thing they could've done at that moment, but- knowing how things are structured for them, can we really blame them? I mean, they had to do it while Sid was alive, otherwise it wouldn't have been in "the movie". And according to the way they behave, they are so fucking sure they've won. They aren't worried at all, because in their narrative, this is the end. Everything that they accounted for is on it's place. Nothing can go wrong, right? It's a perfect ending.

And just the ending in general. As I said, the party is way too ambitious. Before that, we know they've killed four people successfully, but in all those cases they didn't have to really try that hard. Maureen was just one against the two of them, and she didn't expect it. They had total control of what happened. And the same happens with Casey and Steve: these people had no idea they could even be in danger, and there were few. Even Casey and Steve were taken care of separately. Same with the principal, and even later with Tatum. What they wanted to do with the party is, logistically, a huge jump in difficulty. But they think they can get away with it because that's how slashers work: of course there are higher stakes at the climax! It'll work out anyway, because that's what they wrote!

This overconfidence in their movie logic (ie the fact that Sid has to die because she's no longer a virgin) is what ultimately kills them, but it's not the only "movie thing" that does. Because when she ends them, Sid is literally dressed in their slasher costume, using the same lines they did before. She takes their movie and runs with it, but as she herself says, she doesn't like scary movies, so when Billy wakes up for one last scare she doesn't hesitate. She doesn't give a fuck about the so-called rules, or the narrative, or anything.

And that's why, in her movie, they fucking die.

[idontevenknowifimahumanornot]

What will bsd react when you were drunk

!WARNING : mention of self harm and do the non existing!

Idea : bsd react if you are drunk [ft. Traumatized reader

Couple : dazai x gn! Reader

Part (1/?)

You, a joyfull and loving figure to them.

you, the smiling image in theyre dreams.

you, the calm and resposible one even if the scenerio is cruel.

You, the one who knows theyre moods, jokes, theyre likes, dislike, theyre feelings.

And you, whom have shattered into million pieces and was held by your own hand. And that hand sadly slip because of a drink.

It was odd, atleast for you. dazai have invited you to go on a drink after a rather dificult mission.

You dont want to accept it really–you've been mentally and physicly tired, but yet you gladly accept.

Many suicidal thoughts was running throught your head as your changing in your apartment, it was hard to brush it off as you were, and utterly, tired.

You and him met at small yet calming in some odd way bar.

You and dazai sat in a comfortable silince, occasionally taking a sip and do a little small talk.

"Why did you invite me?" You ask casually, gaze was front to the closets of bottles. Your hand was swirling the glass at hand that was half way finish

"Hm? Because i can!" Dazai answer with a grin, he turn to look at you expecting your ussual soft smile looking at you or your adorbly cute annoyed face that also grace dazai by your gaze.

But no, he was met by a unusual sceen.

Your cheeks was dusted pink from alcohol, you forgot you dont have a high tolarence.

Your eyes seem so dull, so dull it hurt dazai. It reminds him of his old self, your usual resting face now look empty– cold and unforgiving in some way

It wound him that his grin falter– that his usual careless posture tighten. His eyes that seem to gleam when he saw you was dull.

Dull like yours.

"Did you invited me because kunikida say no?" You started out again, your mouth seem like it was moving on its own.

Your hand stop from swirling the glass "if you did...than im a second choice than...hah..." your body slump to the table, the negatuve thoughts you felt startes to came back to you, harshly.

"..." dazai kept quite, didnt know what to do, why? Why cant he do something? Is it because..

You remind him so much like himself?

His mind began to panic–no. Not another him. One is already horible and traumatize enough, he–no, everyone in this fuck up world doesnt need another him.

He hate those dull eyes of your that infront of everyone was gleaming so bright it blinds him, he hates those lips that easily lifted for everyone even if its an enemy or a foe, he hate those aid kit that you like to carry for some reason, he hate how your hair shines in the beutufull moonlight.

He hates how you tricked him into beliving you were alright.

"Maybe....maybe i should...kill myself" as you utter that word, that slash dazai thoughts. He stand up making your drunk state confused.

You stare at the eyes that was attach to his bow head.

His bangs shifted as he raise, revealing his eyes that filled with so much overwhelming emotion that makes you sick and confused.

"Dont." He utter.

He looks angry, sad, confused all at ones.

It amuse your jumbled mind for some reason. You chuckle, yoy snicker you laugh.

"Pwuahahah! W-who...pfft! Who do you think you are? Buahahah!" You laugh, you dont know why but you laugh at his worriedness.

But in the darkest pits in your heart you felt disgusted. Him, dazai, commanding you to not kill yourself? Who does this hypocrite think he is?

You felt guilty. Guilty for laughing. Guilty for making dazai worried. Yet you fekt disgusted, disgusted about yourself, disgusted about the cuts in your thight that you. Didnt even relizing it. Was lining them with your finger.

You want to puke. Oh wait, you already did.

When you spills the content inside of you, you think this is a normal sight. But to dazai its a horror.

He tremble and catch your disgusting, tears from laughing (or crying), stained with puke clothes body into him.

As his tremble hand patted your head your breathe quicken and your sobs incorrect words

"Isamso taried. I want too–i weant to jwust dissapear....i...hate i hate it!!! Why cant i be someone first choice...why am i always the second? Why cant people appreciate mu effort? My feelings? Why cant they just–" you rsmble you scream you weep and let yourself cracked in dazai hands.

As you calm down (and dazai recovering) you faint.

'Ah,' you thought. 'This is better from cutting'

-mf will be so fucking confused and scared because of how well you hide it and how you absaloutely shatter from just a half glass of alcohol😭

-will not know what to do and just, hurt him self (repeatedly) from picking your shattered pieces.

-probably will not let you touch alcahol since this accident and with appointed you to EVERY THERAPY he ever encounter,

-funny thing, kunikida catch a glimpse of dazai making a therapy appointment and was absalouteky livid and proud that he told the agency to trow a party, and when he arrives and they surprise him. He told that "oh, its not for me its for [name]"

-very out of characther for him ngl lol☝️

-if you got comfused by the end, you (as in reader) used self hsrm as a way to cope your pain

[bluegrey02]

[watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees]

He dreams of revenge pt. 1

Dallon

this is going to be a two chapter story, inspired by this dream I had

word count: 2.7K

masterlist

TW: sibling death mention, suicide mention, referenced captivity and torture, suggestive themes (nothing 18+/nsfw happens, but there's a vibe), choking, fade-to-black ending, gun mention (hopefully i got all of it? lmk if i missed something)

I'm going to kill Wesley Shaw tonight.

I tried to accept it as a fact, doubting it would only bring about a load of unnecessary anxiety, and I didn't need anything that could potentially poison the success of this mission.

We had been planning the hit for months now, everything had to be perfect. Every step had been thought through well, we had plan Bs and Cs for each and every one of them. By the end of the night that monster would be dead.

Before we entered the convention centre, Bailey and I went over our cover stories and aliases, quick, as if we were reciting a a well-learned poem.

The only good thing, I could honestly say I liked about her, was that she spoke fast. Sure, she was a great cop, with a steady aim, and she was awfully insightful, she just never shut up, and I could never get over that.

I fought the assignment hard, when the project started, I'd have been willing to work with anyone, but her. If there was a chance for a slip of a tongue compromising the mission, I would want to prevent it, even if it ruined my reputation as a good partner to be assigned with.

Fuck Bailey. I planned on doing this right, thankfully our cover stories let us spend the first half of the evening separately. It was a safety measure we took, we pretend not to know each other, so if anything goes south, we don't drag each other down. I was entirely convinced this was put in the plan for my safety, I would never let myself get in trouble like that.

She got out of the car a block away from where I did. I was to arrive from another direction, at a different time.

"You're gonna do great, Dallon!" I heard the captain's voice throught the earpiece, I would discard immediately upon arrival. We didn't wish for luck on high stakes missions like this one.

"I know" I replied with full conviction. I was going to do great and Shaw would die and it was going to be perfect.

I got out of the car just in time to spot Bailey saunter inside, flashing her wristband to the security guard. I heard her laughter from where I stood, and felt an uneasy shiver run down my spine at the thought of having to "accidentally" run into her inside and rejoin forces for the takedown.

Phase one, I go inside and mingle. I already hated it, every ounce of willingness to talk had evaporated from me, as Bailey entered the building before I did. I still had a list of conversation starters and a hell of a great ability to lie my ass off going for me. I would not enjoy a second spent in this phase, but I'd do well enough.

It was too bright inside. My skin crawled with how many bodies pressed to my side as I tried to push through the crowd. I had to keep my eyes open and actually look, which took tremendous effort to keep up against the onslaught of sensations.

My heart jumped every time I saw a feature that slightly resembled the one haunting me in my nightmares. Every glimpse of light reflected from a pair of glasses, every face with black stubble on set me off to no end.

Phase two started, when I finally spotted him. He stood off to the side, surrounded by a close circle of people with a glass of champagne in hand, a horrendously smug smile on his face. The latter might have been my imagination, he could only have been smug if he considered himself the winner of the fight already, and he didn't even know about the operation. At the end of the night I planned to make that expression, while he bleeds out on the ground and I claim self-defense.

It started off easy, I positioned myself in the crowd so that I could keep an eye on Wesley at all times. This made it significantly harder to find my partner, who should also be looking for me after she found the target. He was hard to miss and however annoying Bailey was, she was a lot more comfortable getting lost in a crowd and had a decent amount of precision to spot him, maybe even faster than I did.

It wasn't time to get closer just yet, I needed to find Bailey, and start a conversation innocuously. For that to happen I needed to actually talk to people.

I joined a larger group, where a few others seemed to be just as much of an outsider as I was, so it isn't too weird that I joined. I laughed when the others did, tried to get a word in edgewise here and there, but I wasn't paying much attention.

I was scanning the crowd for my partner's outrageous golden dress and bright ginger hair. Against all odds, she was a lot harder to spot than Wesley Shaw, in his simple black suit. We locked eyes, it seemed she had found him as well. We had entered phase two.

We had to find our way to him. Not do dwell on the details, Bailey joined my group, then we went for drinks and pretended to introduce ourselves. We weren't missed after we left and let the crowd carry us to Wesley.

He wasn't surrounded as exclusively as I imagined, he was just an attendee like we were. It made our job all the more seamless.

When we joined the conversation he was a part of, we entered phase three. Get him alone and find something to arrest him for. We had a list of everything Wesley had ever done, incriminating himself, but it would be much easier, if he gave us a reason. I wasn't one for planting evidence and such things, that was usually below me. Not this time. Wesley Shaw was going down one way or another.

His voice was deep, I could feel it rumble in my stomach and if I didn't know who he was, I would have even enjoyed it. Maybe... It was hard to say. All I could think about was Marci and the way she looked at me when we found her, and that I'm so close to making the fucker pay for it. I hated waiting.

"Do I know you from somewhere?" Wesley aimed the question at me, looking me up and down. I shivered.

"No, I don't think so" I smiled politely, and reached a hand out for him to shake. "Max Brown" It's Dallon Burke, and I'm going to kill you.

"Wesley Shaw. I swear I feel like we've met before" Do you even remember Marci? Here's a hint you, kidnapped her and tortured her for almost a year.

"I guess, I have one of those faces" She was my twin. We looked alike before you destroyed her.

"Yeah, probably" She killed herself. Did you even know that?

I had no way of keeping time as it passed by. People came and went, someone brought drinks at one point. I never left Wesley's side. The conversation was superficial, we chatted away about events, fundraisers and the dresscode, and I spoke to the best of my knowledge of what I thought Max Brown would say.

He didn't like strict black and white attires, much like the one Wesley wore. He preferred some frill and colour, as demonstrated by my dark blue, satin button-up.

I forcibly smiled as much as I could. I was used to doing it all the time, especially throughout the preparation process for this operation, because I didn't want to let everyone know how much I despised having to work with Bailey. I had reached my limit that evening and my jaw started to hurt.

I flirted with her and she with Wesley. We agreed on this beforehand, because there was no way in hell I would be able to keep up the facade for him, at least with her, I could practice beforehand.

She was smart to leave for a little while, so we didn't raise suspicion, as far as everyone else was aware, we we're strangers to each other as much as we were to them. After she got back, stumbling and slurring her words a little, acting drunk - at least I prayed it was an act, a rather prejudiced thought on my part - we set phase four into motion.

"Would you two care to join me for another drink?" the monster asked. Bailey stood close to him, leaning slightly on his shoulder, giggling like it was the best night of her life. Even though I knew it was fake, the sight left a sour taste in my mouth. "Maybe somewhere more private?"

"This place is crammed with people, do you know of some VIP area we hadn't been invited to?" I meant for the question to sound light, I think it came out a little awkward. He didn't seem to mind. Arrogant prick.

"I have a suite booked in the hotel next door" he replied smoothly. Bailey inched even closer to him, batting her eyelashes with not-so-secret intent.

"A suite? Are you rich or something?" She played dumb well. Her voice, usually sharp, even grating at times, was not soft and feminine. I wished she spoke more like that.

Wesley Shaw laughed and pulled her close by the waist. His hand didn't wander lower than it was appropriate.

"And you, Max?" He raised an eyebrow, as he inquired, I found it sort of comical as the frame of his glasses obstructed the view of the lower one. The sight of this monster of a man with only half a brow gave me enough material to laugh and smile in his direction.

"I'd love to" I made my voice deeper on purpose, so it sounded like I was actually into the idea.

We made our way back to the gates and walked over to the hotel. We locked arms with Bailey from both sides to keep her upright. I was starting to doubt whether she was actually sober.

Wesley Shaw's luxury suite was on the fifth floor. He invited us to sit in the living room, and opened up a bottle of wine from a wine cooler.

I wondered if he had brought that with himself for this occasion, or it was the courtesy of the hotel staff.

"Will you excuse me for a moment?" Wesley stood up abruptly, just after filling our glasses and making himself comfortable. "I have to make a phone call, it can't wait" He apologized again. I nodded, sure, it was fine, I was understanding. He walked into the bedroom and pulled the sliding door panel shut.

As soon as he was out of our line of sight Bailey straightened up and poured out half of what her glass contained on a plant next to the couch.

We heard as he picked up the phone, he paced the room. We couldn't hear much. Bailey immediately relaxed back against the cushions, when we heard him walk closer.

"This is going to take a while" Wesley came back to the living room, covering the microphone with one hand, he was half whispering. "You could make yourselves comfortable in the bedroom until then, my laptop is out here"

"Are you sure?" I asked with fake concern. Max Brown wouldn't want to be a rude guest. "We can leave and catch up later"

"I'm sure" He smiled warmly. It burnt my face. "Ten minutes at maximum, I'll try to make it in five, though" Wesley winked at me. I wanted to strangle him, but instead, I grabbed Bailey by the arm, maybe a bit stronger than it was necessary and pulled her up to come with me to the bedroom.

I pulled the door in, leaving it open an inch, so we could hear better.

Bailey was tense again, no sign of the alcohol induced lazy relaxed version of her. She sat on the edge of the bed, listening, still as a statue.

I concentrated as well. And when I finally picked up the thread of the conversation, I looked at Bailey in disbelief.

It couldn't have been this easy. He was dictating account numbers into the phone, with names and places. Wesley Shaw started phase five by himself.

The microphones sewn into our clothes were sensitive enough to pick all the sound up. We needed to get at least one of the devices out of here, so it can be traced immediately. Bailey was the one delivering it, I was tasked with keeping him there, using force if necessary, until we get the okay to arrest him.

Bailey put the drunken act back on. She stood up, swaying a little on her feet and walked out of the room. She whispered incoherently, from too far away and Wesley waved her off, apparently way too lost in his laptop screen.

She was out. I undid the top two buttons of my shirt and sat on the edge of the bed. I thought about how I should have drunk that glass of wine at least. Not like I needed the courage, I felt determined now more than ever. All I had to do was pull my gun, that had been safely tugged into it's strap on my ankle under my wide-legged dress pants...

I didn't feel the weight of it as I lifted my leg up. I tried the other, since I'm bad with directions, because maybe I just forgot.

There was no gun. I desperately tried to find the last moment I remembered having it. In the surveillance van I checked before I headed inside and then nothing.

Wesley had stopped talking, I realised a second too late. He was standing in the doorway, with a questioning look on his face. I looked terribly awkward, patting the side of my ankles, looking for my gun. I hoped he was drunk enough not to notice, though I didn't remember him having a single sip of any glass of beverage he had in his hands through the night.

I don't know why or how, but that set me off, and I knew that he knew. Still I tried to save the situation. If ot came to it, I would kill him with my bare hands.

"Ba- Ashley f-felt sick, she said she'd, she'd be back later" I gulped. I fucked up, I was panicking and he knew "I- I told her not to come back, if, if she gets suck" I stammered. He merely hummed and crossed the space between us with three long strides. I was sitting on the bed, he looked tall.

I really thought I was a good liar. I had been a flawless one all night, why do I have to fuck it up the single most important minute?

"Maybe it's better like that, I'd hate to have to get rid of her, if she witnessed what's happening here" Wesley lifted my chin with a finger so I had to look him in the eye. I was frozen under his gaze. At least he didn't figure Bailey's cover out.

"You look so much like her, Dallon" he leaned down. He turned my face around to inspect it from every angle.

"I didn't think you would, but it's like she's right here. I don't know why you expected this little plan of yours to work"

"I'm going to kill you" I finally found my voice again. I pictured Marci's face, that was a carbon copy of my own, beat up, bruised and pale as a ghost. I looked healthy, no bruises or scars, maybe a slight tan I got from visiting our mother back home.

I was nothing like Marci.

"Sure, you will" Wesley laughed and his hand slid down from my chin to wrap around my throat.

"If only you had your gun" he whispered in my ear, hot and sticky, and he pushed me down on my back.

My hands flew to claw at the grip on my throat, but it was futile. I felt dark spots starting to dance around the edges of my vision, and they grew and grew until it all faded to black.

[youroriginalsublimecupcakestuff]

Fem soukoku no ability AU

They're a saying in bungou highschool, that you never lived your life to the fullest if you Haven't been with Dazai Osamu .

The woman have a reputation to accept everyone with no exception even her strange habit of asking all those that she flirt with especially beautiful women for a double suicide doesn't damage her popularity.

They're a rules for her relationship no matter what they're always short, her longest relationship was with Oda sakunosuke, they broke up amicably and are still really close .

So why when she try to woo her chibi does it always go wrong ? Obviously it's all the stupid chibi's fault.

They say that love goes throught stomach so she had a fool proof plan : She'll make her the best bento that she'll ever had and she'll had no choice but to admit that the cutest, greastest and tallest dazai osamu is perfect for her and it will make chuuya's confess to her.

So why does her first try had a violet color and made chuuya pass out, sure she fantasized about making chuuya faint due to her charm but not like that, she nearly got arrested when her second bento produced a chemical gaze, her third bento was classified by the press and the government as weapon of mass destruction and her fourth bento exploded in chuuya's face.

And it was worse on Valentine day this stupidest and most oblivious chibi is popular with both gender which if you ask dazai very smart opinion it say a lot about the IQ of the students populations to find a slug charming, it's so pitiful she could cry.

It made that chuuya locker is always full of chocolate and others sweet and of course as a good and responsable owner, she have to make sure that chuuya does not see them after all knowing her silly chibi, she will either go into debt or overwork herself trying to give a return gift to all those who gave her present, so she's just being a responsable owner , she should be praised really.

She even do the rare efforts of going to school in advance and she's so generous that she share it all with their friends , she's just doing good deed really , after all ranpo-san, kyouka-chan and Kenji-kun are always so happy to receive them , she's such a good person.

With the help of her friend she tried to give chuuya handmade chocolate but her best result looked and tasted like a burn rock.

And it's not her only attempt, she tried making grand gesture but she only though them as prank, she even made a confession when they we're fifteen and chuuya acted disgutted , all that she does caused misunderstanding and chaos.

In the end it was her chibi who confessed and dazai's made sure to be compensated and pampered lots and lots for her trouble.

[halloweenreaper]

I think if Dazai got a psych diagnosis it would be Borderline Personality Disorder. Hear me out. He hits just about every sympton listed on the Mayo Clinic's website. Suicidal and feelings of emptiness are shown throught BSD. We see him being involved in risky behavior (gambling, drinking, literally putting himself in dangerous situations/harms way). Inappropriate, strong anger is a bit harder to catch since his isn't physical or loud like Chuuya, instead Dazai tends to get sarcastic and bitter as we see in 15 or he gets "even," if someone one ups him he attempts to destroy them as we see with Fyodor and as shown with the quote Oda had about Dazai’s enemies. His relationships are rather unstable (don't think anyone will argue with me there) and there is an argument that he has abandonment issues which is why he keeps people at arms length, kinda a "you didn't leave me, I pushed you away" deal. If you're paying attention you can also catch when he's manic and when he's masking. Most of the time, he's masking. One exception is at Lupin Bar with Oda and Ango. He's not as over the top like when he's masking, but he's also much more excitable than usual. It's a subtle difference and I've found that it's not shown in the anime as much as it is the novels.

Please note: I say this as someone who is diagnosed neurospicy, so my personal experience may be at play in my analysis.

[sweetblinginrose]

sweetchestnut,

(Billy Hargrove x fem¡OCMayfield)

Samantha Danielle Mayfield finally decides to move to Hawkins with her sister and mother, as well as her mother's new husband and his arrogant son, William "Billy" Hargrove. what they are unaware of is that, gradually, these step-siblings will discover that the line between contempt and passion is more fragile than they supposed, and what begins as shared hostility turns into an intense and undeniable attraction that both find themselves unable to resist.

warnings: read at your own risk, as it includes a continuous sexual environment, profanity, mention of death and suicide, step-sibling relationship, sex, and all its derivatives.

words: 2,5k +

author’s note: i have decided to rewrite this story after so long, so i will tag some people who interacted with my old story. if you don't want to be tagged, let me know and no problem i will remove you and not tag you again 🩵.

(if someone wants to be tagged just tell me)

this work is entirely my own creation. that is to say, i have not based it on anyone else's, so any resemblance to any other work is purely coincidental, as i have been using this format for all my stories since 2019. i hope you enjoy the story. if you find any translation errors, something you don't understand, or similar, please let me know.

masterlist next chapter

━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━ ✧♡✧ ━━

Chapter One: Shot Throught The Heart - Bon Jovi

Samantha Danielle Mayfield. Yes, Mayfield. She found the surname Hargrove detestable.

Ever since that fateful day when Neil Hargrove took Susan from the arms of the two young girls' father, Samantha has been unable to forgive her mother. She chose to stay with her father indefinitely, firmly resolved not to see her mother's face again, or so she believed. Susan had "betrayed" the Mayfields, fracturing the relationship between Max and Samantha to the point of only allowing them sporadic encounters, plunging both sisters into deep sadness.

As the years passed, they got used to seeing each other only on weekends, and everything seemed to be going well. Until one day, a letter arrived at the Sam residence, which read:

“Hello Sammy,

I am writing to invite you to my wedding with Neil in a few months. We are very happy and wish to share our joy with you. Also, there are some things we need to discuss in person that you should know.

With love,

mom.”

Samantha received the news with displeasure, but over time she understood that everyone is free to decide about their life and that she had to respect it, as nothing would change to please her wishes. So, swallowing her pride, she began the search for a dress for the occasion.

The ceremony went off without incident. Max and Sam were playing cards when Susan stealthily approached her eldest daughter and whispered the dreaded words:

“We need to talk.”

Upon hearing her mother's prepared speech, Samantha burst into tears. She couldn't bear the idea of her mother taking Maxine away from her. Her sister was almost her best friend; separating them was an act of selfishness, wasn't it?

Samantha's reaction was intense. She screamed how great her hatred was for that family, capturing the attention of all those present and ruining part of the wedding. She insulted everyone for the last time and fled in search of a phone booth to call her father, who consoled her, equally affected, trying to convince her that it wouldn't be so bad, that they could keep in touch and visit occasionally.

After the incident, they decided to postpone the move for another year, until early 1984, due to the girl's immature behavior and the deterioration of her father's health, whose lung cancer was advancing inexorably. Months later, at the end of 1984, the girls' father died, unable to fight the cancer that rapidly consumed his weakened body, leaving a huge void in both, but especially in Samantha. She decided not to inform anyone, except her sister through a letter that would arrive a month later, which meant that Samantha lived alone during that time, surviving with difficulty.

The news devastated Maxine, who informed her mother. Susan, very worried, called Samantha repeatedly, not knowing that her daughter had escaped. She called all the authorities in California to find her daughter.

Samantha distanced herself from everything and everyone. She left behind friends and family, taking with her only a letter from Max, some clothes, and the little money she had left. Just the day before Christmas, guided by the offers at the bus stations and the address in Maxine's letter, Sam decided to go to Hawkins, Indiana. Her arrival on December 24, '84, was a Christmas gift for her distressed mother, who interrupted her prayers upon hearing the doorbell. Seeing the familiar face, Susan burst into tears, hugging her daughter tightly and shouting for joy. The commotion attracted everyone present, who ran to witness the emotional reunion between the two redheads and the brunette at the door.

═══════ .˚♡˚. ════════

Six months had passed since the death of their father, and five since her arrival in Hawkins.

Samantha had settled just in time for the start of the second academic term. Despite the widespread interest in befriending her, she only forged ties with a select and quite different group, as most did not pique her interest. Among her new friends was the one she liked best, Keith, the affable young man in charge of the game room, the Arcade, who offered her employment during the school year upon seeing her go there so often, forging a solid friendship based on common interests; two ruby-haired girls, Vicki and Nicole, with whom she shared lunch in the cafeteria and moments of hidden cigarettes under the staircase; and the charming Nancy Wheeler, who became a great ally during Sam's first days of adaptation. Obviously, in the best position was her little sister, Maxine, whom she sneaked into the Arcade and would give everything for. Despite all this, Danielle was quite flirtatious, so she liked to attract the attention of boys, flirt and play with their feelings when she went out at night with Vicki and Nicole. On the other hand, there were people that the brunette couldn't stand, the most notable being her stepbrother, Billy, and his close circle, except for the two redheads mentioned earlier. Exhausted by his arrogant attitude, the girl promised herself that one day she would punch that stupid face. The animosity was mutual. Even when Neil, her stepfather, forced Billy to take the sisters home and bring them from the institute, he occasionally "forgot" his duty, leaving them stranded there, returning on foot. To top it off, the intensity of their two characters caused constant altercations at home, always ending with Neil hitting and scolding Billy or yelling and blaming Susan for the behavior of his eldest daughter, which caused even worse behavior on the part of the eldest, who couldn't stand her mother, but after all, she was the one who had brought her into the world, so she didn't quite like the idea of someone raising their voice to her progenitor.

═══════ .˚♡˚. ════════

Neil and the sisters’ mother had left for California, as they needed to take care of some paperwork related to the Hargrove family’s old residence. It was important to have an in-person conversation with the lawyer. As a result, they would be back in a couple of hours. For Sam, this meant the freedom to sleep all day without anyone bothering her.

At eight in the morning, the couple woke up the kids to inform them of their departure, mentioning that they would return early in the morning. After that, everyone seemed to fall back asleep. The older siblings were tasked with supervising Max, a duty that didn’t seem challenging.

Samantha easily drifted off to sleep. Final exams were over, summer vacation was just around the corner, and the air conditioning in her room promised refuge from the summer heat. She discarded her pants, leaving herself in underwear and an oversized T-shirt, and nestled under the sheets in an idyllic climate. However, the teenager’s perfect plan was interrupted when, in her dream, Billy appeared wearing his ridiculous oversized blue tracksuit. This time, it looked even more comically large, and the music thundered until Sam felt like her eardrums would burst, abruptly waking her up. The strident melody wasn’t part of her dream; it was coming from the room next door, Billy’s room.

The volume was excessive.

Sam tried to ignore it, not wanting to confront Billy today. In fact, she had considered completely ignoring her stepbrother’s existence during this time. She attempted to drown out the sound with her pillows, but after several failed attempts, she jumped out of bed, ripped off her sleep mask, and flung it across the room. It collided with a poster of Tom Cruise, adorned with lipstick marks on his massive cheek. Angry, she smacked the clock that read nine-thirty in the morning.

“Does this idiot have no brain?” she muttered aloud, delivering a blow to the alarm clock. The battery popped out, rolling under the bed.

With resounding steps, she marched toward the door, which she flung open with such force that it slammed against the wall, enlarging the existing hole with each slam. But that was inconsequential at the moment. What truly mattered was throttling Billy until he was breathless. Samantha advanced down the hallway, possessed by rage, until she reached her stepbrother’s door. She pounded on it frantically, demanding that he either lower the music volume or turn it off altogether. After a series of forceful knocks and numerous unanswered shouts, she decided to swing the door open abruptly, not anticipating the scene that awaited her on the other side.

“Billy, I'm so sick of you blasting music at this hour… Oh, shit!” Sam burst into the room, her eyes narrowed in fury, words pouring out rapidly. As she opened her eyes wider, she was met with an unusually peculiar sight…

The increasing wave of moans and lascivious sounds, both male and female, erupted, intertwined with powerful music, completely flooding the house, not just limited to the bedroom. Among these gasps, those of a blonde who shared Billy’s presence stood out. The young woman lay naked, reclined on the bed, which, along with the sheets, seemed to slide down inexorably, although at that moment, surely, that was not her main concern. Although her bust was quite small, it bounced in an unexpected way. They looked like… flan? Billy’s fingers sank into her waist, squeezing with an intensity as if his life depended on it. However, the problem was that Sam had caught Billy in the act of carnal activity, that is, fucking. She had taken in the sweat that soaked his body, slightly dampening his hair, which clung to his forehead and neck; the deep growls that escaped from his lips; the vigorous and fast movement of his hips and the roar that emanated from them; the expression of concentration manifested in his firm bite on his lower lip, and in his eyes, those that said everything, which met Samantha’s just as she opened them, unleashing an involuntary scream from both of them.

“Holy-. Sam! You don’t know how to knock on a damn door? Get the hell out!” he exclaimed with a startled and hoarse voice, covering himself as best he could with the sheet that, as he pulled it, caused the girl who was covered to fall off, not caring at all that his companion was completely uncovered. He quickly threw a magazine, which landed right on the young woman’s shoulder, who closed the door probably faster than the speed of light.

Samantha was frozen, staring at the white wooden door, marked with several scratches and holes from Billy’s punches from inside, reflecting on what had just happened and how to erase that moment from her mind.

“Holy shit…” she gasped. It was the only thing that could come out of her lips at that moment.

“What’s going on?” Max asked behind her, yawning and startling her, almost giving her a heart attack. “I just woke up because of the screams. Are you guys fighting again?” she asked her older sister innocently, assuming that everything boiled down to a usual argument, and without hesitation, taking her side.

Sam nodded and smiled. That was all she did.

“Why don’t you make breakfast today? I… I have to go to the bathroom… yeah.” The young woman sneaked away, reaching the bathroom and locking it, leaning her hands on the sink as she stared at herself in the mirror. She began to lift her shirt and compare herself with the figure of the blonde she had seen because Sam believed her breasts were small, but upon seeing them, she changed her mind. What Samantha didn’t realize was that her distorted perception of her body was leading her to see herself that way, given the taunts she had received from her former friends and, now, Billy, when in reality, she had an enviable figure.

After splashing cold water on her face, she decided to use the toilet before going to breakfast, realizing that she had wet her underwear while recalling the scene with her stepbrother. She couldn’t believe it. It all seemed like a lie to her.

“What’s happening to me?” she wondered, putting her hand on her forehead to check for a fever.

A few moments later, Sam perceived voices coming from the bathroom window facing the street. She interrupted her actions to look out cautiously, still with her panties down, watching as the blonde she had seen in Billy’s room just minutes ago had a heated argument with her stepbrother, who had just received a slap.

“You promised me we would be alone, you jerk,” the girl’s voice echoed in the distance as she got into her car and drove away from the Hargrove residence, extending her middle finger in a defiant gesture through the window, gradually disappearing on the horizon. Samantha felt a deep sense of relief upon confirming that the girl had left. She exhaled deeply and left the bathroom with the intention of savoring the aroma that had attracted her so much: freshly made waffles by Max. However, upon leaving, she came face to face with Billy, who appeared before her wearing only his underwear, exposing his happy trail situated between his V, and a cigarette between his lips. His skin was so covered in sweat that it gave the impression he had just emerged from the shower.

“Move,” he demanded with authority, firmly gripping the girl’s arm and moving her on his own with a gentle but strong push, causing one of her breasts to rub against his damp bicep.

“Don’t touch me, Billy,” threatened the girl, a little uncomfortable with everything that had happened earlier, walking away toward the kitchen.

═══════ TAGS ════════

@suckmystoneysworld @simpfortargaryens @kelsj21 @fifitheflowertotsposts @livingdeadrey @bearomanoff18 @sizzlingpartylightpeach @elenaa199 @lovelyjaelyn2007 @sassyblazecloud12 @strangerthing93 @teddy4suna @g-cf2020 @filthykimmy @paradisepoisons @astro-menace @manzanitaa @eirose94 @waterfi @shelbyraehay13 @elenaa199 @aneareyouok @sassyblazecloud12 @rickgrimesismydaddy1 @kiwi-unique @maydaylovex @eirose94 @sanguwuxyoonbummy @lostdreamingwallflower

[wrecked-cuticles]

I've been trying to phrase it funny but i really can't joke about it.

10 years ago I was i was a suicidal baby lesbian, kissing her "best friend" in the neglected, run down park next to their house after school. I did not think 20 was a real age or that it ever gets better.

The park was a popular spot for smoking weed, intravenous drug use and underage drinking because at that time my neighbourhood was a "ghetto" and the park lacked lighting. Queer affection just used to fit into that. Noone was there to witness anything.

A couple of days ago I was walking home throught that park. It has new pavement, new lamp posts and new benches. A lot of the latter. It used to have 4 broken ones.

And that day I saw two teenage girls kissing on of those benches. Broad daylight, kids playing in the new playground they installed, old people chatting around the excersice machines and these two. I can't describe the feeling. It was queer joy and so much more.