#im on the brink of killing myself
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does anyone know of better ways to make money? im currently on the edge of homelesseness (and i refuse to be homeless, so if that happens i WILL kms /srs) and im currently working minimum wage, around 200-300 a month
minimum wage is evil, why are people paid so little, and it barely covers utilities, why is the world evil? im just someones daughter trying to exist, and I cant even do that without everything edging me onto the brink of suicide, i need help, and places that give help WONT help, and when i do find a place to live its already bought out by someones sweet 16
im starting to wonder if anyone in my area will need a roommate, or if i can just live off of a car, if I had a car and a better paying job i would have at least a little chance of survival, but its expensive, and you need a damn good memory for a drivers license
would my life be different if i was born a boy, if my trauma didnt affect me to the point of a dissociative identity disorder, what would have happened if i wasnt my fathers daughter, or if i had a different mother, what would have happened if i wasnt a dreamer, or if i didnt have mental illness, what would have happened if i had a chance
#vent#i fucking hate living#im on the brink of killing myself#i just realized yesterday i was in an abusive home#but i don't have the means to escape it#i only have two months before my brother leaves me to fucking rot#why was i born this way#why couldn't i have at least a surviving chance#why does god hate his soldiers
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hope u guys don't mind me being a little queer sometimes and talking to myself in the tags, it helps clear my head since people can filter out rant posts easily
#bc i had not used this place in a while until late 2022 ive absolutely forgotten if i used to talk to myself in tags here before or not#i say this bc i now have people who actively see my art here n just throwing random rants here would be very rude so i prefer tags help#feels safer here too LOL#also feels a little scary but im sure that's normal for many that there are ppl who read all tags mein gott#NOT A BAD THING THAT PPL READ TAGS i wouldn't be writing anything if i wanted to kill people for reading tags lol#just stating observations aheem aheem#its like writing on a public bathroom's walls and people passing by to be like “damn bitch ok” /funny#also do not worry at all about how i express myself i do apologize if my words sometimes sound like im on the brink but like#violence is the only way i love to be expressive HELP#watch me be on the government watchlist for the shit ive said gootbyeeeeeeee#but do not feel worried i will be ok eventually every time. sometimes i just gotta explode oh so violently to deflate and feel normal again#WISH I COULD USE EMOJIS ON THIS DAMN PC#anyway the person im trying my damned to avoid is Sure Making It Difficult#at least the people i wanted to know why i was autotune crying baby for a while heard me out n im alive in that regard finally smile emoji#how long can you keep gently hinting you want to distance yourself from somebody until you lose your goddam mind and feel sweet relief when#they actually leave said group themselves after getting my blunt hints help help#oh i sound so fucking rude with just my side but mein gott i don't care bc it was never a serious thing to begin with#just shot my anger thru the roof for good reason and finalliegh im getting mutual distance from that person lol#never get close with ur fave artists worst mistake of my life /hj for real#u start off loving seeing them every time and then boom youre sad how things turned out every time you see them my god#also make sure ur minor friends dont feel like they need to mend things for the adults i feel so fucking sad for someone bc of this rn but#i talked to them n hopefully they understand aouhg.#anyway back to queer posting thats enough soup for today good god#ranting
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It's been over half a year now and I still haven't forgiven The Bitch for what they pulled and have low-key started hoping they get absolutely clobbered by the consequences of their own actions and I do not know how to feel about it.
#candyskiez vent#genuinely cannot wish them well after what they did and i don't know how to feel about that#i cannot hope they move on and are happy. i just... can't#i love them. i miss them.#but i can't wish them well.#i cant wish them the best or hope theyre doing well wherever they are#not after they pushed me to the brink of nearly killing myself. i can't wish fhem well.#i almost killed myself because of them. i cant hope theyre okay after that#i just. cant. i cant do that.#the shit they pulled almost killed me. i can't hope they're okay. i wish i never met them.#i can't wish them well knowing i almost died because of what they did. knowing that i still am heavily considering killing myself#STILL partly because of what they did#i can't forgive them. i can't hope they feel better and that life treats them well and blah blah blah#sometimes i wish they get whats coming for them and other times i just#am so neutral on it. so blank on it#just. wishing i never met them. because wpuldnt that be better#I'm over it but at the same time im not#I'm over the fear they're gonna ruin my life but im not ove the fact i almost ended mine because of them#and im not over the fact they hurt me#does that make sense?#tw suicide
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#i have a trauma from when i was one#that i dont remember what happened that had me screaming#but after it was done and i walked off i fractured and that part of me broke off#i shouldve been killed at that point#i only had one friend ever after that and i had to endure horrific abuse at home#as constant bullying#then psychiatic abuse and then police/judical abuse#and now im suck constantly and am developing an autoimmune disease#and my psych has told me to not be friends with colleagues#i am quite broken but thankful that my abusers are keeping a roof over my head#im stuck and sick and constantly derealised/depersonalised#i dont know what kind of joke this is but im rly not enjoying it atm#and im sick of being told or made to feel like i dont understand whats going on when#i have yet to meet another person who is on a brink of understanding what is going on#no one does but like... i feel like i 'get it' a lot better than most...#why did this happen to me.... im not special and ive tried 99% of the time to be good#how do i get out without continuing to make myself physically sick#everything is stagnant#and youre all do stupid#just as stupid as i am#just very very different stupid
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That feel when a crisis center decides your crisis seems a little too big and also what do you need a crisis intervention for anyway when your therapy starts in some 30 days?
Like ok slay I guess I'll have to haul my ass to the other crisis center, where I didn't want to go because they tend to dismiss people's problems as too small, first thing in the morning and if they tell me to get the fuck out I'm just killing myself for real and nobody will be able to say I didn't try.
#like if i come there and tell them that I'm really on the fucking brink I'm holding it together with nothing but duct tape#and if i don't talk to someone right fucking now i might just kill myself#and they tell me to come back when I'm in the middle of dying#im really actually just gonna jump under a train and i am not kidding#like that's not a joke that's an actual plan. my plan of action for the past week has been: 1. try crisis center 1. 2. try crisis center too#3. if neither do anything just kill myself by jumping off a bridge or my faculty or under a train#that's literally my plan like i am tired im miserable im exhausted i feel powerless and incompetent and im bottling#everything up like a fine bottle of champagne and i swear to all that is holy if nobody gives me a chance to unload#all of it right fucking now I'm gonna blow like fireworks and die
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i will never make a post like this again probably but crazy how it’s like i don’t even exist to my parents unless they want to berate me for something
#they aren’t even parents really i just live with them i barely ever see them ngl. i mean they’re there. but they’re not there eh#srsly i could probably be on the brink of death and they wouldn’t notice. UNLESS it inconveniences them in some way : hooray#even then . if they have to go out of their way to do something for me they will groan and go Cant you just toughen up?#like wow. this is really helpful im so glad i came to you this one time. if i could get rid of my physical issues i would dear parents#and they seem to forget everything. to have to do with me. then they go you never told me!! i did. 20 times#whatever i’ll probably kill myself anyways doesn’t matter. in the long run TRULY!!#okay no sorry i lied. maybe i’ll just go to college or something. i guess. tho my passions? they aren’t passioning#just speaking into the air bruhhh
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think I'm gonna attempt sleep. idk if it's because I was up all night or what but I'm just not feeling it right now :c
#《 ° selkie.exe 》 oh im trash just not approved trash#° mobile post !#° to be deleted !#° personal !#i hate to miss bg3 group but i just. i already feel like im on the brink of becoming overwhelmed#and its already so draining. i dont want to become a grump or put myself in a bad emotional / mental state#like. i have serious fomo and want to hang out with my friends but#idk how much fun id be right now and dont want to kill the vibe for everyone else#i feel so bad ditching but i just. its better this way right ? i wish i could convince myself :'D
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anyone got any tips on getting art industry jobs w/o a college degree bc holy fuck this shit is horrendous /oAo;\
#nebbles talks#s.struggling to. survive working full time and still trying to get an illustration degree..#wish i. couldve taken the semesters off for work again like i did last year#but. unfortunately. since someone decided to change lanes w/o checking for. yknow. traffic in that lane. i now have an extra $200/month#to pay in bills. :)))))#not to mention the horrendous interest rate i got fucked over with :)))))))))#not even looking at the terrible financial stress the stress of these classes themselves is INSANE#like. one prof says hes ''simulating working with real clients'' with how he formats the class#which to him just means 'im going to assign you three major projects at once'#each of which have overlapping and hard set due dates for an asinine amount of preliminary work that can take up to 6 hours EACH#plus you have to submit at least 2 pages for all your preliminary work describing WHY you chose your colors or shapes#and HOW the colors and shapes are effective visual elements#and then you also have to submit a mini essay that describes how your art might fair against other real businesses art and illustrations#like. my guy. i have to work 35 hours a week. and do homework for 4 other classes.#i cannot physically keep up. with that kind of a pace. without killing myself in the process with self-neglect#just. do not understand why i have to run myself ragged and to the brink of total collapse and failure.#just so i MIGHT get improved odds of getting a decent job that wont even help me get above the poverty line#like. i wanna be able to make art for a living and be able to live comfortably#but that just doesn't seem like its possible in the society thats currently set up rn#just. AUHG#;w;
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ᡣ𐭩 MAKE YOU FEEL LIKE NEVER BEFORE
FEATURING: dazai osamu
SUMMARY: your patience is thinning. despite having a conversation with dazai and being led to believe everything is okay, he's suddenly avoiding you again. luckily, or maybe unluckily, his hand is forced when he realizes that you're not waiting for him this time. whether he likes it or not, this confrontation is happening—except you slowly realize as it goes on that dazai's definition of intimacy is dreadfully different from yours.
{wordcount: 10.4k; ņsfw; fem!reader, pm!reader, i wouldn't say this is angst but it does deal with some references to heavy topics; jealous!dazai, depictions of dissociation (dazai), dazai's on the brink of a mental breakdown for a bit in the beginning, references to abuse (dazai. no actual depictions), references to dubcon (dazai. no actual depictions), dazai is wildly intelligent but not so much when it comes to sex & other forms of intimacy (he is quite uneducated in fact), slight oral (male rec), unprotected sex, sub!dazai, dazai and reader argue for a bit (he calls her a whore - doesn't mean it but still says it)}
AUTHOR'S NOTES: 😒i hope you guys know im sitting here glaring at my computer because i did not want to post this fic. it's been sitting in my google drive for like AGES and im literally having to physically force myself into formatting this post because i wanted to keep it hoarded forever. anyway, read the warnings for this one pretty pls, this fic is a bit loaded—not exactly angst, but it references some heavy topics. let me know if any warnings are missing as always!
“I’m so sick and tired of him.”
You listen as Chuuya lets out another heavy sigh next to you, pointedly taking a sip of his wine, but you don’t even bother to glance at him as you glare down at your phone. Left on read, again, Dazai ignores your message asking him to meet you and Chuuya at the bar. You slam your phone down on the dark wood of the bar top before reaching for your own glass, taking a large gulp of it before opening your mouth to continue complaining, much to Chuuya’s displeasure.
“I thought things would be different after we talked. He moved back into my apartment but he’s still avoiding me like the fucking plague. I mean Christ, I broke up with my boyfriend, came crawling back to him because I knew he was pissed even though he’d rather kill himself—literally—than admit he likes me. Why the fuck can’t he even given an inch? Meet me halfway?”
“Because he’s Dazai,” Chuuya says dryly. “What did you expect from him, honestly? … And we all know you weren’t going to stick with that civilian.”
“Oh, shut up,” you tell him bitterly. “That’s not the point. The point is I did, and I went right to him, and we talked, and he acted like everything was fine, and now he’s pulling this shit. How is he going to live in my fucking apartment and avoid me at every corner? And whenever I do manage to catch him, he makes up some bullshit excuse about a mission I know he doesn’t have and disappears.”
You lean back in your chair, brows furrowed and fingers curled around your glass. By now, all of the people that had been sitting near the two of you at the bar have dispersed to the dancefloor—if your arrival with Chuuya hadn’t been enough to send them scattering, your foul mood was more than enough to make them give you a wide berth.
“I’m frustrated,” you finally hiss. “I’m just frustrated, am I allowed to be frustrated, Chuuya?”
Chuuya side-eyes you. “Stop fuckin’ complaining to me about it and do something about it, jeez,” he says, hand sliding into his pocket to pull out a cigarette, holding it between his lips as he fumbles for a lighter to light it.
“Have you been listening to a word I’ve said?” you ask, becoming increasingly more irritated as you pull out your own lighter to light it for him. “I tried talking to him, now he’s ignoring me.”
Chuuya has the audacity to roll his eyes, looking at you with an unimpressed expression that makes you want to pluck his cigarette out of his mouth and put it out on his skin. As if he can hear your thoughts, he leans back, giving you a suspicious look.
“I’m not talking about that shithead,” Chuuya drawls. “If you’re so frustrated, go find some sorry bastard to fuck it out of you. We both know that’s all it takes to get you to settle down.”
“Fuck you,” you say instantly, not appreciating how he acts like you’re a nympho. But already, your gaze is carding across the room, trying to see if someone catches your eye. When you find yourself disappointed, you look back at him and ask, “You offering yourself up?”
Chuuya barks out a laugh. “Fuck no,” he tells you instantly. “No way. Don’t even say that shit to me.”
You’re almost offended, squinting at him and leaning back in your seat. “Why not? Like old times. You know what I like, I know what you like, we can make a good night out of it,” you propose as you lean your elbow on the bartop and observe him.
“Because shitty Dazai will never let me hear the end of it if he finds out,” Chuuya says pointedly, taking a long drag of his cigarette. “Bastard is annoying as is, if he finds out I’ve slept with you? It’d be the end of the world.”
“You have slept with me though, Chuuya,” you taunt. “Who’s to say I won’t tell him anyway?”
You won’t, but you like the way Chuuya’s lip curls up in irritation around his cigarette.
“Go ahead,” he tells you. “I’ll tell him all about that time in Osaka.”
You gasp, scandalized. “Chuuya,” you hiss. “You would not. You swore.”
“Try me,” Chuuya says, raising his eyebrows at you, looking all too smug as you flounder for a response.
Humbled, and a bit mortified, you return to looking around the club, lowering your standards this time. You spot a blonde standing in the corner of the club, eyes flitting around curiously as he observes the people on the dancefloor, and a redhead laughing wildly as she spins with a drink in hand, teetering off to the edge of the floor. You purse your lips.
“No one is catching my attention,” you complain, sinking back down in your seat.
You decidedly don’t like the smirk that edges onto his lips as he looks at you, and it’s for good reason, because the next words out of his mouth have your eye twitching: “You’re that down bad for him already? Jesus.”
“I am not,” you spit out, glaring at him before pointedly returning to your hunt, looking around more intensely this time.
But even as you do that, you start to wonder if that’s why no one is standing out to you tonight. How the fuck is anyone supposed to compare to Dazai Osamu? The thought is ridiculous—you don’t want to tug at blonde hair to pull someone down into a kiss, you don’t want a head of tousled red locks buried between your thighs, there’s only one person you actually want in your bed and he’s been avoiding you since you talked things out with him.
You let out a heavy sigh, considering just admitting defeat, but then your eyes drift to a tall, dark haired man entering the club, making his way over to the bar; his hair is a bit too long and a bit too straight, and his eyes aren’t the right shade, but they’re sharp enough and you’re tipsy enough to willfully confuse them for the familiar brown you desire.
“Nevermind,” you breathe out. Chuuya doesn’t even spare you a goodbye as you slip from your seat to make your way over to the man, lifting his hand in a lazy wave. “I found someone.”
Chuuya was right.
You think maybe you should stop doubting him as much as you do. This is not the first time that you’ve fought him tooth and nail about something only for him to be proven right in the end. But you’re not going to tell him that because he has a big enough ego and you’re not going to feed into it.
Dealing with Dazai’s fickleness the past two weeks has been much easier now that you’re fucking out your frustrations with strangers as soon as he’s gone for the night on whatever mission Mori assigns him. You take his aloofness in stride, ignoring the way he blows you off and avoids you in your own home. You think it’s bothering him, actually, because now when you walk past him without a second glance, you can see the way he hesitates from the corner of your eye, an indecipherable expression crossing over his face.
Good, you think. You hope he feels like shit.
You let out a soft breath as you tilt your head to the side, giving the man you’re with better access. From the corner of your eye, with the tousled brown hair, you can almost pretend it’s him, but you know it’s not. His hair isn’t as soft as Dazai’s, who all but hijacked your expensive shampoos and conditioners, and you can’t feel the bandages that should be tucked beneath the tufts of hair. Your mind starts to drift, comparing how you think Dazai’s touch would be to this man’s. When you first kissed him, he was unsure and hesitant, would he still be now? Or has he grown more confident? You think he must’ve, you’ve seen him with people during events, lips tilted up in a sensual smile, lashes fluttering as he leads them into one of the backrooms.
Sick and unfair, you think to yourself bitterly.
You let out a heavy, disappointed sigh.
“You good?” the man asks—you don’t remember his name, you don’t even know if you cared to ask. His voice is distinctly different from Dazai’s low hum whenever he teases you, a total immersion-break from your desired reality.
You roll your eyes, irritated. “Don’t speak.”
The man lets out a noise of agreement, fingers biting a bit harder into your waist as he continues kissing down your neck. You don’t really mind, the sting is nice, just enough force to draw your mind away from Dazai. The sigh you let out is more pleased now, eyes slipping shut as his hands slide up your body, kisses trailing down your neck to your collarbone. His lips are too soft; Dazai’s are horribly chapped no matter how much chapstick you force on him.
Dazai is out on another “mission”. You don’t even know if it’s a real mission or if he’s just claiming it’s a mission so he doesn’t have to stick around the apartment while you’re there, lowering the chances of running into you. For all you know, he’s just going back to that shitty shipping container he spent a year in and hanging out there until you leave for one of your own missions or a meeting. He looked particularly sullen as he left earlier, casting looks back to where you’d disappeared into the kitchen, not realizing you could still see him before he finally left your apartment.
He’s such a pain in the ass, you think, getting irate again as he drifts back into your thoughts. He makes everything so difficult, things would be so much easier he just admitted that he wanted to be with you. You really don’t know how much more of this back and forth, wishy-washy shit you can take from him. You care about Dazai. You do. Probably more than anyone else in your life and you’re sick of him taking it for granted.
You hum in approval when the man lifts his hands to your button-up, hesitating as he waits for your consent, and your gaze flicks up to the ceiling as he continues kissing down the revealed skin; from the crook of your neck to your collarbone, between your breasts, he unbuttons all the way to your navel.
You find yourself a bit bored, counting the specks on the ceiling, taking note of the crack that you’re sure is somehow Dazai’s fault. You think there must only be two more buttons left for him to undo before you can slide the shirt off of your shoulders but you start to feel uncomfortable under his touch, you feel prickly and his lips trailing down your body makes your skin crawl.
“Off,” you finally say, voice sharp. You press your hand against his shoulder to push him off of you, sitting up straight to sit properly on the couch. You scowl as you fumble through your pants pockets to find a cigarette.
This is Dazai’s fault somehow.
“Did I do something wrong?” the man asks hesitantly, trying to shift closer to you again. “I-”
“No,” you say bluntly, lighting the cigarette and lifting it to your lips. “Get out of my apartment.”
The man hesitates, you can feel his eyes lingering on you and you’re becoming increasingly more irritated, shooting him a glare from the corner of your eye until he finally rises to his feet, buttoning his shirt as he makes his way over to the elevator. You slump back against the couch, sighing as you look up at the ceiling and take a long drag from your cigarette.
Dazai’s fault. As soon as he crossed your mind, your whole demeanor had changed and you try to convince yourself that it’s because you just don’t know what his issue is. You don’t know why he’s avoiding you, you don’t know what changed after you met with him at the bar; you thought things would be good between the two of you. You thought you’d be able to be with him now that nothing’s left in your way but evidently there still is something preventing the two of you from being together and it’s something that Dazai is not sharing with you.
Bastard, you think bitterly, about to pull out your phone to send Chuuya a very irritated and very foul message about Dazai but before you can, the elevator leading up to your floor bings and you look up to watch the man you’d invited over leave.
Except as the doors slide open, you realize that someone is already standing in there.
You sit up straight when you see Dazai standing in the elevator, black gaze trained right on the man leaving your apartment. His movements are almost robotic as he steps out of the elevator, his head twisting to follow the man as he steps in the elevator. He looks distinctly unnerved as Dazai’s soulless gaze tracking him until the elevator doors slide back shut.
It’s only then that Dazai only turns to look at you. His face is eerily void of emotion as he looks at you, gaze dipping down to your unbuttoned shirt and the light bruises blooming on your neck and collarbone. You tilt your head to the side as you observe him, wondering if he’s going to say something, but he only stands there staring at you.
“I thought you had a mission,” you finally say, leaning forward to put your cigarette out on the ashtray on the coffee table to button up your shirt half way so you’re not nearly undressed. When you finish, you pick up your glass of wine and take a sip. “You’re back early.”
“I finished early,” Dazai replies, monotonic.
He doesn’t budge from where he’s standing, limbs stiff and face blank. You glance down, noticing that he’s holding something in his right hand—a bag, takeout, maybe? Looks like it’s from that place in Hodogaya-ku that you like.
“What’s that?” you ask, nodding toward the bag. Dazai follows your gaze down to it, staring at it as if he doesn’t even know what it is. You frown, becoming a bit concerned as you rise to your feet. “Dazai, you good?”
Dazai’s gaze doesn’t leave the bag for a second; after what feels like an eternity, he finally looks back up at you but he doesn’t even seem to be looking at you, rather it feels like he’s looking through you like you’re not even there.
“I got food,” he says blankly.
Your eyes widen a bit, wondering if this is meant to be his apology for being an asshole the past few weeks. Dazai never apologizes—he disappears until he can act like nothing happened or he does something to make up for what he did, but he doesn’t ever acknowledge what he did. It’s frustrating, but you’ve gotten used to his quirks over the years. You’d been wondering why he seemed so melancholic before he left.
You nod at the spot next to you on the couch, accepting the apology and sitting back down. “I’ll put on a movie.”
Dazai looks at the spot like it’s been poisoned, expression finally twisting from the emptiness into one of disgust.
“What?” you demand, offended.
Dazai doesn’t even respond to you; you can only stare in disbelief as he turns on his heel and walks in the direction of the kitchen. You don’t budge for a second, staring in shock to where he disappeared to, but after a few moments, you force yourself up to your feet and follow after him.
Your mind races as you make your way down the short hall into the kitchen, standing in the door frame as you watch him put the bag of takeout on the kitchen counter, pulling the different containers out of the bag and then opening the fridge. His movements are stiff and abrupt, almost robotic, and your irritation slips away when you see the expression on his face.
Closed-off. Withdrawn. Very reminiscent of the look on his face from that time he came back to your apartment after a mission that went wrong post-Dragon’s head Conflict, right before he had his first breakdown in front of you. He’d been trying to hold it all back, desperate to not lose control in front of you, but it was to no avail because it only made it worse.
“Dazai, what’s wrong?” you ask carefully as he stuffs another container into the fridge, so roughly that the plastic almost snaps. “Dazai-”
“Nothing,” Dazai responds sharply, voice cold and cutting but the way he takes in a sharp, shaky breath betrays him. “Nothing is wrong. Nothing.”
“Okay, that’s a lie,” you say flatly, sighing to yourself. “Can you just-”
“You’re the liar,” Dazai cuts you off, voice shrill and defensive in a way you’ve never heard from him before. Something crosses his face: a weird mixture of panic, anger and distress, like he knows he’s losing control of his emotions but he can’t stop himself. You don’t usually have such a hard time reading Dazai—it’s difficult, yes, but not as impossible as it currently is. It’s stressing you out because you don’t know what’s wrong and he’s clearly working himself up more over it. “You’re the liar. You’re the liar.”
Your eye twitches. Three breaths in and three breaths out. Now’s really not the time for you to lose your temper on him considering he’s on the brink of a mental breakdown for whatever reason. But you’re pissed, you don’t know why he’s calling you a liar and you don’t know what is going on, and you don’t want to deal with this especially after he just spent weeks ignoring and avoiding you.
“What did I lie about, Dazai?” you ask tightly, nails digging into your palms as you wait for a response. “Please, enlighten me.”
Dazai doesn’t respond, jaw tightening as he resumes tossing the food into the fridge.
“Dazai, stop,” you tell him, taking a step forward when he finally gets to the bottom of the takeout bag and slams the fridge shut so hard that it rattles. He grabs the empty bag and is about to storm over to the garbage can but before he can, you reach forward and grab his wrist, stopping him. “Will you fucking talk to me?”
“Let go,” Dazai hisses, trying to rip his arm from your hold but your fingers are too tight around his wrist, his bandages rough against the pads of your fingers—you don’t know why he’s still using those old scratchy ones when you stocked up with the softer ones but it only serves to irritate you more because why are you going out of your way to do nice things for him if he’s just going to toss it to the side? “Let go of me.”
“Tell me what your issue is,” you demand. “I’m done playing games with you, Dazai. Grow the fuck up and communicate.”
Dazai’s eye is wide and wild, looking far too much like a cornered animal as he bares his teeth at you and tries to yank out of your hold on him again. “My issue is that you’re a whore,” he spits out. “Let go of me. Now.”
You let go of him.
Instantly, the anger in Dazai’s face fizzles away. His eye is just as wide but his expression is lax, lips parted as if he’s only now just registering what he said. And you know he regrets it, you know that Dazai lashes out when he feels cornered; he becomes cruel and vicious, desperate in his attempts to protect himself when he feels vulnerable and since Dazai is Dazai, he knows how to hurt people. Knows exactly where the chinks in your armor are, drives the dagger in deep and twists it.
But even knowing this, it still hurts hearing that from him of all people.
“Okay.”
Your voice is quiet, you don’t even waste a second before turning on your heel and leaving the kitchen.
“Wait,” Dazai calls after you, voice wavering. “Wait, I didn’t…”
He can’t even finish the sentence because Dazai is Dazai and he doesn’t apologize and he doesn’t admit his wrongs. Doesn’t admit that he lost control and said something he didn’t mean to say. Would rather preserve his false visage of control than do anything like that.
“Where are you going?” Dazai asks and you can hear him trailing after you, words drawn long and shaky. “Hey, wait-”
You don’t know where you’re going. Leaving your apartment, you think, considering your feet are moving right to the elevator, but once you leave the building? You’re not sure. Maybe you’ll head over to Chuuya’s and crash at his apartment for the night, maybe you’ll go get shit-faced at a bar. You don’t really care, you just don’t want to be anywhere near Dazai right now. He’s put you through enough the past few weeks for you to stand here and take this shit from him.
“I don’t know, Dazai,” you say, voice cold and sharp. “Maybe I’ll go find that guy I kicked out and finish the job if I’m such a whore.”
Dazai inhales sharply from behind you. “What?” he breathes out. “No. No. I didn’t-”
“You didn’t what?” you scoff, not even looking back at him. “Didn’t mean it? You can’t even bring yourself to say it, Dazai. Clearly you did.”
That’s not true, you know it’s only Dazai’s pride that prevents him from forcing those words out, but you know it makes him flinch and you know it makes him hesitate. You also know how to target chinks in armor.
“No,” Dazai tries again, more insistent this time. You can hear him speeding up behind you when he realizes you’re going for the elevator. “No, you don’t need to do that. I don’t-I don’t get you. I don’t get this. I don’t get any of this.”
He sounds confused, borderline distressed—you don’t even know what he’s talking about, what he’s so confused and distressed about. How could you? He never explains anything to you, never communicates.
“You don’t get what?” you demand, reaching out for the button of the elevator but Dazai lunges forward to grab your wrist before you can. You finally turn to look at him, catching the way his jaw is tight and the strange emotion swimming in his eye. “You don’t get what, Dazai? Spit it out.”
“Why are you still sleeping with other people?” he asks, voice hitching. “You have me. You don’t need anyone else.”
You can’t help yourself—you laugh in Dazai’s face.
“No way,” you say immediately.
You don’t mean it in the way it comes out. You know it comes out as if you’re saying you’d never sleep with him, but you’re more so saying no way because you can’t believe he has the audacity to say this to you after he just spent weeks avoiding and ignoring you.
Is this what his issue is? He doesn’t know how to cope with emotions so he evades and lashes out and just expects you to stick around waiting until he grows up? Fuck him. You deserve better than that, you waited long enough, you thought you were done with these games with him.
You don’t miss the way Dazai’s expression crumbles at your words, the way he stares at you, lips parted in disbelief. You don’t correct yourself, a part of you is happy that you can get your own knife in even if you do know you’ll regret it later.
“What do you mean no?” Dazai’s voice wobbles a bit before he takes half a step back. His fingers are weak around your wrist but he doesn’t let go, feels a lot like a child clinging to their parent’s shirt. “What-I-I’m here. You want it, you were just going to-”
Not that that’s even the issue anymore, but you’re definitely not in the mood now. Honestly, you just want to go to bed. Your head hurts and Dazai is stressing you out and pissing you off all at the same time, plus you have no interest in fucking him when he seems like he’s on the verge of a mental break anyway.
“No, I don’t. I changed my mind,” you say, frustrated. “I’m tired. I want to go to bed.”
“No,” Dazai replies, voice pitched and tinged with something too close to desperation. “No. You want me and I’m here, so you should-”
God, what the fuck is your life? You’re so frustrated that you want to pull your hair out and scream at him.
“Enough, Dazai.” You raise your voice at him. “Enough. I don’t want you. I want to go to bed.”
“No,” Dazai insists and your eyes widen when you feel his grip tighten on your wrist.
“Daz-” You start to say but you can’t even finish his name, cut off by his other hand finding its way to your hip, pressing you back against the closed doors of the elevator as he dips his head down to capture your lips with his own, swallowing your protest before you can even get it out.
You think absently that you were right earlier when you were letting your thoughts wander to what kissing Dazai would be like. He’s no longer unsure and hesitant with his touches, his lips slide against yours with the expertise of someone who’s spent a lifetime kissing. The hand on your hip slides up your body so that he can hold your jaw, tilting your head back to deepen the kiss. And you shouldn’t be indulging this, you know that—Dazai pissed you off, he has some nerve calling you a whore and then whoring himself out to you—but his lips are intoxicating, you can hardly think straight with them pressed against yours.
He has your right hand pinned to the metal behind you, fingers curled tight around your wrist as he holds you in place. The way he kisses you is familiar, almost, and your brows furrow as you try to figure out why until feel his fingers brush through your hair, slow and lingering, dizzying, right before his tongue darts out to swipe across your bottom lip—a pattern of actions that you usually take to make your partners more malleable.
Did he teach himself this just by observing the way you act with people at events?
You don’t fall for your own tricks though, so instead, your free hand drops to his waist, fingers slipping through his belt loops as you press into him, pushing off the elevator to walk him backwards down the hall to his bedroom. He lets out a surprised noise in the back of his throat, letting you walk him back; his fingers fall from where they’d been around your wrist and you take the opportunity to hook yours around his other belt loop, keeping his body flush to yours until you have his back pressed against his bedroom door.
You notice, a bit absently, that Dazai is a lot more pliant now with you in control. His hands are loose at his sides as if he doesn’t know what to do with them—much like when you shared his first kiss with him—and he still kisses you back, lips moving slowly against yours, but it’s not with the intensity he had when you were pinned to the elevator door.
Strange.
You think kissing Dazai is a lot like a drug, one that you got your first hit of two years ago when you offered to be his first kiss but then never had another chance to get another taste of. You were bitter when he first started following in yours and Chuuya’s footsteps in taking people to bed to unwittingly ease information out of them—you’d find yourself watching him like a hawk as he drew people into secluded corners, as he pressed his lips against theirs and let their hands explore his body. You’d hardly be able to draw your eyes away once, not until he eventually led them out of the area to a bedroom.
You hated it. Truly. You like to tell yourself that you’re not jealous but you know it’s a blatant lie. As much as people would sell their souls to spend a night with you, they’d be just as desperate for one with Dazai because Dazai is Dazai. He’s untouchable. The Demon Prodigy. The Port Mafia’s Black Wraith. The youngest executive in history. He can be smooth and charming, yes, and he’s undoubtedly handsome. But more than that, he’s dark and unfathomable in a way that piques peoples’ interest in a sick and perverted fashion—they want to know what he’s like behind closed doors, they’re terrified of him but they want him, be it because of morbid curiosity or sheer lust.
And you hated that other people got to be with him in ways you couldn’t. Your only consolation seems to be that he had his eyes on you as much as you had yours on him, seeing how he’s pretty much perfectly mimicking the way you kiss and touch people, but you don’t know if that’s just because he was trying to learn through observing you—as he does with everyone—or if he hated watching you with other people just as much-
Oh.
Oh, you’re so stupid.
“You were jealous,” you realize, understanding what had triggered Dazai’s meltdown with the takeout food and insults toward you. Dazai stiffens against the door and you take the opportunity to trail your lips from his down to his jaw. “You were jealous over the guy I had over.”
“No-”
“You were.” You don’t even let him finish the protest, nipping at the spot beneath his ear gently and watching how he shudders. “How cute.”
“It’s not cute.” Dazai bristles. “You-you weren’t supposed-you’re not supposed to keep seeing people. I thought you were done with that. I thought we were-”
“We were what?” you ask coolly. “You avoided me for weeks after we talked, Dazai. Whatever we may or may not have been after we talked at the bar, it’s nothing when you start actively ignoring me for weeks after that.”
“But-”
You’re getting irritated again. “Dazai, you ignored me for weeks. I was pissed off and frustrated. And when I’m pissed off and frustrated, if I don’t have some way to relieve my stress, I do something stupid. Something stupid like putting a bullet in you the next time you stepped into my apartment after actively going out of your way to avoid me.”
“I was going out to get food,” Dazai says sullenly as if you were supposed to know that. “So we could watch a movie.”
“Last I recall, telepathy isn’t exactly part of my ability, Dazai,” you say dryly, calming yourself down by leaning in to brush your lips against his again.
A drug, you think again as the anger melts away when you feel his breath hitch against your lips. You reach behind him to open his bedroom door, guiding him in as you kiss him slowly. He’s fumbling again, unsure what to do with his fingers, clumsily moving his lips against yours until the back of his knees hits the bed, and he goes flopping down back on it.
You snort at the surprised look on his face, joining him on the bed as you straddle his hips. You hover over him for a second before leaning down to give him another chaste kiss, enjoying the way he tries to chase your lips when you pull away.
“Tell me why you were avoiding me,” you say quietly as you lift a hand to cup his cheek.
A foul move, you know. Dazai is always weak to gentle touches as much as he tries to pretend otherwise. You’ve noticed it when you watch movies with him and when he curls into bed with you on nights he can’t sleep. Just as you expect, he leans into your touch, lashes fluttering.
“Dazai,” you urge, “tell me why. What did I do?”
You didn’t do anything, you think bitterly, but you figure taking responsibility will be the easiest way to get him talking. You’ll fight about it later.
Dazai, to your surprise, turns his face away from you and your touch, a faraway look in his eye as he stares at the wall.
“You didn’t do anything,” he says. “I just didn’t-”
He cuts himself as if he can’t even bring himself to say it, and you know you have to do something because he seems to be withdrawing even more into his own head, eyes growing more distant with each passing second. You turn his head so that he’s facing you again and you lean down to press your lips briefly against his.
“You didn’t what?” you ask him.
Dazai still looks like he doesn’t want to answer, conflict spreading across his face as he stares up at you before he sighs and averts his gaze. “I don’t understand any of this. I didn’t want to disappoint,” he says so quietly that you barely hear him.
Your brows furrow.
“Disappoint?” you question, a bit baffled. Dazai has a complex about failure. You know that too, have known it since you were sixteen. He can’t handle it, nothing makes him spiral quite like the idea of failure—you and he are quite similar in that regard—but you don’t understand what he means in this context. “Disappoint with what?”
Dazai doesn’t answer, doesn’t meet your eyes either, and your mind races to figure out what he might be referring to. You recall how he became hesitant and unsure when you finally took control, fingers twitching at his sides, body pliant as you moved him around, almost like a doll for you to maneuver as you pleased.
“Disappoint with this?” you finally realize, watching as he grimaces, confirming your suspicions. Your chest drops. “You avoided me because… you didn’t want to have sex?”
That makes you feel a bit sick to your stomach because what does he think of you if he went to this length to avoid you just because… Dazai’s entire body jolts at your words as if realizing how they came across.
“No,” he pushes out instantly. His hands dart out to cling to your shirt as if he’s worried you’re going to leave. “No, no. I want to. I do. Not just this… just in general. Everything. Me… This is just one part of it… the easiest to make mistakes with. I don’t like making mistakes.”
It’s only mildly reassuring.
“Dazai…” You start to say, pulling away, but his hands dart up to grab your waist so he can hold you in place on top of him. You think maybe the two of you need to talk. Again. “I just, I don’t understand.”
“I want this,” he repeats again, hands sliding down from your waist to curl his fingers around the hem of your shirt. He sees that you’re not convinced by his words so he pushes out a “Please” that nearly stops you in your tracks because you don’t think Dazai Osamu has ever begged for anything in his life.
You lean down to press your lips against his again. You set the pace this time, lifting your hand to cup his cheek—you pull the same move that he tried with you, nails gently scraping his scalp as you brush your fingers through his hair. Dazai melts into it in a way that you didn’t, lashes fluttering and lips parting instinctively, letting you deepen the kiss. Dazai’s breath catches as you push your tongue into his mouth, shivering when you trace the back of his teeth.
Too pliant. All of the confidence he had earlier when he had you pinned to the elevator is gone. His breath wavers against your lips, and his fingers tremble as he grips at the hem of your button-up. Not a firm grip like you’d have anticipated, with his fingers digging into the plush skin of your hips as he grinds you down on his cock; instead, his fingers are clinging to the fabric as if he’s too overwhelmed to even think of grabbing your body.
“Tell me what you like,” you say quietly, fingers still absently carding through his dark locks as you kiss down his neck. Your other hand slips beneath his dress shirt, smoothing out over the bandages wrapped around his torso. “I want to know, wanna make you feel good.”
Dazai’s lips part to respond to you, but the only thing that escapes them is a pitched gasp—high and cracking in desperation, grip on your shirt so tight that you think he might rip it. He’s already hard, can feel his cock straining against his black pants, pressed against your thigh.
“I don’t-” Dazai’s voice is ragged; he sounds overwhelmed, almost confused. “I don’t know.”
“Hm?” you prod, nipping his neck and relishing in the way his whole body shudders at the feeling. “C’mon, Dazai, you’ve done this before. Tell me what you like.”
His gasp is choked when your hand tightens on his slim waist, lashes fluttering as his eyes roll back. More pliant and more sensitive, you note curiously, kissing back up his neck to tug at his earlobe with your teeth, a shiver running down your spine at the broken moan Dazai lets out into your ear. He jolts, eyes widening and face flushing—he looks as if he’s startled himself by the noise that escaped his lips, and you start to become a bit suspicious.
“I don’t know,” he tells you, sounding confused and frustrated. “I don’t know. It’s never felt like this before. How are you doing that?”
You pause.
You make a soft noise in the back of your throat, pulling your face back from his ear to look at him carefully because why is he acting like he’s never done this before? You know he’s slept around a lot. He picked it up over half a year ago when he got tired of hearing you and Chuuya brag about how easy it is to get things out of people like this. Made a point of making sure you knew about it when you had your boyfriend.
It’s never felt like this before.
Your chest swirls, and you feel a bit disconcerted as his words finally process. It’s never felt like what? Dazai doesn’t know why you’ve stopped, you can feel him tugging at your shirt, hazy eyes trying to focus on you. You wonder if the gears in his head are turning, realizing something might be wrong but unable to pinpoint what.
You kiss him to distract him, deeper this time. You press his head back against the soft pillow, one hand sliding to cradle the back of it as you try to break all of the quick-moving cogs in his brain so you can think in peace, cursing the fact that his mind has always been quicker and sharper than yours.
Dazai is Dazai. He’s smooth, charming—when he wants to, he could seduce anyone into his bed. You’ve watched him do it at events, sidling up close and leaning in to speak to people, dark eye lidded and voice low, a slow smirk curling at his lip as he brushes his finger lightly against the target’s lower back before guiding them out of the room. Christ, he’s nearly flustered you on more than one account. You want to say that he’s not the same kid who was nervous to kiss you two years ago, but he clearly is with how he’s reacting to your kisses and touches right now. But he shouldn’t be—maybe it’s because it’s you he’s with, maybe he’s just nervous because it’s you and not some random person he’s seducing for information.
But that doesn't explain the comment. Doesn’t explain it’s never felt like this before.
“Never felt like what?” you ask as you kiss the corner of his lips and down his jaw again, all the way to the line of bandages peeking out from his dress shirt. You undo the first few buttons, watching the way his chest rapidly rises and falls under your touch as you smooth your hands over his chest. “Hm?”
“I-I don’t know,” Dazai says, voice cracking and another breathy sound spilling from his lips as you kiss the underside of his jaw. “It’s just-it’s usually just-it’s not this.”
That doesn’t help you at all, you think. You’re about to press, but your lips on his skin have evidently made Dazai’s lips looser than they typically are because you don’t even have to voice a clarifying question to get him talking again.
“The way you’re touching me. Kissing me. It’s not like this, doesn’t feel so good,” he continues and you can hear the whine building in the back of his throat as he speaks. “It’s just sex.”
You slide his button-up off of his shoulders, revealing his bandaged body to you. You don’t make any move to remove them, but now you stare down at him, a bit perplexed. “This is sex,” you say, voice a bit stunted because you didn’t expect him to say that.
“No,” Dazai says, seemingly equally perplexed by your words, drawn out of the haze of pleasure into a more confused state. “Sex is sex. It’s penetrative.”
“... Sex isn’t just penetrative, Dazai,” you say, baffled. “This is sex. It’s foreplay.”
Dazai stares at you like he doesn’t even know what that word means.
Oh, you realize, heart sinking as you realize why Dazai is so thrown off by all of this. How has he had sex without foreplay? Sex without foreplay is… it’s boring, not enjoyable at all. More animalistic than anything, borderline painful half of the time. Is that what he’s been doing with all of the people he seduces for information? The thought is a bit jarring, but the more you think about it, the more you think it might make sense.
Dazai is prodigious when he’s given something that he can study and mimic; can execute flawless imitations of the behaviors he’s trying to learn. He learned the art of leadership from observing Mori. The art of war from observing the Colonel’s operations before his death. Adaptability from observing Kouyou during missions. Business from observing Ace’s meetings and transactions. Seduction from observing you interacting with people during events. Dazai is as terrifying as he is because he’s a perfect amalgamation of the entire upper echelon’s best skill sets. He’s adopted Mori’s mannerisms, the Colonel's strategic capability, Kouyou’s ability to adapt to any situation, Ace’s shrewdness with yen, and your charisma.
If there’s something he can observe, he can mirror it to near perfection.
So, is it really that surprising to you that the front he puts up during events is just an imitation of how you act with people? That it doesn’t translate behind closed doors? That he had nothing to study and nothing to mimic once seduction progressed to the bedroom, so he let whoever he was with take the lead to try to learn from them in the moment?
That maybe someone would use his ignorance on the subject against him?
Dazai is Dazai, you think, for the fifth time tonight. He doesn’t watch porn, he doesn’t ask people for help, and this isn’t something Mori would have ever taught him—you know that better than anyone. Mori sheltered Dazai from everything, even tried to keep you away from him; he didn’t want anything or anyone to taint the control he had over his precious Demon Prodigy. While you and Chuuya have had the chance to live, experiencing life and the outside world, Dazai’s been stuck under the watchful eye of the boss, hardly ever out of arm’s reach, caged like a circus animal to be put on display whenever Mori sees fit.
Of course, Dazai would only see it as another way to get the job done, disregarding his own comfort and pleasure—because when does Dazai Osamu ever care for his own comfort and pleasure? He lived in a fucking shipping container until you dragged him out of it. It’s not a thought that casually crosses his mind, and he wouldn’t think twice once he thinks he has an idea of what’s going on. He doesn’t see things the way you do, was never given the opportunity to understand, taught by Mori to see things as tools and means to an end, even himself.
Dazai can see your mind racing. You know he’s going to put together that something is wrong soon if you don’t move on from this. But it’s hard—it’s a bit fucking jarring to realize that Dazai’s so overwhelmed by your touch because every other time he’s had sex, he’s probably been uncomfortable or even in pain.
You lean down to kiss him again, halting his thoughts. You place two chaste kisses on his lips, sucking his bottom lip gently before kissing his cheek down to his jaw.
“What all have you done with people?” you ask him, sitting back on his thighs, lacing your fingers with his as you look down at him.
Instantly, his face is on fire. “What does it matter?” he demands, but you can feel his fingers tightening around yours.
You roll your eyes at his obstinateness. “Humor me,” you say dryly. “Are you usually the one leading, or is your partner? Are you the one penetrating or-”
Dazai’s grip on your hands becomes almost painful, so you quiet down, giving him an amused look. Maybe it's an awkward subject, but you want to have a vague idea of what he’s been doing before you do anything.
“... partner is,” he finally tells you, hardly looking you in the eye. It’s kind of cute. “... and only when it’s a woman, but she still takes the lead.”
“Do you want to take the lead tonight?” you ask him, running your thumb over his knuckles to try to get him to loosen his grip.
He does, but only barely.
“Not tonight,” he says after a few moments.
“Not tonight,” you agree. “Did you prefer topping or bottoming?”
Dazai thinks for a moment and then says, “Topping. Bottoming was…”
You force yourself not to wince, suspicions confirmed by the way he trails off.
You hum, sliding your hands up and down his bandaged sides soothingly, enjoying the way he slowly relaxes beneath your touch. “That can feel good, too,” you tell him. “I can show you that one day if you’d like.”
Dazai’s brows furrow, pointedly looking down at your clothed lower half as if trying to see through them. Your lips quirk up as he says, “But you don’t have a-”
“There are ways to work around that,” you snort, hands finally resting at his hips, drawing circles over his protruding hip bones.
“… Not tonight,” he finally repeats.
“Not tonight,” you agree again.
You lift your hands back to his cheeks, holding his face between them as you kiss him again. You kiss him deeper this time, rolling your hips against his to make his breath hitch. You drag the tip of your tongue against the roof of his mouth—he tastes like cigarettes and faintly of whiskey. Tastes familiar. Like home.
You think you could kiss Dazai forever and never find yourself sick of it. Kissing him is like a drug, you think again. Kissing him gives you butterflies in a way that you’ve only ever experienced with him when you were sixteen, and giving him his first kiss.
Kissing him is like coming home after being away for years.
He kisses you back clumsily, all of the finesse he had earlier in the night long gone. His teeth nearly knock against yours, it’s a bit too wet and a bit too messy, but you think it’s the best kiss you’ve ever had. You smile against his lips before pulling away to kiss the corner of his lips, nipping his skin when he lets out a shaky breath against your ear.
Your hands slide down his body to the waistband of his pants, fingers slipping beneath before you look up at him questioningly. “Can I?” you ask him, tilting your head to the side.
“How else are we going to do this?” Dazai counters petulantly.
Brat, you think to yourself, a bit fondly. Thoughts race through your mind but you push them away—maybe another night. You don’t respond to him, raising your eyebrows and waiting for a verbal response.
His cheeks dust pink as he says, “Yes.”
You work quickly to unbutton his pants, patting his thigh so he lifts his hips. You trail kisses down his bandaged chest as you slide off his pants. He’s very responsive to your touch, each kiss makes his breath stutter, you can feel it in the way his chest rises and falls and it only makes you want to watch him fall apart more.
“Are the bandages okay?” Dazai asks after a few moments when you kiss down to his navel. You look up at him, brows furrowed, catching the hesitant expression on his face, dark eye trained on you. “Do you want them off?”
“Do you want them off?” you throw back at him, squinting up at him.
Dazai stares at you for a moment before he shakes his head, a strange expression on his face—you wonder if he was worried you’d ask him to take them off, wonder if his other partners made comments about it, pushed him to remove them.
You wonder if it’s part of the reason why he avoided you for so long: he wasn’t ready for you to see him without them but thought you would ask him to take them off.
You leave it at that though, returning to kissing down to his hip bone, nipping the skin there and watching how his body jerks a bit in surprise. You let out a puff of laughter against his skin before you ease his briefs off, freeing his cock from where it was straining against the cloth—the soft ones you’d bought him when you’d found his rough, tattered ones in your washing machine a few months after he first moved into your apartment.
You don’t usually find cocks pretty—they all mostly look the same—but Dazai’s is. Long, not too thick, his tip is flushed a pretty pink color and a vein runs along the underside. He’s leaky too, precum drips down from his tip, right along that vein and you want to taste him, so you do.
You lean in to press your lips against his length, sucking gently on the vein before kissing up to his tip. A bit too salty for your taste, probably because of his shitty diet, but you don’t mind because the pitched moan that tumbles from his lips makes up for the taste entirely. You peek up, breath catching at the sight of his head tossed back against the pillow, swollen lips parted in a pretty moan and long lashes fluttering. He looks stunning, you wish you could take a picture—maybe another night.
You think all of his previous partners have severely missed out.
“Ah,” he gasps. “Shit, shit-”
Even with just your lips wrapped around his tip, you can feel Dazai’s cock twitching in your mouth—you wonder if he’s already on the edge. You can see the way his abdomen is spasming beneath the bandages, how his fingers are curling around the soft sheets beneath him. You don’t want him to finish yet, you want him inside you when he cums, so you only spare a few chaste kisses trailing up and down his length before sitting up straight again.
Immediately, he tosses you an accusing look. Bottom lip pushed out, cheeks flushed the same pretty pink as his tip. “Why-”
You silence him by pressing your lips against his. This kiss is lewder than your last, you push the bit of precum you’d gathered on your tongue into his mouth as you unbutton your own slacks. He makes a noise into your mouth but you don’t pull away until you feel him swallow. You smile against his lips before you pull back to slip off your own pants, watching his face twist.
“Yuck,” he says, wrinkling his nose and sticking out his tongue. “Tastes bad.”
“Have been telling you to start eating more fruits and vegetables,” you tell him, flicking his thigh as you shimmy out of your slacks and toss them to the side. “You don’t listen.”
The smile he tosses up at you is familiar, a welcome change from the distress and confusion that’s been plaguing him most of the night. “You’ve been thinking about what my cum tastes like for that long? Pervert.”
“More like I’ve been thinking about how high your cholesterol must be with how much canned crab and buttered bread you eat,” you say dryly, returning to where you’d been straddling his waist.
You lift your hands up, beckoning him to take them. He does, reaching up to lace his fingers with yours. A smile curves at your lips as you lean over him, pinning his hands to the mattress on either side of his head as you kiss him again.
Your chest feels light in a way that it hardly ever does when you’re fucking someone, fluttering in the same way it was when you first kissed him two years ago. Usually when you’re sleeping with someone, it’s all about keeping up appearances. Flirty, sensual, seductive, you’re always more focused on the task at hand than you are enjoying yourself, this is… different. You mean, it always feels good—you know how to make sure it feels good for you while getting the job done—but this…
Feels like home, you think again. Being with Dazai feels like home and it scares you a bit because he’s so flighty and unpredictable but you push away the fear to kiss him harder. You have him now, that’s what matters.
“I like canned crab and buttered bread.” Dazai pouts as he mumbles against your lips.
“Shut up,” you tell him.
You feel him smile and you know you’re not going to like what he’s about to say so you cut him off by reaching down to position his cock at your entrance. Instantly, he chokes over a moan and your lashes flutter, feeling him slide between your folds.
Shit, you hadn’t even realized how wet you were, too caught up in trying to make sure Dazai was feeling good, but now with the feeling of the tip of his cock pressed against your clit and his length firm against your core, your abdomen feels all hot and tight, head fuzzy.
You keep your forehead pressed to his, noses nudging, sharing the same sliver of air as you roll your hips, letting out a soft moan against his lips when his tip presses against your hole. Each breath he lets out hitches into a soft whine at the end, a glassy look to his eye. You don’t sink down on him yet, feeling how his grip on your hands tightens, how his breath becomes shuddered and his gaze becomes lidded.
You wonder maybe if he can cum just from the feeling of his tip pushing inside you—maybe another night.
“Please,” he breathes out for the second time tonight and who are you to deny him?
You don’t kiss him as you sink down on his cock, eyes fluttering shut when you feel how his cock stretches your walls—you want to hear him, hear the way he gasps, the way his breath catches, you want to hear his moans and whimpers. He tries to chase your lips but you keep them just out of reach until he gives up, fingers tightening around yours and hips jerking up.
“‘s so tight,” Dazai gasps as you rock your hips slowly against his. “Feels s’good.”
“Yeah?” you press, breathless.
You distract yourself from the rapidly spreading heat by kissing his neck, letting go of one of his hands to bring it to his cheek, watching as he instinctively leans into your touch, hardly able to hold his eye open. He presses a sloppy kiss to your palm, hand coming up to hold yours to his face.
“Yeah,” he says shakily, lashes drooping and lips parting in another silent moan. “Feels…”
“Feels what?” you ask him, kissing the other side of his neck before trailing wet kisses up to his opposite cheek, feeling him shudder as you tug his earlobe.
“Right,” Dazai tells you, dark eye glazed over as he looks at you, lips wet and swollen and so entirely kissable that you can’t help yourself from leaning down to steal another from him. “Feels right.”
You wonder if Dazai feels just as at home with you as you do with him and that thought is enough to make you rock your hips.
The noise that Dazai lets out is obscene and pornographic, pitched and breathy. You can hardly appreciate the lewd expression on his face—his hair matted to his forehead, eyes half-rolled back and lips parted in a pretty ‘o’—because the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls nearly has you tumbling over the edge.
Shit, you think to yourself, desperately trying to rein in the rapidly building pleasure. Shit, what the fuck?
You never cum this quickly—usually you have to slip your hand between the sweat slicked bodies of you and your partner to rub circles around your clit so you can bring yourself over the edge at the same time as him. You don’t think you’ve ever come from penetration alone—but the stretch of Dazai’s cock, the feeling of his tip bullying deep into your cunt, the sound of skin on skin and his pretty moans, it all goes right to your head and to your pussy, the telltale signs of your thighs tensing and your abdomen tightening warning you that you’re close already.
“Fuck,” you breathe out, voice shaky. “You’re so…”
You don’t even know what you're trying to say, mind becoming increasingly more empty of thought as you rock your hips again, setting a steady pace. Dazai chokes over air beneath you, the hand still intertwined with yours squeezing hard while the other one drops from the hand you have on his face to claw the bed sheets.
You feel his cock twitch inside you, the way his moans are becoming louder and lewder, the way his head falls to the side, face half pressed into the pillow, eyes knocked back, body arched. Dazai’s already so gone that you think any second he’ll cum deep inside of you and that thought alone makes your body shudder.
You grab the hand clawing at the bed sheets, guiding it between your bodies as you bounce on his cock. You can feel his hazy gaze trying to figure out what you’re doing but you’re more focused on guiding his finger to rub circles around your clit.
As soon as the pressure is placed on the sensitive nub, your hips are stuttering and a gasp is tearing from your lips. Dazai’s choking when he feels your walls spasm around him, hips thrusting up erratically to meet each of your rocks, but he’s just barely coherent enough to keep his finger rubbing circles on your clit.
Your breath becomes heavy and shaky, the pace of your hips quickening, fire spreads through you so rapidly that it’s impossible to control.
“I’m gonna-” you gasp when you feel yourself tipping over the edge, eyes trying to focus on Dazai’s face and the sight you’re met with is enough to push you over the edge.
Dazai’s jaw is slack, drool pooling at the corner of his lips, the white of his eye just barely visible, cheeks flushed a deep red. He's babbling out incoherent words: you can just barely make out your name, s’good, too tight, too much, and I’m gonna-
And then you’re choking over your own moan when you feel Dazai finish inside of you, cum warm and heavy as he fucks it deep in your cunt. His lithe body trembles beneath you, tense and arched, holding your hand so tight that you think he might break it, and your vision goes white as you cum on his cock, mind blank when the taut cord snaps within you, nails digging into Dazai’s skin.
Dazai’s cock is still twitching inside of you when you slump onto his chest, tremors still spreading through his body. You tilt your head up to ghost your lips against his jaw before sliding off of him, laying on the bed next to him. You feel empty without him inside you but you distract yourself by lifting your hand to his cheek again, tilting it to the side and forcing him to look at you.
More emotion swims in Dazai’s eye than you’ve seen him express in the entire two years you’ve known him, he looks at you so reverently that you can almost imagine three words spilling from his lips, breathy and adoring. You know he won’t say them, but it’s a nice thought, you think. You lean in to ghost your lips against his briefly, the tips of your fingers carding through his dark curls. You want to say something but you don’t know what.
Well. You do know what but you can’t say it.
“You wanted me soooooo bad,” Dazai finally says, a bit more clarity returning to his eye as his lips curl up. “I knew it, you wanted me so bad.”
“You’re so annoying,” you tell him but your voice is fond and you can’t help yourself from shifting forward to press your lips against his. You feel him smile against your lips and that warm, fluttery feeling returns.
Home.
“You love it,” Dazai sings, nipping your cheek.
A bit longingly, you think, I do.
Instead, you roll on top of him to straddle his hips, pressing your lips against his again.
“You wish.”
#dazai x reader#dazai x you#dazai smut#dazai osamu x you#dazai osamu smut#dazai osamu x reader#bsd x reader#bsd smut#bsd x you#bungo stray dogs x reader#bungo stray dogs smut#bungo stray dogs x you
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Title~Team.
Yandere! tengen uzui & wives x hashira reader (she/her pronouns) poly! Relationship!
Summary~you have been a hashira for a while now , and your pretty good at your job , what happens when your “friends” eyes fall on you , in a twisted way.
TW⚠️!!!!- cussing,slightly suggestive content, yandere story! , mentions of death.-⚠️⚠️
“I got my team.”
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“Yes I would love too.” I reply too tengen’s invitation too have dinner at his residence , me and tengen met when I first joined the hashira , he has fought with me too kill demons , he says he loves how flashy I am when I cut their head off , “great! I’m sure my wives will be very happy too have you !” He says smiling at me , ‘ah yes , his wives, their great people, I love their company , honestly I feel comfortable around all of them . ‘ I think too myself before pulling myself out my thoughts, then replying, “great! I can’t wait, I guess I’ll see you later “ I say then leaving waving him good bye , “oh y/n , I wish you didn’t have too leave, no matter you’ll never leave us.” Tengen says too himself.
“Y/n!!!~” suma yells at me as she runs up too me pulling me into a big hug , “h-hello , suma!” I say as all the air in my lungs gets squeezed out of me , eventually makio walks out and yells at suma , “suma ! Get off her!! , your squeezing her too death !” Makio says as she try’s to pull her off me , “but it’s been so long since we saw her !!!” Suma says almost on the brink of tears , I smile at her , “it’s only been a week suma “ I say , eventually makio pulls me into a tight hug , “yeah that’s along time !” She says as she holds me , eventually Hinatsuru joins us pulling makio off me , “hello y/n , I’m very happy you joined us tonight!” She says pulling me into a embracive hug , I enjoy her hugs they always feel so safe , “I’m glad to be here !” I chirp too her , hugging back . Eventually we all go in for dinner . Before I sit at the table , I put my sword near the door .
“Y/n! How was your day? , I wanna know everything!” Suma chirps at me , waiting excitedly for my response, before I could respond , “did ya kill any demons?!!?! , did you eat today ?!?! , did you save anyone?!?! -“ she gets cut off by makio , “she was gonna answer but you cut her off!” She says slightly yelling at suma then stuffing her face with the delicious food , “um , no , yes , and no “ I say responding too her questions, then taking a sip of my tea , this tea smells funny , but I can’t really tell why, probably just green tea or something. Eventually tengen cuts in , “so y/n , since your so flashy , do you have anyone at home waiting on ya?” He says taking a sip of his tea , my face turns instantly red , “u-um , no . Im not really looking for someone .” I say nervously chuckling at the end of my sentence, before anyone could Interject, my body feels like it’s having a fever, “I-is it hot in here ??” I say getting hot real fast , “I t-think I’m going too step out , r-real quick “ I say trying too stand up but eventually falling on the ground, then the group surrounds me looking down on me , “oh!, y/n I don’t think you can leave.” Makio says squatting down brushing a piece of hair behind my ear , eventually suma squats down beside her , grabbing my hand and holding into Her’s “I don’t think you’ll be leaving anytime soon y/n!” She says kissing my hand , “w-what , what are you guys talking About?!” I say trying too stand up . But eventually falling back down , tengen bends down and looks me into my eyes , “we love you y/n! , your pretty, smart , very sexy too , theirs no way we wouldn’t love you , every since we met you . We knew we needed you “ he says. Pulling me into I kiss , I try too pull back but my vision starts too fade in and out , eventually he pulls back , and Hinatsuru speaks up , “we laced your tea dear , we knew if we brought up the idea of us wanting too have you in the relationship , you would reject us , so we laced you . You’ll be ours forever dear “ she says then kissing my cheek , “hey! I want too kiss y/n! “ suma says , then makio interjects “no way ! I’m kissing her first !” She says yelling at her , then Hinatsuru joins trying too calm them down , I make eye contact with my sword, If I do full concentration breathing, maybe I can reach my sword . I eventually try , but my luck ran out . Tengen noticed. And kicked me in my chest . Knocking a hard blow too me . Obviously it wasn’t enough too kill me but more too knock me out . The ladies notice this “tengen! You could’ve of hurt her!” Suma says , “no. I delivered a light blow . It was enough too knock her our out not kill her “ he replies. My vision getting more blurry and black I hear the last words before I passed out ,
“Don’t worry, we’ll take great care of you love!” Suma says
Then makio eventually says something “your our honey , ours too love and ours too fuck.” She says smirking
Eventually Hinatsuru chimes in , “makio! , don’t listen too her dear , we’ll forever care for you and love you dear “
And those last words. “I know you’ll be a good girl for us y/n. You’ll love your new flashy life style. “ tengen says smiling at me .
and the world goes dark.
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A/N-(y’all I’ve been obsessed with tengen and his wives bro . I need them fr 😩��, anyways let me know what y’all think of this . And if y’all want a part two!)
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere shitpost#yandere demon slayer#yandere tengen uzi#yandere tengen and wives#yandere blog#Spotify
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"Oi kale been waiting for you at the usual spot for a while! Everything okay?.."
"i..I'm okay! J...Just d..don't come in please.. I..im not feeling okay! I..i can't train with you today.. S..sorry!.."
"kale! You've been saying the same excuse for 3 months! I haven't seen you leave the room once! Listen i care for ya but I'm getting worried I'm going in! If you're in your underwear or somethin just cover yourself as best you can!"
THUMP... THUMP!
"huh?.. What.. The.. Kale did you block the door with somethin?.. Come on! You know damn well that won't work just because i don't like wrecking our hideout that doesn't mean i won't do it! You got me worried sick over here!"
"j..just don't come in please!!.."
"kale if you got hurt or something atleast let me see it so i can help you!"
THUMP.. CRACK!!
Caulifla's fist broke through the door grabbing something squishy while looking for the handle..
"The hell?! Did you smuggle a new throne for me or something?! Wow.. This stuff is really soft like jello... a..anyhow! I'm still coming in!"
"n..no please d..dont!"
Caulifla entered the room cleaning some debri from her fist as whe looked at the reason why kale didn't wanna come out..
"P..please d..dont look at me!!"
"sniff.. P...please..sniff.. C..close t..the door please d..dont.. Don't look at me.. !"
Tears streamed from the timid saiyan's face her sweaty lardy body exposed.. All that hard work done with caulifla buried beneath heavy layer of lard..
"oh.. Oh.. Oh crud.. Kale kale calm down.. Shit maybe i shouldn't have come in.. I was just worried nobody's seen you in weeks and i didn't know if you even wanted to hang out with me anymore.. Just. Okay okay calm down please.."
Caulifla hugged her protege her arms burying into her sides and into the sweaty rolls in kale's body.. She reeked of sweat and food.. She hadn't even gone out for a shower..
"it's okay.. I..im sorry if i was too rash just tell me what happened.. Why don't you wanna go train with me? Or hang out anywhere for that matter! "
"i..it's.. I.. I don't wanna hurt you!.. L..last t..time i really really hurt you.. I was so scared i blacked out while sparing and i woke up with you on the brink of death!.. I..i don't want to harm you.. A..and i..i ruined this body so much.. T..the body you helped me tone a..and that you looked so happy to see grow.. "
"and after that you went to hide and keep eating the normal amount we usual eat right?.."
caulifla gropes kale's gut trying to derrail the conversation a bit.. She was also scared at that moment not of getting killed.. But that she had pushed kale too far.. That she might have been unable to get back undercontrol.. That she would become a mindless beast.. She liked fighting with kale.. But she didn't want her to be lost in bloodlust or self hatred forever..
".. Listen i get it i was a tiiiiny bit scared then too.. But when you started avoiding me i thought i had really messed up as well.. I won't push ya to train anymore i get that you don't like fighting me.. Plus it's not like you destroyed it.. Your body is still yours you treat it how you wanna! I don't mind you being buff or a complete butterball you dummy! I love ya all the same! "
"you're not mad?.. I..I've been just gorging myself in here and lying to you for so long.. I..i don't think I'll ever be in any condition to spar or train again.."
"of course not you dummy! I care more about you being okay than you getting stronger pluuuus!!"
"with all this extra plush you're even softer to cuddle with! So just relax and keep gorging yourself if you wanna! I just want you to feel okay! Buut if you ever wanna lose the tummy you tell me okay?.."
"Y..yes! G..gosh you just lifted a weight off my shoulders caulifla i..i really d..didn't know how to talk to you about this and.. Eeep!"
"And speaking of lifting weights!" caulifla lifted kale's gut with one hand seeing the unbuckled belt and shorts struggling to contain the saiyan's girl fupa
"if you ever need help relieving some stress around don't be shy and just ask!~ i wouldn't mind going spelunking under there~"
A brightblush appeared on the flabby girl face..
"I..I'll k..keep that in mind hehe!~"
#muse: kale#muse caulifla#Feederism caulikale#I love the saiyan lesbians..#Lil bit of angst me thinks#Kale stuff by snaps of hope and hehehegross
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id like to preface this rant with a picture of my cat & also a disclaimer that this isn't like. a vent or a call for help ir anything i just like musing about this stuff. talking outloud to myself if you will. i'm doing perfectly well right now but im thinkingggg and id like to spill it somewhere so it doesnt overflow. i don't think i'll be replying to responses if there is any but i'd definitely love to /read/ responses if youd like to share your own thoughts. :)) <3
ok. my cat as promised
alright. ive been thinking. i have always been rather pessimistic, a product of my youth and developmental environment, so i like to take my thoughts with a grain of salt with the understanding that what i see things as can be wildly different from other people. essentially i try my best to be self aware, but i have slip ups. we all do!
and again, i know dark times in your life pass, they always will if you're strong enough to persevere! i'd know, after many terrible terrible times i came close to the brink but managed to bounce back. i have everyone i have ever met over the years to thank, i could not name them all but especially hellholians. even if the server will never have the same amount of activity, even if we are all different people than who we were during the fucking insane years that were 2020-2022, those were some of the most influential years of my entire life & i have so many great and terrible memories from that time. i don't know if i truly have any influence in other peoples lives as they do in mine, but i'm glad to have been atleast a small part of everyone there's life. hellhole got me through some of the most inane fucking bullshit i have ever experienced in my life and even if i was an annoying piece of shit back then i am glad everyone tolerated me. ok sentiment over ill be here forever if i dont end it.
essentially. to reiterate the sentence i derailed. i know everyone has dark times in their life. and i know a good support system and spite can seriously help you get through those times... but to take from a good metaphor i saw some time ago that i can't find the source for the life of me; what do you even do once you've escaped the dark? you lose so much blood on the way to freedom that once you're out of that terrible place you can't do anything but collapse in on yourself. the adrenaline has run out and now the only thing thats left is the husk of what you were before the darkness hit. in some cases people have evidence of who they were, proof that they were /someone./ but i suppose in my case & others ofc, the terrible things happened so consistently and so constantly that i (and again, others) had no chance to even create that concept, to get an idea of who "i" am. sometimes it feels like ive been hollowed out and left to dry in the sun, other times it feels like ive been shattered into a thousand different evershifting versions of myself, and other times it just feels like i'm not even in my body. i'm not acting like this is a unique experience in the slightest, i know damn well there are people who have had it MUCH worse than me. it just frustrates me sometimes to be so little of a person that never existed, especially when people often force their ideas of who that person was onto me.
to describe things a little less cryptically -- i don't know who i am. yeah, i'm not supposed to have it all figured out at 15, i'm not fucking stupid, but sometimes it just feels like i'm falling so behind in the self-discovery department. so many people i know seem (SEEM, i know it isn't always that way on the inside) to be confident in who they are and how they present themself to other people, and then i'm just there struggling to differentiate the dream i had three weeks ago with present reality & juggling three different terrible outcomes to a conversation i made up in my head & also debating whether to kill everyone i know in cold blood and dissapear off the radar. every single interaction i have with people is some fucked up infinitely and needlessly complicated labyrinth of a mindgame. i suppose im getting tired but basically i feel like why im so bad at maintaining friendships is i can never ever find a comfortable level to talk to people with until AFTER i've had time to analyze them & how they behave so i can react accordingly. it's not necessarily that i'm accommodating for them, it's that they've already accommodated for me & i'm simply reflecting their behaviour. if i ever say i'm being sincere, but talk completely and totally different to another person, i'm probably not lying. i've been asked by a handful of wonderfully insightful people (whom i love. you know who you guys are <3) who have sort of unintentionally helped me understand these pwrts of me. but for now im going to sleep intotally lost the motifve of this rant uhhw
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New guy just dropped if you even care
His name is Draugur and he's a lighthouse keeper kind of? He's super grumpy and probably constantly on the brink of killing everyone (even though theres no everyone to kill in the middle of the ocean)
Also he really likes trains and he and callahan (who you probably dont even know about but im trying ok) are divorced
Also i think i'm improving to some degree because the last few drawings i've made that aren't just characters standing in a white void have been really freaking good if i say so myself
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Funny Out of Context Quotes From My Friend Group’s Discord Server
(I say out of context but some of them have a little context lmao- also this is just for funsies bc i love my friends & our chaotic groupchat)
(idk if my friends have tumblr but if they do- you didn’t see this)
“Also, [insert professors name] is a whore for not just posting our grades online and that’s on god”
“he’s dead💀 sleep well!”
A note I had in the rough draft of a paper for my art class that I shared with my friends:
“I just finished my conclusion, but I keep thinking about how I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to describe the painting or not and it’s like almost 11PM so I don’t want to bother you but also my brain has low key melted and is officially done for the night so I just wrote this paragraph and you can either say yes to the dress or throw this page to the sharks or something.”
And the following response:
“SAY YES TO THE DRESS😭”
“Idk but like kill it girlie KSDFHSJD”
“The pug is on the BRINK of death🥰”
“friggin snappychat whatchamacallit and all y’all youngsters smh”
^ and the “LMAO GRANDPA PLEASE” in response^
“GET UR DIRTY LIPS AWAY”
“SIN COSINE TANGENT HELP”
“u signed with the turkin grease???”
“Can I take over your Brian?” (brain lmao)
“My Brian ??? Sure u can have him he’s not good at his job anyways”
“Wait will he give me your dyslexia”
I would email [insert professors name] like “hey how do I do this one thing on adobe” and he’ll be like “you literally took my graphics class” and then he’ll turn into that Dance Moms meme where Abby Miller is like “HAVE WE LEARNED NOTHING, JOJO”
-And he’s like “GO TO LAVA LAMP YOUTUBE”
“im lesking [friends name] im leaking”
I would say that to them and they’d probably go “lmao get good, we’re the American education system, you stupid little bitch”
my friend referred to my anxiety, adhd, & depression as “um… illnesses” one time and i thought it was funny
“i deal with [friends name] on a daily basis and her fards stank bro” (in response to me saying how much I appreciate them dealing w/ my daily weekly breakdowns lmao)
\/ \/ speaking of my breakdowns👀 \/ \/
ITS GONNA BE WHEN I ULTIMATELY WORK MYSELF UP ABOUT THIS PROJECT SO MUCH THAT I BURN MYSELD OUT AND END UP FEELING LIKE IM A FAILURE WHOS DISAPPOINTING EVERYONE
…
ahahaha anyways-
how is everyone else’s day going lmao
“[professors name] really said “I want you to have fun w this project” but followed it up with “but also it needs to be the best piece you’ve ever given me” as if that wouldn’t stress me out💀”
“HEY💢‼️‼️GIRL🙋♀️‼️🚺My name is TSUKASA TENMA🦄I💆♂️🗣AM👍👍STAR‼️⭐️🌟I👁AM🌎FUTURE STAR DANCE🗣🗣‼️‼️‼️💃🕺💃🕺AND‼️‼️🆒➕SING‼️🗣🗣🎙”
“I’ll beat his head into the dirt” (in response to my lil brother making fun of part of an art project I was working on)
“Do I need to put your dad on my parents hitlist😭”
#discord chat#out of context discord#discord stuff#discord shenanigans#best friends#friendship#out of context quotes#out of context shit#i love them your honor#it’s mostly me having breakdowns#i don’t have what it takes for big college brain#college#the strugge is real#american education system#art student#multimedia student#multimedia major#mental illness
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not to blame everything on astrology but being a cancer sun (on the brink of suicide all of the time) and a sagittarius rising (absolutely insane little freak energy) messes with how i perceive myself sooooooo hard bc others would NEVER perceive me how i perceive myself so they say things like "hahaaaaa you're soooooo crazyyyy you're always so energetic 🤣🤣🤣" and in my head im like "my hair looks bad today im a monster im gonna kill myself about it"
#giiiiirrrrllllll im not right in the head!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#but no one who just met me would ever know god bless ❤️#i think. I don't know???? some people can clock that im kinda broody actually others just think im a lil crazy. manic pixie dream guy
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Im going to bring myself back from the brink if it KILLS me. I have so much to be excited about and i WILL be happy about it WORLD IS BEAUTIFUL FRIENDS ARE AWESOME LIFE ROCKS BIRDS ARE DINOSAURS SONIC IS HEDGEHOG
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