#abandoned snippet

[write-it-motherfuckers]

Person A: "Are we even allowed to be in here?"

Person B: "I don't know, I stopped caring about their bullshit rules after they repaid my loyalty and devotion by framing me for their own misdeeds."

Person A: "...What if someone recognises you?"

Person B: "Recognise me? Ha! I was nothing but a faceless tool to them, I might as well have been part of the wallpaper! Honestly, I could probably walk right up to them and introduce myself with my former name and those fools still wouldn't realise it was me."

#write-it-motherfuckers #writing prompt #writing prompts #writing #prompt #story prompt #story prompts #story #prompts #my prompt #original #random #imagine #story time motherfucker #dialogue prompt #dialogue #person a and person b #incorrect quote #incorrect quotes #yet another out of context snippet from a story that has long since been abandoned. It was a pretty twisted tale though so that might be fo #the best honestly. Doubt anyone would have enjoyed the read. Oh and as always please remember that the tags are only ever a suggestion #angst #angsty #whump #revenge #redemption #rebellion #vengeance #dark #betrayal

[whumpshaped]

you can always make up a little guy btw. it's always morally correct.

#its ok to make up a guy #its ok to never do anything w them #its ok to abandon them after one snippet #its ok to only write snippets #its ok to share blurbs abt them and then never talk abt them again #its ok to make a bajillion ocs bc the process brings u more joy than the actual writing of a story #irlshaped

[blushweddinggowns]

Nancy furrowed her brow as she went to answer it, just as confused as everyone else, “Hello? What? I-Fred please be quiet for one second! How did you know I was here- I know the article is due but I’m in the- why call me if you aren’t going to let me talk!”

She pinched the bridge of her nose, “You know what? Yeah, just wait for me at school. I’ll be there in a few hours. Yes, hours! I’m hanging up now.”

She sighed, rubbing a hand over her face before addressing everyone, “It wasn’t important. I just have to stop at the school at some point today. But for now we should get going-”

But Wayne wasn’t having it. He turned back to the duo, pointing an accusing finger their way,“If either of you think you’re stepping out of this house you have another damn thing coming-”

“Okay!” Eddie interrupted, reaching out to grab Wayne’s arms, “It’s time to talk in private. The rest of you stay here.”

Eddie dragged Wayne into the back room, Steve following meekly behind. They could still hear them in such a small space, hushed voices arguing in Eddie’s room.

It made Chrissy feel weird, like she was intruding on a family moment. She knew she was, they all were. Dustin even went as far as to turn on the TV, effectively giving them the noise they needed to keep their conversation private.

“Oh my god,” Dustin breathed after a few seconds, “Oh no, oh no, oh no.”

Chrissy glanced at the screen, her stomach dropping when she saw what it was. It was her school photo. Followed with a reporter’s voiceover, “...following a cryptic voicemail, that police suspect was a forced call. Considering the untimely deaths of multiple young women in the town of Hawkins, we need a prompt and quick response in regards to finding this young lady. If anyone knows the whereabouts of Chrissy Cunningham please call your local authorities immediately. 

Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no. She should have known. Of course her mom would go straight to the police. She knew that call had been pointless. Worse than pointless. If she had never said anything then she probably wouldn’t have even realized Chrissy was gone until today. 

“We can’t stay here,” Chrissy said suddenly, already feeling frantic.

“Why not?” Dustin asked, his brow furrowed, “No one else even knows you're here!”

But Robin was already moving, cursing under her breath as she got her shoes on, “Because if anyone looking for her has a single working brain cell they’ll look for me. And how do you find me?”

“You find Steve?” Dustin asked, still watching in confusion as the rest of the girls got ready to go.

“And if you’re looking for Steve,” Robin asked, “Where would you go?”

“Here,” Dustin grumbled, finally catching on. 

“There you fucking go,” Robin sighed, before calling down the hall, “Steve, Eddie, we gotta go. Now!”

“Give us a damn minute!” Eddie yelled back, but Robin wasn’t having it. She marched back there, dragging a confused Chrissy with her. 

The three men stared at them as Robin dug around, talking as she searched, “They reported Chrissy missing so that means cops are almost certainly on their way here. We need to go now-aha!”

She held up Eddie walkman, before waltzing over to Chrissy to put the headphones over her ears. She hummed the melody as she snatched the tape out of Eddie’s player, snapping quickly into the walkman and pressing play.

“There,” She said with a gentle smile, interlacing Chrissy’s fingers with her own, “Now you’re mobile.”

She turned back to Eddie and Steve, her voice softening at the kicked-puppy look on Steve’s face, “We’ll wait outside, but we need to think of a place to hide. Fast.”

“I already know a place,” Eddie sighed, waving them off. He threw his keys in their direction, Robin just catching them in time as he kept his eyes on Wayne, “Go to the van and hide in the back. We’ll be out in a minute.”

Chrissy nodded, and then Robin was dragging her off. She chanced one look back at them, her heart breaking a little at the devastated look on Wayne’s face. She felt so bad. Yes, whatever this was had started before her, but she was the brand new reason she was involved. Why all of these people were now risking themselves for her of all people. 

“This isn’t your fault, y’know,” Robin said quietly as she unlocked the van’s door, the rest of the group talking quietly amongst themselves in front of the beemer, “I can see your brain working over there.”

Chrissy shrugged as she climbed inside, settling in the back. Robin sat beside her, close enough for their shoulders to touch. Chrissy wished Robin would think about stuff like that, how often she touched her. Or maybe Chrissy wished she could start thinking of it less.

“Maybe not everything,” She mumbled, “But it’s my fault you’re involved now. Maybe you guys could have been the bystanders for once if I never happened.”

“I doubt it,” Robin laughed softly, giving Chrissy’s hand a comforting squeeze. ``I got involved by working at an ice cream shop. Don’t underestimate the randomness of this crap. Besides…”

She trailed off, scooting closer to lay her head against Chrissy’s shoulder. Close enough for the warmth of her breath to tickle Chrissy’s neck, “Getting to know you is more than worth the trouble.”

From the latest chapter of this fic

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #buckingham fic #the universe trapped in your skin #i told you all it's not abandoned! #the chapter is officially in the ~editing~ phase #things are happening after like #8 months #my bad on that one #fic snippet #season 4 rewrite #childhood friends au

[aeoneskova]

A snippet from the next chapter of Good Old-Fashioned Lover Boy :)

Dear Penelope’s boyfriend,

What a shame it is to hear you’ve run off with another woman, Mr Weasley. Doth thine heart not think of me? Barely a week has passed without you and already I yearn! Penelope’s a lucky girl, though I’m sorry she’s stuck with a man who folds his socks and washes his hair with coconut-scented shampoo. Such sweet sorrow.

I’ve took a bow, encore, etc. Hope that helped, Perce. You could convince Ginny it was just a bro kiss. Y’know, like mates do. Not that I’d know, but I reckon Charlie would back you up on that one. Don’t worry about souvenirs, seeing you again when you come back will be more than enough. Not to be sappy.

#percys in Egypt for the summer and Oliver’s missing him #so ensues a return of the letter correspondence #wip snippet #harry potter #ao3 #good old fashioned lover boy is not abandoned #perciver fic #percy weasley #Oliver wood #penelope clearwater

[khaotunq]

trick or treat!

HI LIZ!!! AkkAyan college for u~

This fic lies abandoned in my folder because there were too many things I couldn't decide on (like where Ayan ended up going for uni. Mostly where Ayan ended up going for uni.) but here is a snippet!

*

Ayan had sent his flight tracking number before boarding and had sent him a sleepy selfie before take off, but it had been radio silence ever since, probably because he was sleeping to try and escape the worst of the jet lag.

  The flight landing had been delayed and Akk had resorted to braiding the leaves of a plant in the lounge just to keep himself busy, so he was caught off guard when the doors slid open. He shoved up from his seat and was almost immediately bowled back into it by a warm, familiar weight. Ayan was home. He was used to these airport reunions by that point, so Akk wasn't shy about wrapping his arms around him in front of Ayan's entire flight, most of whom didn't appear to have sprinted past the gate the way Ayan must have.

  He probably felt like hours of travel, but he smelled like home. Akk pressed his face into his shoulder and squeezed, hard. Something he hadn't noticed before that moment settled somewhere behind his sternum.

  "Hi," Ayan said, content to be squished. His bag had been abandoned on the floor several feet back, but he made no move to retrieve it, apparently trying to fit himself into Akk's lap. "You smell good. I missed how you smell."

  "You're ridiculous. No suitcase?"

  He shook his head. "Got everything I need right here."

  He said it with both hands curled into the material of Akk's t-shirt. He wasn't talking about his bag. Akk smiled. "Ready to go home?"

  Ayan's expression, when Akk lifted his head, said he was thinking something cheesy so Akk kissed him gently to cut him off. He tasted faintly of toothpaste and Akk had to pull away to snicker.

  "You'd have complained if I tasted like the fact I've been dead to the world for several hours."

  "I wouldn't have. Not today." And it was true: he was so elated to just have Ayan back in his arms after months that he wouldn't have cared if Ayan had been doing wasabi shots immediately prior to arrival.

  Ayan didn't respond, but he looked pleased. He let Akk tumble him off his lap and brightened even more when Akk went to retrieve his bag and offered his hand to Ayan rather than making him carry it.

  "Tell me my mum's out of town for a week."

  Akk snorted. "She's making you lunch as we speak. We'll stay with her tonight but tomorrow I'm going back to mine, and you're welcome to join me."

  He was yanked to a halt because Ayan stopped dead and pulled him around. "I love you so much." He looked deadly serious, and if this conversation was anything other than Ayan not so subtly telling him they weren't leaving the bedroom for a week, Akk would have melted.

  Instead, he smiled and leaned down for a kiss, squeezing his hand. "I love you too. Now come on. The car's going to be unbearable."

  It was Ayan's car – he'd insisted on Akk taking over its paperwork because it would just sit and rot in a driveway otherwise, and Akk had a funny feeling Ayan would find some excuse to not officially take it back. He was going back to university after the summer and it would just be a hassle to keep changing it around, Akk thought he'd say.

  They exited the airport and were hit with a wall of heat that had Ayan whining in protest the way he did every time he forgot he was from Thailand.

  "Did you not park in the shade?"

  "Your flight was late – it was in the shade when I got here three hours ago."

  "We were only delayed by maybe 45 minutes."

  Akk just smiled at him.

  Ayan lit up. "You missed me! You got here early? I thought you were at work this morning? Did you call in sick just to wait for me at an airport? Look at you – you did!"

  "Don't be ridiculous," Akk said, letting Ayan hip check him to absolutely no effect whatsoever as they crossed to the section where Akk had parked. "I had holiday hours to use."

  He waited a moment, smiling. "I've taken the rest of the week off."

  Ayan dragged him around again and all but jumped on him. They were in the middle of the car park with the sun beating down, but Ayan's mouth was on his properly for the first time in months and there wasn't a force on earth that could have kept Akk from dropping the bag and wrapping both arms around Ayan to kiss him back properly, almost lifting him completely.

  Ayan settled back onto his feet and grinned at him, a little more flushed than the travel and sun could account for.

  "Can we stop at your place first?" He asked, a little breathless and toying with the hem of Akk's shirt. "Maybe you forgot something."

  Akk laughed and shook his head, beeping the car open and heading around to the driver's side, letting Ayan shove his own bag into the back.

  They stopped at Akk's.

  They were late to lunch.

#suppaloscurse #ask post #so it is decreed #tuserhidden #akkayan #the eclipse #ficwit #halloween 23 #i have 3k of this but it's abandoned forever unless inspiration strikes #where do i put a fictional character for his fictional education these are the things that truly matter #i'm gonna have to start posting shorter snippets but kdsfkjsdg #i wanna share my nonsense with u alllll

[muzzlemouths]

dead mall dare crumb for the soul

#muzz mumbles #snippets #i am driving myself up a WALL trying to finish this thing #i promise dmd isn't dead i promised it isn't abandoned #puns not intended #i'm WORKING on it and it'll be out SOON or i'm going to walk myself into the atlantic ocean

[actuallyjustabiscuit]

[Preview] Closing the Distance: Chapter 3

Pomni thought she heard someone. She tried to focus but the constant static in her ears was making it difficult.

“ …ni……omn…”

Whoever they were, they sounded so far away. She wanted to call out to them. To do anything other than just sit here curled up in a tight little ball. But she remained locked in place. Her body refused to budge.

“Pom……mni…..Po…”

She could almost make out a name trying to push its way through the noise. A pathetic whimper slipped from her lips in her attempt to make her presence known.

“POMNI!”

Before she could register the voice, a pair of soft hands landed on Pomni’s shoulders and began to shake her. The sudden sensation of contact brought a wave of sharp pins to spike throughout her body. Her eyes flew wide open at the discomfort as blaring alarms replaced the static to rattle around inside her head.

Pomni felt her hands quickly curl up into tight fists. In one swift motion her right arm extended outward with all of her strength to sucker punch the person in front of her as she let out a broken yell. Her knuckles landed squarely on something plush, and whoever had their hands on her shoulders were abruptly thrown back from the force, effectively releasing her from their grip. The jester had her eyes shut tight with her head down, breathing heavily as she felt the pins gradually subside.

“……Ow,” she heard someone groan.

Pomni’s eyes flew open as her head darted up with a gasp. She finally recognized the voice. 

In front of her, sprawled on the checkered floor, lay Ragatha. The ragdoll had propped herself up on one hand while wincing as she rubbed her left cheek with the other. The pupil in her good eye had turned into a spiral as she sucked in a breath through gritted teeth.

Ragatha then blinked and her pupil returned to normal, settling on Pomni as the jester continued to look at her in quiet disbelief. The jester watched as the doll took a moment to straighten herself up and kneel in front of Pomni with both hands folded politely on her lap.

A wobbly smile fixed itself on Ragatha’s face. “Haha. Boy, that’s some right hook you got there,” she chuckled wearily. “Huh, New Stuff?” 

Pomni felt something wet trickling down her cheek. Her breathing slowly became ragged again as she stared at the doll in front of her. Ragatha’s face fell when the jester started to shake.

Gripping her head with both hands, Pomni began to sob.

I punched her. The static returned with full force as she continued to scream inside her head. I PUNCHED her. I PUNCHED HER. I JUST PUNCHED RAGATHA IN THE FACE.

#tadc fic #Pomni #Ragatha #harlequilt #jesterdoll #ragapom #buttonblossom #I swear I'm not abandoning this story #I'm just really insecure about my writing and I keep tinkering with my drafts #my favorite chapter so far #I actually had trouble picking a snippet to have as a preview because a lot goes on in this one #I don't like making them hurt each other #honest #I just find it funny #they're gonna be ok I promise #the amazing digital circus

[cynicalmusings]

IMAGINE A MASQUERADE BALL WITH XIAO???

…see, you’ve done the very dangerous thing of reminding me of the 100 followers special continuation i was planning that includes xiao and heizou… and a little of my cinderella au with him, too. 

but i need to brainrot about this now.

thing is… we could go down the usual route of fantasy masquerade ball with big fancy chandeliers and a nice ballroom, but i feel like a spin could be put on it to make it more interesting.

namely, cyberpunk; a setting that i think fits xiao very well. (let me generate some ideas for a second…)

maybe this masquerade ball is inspired by old fragments of books and paintings uncovered in the wreckage of historical buildings, and a group of people are trying to resurrect it, just for fun. it’s likely nowhere as grande as the ‘proper’ ones, and takes place in some abandoned warehouse or the basement of a pub. the music is an electronic, bass-y version of some classical pieces, performed by a mini-orchestra of electric classical instruments. there are some asymmetrical make-shift chandeliers welded from old bits of metal hanging from the ceiling, sporting some LED light bulbs. 

people come wearing all sorts of clothing; most try to imitate the gowns and suits worn in the old days but with a spin of cyberpunk, with metal masks and hand gauntlets, while a few wear visors and their typical fashion.

xiao’s mask is no doubt based on his yaksha mask, put together with metal and cogs and some pieces of wood, and there are neon blue lights around the eye sockets, which mirror his original mask’s glowing eyes. the fangs are made of steel and bronze. 

the atmosphere is lively, although the location is quite dark. as they dance, people try to guess who the person behind the mask is. xiao prefers not to know. 

xiao is a really, really good dancer. he meets you in one of the dances, and you’re floored by his dancing. his movements are fluid and graceful, almost like water, and each step and twirl is precise, like he’s been doing this all his life. he’s actually quite courteous while dancing, too; he’s a guy who prefers actions over words, so it’s no wonder that he lets his dancing speak for itself. he finds it so much easier to carefully spin you around than start a conversation, in which he’s certain he would come across as brash.

meanwhile, you try your very best to figure out who this person is, and whether you’ve met him before, but his identity eludes you. you only spend a brief time together before the music changes and you’re both met with new partners, but somehow he still stands out to you the most. 

after the dance, the crowds disperse, and you try and look for him, absentmindedly taking off your mask because the dance is over. for a moment, you catch a glimpse of glowing blue in the crowd, meeting your eyes from behind a familiar metal mask. when you blink, he’s gone, and you don’t find him again afterwards.

(meanwhile, xiao probably just ducked behind some wall or pillar because he was not prepared for you to be so stunning behind that mask and needed a second to gather his thoughts.)

#i’m imagining xiao practicing dancing in that abandoned warehouse from snippets of artwork and text about how it was done #he sneaks in in the middle of the night and dances to himself until dawn #and what if one day you go to that warehouse for whatever reason as well #and see him just standing in the middle of the warehouse and dancing #he MAKES the warehouse a ballroom #you almost forget that it’s a metal block of a building and imagine that there are tapestries on the walls and gold chandeliers overhead #there’s probably a convenient beam of moonlight hitting him from some hole in the ceiling #and you forget what you came there for because you’re completely entranced by this sight #maybe you knock something over and xiao realises someone’s there and quickly dons his mask to avoid recognition (he doesn’t know it’s you) #and then some other stuff happens which i’m too tired to come up with right now #case and point: cyberpunk xiao. #sent: astrididi #r answers #xiao x reader

[paintmegrey]

“—and you don’t trust me anymore! So I’ll have to walk on eggshells forever, because what—you’re scared of me?”

“I trust you with my life, James! It’s your life I don’t trust you with! It’s you I’m scared for…”

Good old jegulus snippet

#abandoned fic shit #snippet #jegulus angst #jegulus brainrot #jegulus fic #starchaser #marauders fic #james potter #regulus black #regulus black angst #fic writing

[cupidskissx]

Tag Game:

Tagged by the lovely, amazing, sweetest @charlescoded ❤️😍🥹

rule(s): post a snippet (however long or short or longish or shortish) from a wip !!

There’s no point trying to get back to sleep now, he’d only get dragged out of a dream and wake up groggy and sluggish. He’s also not in the mood to start the day off with answering emails so he might as well do something for himself.

He disconnects from the hotel WiFi, opens an incognito window and searches through the latest uploads on a porn site he stumbled upon in his teens. The videos in the thumbnail play on a four second loop, previewing the content.

Max isn’t a prude and he’s no stranger to rough, but he’s very particular when it comes to porn. He scrolls past anything involving latex, ropes or gags.

He clicks and lingers on a few videos that get his dick interested, until it becomes obvious the top is purely focused on his need to dominate and degrade in pursuit of his own pleasure. The bottom isn’t even hard for fuck’s sake.

Tagging: @il-predestinato @badboy-george @sunshineyoujustwait ❤️❤️

#Monaco Malaise Part 3 #Austria Abeyance #is this the only scene I’ve half written #yes #did I write this two months ago and never open it again #oui #am I feeling uninspired and at risk of abandoning this #affirmative #does that make me spiral into a sickening state of despair #double yes #maybe one day I’ll remember how to write this universe #snippet #tag game #L’s little things #lestappen

[nostalgia-tblr]

Six Seven Sentence Sunday

Doing this in the wild hope that it'll somehow motivate me to actually write some more words instead of just procrastinating all day (again). It's a snippet from the selfcest threesome fic (because obviously what the selfcest pairing needs is MORE selfcest!), but not a porny bit because I've not actually written any of the porn yet. Let me know what you think of my GENIUS solution to the obvious names/pronouns issue, which is to just refer to the other Loki as "the other Loki" throughout.

With a grin and a wave of his hand the other Loki produces one of those tiny paper umbrellas that people like to decorate their drinks with. This one is a metallic green and he leans over the table to stab the pointed stick into the lemon slice in Sylvie’s glass, a quite pathetic attempt to impress that in defiance of sense and fairness actually works, and she smiles her approval and giggles. Sylvie is not the giggling type, usually. Loki doesn’t say a word but his scowl speaks for him, eloquently enough that when the other Loki notices it he tuts and says, “Envy’s our worst habit, you know. Though it’s probably less destructive to covet a tiny umbrella than the throne of Asgard.” Which makes Sylvie laugh, and when Loki’s frown deepens she says, “Oh, come on, you can’t seriously be jealous of yourself. It’s not like he’s prettier than you.”

#fic snippets #six sentence sunday #sylki but with some extra sylki added to the usual amount of sylki #maybe this happened because i wrote SEVERAL fics in a row where loki didn't fuck himself and i needed to compensate? #lokicest #(i feel the need btw to note that the ao3 lokicest tag is about a decade old so don't tell me nobody ever thought of it before the series) #fic related #anyway next i need to finish either this or the 'fake drunk' one because s2 starts soon and i don't want to have to abandon them :( #and i assume about a month from now folk will only want to read about them banging in a mcdonalds (valid obvs but not what i have here)

[impishtubist]

snippet sunday

Sirius knows he shouldn’t be listening in on this conversation, and he truly means to walk away, but then he hears his name. 

“Is Padfoot your dad like you’re my dad?” Teddy asks.

“I didn’t grow up with Padfoot, buddy,” Harry says.

Sirius hears the frown in Teddy’s voice. “Why not? He’s your godfather, and you’re my godfather, so he should be your dad!” 

“Well, I was fifteen when he died,” Harry says. “And before then, Padfoot wasn’t able to raise me. He was…away for many years. He wanted to, but he couldn’t. So I never lived with him like you live with me.” 

“He could still be your dad, though.”

#imp is writing #snippet sunday #guess what i dug out of the abandoned drafts folder again #ten bucks says it'll be back in the abandoned drafts folder by the end of the week though #sirius black #teddy lupin #harry potter #this fic unfortunately acknowledges that remus/tonks happened but don't worry they were extremely unhappy #and then they died

[imwritesometimes]

when you know a little bit abt the history of something you wanna include in your fic and then you do some research and it turns out the more in depth historical facts actually help bolster what you envisioned for the fic

#this is not me up at 1:30am doing research for a fic. absolutely not. not happening. I am actually asleep. as I should be. #I haven't written a fic in almost a year ok. I'm just. a touch excited. #watching all those docu series over the last year actually paid off for fic lmao who'd have thought #I'm actually getting a little tiny teensy bit like hmmmmmm okay yeah abt this #I'm trying not to fck this up for myself and get too excited and then abandon this too but omg #I kinda wrote like. a whole page of notes & ideas and outline and even some dialogue snippets tonight #like who is this bitch? #special shout out to my WIP buddy lol got me thinking today!! #erin explains it all #i write sometimes #jfc i haven't used that tag in so long I forgot it was even one I used for a minute......

[laesas]

🎁 Have a piece of a WIP you want to share?

🥰

More fucked up sad boy Kim! Kim is kissing his brothers bodyguard and thinking about his guitar tutee a completely normal amount.

This next kiss is hungry, a clash of lips and teeth that Big, for his part, doesn’t try to soften.  Good. Kim doesn’t want soft. Chay might let WIK kiss him, but would he let Kim kiss him like this? Would he let Kim pin him to the corridor walls, press their bodies flush, lick whisky into his mouth? Would he arch under the press of Kim's hips? Would it matter that it was Kim, not WIK, that needed holding tighter than this? Would Chay hold him anyway despite it? When Porchay said he liked all sides of him, did he know what he was saying? What he was offering? What he was asking for? He barely knew Kim’s first name.  Would Porchay let him use him like this? Could he drive Kim to distraction? Would he let Kim kiss him and kiss him and kiss him until the adrenaline in Kim's veins felt like golden, heady desire, not distress seeping out of the desperate empty chasm of his chest? Would Chay let Kim corrupt him? Could Kim sit back and watch it happen? There's a small solace in the way that the hands settled softly at his waist have calluses on the trigger finger already. In the way that they were never his hands to corrupt.

#the way he's like ''I dont want soft'' and then immediately pictures kissing the softest most lovely boy imaginable. #like yeah its actually such a good thing that I'm kissing Big and not Chay right now because uhhhhhhh maybe the kiss would be.. too good..? #boy. #I swear #also sorry. just hyping myself up at this point #but I like the way that Big is the one that isn't holding Kim tightly enough and the way Kim is starting to think Chay could #Duty as softness and Love as violence. interesting. interesting. sorry. not love it's uhhhhh uhhhhhhhhhhhhh well. #its something #Kimchay #kimbig #kim theerapanyakul #ask #ask meme #gayzuko #love you love u #sorry for not having any snippets you havent already read because all I do is get excited and show you my writing lol #also sorry for chickening out of posting the abandoned KimBig pwp thats never going to be published lol

[binghe-malewife-goals]

Bq from my notes I don't remember sharing on here

they're so gross 🥰

#svsss #bingqiu #luo binghe #shen qingqiu #stole this from my twt #posting this so u all know im not abandoning svsss JDNDN #notes app #snippet

[starstaiined]

it hits her one night without warning, as she's kneeling on broken bottles nursing her mother's latest bender.

sam isn't coming back.

tara meets her mother's dark eyes, clouded from alcohol and god knows what else, and suddenly she's eleven and panicking as sam stumbles and slurs messy apologies. her chests constricts sharply. her ribs bite into the fragile edges of her bleeding heart. it's okay, hey, it's okay, i'm okay, it's okay. she murmurs the same lie now that she did then. it blurs the line between past and present a little more. tars never noticed how much sam looked like their mother before now. christina had always been sharp edges and sharper words, leaving tara in pieces like shrapnel littering the battlefield of her childhood home. cruel indifference or pointed malice: tara never knew which was worse.

but if christina had been the open wound, sam had been the balm. gentle eyes and gentler hands, always reaching out to patch up her wounds and guide her in the right direction. when christina tore her to pieces, sam sat and stirched her together again. when christina picked up a sword, sam picked up a shield. they were two opposing forces. they couldn't be more different.

but as tara drapes a blanket over her mother, as she brushes back messy hair, it's like someone superimposed an image of sam months before she left. the haze of drugs, the festering loneliness, the haunting heartbreak. it makes her dizzy. she wonders, briefly, if tragedy had been bred into their blood.

sam, the victim. sam, the villain. sam, the martyr. sam, the monster. sam, the light. sam, the liar.

sam, who's gone.

sam, who left.

sam.

tara's throat tightens. her fingers curl into fists as the fire starts licking at the bottom of her spine and blazes into a roaring inferno: she's choking on ashes and smoke as her ears ring.

sam is gone.

sam left.

sam is never coming back.

her eyes meet the foyer mirror, and tara jerks back violently. those eyes ... dark, miserable, lonely, haunted, manic ... they aren't hers. they're sam's. the slope of her nose, the curve of her cheekbones, the bow of her lips ... it's all sam. sam and their stupid fucked up family legacy. glass shatters as tara's wilted fingers fly into it. again, and again, and again, and again, and again—

she isn't sure when the screaming devolved into crying or when that desolved into bone deep weariness: all she's sure of is one thing.

sam isn't coming back.

tara stumbles up the stairs and to an empty room, untouched in almost two years.

sam isn't coming back.

she curls up on the bed, bloody knuckles staining it with more than memories as she sniffles.

sam isn't coming back.

and for all intents and purposes, neither is tara.

#alcoholism tw #implied abuse tw #implied neglect tw #have this harried 2am snippet of a scene playing on repeat in my mind #i have so many feelings when it comes to the time sam was away #and the way tara copes with that abandonment #but sjskissnsk that's so much energy to write out in full #scream #tara carpenter #sam carpenter #christina carpenter #the carpenter sisters #after this tara starts covering mirrors #she can't stand her eyes #they remind her too much of sam