#excerpt from a story i will write

[new-beginnings-old-habits]

- „Zar još uvek?“

- „Zauvek.“

[katabay]

PAGLUIB

way back in like. march?? I took a stab at writing some kind of kabitserye type of story but it was a mess: it kept veering off into murder mystery drama territory because I was reading a lot of murder mystery novels around then and it Wasn't Good because I hadn't tried writing mysteries, let alone murder mysteries, before lmao

I did write a handful of short mystery stories since then, so next year I might take a stab at this idea again now that I'm no longer jumping head first into a genre pool I don't know how to swim in :)

[myonlywayoutofhere]

“I want you to love me but I understand why you love her instead”

-day 599 (via myonlywayoutofhere)

[excerptsofstories]

She started walking away from him, and there was a brief look of desperation on his face. "Wait," he called out, hoping she would stay for just a bit longer. "Don't go." She turned around and hesitated, before saying, "It's over. You can tell me a thousand lies. You can say that you've never met anyone like me before. You can laugh at all my jokes and stare at me like I'm the only woman in the world. You can tell me that it's always been me. But at the end of the day, she's the one you go home to. And I finally understand that that's never going to change."

Excerpt from a book I will never write #1425

[averlym]

fairest of the fair

[stevebabey]

“Well,” Eddie mutters, more to himself. He rolls his shoulders back to shake his nerves and grips the rope of sheets in his hands tighter. “Here goes nothing.”

He tosses the rope up, aiming for the centre of the gate and just when he thinks it’s too short of a throw—that it will just fall back to the ground in a pathetic heap—something catches.

The sheets twist and then suddenly go taut, strung out through the middle of the gate, pulled by gravity in either direction.

Eddie huffs a relieved laugh, grinning up at the ceiling. He turns to look over his shoulder and Steve’s staring at the gate, green eyes wide and quizzical.

“Dude,” He says, taking another step so he’s shoulder to shoulder with Eddie. He peers forward, gaze trailing up the rope and seeing just what Eddie's done.

“You made a ladder,” He breathes, awed sounding.

Something warm in Eddie’s chest aches at the sound of Steve’s voice, admiring and directed solely at him. He huffs another laugh, nervous this time, and scratches the back of his neck.

“Wish I could take the credit, Stevie,” The nickname slips out without permission and Eddie catches the way Steve’s attention snaps over to him. “But I only borrowed the idea from Henderson.”

Steve smiles still, nudging Eddie’s shoulder with his own. “You can take a little credit. I won’t tell.”

another excerpt from you're not from around here, are you? final three, coming 31/10 <3 tehe @steddiebang2024

[lost-in-time-marie]

The air is still at 4 am and I find it pleases me, in the minutes and moments before the world really wakes up. We’re the only disturbance at this hour, the groan of my chair, the gentle whooshing of distant cars, the few chirps of the rare early bird. I can almost convince myself that time moves slow, pouring like molasses from the jar, instead of sand rushing through an hourglass. The air has been cold these days, and it is a welcome reprieve. The crispness of it fills my chest, I dig out my sweater and put it to use, my skin shrinking from the chill for a change. It doesn’t suffocate, it doesn’t drown, in fact, it invigorates. After all these years, my blood refuses to succumb to the heat; the rebellion, the rejection of this place is physically rooted in me.

When I stay up all night, I feel like a kid. I can still remember my childhood bedroom, shared with my sister, and the sleepover with her neighborhood friend. We bought Monsters and sodas and candies from the Dollar General in walking distance. Staying up all night was an event, a celebration, an adventure. I can still see the soft pink light and gentle baby blue of the sunrise over the houses across the way, as I sit on the marble sill of our second story window. I think somewhere in my trunk of the past, I still have a picture of that sunrise.

Abby is dead now, all that’s left of her are the few random shots we took on an old camera together, some of them with the eyes cut out from when I used to collage. And that’s the crazy thing about time, life, existence. Nobody tells you about how sunrises change and so do the people you greet them with, and sometimes people and places and times are gone and there’s no getting them back, and how, somehow, that fact is both devastatingly painful and, simultaneously, a thankful rejoice.

~K.

[alexandriahampton]

I spent so long wanting to fix you

that I lost myself in the burden

of trying to be your savior.

-Alexandria Hampton, from my poetry book: Metamorphosis 🦋

[maiafields]

~ August Body ~

Summer is the time where i wait to feel like a person again. I wear my body thin and my skin grows coarser. My hair is a frizzy dry mess that carelessly is shoved atop my head. When does the body feel alive again? When did it start to feel dead?

I’ve grown homesick of myself Trying to reform those i miss in my image I don’t want to forget them But they don’t match my form completely I’ve become misshapen in my want for them My skin has become dissolved of itself, Leaving a sour taste behind on my tongue Who am i but the memory of myself and others? Who am i devoid of it all?

-maia fields

[loveistheword]

His pretty doe eyes.

Now how do I explain how his eyes made me feel...

His pretty eyes that smiled whenever his lips did. His beautiful brown eyes that held the whole world in them. His captivating eyes with so much depth yet so much innocence that they couldn't lie in any which way. His loving eyes that never judged, only listened. His kind doe eyes that never understood how pure he is for this world.

You could read his life through his eyes... they never held grudges, nor did they carry any agenda.

While they warned to not wear a heart on a sleeve, he unapologetically wore his in his eyes.

His eyes that make me feel enough. His eyes that make me feel whole. His eyes that look like home.

[heartoflesh]

You weren't my first love. But you were my first real love. It hurts that much because I thought this was it for me. I thought you were my end and my beginning. I thought that I could finally lean into it. You were the first person I imagined life with. We made promises that I intended to keep. Yes, it hurts that much because it was you and me and it was real.

Excerpts from a book I'll never write, William

[charlesreedscoolhat]

Charles: and how do I contact you in the future?

Johannes: you don't 🌟 bye you soggy bitch ✨️🕺✨️🕺🟨🟨🟨

[ratatatastic]

do you write fic on ao3?

unfortunately for everyone involved i do!

[adastraetretro]

"You've lived lives before me, and you'll live many more lives after me, but my whole life will be lived with you."

[excerptsofstories]

One minute you’re 16 thinking that this is the end of your life because you think you can’t deal with what you’re going through right now. Then the next thing you know, you’re almost in your mid-twenties, having the time of your life, living when you thought you’d be dead by now. You never thought you would come this far, but you did. And if no one has told you yet, I’m so proud of you.

Excerpts from a book I will never write #1445

[ninichii-xcix]

“No matter how badly he hurt and scarred me, he is — and always will be — my better half. My soulmate. I loved him then when I was young and hopeful and quite naive, and I will continue to love him until the end of my days when I’m old and slow and wise enough to know better.”