#i'm gonna go cry myself to sleep

[dangraccoon]

I Don't Know Anymore

Day 29 ~ "who said you could rest?" ~

Wrecker

Word Count: 1399 Content: DARK CONTENT: 18+ Minors DNI, Slavery (Zygerrians), Abuse, Starvation, Dehydration, Electrocution, Hopelessness, Giving Up/In, Resentment, TBB's Chips Activate, Implied Completion of the mission to Onderon in s01e01

“Good work on Onderon, sergeant,” Tarkin hummed with a smirk. “I must admit, given the extensive documentation of your unit’s deviance, I am somewhat surprised by your loyalty to the Empire.”

“Thank you, sir,” Hunter said. “I hope it’s a… pleasant surprise?”

“Indeed. Your unique squad will be quite an asset. Your next orders should arrive soon.”

The door slid shut behind the Admiral, the squad falling out of their rigid formation.

Tarkin was right; their orders arrived only a few hours later. 

“‘CT-9903 is to report to Hangar 21-D at 1800. All other members of Clone Force 99 are to report to Conference Room K-02 at 0600 tomorrow,’” Tech read out.

“Awh,” Wrecker grumbled. “Why am I different?”

“Does it matter?” Crosshair rolled his eyes, flicking his toothpick toward him.  

“You’ll probably just get to miss the briefing,” Hunter assured him. “You’ve always hated those anyway.”

The few short hours passed uneventfully until Wrecker stood at the doors, ready to head to the hangar. “See you later?”

Hunter only nodded. 

As he walked into the seemingly empty hangar, something deep in the back of Wrecker’s mind whispered that something wasn’t right.

That same voice practically screamed as the door shut behind him, boxing him into the room.

“Someone there?” he called. “I think I’m supposed to be here.”

“Yes, you are,” Admiral Tarkin said, stepping out of the shadows. “Place your armor and gear in this crate; the associate we’re meeting should be arriving soon.”

The outer doors began to open as Wrecker deposited the last of his armor plates.

Wrecker narrowed his eyes at the incoming ship. “An Aurore-class freighter?”

Tarkin ignored him, moving to greet the Zygerian that stepped down from the lowering ramp.

“Prime Minister Molec,” he said.

“Admiral,” Molec purred. His eyes fell on Wrecker. “Is this the… specimen of which you spoke?”

“Yes,” Tarkin nodded. “As I previously mentioned, his unit will be used for stealth missions, and he is the… weakest link in that circumstance.”

Wrecker frowned but remained silent as the Zygerian prime minister circled him.

“Yes, I think he will do well,” he hummed.

Tarkin nodded. “I assume you have the sum of credits we discussed?”

“I do.”

—

He coughed harshly, the dryness in his throat stinging. He glanced over his shoulder at the guard glaring at one of his crewmates as she swung her pick at the wall. 

The sharp groan of metal breaking rang out and he could hear the young nautolan woman’s tremors.

“P-please, it- it was an accident,” she pleaded, her voice rough from disuse as the guard approached her, his electro-whip crackling in his hand.

He turned his face as the whip cracked and the woman cried out. Over the 11 months he’d been chained to the walls of these mines, he’d earned his share of new scars and felt the all-encompassing despair that racked his body as the electricity surged through. 

Most of his so-called “transgressions” were in defense of his crewmates, but it always ended the same way: both he and the original victim were beaten until they could barely stand. He’d stopped standing up against the guards for others about a week in, realizing it to be hopeless. His crew would be punished if they didn’t reach the minimum weight, and if he wasn’t taken down, they stood a greater chance. Passing the minimum weight meant their rations wouldn’t be reduced.

He’d tried to escape once. He waited until the guards changed shifts, easily breaking the chains and shock collar that trapped him, and he made a run for it.

He didn’t even reach the door before being caught, subdued, and punished.

He tried to tune out the woman’s cries, but he knew he’d hear them echoing in his mind. He lowered his pick to the ground, his ribs still sore and burning from his last beating.

“Who said you could rest?” another guard snarled, having appeared behind him.

His body fought to speak, to raise his fists against the slaver, but instead, he simply turned away, lowering himself to his knees to accept the inevitable punishment.

It hurt, of course. It hurt every time. Idly, he wondered if he was here long enough– if he endured enough cracks of those damned whips– if he willed his heart to just stop caring, would it stop the pain? Would all the nerves that screamed out for help finally die away, leaving him blessedly numb? 

The volume-sensitive shock collars had stolen that strong-willed, boisterous personality from him and left him with more time to think than he’d ever allowed before.

He had heard the prayers sent on hushed breaths to gods he couldn’t comprehend believing in. He’d never held an interest in religion or belief but found that as he looked around at the chained souls around him–hurt, starving, forsaken–he couldn’t bring himself to believe in the idea of any benevolent, loving maker. If one were real, how could they let their believers suffer like this? Where was the divine retribution for their torturers? No, he didn’t believe in their gods but he found more and more that it was just that he was here. 

The thought of his brothers with each lashing he received. He remembered their fierce, defiant natures and the way each one of them would stand up for what they thought was right. Because of this, he found himself thinking more and more of Onderon. 

Every sleepless night, every scrap of food confiscated, every drop of water denied–it was for them; for the souls he and his brothers deprived of the rest of their lives by some senseless order. They’d defied orders for less, but that one? They followed that order to the letter. 

So yes, he thought of his brothers. He thought of their final mission together. He wondered if they still lived, untethered and free beneath the millions of stars that dotted the sky. He wondered if the Empire sold their souls like they’d sold him. He wondered if they were paying for their sins or committing more. He wondered if they knew what happened to him. He wondered if they even cared.

Bitter resentment had long been brewing in his gut. He no longer wished for the flashes of comforting armor. He couldn’t picture the twirl of Hunter’s blade as it flew through the air into a guard's neck. He couldn’t imagine the careful dance through the enemy forces Tech would conduct as he set up a chain reaction. He couldn’t hear the even, steady beat of Crosshair’s rifle as his captors were picked off one by one. He couldn’t dream of Echo helping him to his feet, steadying his breaking body. 

He couldn’t feel the thrill of imagining his squad–his brothers–coming to save him from the relentless oppression he’d been sold into. 

He wasn’t an idiot; he knew that curiosity would have gotten the better of Tech. He knew his brother would look for him, and that between Tech and Echo, they could’ve found him if they cared to. 

But he knew they didn’t. 

He groaned as he lifted himself back up from the ground, back still stinging. 

An alarm sounded, indicating a shift change. He looked toward the woman whose pick had broken. She was out cold on the ground, the meager, so-called “clothing” they’d dressed them all in was all but disintegrated where it had laid across her back. The remnants of his heart ached for her. 

He turned her over, gently nudging her shoulder. When she didn’t wake, he snaked his arms around her back and beneath her legs, lifting her to rest against his chest. 

Her large, dark eyes opened slightly. Her lips moved, words softly carrying across her breath so only he could pick up through such careful practice. Any volume higher and the collar would activate. “What is your name?”

He hesitated with a scowl. It had been so long since he’d had any name, let alone the one he and his brothers had chosen. The very, very few times he had been referred to by anything beyond the harsh insults hurled at him by the guards and masters, it had been by his birth number or the number they’d branded to the back of his neck. Which would he give her? One slave number or the other?

His jaw shook as he mouthed his response. “I don’t know anymore.”

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Thanks for reading! - River

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[shaottzang]

why I feel like I shouldn't be seeing this..

photos taken from x.com

[lost-in-fandoms]

Angry kitten knight Max. Not as much kitten time as I would have wanted. Part 1 here.

Daniel is sparring with Alex when Max comes to get him.

Daniel sees him cutting through the courtyard, people jumping out of his way after one look at his stormy expression, and barely manages to avoid Alex's next hit, attention already fully on their Captain.

When he comes closer, Daniel can see his clenched hands, cheeks splotchy with angry red, eyes steely. It's not a rare occurrence for Max to get snappy and angry, but it's been a very long time since Daniel has seen him so genuinely upset.

"What happened, Captain?" he asks, handing Alex his practice sword without looking, other hand already raising towards Max's shoulder.

"Come with me," is all Max says, voice icy, dodging his touch.

Daniel wouldn't even think about refusing, but Max doesn't give him a chance to anyway, immediately turning around and marching towards the barracks, exuding so much fury it almost feels like the day is a little darker.

Daniel is pretty sure he's done nothing wrong. He's had his shift on the walls earlier in the morning, to which he wasn't even late, had some lunch and then went to the courtyard. He's also pretty sure, despite Max's behavior, that this doesn't actually have something to do with him. Max had been stuck in yet another council with the King for the best part of the day, which never puts him in a good mood.

When they reach his room, Max pushes the door open so violently it bounces off the wall with a bang, taking two final steps inside and then.

Stopping.

Daniel gently closes the door.

He can see the tension in the way Max is holding himself, ready to snap like a bow cocked for too long, breathing heavily as if he had run the whole way around the castle, and not just walked up two flights of stairs.

"Max," Daniel starts, immediately discarding titles as they always do when they're alone, but then he doesn't know how to continue. He doesn't know what Max is upset about, what he needs. Doesn't know if he'll explode if Daniel prods, or if he'll break.

Max turns around to face him. His jaw is still clenched, frustration etched into every single one of his features, but it looks like he's making an active effort to breathe through it. Daniel isn't sure that will work.

He readies himself to speak up again, but Max interrupts him, words spilling out between gritted teeth.

"He is so, he does not listen! I have said that we cannot, of course, keep holding onto the western border if he keeps insisting on pushing the eastern one, but he says..." his hand slashes through the hair as he exhales heavily through his nose, anger choking him.

"We will just lose men and land if he goes through with this plan!" he snarls. Daniel can see him starting to work himself up even more, and he takes a step forward. He understands where Max is coming from, he really does. It's his men, their friends, who will be sent to a useless and avoidable death if the King decides to go through with this. It might be him. It might be Daniel.

So yes, he understands Max's anger and frustration. But right now his priority is another one, and that's making sure Max doesn't breaks his teeth by grinding them too hard.

"I have shown him, over and over, but he is so..."

Max is still ranting, but Daniel just places both hands on his shoulders and pulls him in a hug, holding him still even as he squirms, with a sound that's almost a growl.

"Max," Daniel says again, squeezing him tighter. Max stops moving.

"Tell me what you need."

For a second, he's sure he miscalculated and Max is actually going to pull back and go back to his rant, or maybe punch him, but then Max slumps against him, forehead landing heavily on his shoulder.

"I left the council before being dismissed, or I was going to get beheaded for regicide."

Daniel can't help himself, lets out a huff of laughter, feeling the way Max giggles a little too. It's not that funny, Max is going to get in trouble for it, but it is a little funny, the idea of the Captain storming out of the meeting room to avoid snapping the King's neck.

"I'm proud of you, I kinda like your head where it is," he says, half joking and half fond, pressing a kiss into Max's hair. "Now, will you tell me what I can do for you?"

He knows that the reason Max came all the way to the courtyard couldn't have been just to rant at him, but he can't quite figure out if Max wants to have sex or to just be held like this.

Turns out, it's neither of the things.

"I need..." Max hesitates, carefully extracting himself from Daniel's hug and looking at him with unusual shyness. He doesn't finish his sentence. One second Daniel is patiently waiting for his boyfriend to let him know how to help, and the next he's looking down at a kitten, sitting between his feet.

He smiles, crouching down and offering him a finger to sniff. He understands now. Feelings are easier when Max is shifted, his brain quieter, all complicated thoughts less important. He's still fully Max, fully present, but it's easier for him to sort through the bullshit, to let his senses take over a little.

"Hi, baby," Daniel whispers, running his fingertip over Max's soft little head, lightly scratching behind his jaw. Max blinks up at him for a second, before turning around and jumping onto the bed, curling in a tiny little ball on top of the pillow.

"You want to take a nap?"

It's not a smart idea, Max will for sure have people looking for him, and Daniel has things to do, but Max blinks at him, somehow managing to pout even in kitten form, and Daniel is on the bed before he can even think twice about it.

Max impatiently waits for him to settle, meowing with his little kitten voice and hitting him with his little kitten paws, climbing on top of him as soon as Daniel stops moving. He curls up on his favorite spot, right on top of his collarbone, wet nose pressed against Daniel's neck, and Daniel can almost feel the moment he lets go, fully relaxing on top of him.

He can for sure feel it when he starts purring, more loudly than one would assume for such a little thing, and it makes Daniel smile.

Neither of them really falls asleep, but it's enough to be like this, in this little room, just them for a little while.

[greensagephase]

So I had wrote out a massive paragraph talking about different songs that I hoped might inspire you for Nonviolent Communication regarding Gabriella and Miguel… However, tumblr had other ideas and decided to reload and delete all of my hard work.

So first things first, highly recommend you check out the song Happy/Sad by Nathan Lane featured in the Adams Family Movie where Gomez is singing to Wednesday about growing up because to me it reminds me of how Miguel would react to Gabriella and we all know Miguel is very Gomez coded.

Secondly, because tumblr’s cruelties, I just said fuck it and rather typing out every single song for you to go back and forth listening to I just made a playlist.

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/74RQFVEFTmHizHTshKg5dS?si=mFg1O5fHTLy226vYohjnUw

Here is the link to it, I made it especially for you.

Last thing before I go.

Y/N x Miguel especially for NVC…

Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol.

Trust me.

Rue... I'm sitting here first of all, feeling so touched about the playlist!!! As Dr. Doofenshmirtz (Phineas and Ferb) once said, if I had a nickel for every time someone made a music playlist for one of my writing projects, I'd have two nickels, which isn't a lot but it's weird (AWESOME) that it happened twice!!! EEEEEEEE, THANK YOU OMG!!!!!!! You're the second person that's made one for me in almost 10 years (the first being my best friend for an old fanfic back in the wattpad days)!!!

Second... Rue!!!!!! I swear there's only like 13 songs I don't recognize at all, but the rest are in my liked songs already!!! The following songs: - "Isn't She Lovely" - "Your Song" - "Slipping Through My Fingers" (OH MY GOD HOW DID I FORGET ABOUT THIS SONG FOR NC!?!?!?! IT BREAKS MY HEART EVERY TIME, I'M LITERALLY CRYING RN 😭😭) - "Butterfly Fly Away" - "Chiquitita" (no bc how do you know I'm a big fan of ABBA???? I love them and this song!!!) - "Thank You For The Music" - "Tu Sangre en Mi Cuerpo" (girl, you listen to Pepe Aguilar?? I'M SHOOK!!! And now I'm imagining Miguel and Gabby singing this together, brb... gonna go cry again😭) - "Matilda" (no, the way I was listening to this song the other day and thinking about Miguel??? "You can let it go/you can throw a party full of everyone you know/and not invite your family, cause they never showed you love" and "you can start a family who will always show you love/you don't have to be sorry for doing it on your own" tell me this isn't Miguel!! 😭😭I was already thinking of adding this one for a future chapter) - "Beautiful Boy" - "Yellow" - "The Scientist" - "Rivers and Roads"(I heard this one again a few days ago while on shuffle, and I was thinking this would be a good song for NC, hehe!) - "Promise" (this Laufey song always gets me omg) - "Pluto Projector" - "Heart To Heart" (one of my favs by DeMarco) - "Are you Lonesome Tonight?" (one of my fav songs by Presley, period!! Always gets me emotional) - "Ma Belle Evangeline" (The Princess and the Frog is one of my fav princess movies ever (probably the second; it switches with Rapunzel; depends on the day) and I love this song by Ray!!) - "Recuerdame" (YOU CAME STRAIGHT FOR ME WITH THIS ONE AND I WAS THINKING ABOUT ADDING IT BUT THEN DECIDED AGAINST IT BECAUSE I KNEW I WAS GOING TO CRY HARDER IF I DID😭😭😭😭)

these songs literally have me like this rn ⬇️

ALSO NOT "CHASING CARS" PLSSSSSS THAT SONG ALWAYS MAKES ME WANT TO CRY WITHOUT FAILURE - it's nearly 1am and I'm listening to it now and trying not to cry about it (again) AHHHH BUT YOU'RE SO RIGHT - IT'S FITTING!!!

I'm def adding some of these, Rue!!!!! Thank you for making this playlist for me, I'm so happy right now 😭😭 This was so sweet of you!!! Also, I'm sorry Tumblr messed up your post!! I've seen some people complain about tumblr doing that to them, it sucks!!!

But THANK YOU, THANK YOU, THANK YOU!!! I LOVE THIS PLAYLIST!!!! I hope you're having a wonderful week so far, Rue!!! 💕💕🫶🏼����

Alondra❤️

[dukeofqueers]

feeling like absolute shit i just want Deogracias back

[coquelicoq]

.

[disdaidal]

I wanna thank my irl friends who follow me here and also my beloved mutuals as well as followers who still send me kind messages and try to interact with me and my stuff even if I'm bad at doing it myself.

Honestly, things haven't been that great with me lately, so... it means a lot to me. Honestly. <3

[blackwolfstabs]

30 Day Writing Challenge: Day 15

LET GO

"You have to let me go." - the hardest decision and one hell of a commitment.

inspired by the song "I Loved Her First" by Heartland

I was enough for her, not long ago. I was her number one, she told me so. 

Tara was 20-going-on-21. She was growing up. She was moving on. She was independent and dependable. She was smart and courageous. She was everything Sam would ever hope for her to be.

Except not staying her little girl forever… 

Sam remembered everything. Everything they ever had before it all changed, before their fallout, before she left. Ten years, five years, one year, all of the time wasted and estranged meant nothing. It didn’t hold a candle to the amount of memories she could talk hours about. She couldn’t tell you she’d been there for her baby sister’s whole life, but she could tell you anything you’d want to know about her. She remembered every fight, every smile, every laugh, every cry, every pain, every hug, every kiss, every “Sammy”— 

Sammy… That’s a name she hadn’t heard in a long time. It was Tara’s name for her… Her special name. She had said that more times than she had said “Mama” or “Daddy”, more than she had said “Mom” or “Dad.” She had said that more than she had ever said any other name in the whole world. Now, she was just Sam, and that was fine. But she couldn’t forget what it meant to be Sammy. What it meant to be the one Tara would cry for in the middle of the night when she was being sleep trained and was tired of going back and forth from their parents’ bedroom. What it meant to be the one she hugged every day when she came home from school. What it meant to hold her hand at the doctor’s office or push her on the swing. What it meant to be adored and believed in, no matter how impossible the challenge. What it meant to be Tara’s Number 1…

“You’re my number one, Sammy! I love you!”

It’s not that Tara loved her any less or that she ignored her. It wasn’t that she didn’t care about her or was leaving so they’d never see each other again. They saw each other every day. They talked every day. They still said, “I love you” and “Goodnight” and “How are you?” to each other. 

But it wasn’t the same. 

There was hurt and scars deep in that girl’s eyes. Her smile hadn’t changed, but it hid a million tragedies. She was no longer innocent in the way that pain and suffering and fear were the worst in the forms of splinters, not getting the stuffed animal she wanted, or what might be hiding under her bed. Tara knew what it was like to have broken bones and scars permanently tattooed onto her skin. She knew what it was like to beg for mercy as she bled out and drag herself helplessly across a cold floor in hopes that a serial killer with a blood lust would have mercy on her life. She knew what it was like to shake so violently that it took mountains of drugs to sedate her and scream herself hoarse trying to fight for everything she had to lose. She knew what it was like to be so far gone that trauma was the only thing that pulled her back.

And then Chad came along… 

And she still means the world to me, just so you know, so be careful when you hold my girl. 

He and Tara were a match made that Sam never saw coming. When she had first returned to Woodsboro, she thought of him having grown up to be the stereotypical jock that you see in the movies. However, once he lost Liv and Tara lost Amber, something between them sparked. It was subtle, but Sam had babysat Chad long enough to figure him out as if he were her brother. She noticed the way he was careful around her younger sister, watching how he moved to make sure he never made her uncomfortable and how he was always there to watch out for her when Sam wasn’t around. Trauma had matured them both, as sad as that was to say, but in the same token, they bonded over that. 

Sam respected how protective Chad was over Tara. How he was the one nearly caught in a fight when Frankie intended to drag Tara up the stairs and rape her. How he held the door for her and pulled her out of harm’s way whenever she tried to rush into danger. How he held her when she was hurting and kissed her goodnight. She knew she could trust him with her only sister, the person she cared the most about in this cruel world. And she would never love anyone more.

Tara was her girl, no matter who she devoted her heart to. 

And if it was Chad, so be it.

Time changes everything, life must go on. I’m not gonna stand in your way.

Yes, Tara had grown up. She didn’t cry anymore when she fell down. She wasn’t clingy when they were in a new place. She didn’t ask for help with her homework or crawl into Sam’s bed in the middle of the night just because she “missed her”.

She was still young, but she couldn’t be tied to Sam’s side anymore. She had to let her go.

And she did. That night she had given Tara the knife, while she hung off the balcony, their bloodied hands clutching each other’s wrists like they were all they had to lose.

“You have to let me go.”

Since then, they had become closer as sisters but even more distant in boundaries. Tara was free, because she proved to herself and Sam that she could take care of herself. So, she went to college, stayed up late, walked to and from therapy sessions by herself, hung out with friends, hit up a movie theater every now and then, and just indulged in her collar-free lifestyle. She always told Sam where she was going and how long she’d be out, but she was alone in doing it. All her older sister could do was say, “Okay. Be careful. I love you.”

And in reply, she’d hear, “I will. Love you too.”

She had made a promise to Tara that she’d always be there for her, but she understood that she couldn’t keep her sheltered from the rest of the world. Tara had a tough background; she deserved the freedom, trust, and independence she had to go where she wanted, experience what life had to offer, and love who she couldn’t live without.

Sam couldn’t stand in her way any longer. 

I loved her first. I held her first. And a place in my heart will always be hers.

But no matter where Tara went, how long she stayed away, and who she spent her days and nights with, Sam would always be the first one to love her. Sure, she may have gone to school with Chad Meeks-Martin. She may have shared her lunch with him. She may have raced him on the playground and gave him hours of her time after school when Sam would babysit both twins and Wes Hicks. She may have fallen in love with him. She may have kissed him and sat in his lap late at night. She may have pushed his buttons, and he may have pushed hers. She may have done a lot of things.

But Sam had always been the first one to do any of them. She was the reason Tara knew what all those things felt like and how they made her feel.

She loved her first, and no matter how old Tara was or where life took her, Sam would always hold everything she had of her baby sister in a special place in her heart.

From the first breath she breathed, when she first smiled at me. I knew the love of a sister runs deep.

The day she was born. Her first word. Her first asthma attack. All of her doctor’s visits. Her sleep training. The day she lost her first tooth. Her first day of pre-k. Her first day of kindergarten. Evey milestone Tara had in her childhood, Sam was there for. 

As far as she was concerned, being the older sister meant being anything and everything for her baby sister, even if it was impossible. If Tara was scared, she wasn’t. If Tara needed a doctor on sight, Sam vowed she would get her to one by carrying her on her back. If Tara asked for one more bedtime story, one more hug, one more goodnight kiss, Sam would give it to her. Anything Tara wanted was hers, no matter how hard it was to get.

She never could stand it when her younger sister would cry, no matter the age. When Tara was a baby, she’d keep asking her mom why she was crying, convinced something was wrong when she was told that babies just cry sometimes. When she would accidently push Tara down while playing, she would beg her parents that it was an accident, that she didn’t mean to hurt her or make her cry. When Tara was being sleep-trained, Sam would cover her ears to block out her constant wailing when she would be put back into her room. She’d listen to her sobs and pleas, asking for one more hug or pull an excuse just to get her way. But when Tara would give up on their parents and started to call out “Sammy! I need you, Sammy!”, she gave in every time. Because when she saw her tears dry before she drifted off to sleep, happy that she was no longer alone, Sam couldn’t think of anything else in the world that was more precious than her existence.

And I prayed that she’d find you someday. But it’s still hard to give her away…

If only Tara could have always been that happy. If only she could have always stayed that innocent. But life was never fair to the ones that didn’t deserve its wrath.

However, it had given her so much to live for. Her degree. Chad. Her future. The rest of her life.

And as hard as it was to let her go, Sam knew she had to. For Tara’s sake. Because like it had been from the start, she’d forever do whatever it took to make sure she was happy. 

Even if it was impossible.

I loved her first.

She knew from day 1 that she could never love anyone more than the baby girl with the most beautiful smile in the world. She would never want anything but the best for the baby girl with the most beautiful name in the world.

Tara Carpenter.

How could that beautiful woman with you be the same freckled-face kid that I knew?

And Sam had never been more right about anything in her life. Tara was gorgeous, and everyone thought so too. She’d come home from her college classes and go on and on about how many boys tried to get her number or make a move on her. Then, she’d proudly talk about how she’d turn them down and flash them her lock screen—which was of her and Chad celebrating New Year’s—as she walked by.

She carried herself with confidence, she said what she pleased, she wasn’t afraid to speak her mind, and she had no problem throwing a punch to someone who deserved it. Samantha couldn’t believe how much she’d grown from being that little girl that would hide behind her, because she was too shy. That little girl who would look up at her with the biggest eyes and brightest grin, saying “Sammy, guess what I did today?” The little girl that once thought she was the queen of the household, just because her big sister doted on her so much.

She was the same person who had done all that, but no one would’ve thought it. 

The one that I read all those fairy tales to… and tucked into bed all those nights.

Oh, God, and how Sam would do everything a thousand times over, if it only meant Tara could stay little forever.

There were many times that their parents were working or having heated discussions in their room, so it would be up to Sam to read Tara her bedtime story or tuck her in. It became a routine, and she enjoyed it so much that she took it up to be her responsibility each night. They were both learning, so why not do it together?

She would always let Tara pick the book and choose how many times she wanted to hear it. Tara always sat in her lap or leaned against her with all her weight from the side. Sam never minded it when she’d shout out the words on the next page before she even turned it or the way she would insist she wasn’t tired—that she wanted to hear it again—even though she was yawning and rubbing her eyes.

And when Sam got her in bed and tucked her in, Tara would rehearse the same phrase she’d learned from one of her books, except she had her own little twist on it.

“I’ll love you forever, I’ll like you for always. As long as I’m living, my Sammy, you’ll be.”

What Sam would give to hear that one more time.

And I knew the first time I saw you with her, it was only a matter of time.

But she would never ask to hear it. Tara was who she was, and she did her best not to look back. Not because of her childhood, of all those beautiful times she and Sam shared together, but because of the grief, pain, and trauma that had come in between then and now. It was a brick wall, a storm window, a tangle of strings that shaped her into who she was today. 

Sam knew that, just like she knew moving on and giving her heart to someone new was all a part of Tara living and enjoying her life. 

She had to accept it. 

Tara wasn’t gone. She hadn’t left. She had simply grown up. They still had a ton of time to spend with each other and just be sisters. They loved each other like no other half-siblings could ever love each other. 

They were Samantha and Tara Carpenter. The Carpenter Sisters.

And for a while, they had forever in their hands. That’s why it was so hard for one to understand…

That the one thing that was the best thing she could ever do for her baby sister was the exact thing she was the most scared of.

She had to let her go.

Someday, you might know what I’m going through… 

“Can I see her?” Sam asked her mother, barely unable to keep her excitement in finally becoming a true big sister to herself. 

She had only been 5 years old at the time, not knowing just how close she and her new baby sister would come to be. Not knowing how crazy and reckless their lives would become. Not knowing how putting their lives on the line for each other 20 years later would come to be of the same little girls that once thought monsters in the closet, thunderstorms, and the first day of school were the most terrifying things in the world.

“Mm-hmm,” Christina nodded as her husband picked up her oldest daughter and placed her on the edge of the hospital bed.

Sam saw her mother cradling the smallest human being she had ever seen in her arms as she leaned over to get a better view. And then next thing she knew, she was staring at the face of her new baby sister. 

And her whole world stopped.

When a miracle smiles up at you…

“Samantha, meet your baby sister. Tara Carpenter.”

I loved her first.

i did not expect to write this so quickly, i literally couldn't stop typing (except for the times when i started crying and had to retreat where my mom wouldn't notice lol)

this was one of the hardest things i've ever written. if you didn't cry, your heart must be made of stone, because i'm lowkey a wreck after finishing this (unless the carpenter sisters' relationship doesn't hold any power on you, then you're not heartless, just vibin).

All my best ♡ - parker

[daughterofthesea111]

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[lil-melody-moon]

Hello Miss Moon😌

Here’s a special delivery for you, I hope you like it 😌

Bonus pic of Keith choking Pete because I find it hilarious😂

This is all I’m gonna give you for today cause I’m preparing a little something for tomorrow…👀

Laura

Laura, right after I've finished watching documentary about The Who and cried?

Laura 🥹

I am gonna cry for the second time because of him today, I swear to God

I love all of the pics, very nostalgic towards the third one. He's so fucking happy in it, first photo that made me squeal because of him, save the photo, send it to my bestie and scream to her about him 🥹

Got some older Keith there as well 🥹

God I can't function when I see him on my period 🥹

I wanna love him, jfc

*recalls the idea of sleeping with him, me telling him that he'll always find place in it, if he needs it* I am gonna cry, fuck 😭

Keith attacking Pete on stage is always a hilarious sight 😂

What are you preparing the- Does it have any connection with the pic of my dear uncle you've send me today? 👀

[fisheito]

Imagine you have to set up yakumo's enclosure for the next couple months. How do you set it up and what do you put in there?

oh NO.! THE PROPPHECY HAS BEenm FUFILLED

i am standing in my room, leggies rooted to the floor. i am in shock .frozen and i have no idea how to proceed. there is a perpetual pathetically sobbing serpent under my blankie.

[leslieseveride]

guys.... WE'RE GETTING A CHENFORD CHRISTMAS THIS YEAR!!!!!!

[jo-harrington]

When you find a really moving post in the tags and then you go to hit the reblog button and it's tagged CHATGPT.

What the fuck do you mean?

Everyone needs to get the fuck away from me right now.

[hannyoontify]

deleting instagram and twitter for the next two days bc i REFUSE to see anyone happy at the follow to seoul concert. THAT SHOULD'VE BEEN ME.

[subtle-as-an-earthquake]

i miss them so much

[sherlock-is-ace]

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