i don't see why i won't take her in a blink of an eye

When You're Sick 🤒🤢
  • Sister: I'm sick.
  • Brother: What're the symptoms?
  • Sister: Sweaty palms, and achey knees. Sometimes when I close my eyes and don't think about anything, I can feel my heart beating really hard. Harder than usual. Ba-bump. Ba-bump. There is something seriously wrong with me.
  • Brother: Alright, I'm googling your symptoms. Hmm... Web MD says you're in love.
  • Sister: Love?
  • Brother: I guess so, if that's what Web MD says it must be true.
  • Sister: I have never been in love with someone before, not romantically, at least. I don't think I am in love.
  • Brother: How would you know if you've never been in love before? You don't know how it feels.
  • Sister: That is logical. I guess, I don't know. If this is love, then it is underwhelming.
  • Brother: Most things in life are underwhelming.
  • Sister: That is true.
  • Brother: Wanna get high?
  • Sister: It won't mean anything, but sure.
  • *later*
  • Brother: *blazed to fuck staring at the wall*
  • Sister: You know, I wish I could understand how you feel now. No matter how high I get, I always feel the same. Everything feels the same to me. I have never told anyone this but I don't think I have ever felt happy, or sad, or angry. I just always feel the same. Neutral.
  • Brother: *blinks*
  • Sister: Remember that old friend I used to hang out with? The one I would always bring over and she would do my hair and other things that friends do. She stopped being friends with me. She actually told me she loved me - this was way before we stopped being friends - and I told her I did not feel the same way, but I still valued her friendship. I did not actually value her friendship. I did not think much about her at all. I just said that because I thought I should. I remember the last day I spoke to her, we were out at the lake just sitting and watching it. It was frozen over and so gray and lifeless. It looked like it went on forever. It was so quiet too and I could just close my eyes and take in the absolute silence of it all. I wanted to lay back and let the atmosphere take me. I could have frozen to death for all I cared. I just wanted to be lost in that gray moment forever. She just got up and left. I sat there looking at the lake. I have not talked to her since.
  • Brother: *blinks*
  • Sister: Do you think she got up and left because I did not care about her? Because I have been reevaluating my position on my relationship with her and the nature of my life in general. Those symptoms I described to you earlier were symptoms that I did not feel until the moment that she ran across my mind whilst I was organizing my possessions. I like to organize my possessions, disorganize them, and then reorganize them because it keeps my mind from slipping into the gray - like the gray lake I described to you before. I feel as if I will stay there forever if I slip into it too much, though the thought of that is rather comforting, if I am to be honest with you. But, when she ran across my mind, I got sweaty palms which immediately threw my organizing into disarray. It felt unsatisfying. Remember when I told you that I feel basically the same no matter how high I get, I do not think that is true. Remember how I told you I have never felt. I do not think that is true either. Brother, I think I do feel, but I think something is taking away my precious life moments regardless of if they are good or bad. Brother?
  • Brother: *gone*
  • Sister: Tch, it got you too.
  • *later, elsewhere*
  • Social Worker: So you're saying things have been getting worse?
  • Sister: Exactly, please listen to me. I am about to lose my apartment as my brother was the only one capable of paying the rent. I believe I am about to lose many more things. It is good that you contacted me, as I will now be able to explain my position. Since I was born, everything and everyone of importance has simply walked out of my life or disappeared. My emotions left me at birth, my parents left me and my brother shortly afterwords, then went our inheritance, then my job, my friends, and now my brother. I am of the belief that something has been taking them away from me. I believe it may be some force that is paranormal in nature. For what reason such a force would have interest in me is beyond my understanding, but forces like this usually are not ones to be understood.
  • Social Worker: That sounds nuts. I think your problem is that you lack ambition.
  • Sister: I do lack ambition. There is no doubt that I do. I will never deny my lack of ambition, however my ambition has been taken from as well. Soon my apartment will be taken from me and the last true thing that keeps me bound this world, the organizing of my possessions, will be lost to me. What should I do, social worker?
  • Social Worker: I don't know. I'm not your keeper.
  • Sister: Social worker, may I remind you that you are the one who called me to your office and that I would rather have let myself sink into the boundless gray. I am giving this world one last chance, and I would think you would have called me here for some reason. Or would you rather waste my time?
  • Social Worker: *gone*
  • Sister: Ah, so you too have been taken. Right before my eyes. *looks at the ceiling* How much are you willing to take from me and for what reason, I wonder?
  • Spindly hand: *reaches from nowhere and removes the door from the wall leaving a blank space where it once was*
  • Sister: ...Ah.
  • Spindly hand: *reaches from nowhere and removes the window from the wall leaving a blank space where it once was*
  • Sister: I see.
  • Spindly hand: *drags the social worker's desk away, and the chairs, leaving the sister in an empty box of a room from which she can't escape*
  • Sister: I see. I see. You want to leave me with no choice but to give myself to the gray. Are you the gray embodied, or just a messenger of its will? Will you answer me at all, or is my search for reason in this nonsense futile. Why am I even asking? You're not listening to me. You are nonsense like all the emotions and people and things in this world. All those things that leave you when you are not perfect and you can't understand them, so they don't even bother trying to understand you. I am nonsense too because I was born when something like you exists just to slowly take away anything that ever could have meant something to me. *sits against the wall and closes her eyes*
  • *a frozen lake, seemingly endless, sprawls in front of her*
  • Sister: This is where I belong. It's like a dream, an empty miserable dream. It makes me feel like nothing. And maybe I am nothing. *blows away like dust*
  • *221B*
  • Baby Holmes: *folding her arms; grumpy* Why do Mummy and Daddy have to have another baby?
  • Mycroft: *bored* Contraceptives aren't in their vocabulary.
  • Baby Holmes: *pouts* Why couldn't I go to the Hospital?
  • Mycroft: *raises an eyebrow* Because that's not the first memory you want of your little brother *shudders* Believe me.
  • Baby Holmes: *frowns* I hate him.
  • Mycroft: *dismissive* It won't last.
  • Baby Holmes: *confused* Whyyyy?
  • Mycroft: *rolls his eyes* Oh, I don't know. You'll notice he's dropped his favourite toy and tuck it next to him even though he's fast asleep. You'll be playing in the park, warning him not to touch the bees and then kissing his sting better. You'll never get to be Captain of the pirate ship, I'm afraid, but that doesn't matter *waves a hand* Walking the plank is just as fun.
  • Baby Holmes: ...
  • Baby Holmes: *blinks* Really?
  • Mycroft: *smiles* Yes.
  • Baby Holmes: *whines* What if he steals my stuff?
  • Mycroft: *chuckles* He'll bring you dead things, most likely. Anyway, it's worth it to see him trying to walk around in your massive shoes, tripping over the dog if not his own feet.
  • Baby Holmes: *confused* But we don't have a dog.
  • Mycroft: *quickly* No.
  • Baby Holmes: *kicks her legs* Uncle Mycroft?
  • Mycroft: Mmmm?
  • Baby Holmes: *scratches her head* Where do babies even come from?
  • Mycroft: *sighs* I have no idea. Ask your father. Don't take no for an answer.
  • Baby Holmes: *grins* Okay, Uncle Mycroft.
  • *meanwhile, at the Hospital*
  • Molly: *exhausted* So, Hamish Mycroft William? Or William John Siger?
  • Sherlock: *holding his son, smiling* The first one.
Like I Can

I think maybe I took a different direction to what you wanted… but heyoo. SFW, NSFF.

Enjoy x

Like I Can

He could be a sinner, or a gentleman.
He could be a preacher when your soul is damned.
He could be a lawyer on a witness stand.
But he’ll never love you like I can, can.

Things have been different since that night.

Well, of course things were different. How could they not be? Things can’t stay exactly the same after something like that. You can cover up the truth like filling in a hole you’ve dug, but there’s no doubting that things have been altered, that the dirt has been disturbed.


Keep reading

Preference- You Die & Leave Him with your Child/ren
  • You Die & Leave Him Alone with Your Child
  • Niall: "Darlin', please," he pleaded with the tiny baby on his chest, her cries being the only sound in the big, empty house. "I don't-- I don't know what's wrong." He tried rocking her, but her cries only seemed to intensify, her wide blue eyes that were just like Niall's blinking up at her dad, a pitiful expression on her face. Niall felt his heart break at the thought of his daughter hurting, and he felt like he was failing her as a father. For the thousandth time, Niall wished that that drunk driver hadn't taken your life, that you were still here to help him, because you always seemed to know exactly what to do. But you weren't, you had died two weeks ago, and Niall was trying to be strong for his daughter, he really was, but at this moment, he finally broke, a loud sob leaving his throat as he clutched his crying girl to his chest. He snatched up his phone from the changing table, and not knowing what else to do at this point, rung up his mum. "Niall? What's wrong, it's--" Maura starts, but Niall quickly cuts her off. "Mum, I don't know what to do anymore. She won't stop crying, I've tried everything. I changed her, rocked her, I fed her not too long ago, but she's still cryin'. What if she's hurt, too, I can't lose both of them, mum, I can't." Niall had frustrated tears of his own now as he waited for his mum to answer. "Niall, calm down, love... Did you burp her after you fed her? She might just have a little bit of gas." Niall's quiet for a few minutes as he gently pats his daughter's back, and soon enough, a tiny belch leaves her mouth and she's settling down to sleep. "God, mum, I'm a terrible father. If (Y/N) was here she would've known to burp her. But she's not, I'm alone, and my daughter doesn't deserve this, she deserves--" "What, Niall? What does she deserve? To be alone in a foster home? Niall, you're all she has now, and you are doing a great job for her, she loves you to death. I know it's hard without (Y/N) there, but you have to keep being strong for your daughter. You know that's what she would've wanted." Niall swallows the thick lump in his throat, his eyes locked on the tiny baby cuddled into his chest. "You're right, mum. Thanks."
  • Harry: "Hey, Harry. How are you?" Gemma asks as she steps through the door into Harry's house. It had been one month since cancer had taken you from Harry, leaving him as a single dad with a four year old daughter. Harry sighs, running his hand through his hair when he glances at his daughter coloring in the kitchen. "It's been-- it's been hard, Gem. Really hard. God, I miss her." Gemma opens her mouth to say something, but is cut off by the pitter-patter of little feet running up to them. "Aunty Gem, Aunty Gem!" The little girl squeals, jumping up and down in front of Gemma as she clutches a piece of paper in her hand. Gemma squats down to her height, smiling at her niece. "What've you got there, Darcy?" "It's a picture for Mummy! I'm gonna give it to her when she comes back from the hospital." Gemma's mouth falls open, and Harry freezes above them, avoiding his sister's gaze. "Darc', can you go watch cartoons for bit while I talk to your dad really quick?" Gem asks, and the little girl nods, running from the room while Gemma stands up, staring at her younger brother. "Harry... You haven't told Darcy that (Y/N)...?" Harry sighs, running his fingers through his hair. "Gem... I can't. How am I supposed to go in there, and tell my four year old daughter that her mummy's... That her mummy's not coming home?" His voice cracks, and Gemma pulls him into a hug, lightly rubbing his back. "Harry... I know it's hard. (Y/N) was my sister-in-law, I miss her, too. But it's not fair to that little girl what you're doing. You have to tell her. Tell her in words she'll understand, but she needs to know." Harry pulls away, wiping his eyes as he nods and looks over at his daughter in the next room. Gemma gives his arm an encouraging squeeze, and he takes a deep breath before joining the little girl in the next room, sitting down and pulling her into his lap, finally explaining to her that you are in a better place.
  • Liam: Liam squeezed his pillow tightly in his sleep, trying to pretend it was you. The bed had been cold, too cold, and empty for two weeks now, ever since the car accident that killed you. His eyes were squeezed shut as he dreamed of you, but suddenly they pop open at the sound of quiet cries coming from the room next to his; his daughter's room. He throws the bed covers back, rubbing the heels of his hands into his eyes to try to wake up. He opens the door quietly, his heart breaking at the sight. His six year old daughter is cuddled up in bed, her teddy bear clutched to her chest as she cried. Liam crouches down to her level, gently running his hand through her long hair. "Angel, what's wrong?" He whispers, and before he knows it the little girl is throwing herself at Liam, her arms going tightly around his neck. "Daddy, I miss mummy. I can't sleep without her good night kisses." Liam's heart breaks at this, and he has to squeeze his eyes shut to stop his own tears from falling. "I know, baby, I miss mummy too. How about you come have a cuddle with daddy in my bed?" After feeling the little girl nod against his neck, he gently stands up, walking the two of them to his bedroom. He tucks his daughter in first, and then slides under the covers himself, pulling the small body back into him. "Daddy loves you, you know that?" He whispers into her hair, smiling contentedly when he feels your presence watching over them.
  • Zayn: "We are very, very sorry sir, but (Y/N) didn't make it through surgery." Zayn freezes, his hand clutching the phone tightly. "You're lying," he says in a low voice, the hand not gripping the phone beginning to tremble. "You said this operation would make her better. You said it was very low-risk." "Sir," the lady on the other end sighed. "Something went wrong, and the doctor's did everything they could to save her." Zayn fell to his knees, the phone slipping out of his hand and shattering on the hard floor but Zayn barely noticed. Tears blurred his vision as the words repeated themselves in his head. A loud yell left his throat as he pounded his fists on the wall, wanting to know why you had to be taken from him. "Daddy?" A small voice said, and Zayn snapped his head up to see his three year old son at the doorway. He was clutching his blanket, blinking sleepily as he was supposed to be napping, and it kinda broke Zayn's heart that he was without a mother now. "I heard loud noises and I got scared..." Zayn sobbed again, scooping the little boy into his arms. Zayn tried to stop crying, he really did, but he just couldn't, when all he could think about was that this little boy in his arms was motherless now. "Daddy, why are you crying? You're not supposed to cry, you're Superman!" Zayn chuckled a little at his son's words, pulling back to kiss his son's forehead and wipe his eyes. "I know, mate, but daddy's has something to tell you... Mummy's not coming home. Mummy went-- went to heaven and she--" Zayn squeezed his eyes shut as more tears fell, and he was surprised at the feel of little hands wiping them away. He opened them to see his son watching him, his eyebrows furrowed. "But I'm still here, daddy. Don't be sad, mummy doesn't like it when you're sad. She told me that seeing you cry makes her cry, and I don't want mummy to be crying." Zayn shook his head, pulling his son in for a tight hug as he finally felt himself being pulled back together, felt himself growing strong again for the little boy in his arms.
  • Louis: "William, eat your fruit," Louis pleaded with his seven year old son, trying not to get angry and yell. Over a year had passed since you died, and Louis was doing the best he could being the single parent of a seven year old boy and eighteenth month old daughter. He thought he was doing a decent job, juggling work with parenting, and he knew he had his family to support him, too. He still missed you terribly, didn't think there was a day that went by without him thinking of you, but he knew he had to be strong for his kids. Today, though, he was exhausted, the heavy bags under his eyes the result of being up all night with little Anna. He was growing frustrated with William, because he really needed him to sit down and eat his breakfast so Louis could get him to school on time. William refused, sitting stubbornly in his chair with his mouth clamped shut. Louis groaned, rubbing his eyes tiredly before scolding his son a few more times, to which the little boy replied with "I don't like it" or "I'm not hungry", and eventually Louis hit his limit. "That's it! If you don't eat your food, you won't be going to football this weekend!" William jumped from his chair, his little face scrunched up in anger as he yelled, "I hate you! I wish mummy was here instead of you!" Louis was shocked (and a little hurt) as he watched his son run to his room, and it took him a few minutes to get himself to follow William to his room. He quietly opened the door, revealing his son curled up on the bed and sniffling to himself. "Buddy, what's wrong?" Louis asked gently, sitting down next to him, "You don't really hate daddy do you?" "No," Will mumbled, peeking up at Louis. "'M sorry, dad, I love you." Louis felt relief rush through him as he picked up his son, setting him in his lap so they were facing each other. "Then why did you say that? Tell what's wrong." William sniffled, a tear rolling down his cheek. "Today is the Mummy's Picnic at school, and I'm going to be the only kid without a mummy." Louis' heart broke at this, and it took all he had not to burst into tears himself. He took a deep breath before pulling his son into a hug, placing a kiss on his forehead. "I'm sorry you don't have a mummy, buddy, I really am. Listen, how about you stay home with Dad and Sis today and we can have our own picnic?"