small-words

2

Warning: death of family member
(gif)

The bathroom floor was cold. You were rocking back and forth slowly, your arms pulling your knees to your chest. Your body was wracked with sobs, your vision was blurry, and your head was resting against the rim of a bath tub. You felt pathetic, but more importantly, you felt sad. Actually, sad was too small of a word. There wasn’t quite a word big enough to describe just how you felt. After all, what word could you use to describe the death of your family? 

“(Y/n)? Where are ya sweetheart?” You heard Harley’s voice, and you felt a bit better, but not by much. You wanted Harley next to you, you wanted to cry into her shoulder, but you couldn’t make a noise. You felt like you couldn’t breath, and you let out another choked sob. The bathroom door opened slowly, and Harley poked her head in. She had been smiling, but as soon as she saw you, her smile dropped. She rushed to your side, dropping down next to you. “What’s wrong,” she whispered. There was a hint of disbelief in her voice, as if she couldn’t believe you were crying. You were always so strong, you never showed your emotions, and you knew that her seeing you like this had thrown her. 

You still felt like you couldn’t talk, so you just pointed to the newspaper that was there. Her face shifted, from concern to horror, as she read the headline. 

The Joker Kills Gotham Family 

You watched as her eyes brushed over the paper. When she got to the names of the victims, it all clicked. It was the (L/n) family who had gotten killed. Your family. Her beautiful eyes began to brim with tears, and she could barely look at you. You were still letting out heart-wrenching cries, and you were rocking back and forth slowly. She began to stand up, but you reached for her.

“Please,” it was hard for you to speak, it took all of your effort, but you didn’t care, “please stay with me.” She nodded slowly, her lips pursed. 

She sat on the floor next to you, murmuring reassuring thoughts into your ears. She began to pepper you with soft, small kisses. The kisses helped you feel grounded. The feeling of Harley’s lips on your skin reminded you that everything was real, and it brought you back to reality. “Don’t ever leave me,” you mumbled, resting your head on her shoulder.

“I won’t, and that’s a promise.” 

Ring

These gummy rings are as cheap
as yours or mine or his or hers
or theirs have ever been.

They’re cheaper than wilted flowers
or posies picked up off the side
of the road.

They’re cheaper than chips
but the attention’s all in the detail
and colour coding’s key –

orange meets red for you,
green meets clear for me. Our
favourite smells

are red, orange, clear and green.
I am all about water; you say I gush
out my rivers; you can smell

the sea on my tears and your tongue,
my love, is as hot as the musk drench of sweat
that you so admire and

the backhand of the sun.
That is my side of a story
with a narrative stop

or a semi-colon where
I undulate little deaths with sleep;
(tsunamis and dried out lakes)

and spell my fingers to the charm
of a name in condensation on windows.
Now I know those gummy rings

were cheap, as cheap as his
or hers or theirs or yours or mine
could ever be;

and when I close my eyes
my lids don’t squeeze shut wet
because my ring

was as cheap
as yours, and yours, as indigestible
as my words have always been.

pillowtalk

A Sherlock called AU in which Jim and Sherlock are fuck buddies and Sherlock calls out Jim’s name during sex.

“However, you still owe me something. It’s the least you can do.”

Sherlock’s mind wander off. He thinks about bringing Jim on cases, dark big eyes shining with admiration and lips curled in a smile that almost look too innocent to be real; he think about playing domestic boyfriends with him and snuggling on the couch, small kisses and soft words and it creates an itch under his skin that he can’t scratch. He thinks about introducing Jim to John and he twists his mouth in a grimace because it just can’t happen, because he would rather have a gun pointed to his head – now, that’s fun – because…

“Tell me about Moriarty.”          

AO3 link, please leave a kudos/comment if you enjoed and/or like/reblog this post!

Poem with Death
External image

Her presence spoke to me,

as if she scribbled a poem on my soul.

The words written there

could make the largest feel small

it was these words written there

I wasn’t aware of the pain that could be felt

those souls lost in the deep

I felt myself go weak

as I read what was written

my first tears came to my eyes

I then knew the meaning of life

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Here’s a reminder for Writer’s Appreciation Day: appreciate yourself.

Appreciate the hard work you put into your craft. Appreciate what you’re capable of and what you strive to achieve. Appreciate the various gifts you’ve given to whatever fandom you’re in, even if you’re alone or one writer among hundreds. Appreciate what you’ve done and what you’ll do in the future, your successes and failures. Every accomplishment is great.

Appreciate yourself at your best, at your worst, and at your most meh. Appreciate yourself on the days when you can write 5k words and the days when you can barely write five. Appreciate yourself when the words are small, when you’re uninspired, and when trying your best still leaves you feeling like you’ve done nothing. Appreciate yourself when you love everything you write. You’re deserving of every ounce of self-love you can give yourself.

Every day, you’re a writer. Even when you’re not writing, you’re a writer. Appreciate that.

Small words - nú, svá, ok, er

Þórr svarar engu, setr hornit á munn sér ok hyggr , at hann skal drekka meira drykk, ok þreytir á drykkjuna, sem honum vannst til örendi, ok enn sér hann, at stikillinn hornsins vill ekki upp svá mjök sem honum líkar. Ok er hann tók hornið af munni sér ok sér í, lízt honum nú svá sem minna hafi þorrit men í inu fyrra sinni. Er gott beranda borð á horninu.

 nú - now

svá - so, such

ok - and, but (now modern Íslenska and Norsk ‘og’)

at - which, that

er - which, with regards to, who, when, until, that (also very important - a form of 'to be’)

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when is taehyung gonna come hold my hand and tell me i’m cute? 😊