youre nothing now

2

Small gems like her are as easy to lose as a cell phone, but instead of just getting a new one from the store you have to snatch it out of the air, lock it in your bathroom, and re-indoctrinate its entire system of beliefs

  • *221B*
  • Sherlock: *sitting in his chair; hands clasped* I have to tell you something.
  • Rosamund: *sitting in her dad's old chair; eating a cookie* Yeah?
  • Sherlock: *awkward* Um, well, for a while, I've been...on my own here.
  • Rosamund: *nods* I know. That's okay, Uncle Sherlock.
  • Sherlock: *smiles* I know. It's okay if that changes, too *pauses* would you be okay if that changes?
  • Rosamund: *confused* Changes how?
  • Sherlock: *clears his throat* I've asked someone to live with me. Someone very special, very close to me *affectionate* someone I love *smiles* and they've accepted.
  • Rosamund: *grins* Is it Aunt Molly?
  • Sherlock: *frowns* How do you know that?
  • Rosamund: *giggles* Oh, Uncle Sherlock...you didn't think that was a SECRET, did you?
  • Sherlock: ...

Unpopular opinion: 2016 was actually an incredible year to me, so many cool things happened!! I’ve become independent, I learned and experienced tons of things, I’ve overcome my problems and finally I achieved what I’ve wanted for so long: I am truly happy with who I am as a person! I learned how to be happy and how to stay happy, I learned what’s important and to what extent. I realised that everything is a choice and there are literally no limits!! I finally see that every minute spent on whining and crying under a blanket is a wasted minute!! There’s literally no point in being stuck in one place, life moves forward and so should I!! Every failure is a test of persistence and determination, the key is to never stop looking for solutions!!

tl;dr Bring it on 2017, I’m ready

~

6

“Come on, Sam - I’ve never lied to you. You could at least pay me the same respect!” 

Lavender ✽

Do you guys think Joyce will tell Lonnie about Will coming back? I personally would love if she does not, and someday that piece of moldy bread hears about it and goes, fuming, to her house, demanding explanation as to why she didn’t immediately tell him his son was alive and when he gets there, he sees another car parked outside

And honestly, it just happens that Hopper is there that day, can you imagine the kind of things Lonnie will think and/or say?

Can you imagine the interaction? Between not only Lonnie and Joyce, but Lonnie and Hopper, and Lonnie and the boys?

Because I can and man, if that happens somehow in season 2 I will SCREAM

No Place for a Baby

***can you write an imagine where the reader only has her sister left and then her sister dies. nothing romantic has to happen just Carl comforting her***  


You squeezed your fists tighter and felt the small flakes of dried blood crunch in the folds of your skin. You blinked for what felt like the first time that day and looked at your jeans. Your lap was almost entirely caked in old blood that had dried hours ago. The material was stiff against your thighs. You looked at a hand. A small, soft hand with smooth skin. Little chubby fingers and wrinkles at her wrist.

Her eyes were dull now. They felt as if they were staring into your soul. Your life was gone. The one thing that kept you going was dead now, and you had no idea how you were going to go on from here. Your goals now meant nothing, and survival was on the very back of your mind.

You felt a hand slip around your upper arm and tug slightly. After you hadn’t responded to it for a few seconds, a second hand gripped your other arm from behind and pulled you up to stand. Your back hurt and your knees screamed at you for sitting in the same position for so long.

You were finding it a bit hard to stand, for you haven’t moved in so long. These hands guided you up the stairs, and an arm wrapped around your shoulders to keep you upright and moving. You turned into the bathroom and looked to your right into the mirror and saw Carl. He helped you sit on the closed toilet and started the bath water. This was odd, knowing that you two have never talked to each other deeper than stupid jokes and basic conversation.

He looked at you with sad eyes and kneeled. He took his hat off and set his hands on your upper arms again. You didn’t move as they moved lower and started pulling at the bottom of your tank top. You lifted your arms as he pulled it off and left you in your bra. After that, he unlaced your shoes and took them off along with your socks.He pulled your arms to help you stand and he unbuttoned your jeans.

You watched the top of his head and watched how his curls moved along with his movements as he tugged your jeans down and you stepped out of them.

You hiccuped and tears started collecting at your lashes once again. He watched you as he pulled you toward the bath tub and helped you into it. He sat on the side of the tub and used a cup to pour a bit of water in your hair. After the water reached just under your breasts, he stopped the faucet, and you listened to the droplets of water from the piping hit the still pool.

You sobbed quietly as he rinsed your blood-dried and dirt covered body and ran his hands softly over your skin. Your head was tilted upward and your hands sat in between your crossed legs. How you hated the feeling of the warm water surrounding your body, your stuffed nose, and the sound of water moving along with the boy beside you. These were things she could no longer experience. She was gone forever. Her existence; taken in an instance, depriving her of ever falling in love, finding a hobby to be passionate about, a favorite band, or trying something new that once terrified her. You would never hear that light chuckle or see that blush on her cheeks that appeared when the weather was too hot.

You were empty. The overwhelming disappointment and sorrow that took you over was too much to handle.

***

The room was getting darker by the minute as you sat alone on the hard living room floor. Your hands sat on your folded knees nimbly and your eyes were straining to see the pattern in the short carpet’s woven design in the dimming light.

“Hungry?”

You jumped slightly at the intrusion and didn’t move. You hadn’t even heard him enter. Your mind was in fog, but a frenzy all at once. Your senses buzzed, but you still felt numb. You were within yourself looking outward at a life that hurt too much.

“At least drink some water?” He knelt across from you and held a glass in his hand.

Your eyes slowly moved from his hand he had on the floor to steady himself, up his arm, and to his face. Here you were, being the biggest burden to someone you barely knew. Not once have you ever done anything nice for Carl, and here he is. This boy that you always saw from a distance and admired for the fire in his bright blue eye after every horror he had been through.

Carl raised the glass a bit and moved it toward you as an offering.

You felt your lip quiver and you leaned forward, arms moving past the glass, and threw yourself onto him, arms wrapping around his neck and face buried. You heard the glass hit the carpet, but it did not break. You felt the water at your foot.

Carl sat for a second before moving his arms around you and leaning his head against yours. Sobs overtook you as he held you, but his warmth and the tightness of his hold was everything you needed in that moment. 


I’m back! This is the first of a few I need to finish. Sorry if this one’s a bit lousy. I need to get back into writing. Anyway, feedback is appreciated!

The ‘Fuck You’ Bouquet

Bog King had never really aspired to much in life. He was 32, owned a florist shop and lived in an apartment above his shop with his mother. It was a simple arrangement, and one he was honestly quite content with. His business did well enough, and despite his mother’s love-based meddling, he liked having her around. For Bog, life was pretty decent. Of course, just about when you decide that is when life decides to kick you in the ass.

Keep reading

3

i know it’s hard to accept compliments as anything other than lies. but when somebody blurts, “you’re beautiful,” take a breath. think of your dog, panting happily and covered in mud. think of your mother in her bathrobe with her hair in tinfoil while the dye sets. think of your best friend with her face streaked with tears and makeup. think of your little brother when he was sick and his face was a red puffy mess. think of how, even then, your heart swelled up with love of them. this is i think where compliments come from: when they look at you, no matter what, they see somebody beautiful, not some body, beautiful.

I have come to realize that I am like an old 20-dollar bill—crumpled, torn, dirty, abused, and scarred. But I am still a 20-dollar bill. I am worth something. Even though I may not look like much and even though I have been battered and used, I am still worth the full 20 dollars.
—  “You Are My Hands” -Dieter F. Uchtdorf

I’ve been sleeping with my head at the foot of my bed lately to help get me through a week of insomnia, which is whatever, you know, but it also means this is my view upon waking