#leavinghope

[misskasy]

#fragile #leavinghope #photooftheday #analog

[hollowbon3s]

fuxxinsomnia replied to your post “can anybody with demonias tell me how the sizing runs?? i’ve heard...”

go adjustable buckles or lace for sure, they tend to be a bit wide

leavinghope replied to your post “can anybody with demonias tell me how the sizing runs?? i’ve heard...”

I would recommend getting demonias that lace up or have adjustable buckles along the calves bc the standard fit is way too wide for me and my legs are a lil chunky

this is SUPER helpful thx y’all!! i have really wide calves, usually gotta shop specific wide leg boots, so i figured even if they run normal i should go for boots with laces so they have a little give. but it’s good to know they run wide!!!

[another-adoring-fan]

Through Closed Doors

Through Closed Doors (5978 words) by leavinghope

Sally scrutinized one of the images. “Is Sherlock drooling?”

Greg chuckled. “Probably. Both of them were drunk off their arses. Never seen either one of them so bad off.” He hesitated. “Well, not since…”

Sally knew Greg was thinking back to the times he found John buried in a bottle during Sherlock’s years away. But this bout of drinking was undoubtedly something more innocuous in nature.

“Stag night?”

“Yeah,” said Greg.

Sally caved in to her curiosity. “Don’t take this the wrong way, boss, but you weren’t invited?”

Greg shrugged his shoulders and smiled. “Sherlock wanted it to just be the two of them. He had something special planned.” He paused for effect. “A bar crawl on streets where they had found corpses.”

Sally thought for a few moments before responding. “I don’t know what this says about me, but that’s so romantic.”

Greg’s smile dimmed as he said, “Well, that’s Sherlock.”

“So what happened? Did they get thrown out of a bar?”

“No, the two idiots went on a case.”

Sally’s jaw dropped. “Seriously?”

“Yes, and a landlord didn’t take too kindly to Sherlock vomiting all over his floor. Tried to throw Sherlock out.”

Sally stared. “He didn’t make the mistake of touching Sherlock, did he?”

“And now you know why John is in the cell, too.”

Both detectives burst into laughter.

“So what did John’s fiancée say when you told her?”

Greg rubbed the back of his neck with his hand and said, “Mary hasn’t returned my calls.”

“What?”

“I’m surprised, too. I called and left messages, plus I’ve texted her a few times. Never responded.”

“That’s strange. If I was marrying either one of those two and they were on their stag night, I’d be expecting a call from you.”

“Perhaps that’s why she isn’t answering.”

Sally shook her head. She had instantly disliked Mary, for some reasons clear to her and others not so much. Sally trusted her instincts, and they told her Mary was untrustworthy. But Sally figured that just meant that Mary was more than capable of lying and manipulating, not that she was a legitimate threat. She wondered why she got such a bad gut reaction from Mary not picking up her phone.

[edajnothing]

I truly believe I’ve had the worst day in 2 years. Years seem to always fall apart and build back up. Years are always there. Forever will be. When I die, when you become nothing but fading glimpses, when our pictures and motions are only captured in loved ones and our friends’ memories, years and life will always be there. It’s always so fucking stupid to say out loud to yourself “This is the worst moment.” No it isn’t. It’s a second in your life and then we dwell in this red/blackened haze of worry and doubt. We bathe in it to almost validate our very need to survive. It’s shallow. Of course we need to cry and scream and to fight off whatever stands as our obstacle, but there’s always hope. So to kind of quote a very important (to me at least) section of a book, “I can’t say I’m happy where I am right now, but I cannot wait to see where it’s going.”