The Way Toph Sees ItThe Way Toph Sees ItThe Way Toph Sees It6 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
"I don't get why everyone was so mad.
"I mean, they argue all the time. And not mean arguing, either. It's that 'Pay Attention to Me!' kind of arguing, the kind that sounds more like teasing. You know, what's the word? FLIRTATIOUS!! That's the one. They were always so flirtatious.
"And, it's not like I had the visual clues anyone else would have. I don't know nothing about eye color, or hair color, or skin tone, or facial structure, or any of that junk. Well, I guess I would know about faces, but I wasn't about to be asking to put my hands all over their mugs when we had just met. It's not polite, you know? So all that evidence went out the door.
"And, I mean, I didn't get out much. I didn't know what lovers acted like, or what siblings acted like, because honestly I'd never had friends, never mind boyfriends, and unless my parents were really good at keeping secrets, I didn't have any brothers or sisters. So, cut me a little slack, right?
"Anyway, if things
The CoatThe old staircase creaked under the weight of heavy footsteps. He ascended them slowly, mountains seeming smaller; the spare room was a long way from the liquor cabinet. In one hand he carried a bottle for the journey. His other clenched tight into the damp tan coat, knuckles white as if the body it belonged to still rested beneath its folds. The sounds of Sam sleeping far below vanished as he pulled the door shut quietly behind him. He leant against it head rolling back to lie on it's wooden surface. Through the lashes of his half closed eyes he watched the bed in the middle of the room. He wondered how long it'd been since he'd slept.The Coat4 years ago in Drama More Like This
Hours muddled into each other and events were mismatched in his mind. Before long he gave up trying to order them and pushed away from the entrance. His body dragged him to the edge of the bed. The blankets looked soft and inviting. He raised the coat into his line of vision.
You bastard don't go
The creases of fabric held traces
Anger ManagementAs always, he was in a state of concentration. His fingers were pressed together in a steeple, and his violin lay neatly across his lap, its presence ignored for the time being. His grey-blue eyes were closed and his mouth was a single, apathetic line that conveyed how deeply lost he was in this trance-like moment of calm and contemplation. The flat was completely silent- the television was off, the laptop unplugged and shut down, and there wasn't even a tinkling of porcelain cups and plates. Mrs. Hudson was more of a housekeeper than she would like to admit, cleaning up the boy's dirty laundry and ever-growing pile of washing up whenever it became too unruly to bear, but even she wasn't in at that moment in time- doing her grocery shopping or something somewhere in the city. For once, 221B Baker Street was radiating nothing but a complete sense of tranquillity.Anger Management5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Of course, that was destined to never last long from the very beginning.
He didn't flinch when the door slammed shut,
The Hero's ReturnThe hero will always come home.The Hero's Return4 years ago in Drama More Like This
It was a standard rule, wasn't it? In all the fantasy stories he had read as a kid, the hero always survived. There would be the moment when the crowd held their breath or mourned their lossbut then the hero would come up from behind the hill, bruised, but otherwise fine. And everyone would cheer and celebrate the return of their champion.
Leonard McCoy was no hero.
He knew that for him there would be no sudden twist, no big turnaround when he was injured. When he lost, he would lose. There would be no need for his friends to wait for him. He would die and that was it. He just wasn't a hero.
It wasn't really self-deprecationsomething his therapist accused him of doingbecause it was true. He was a doctor, not a champion, not a savior. When there was no hope left, he wouldn't get any kind of deus ex machina. He would die. No surprise return. Nothing. He wasn't that kind of man.
But Jim Kirk was a hero.
He was brave, charisma
Father SpokeFather Spoke7 years ago in Spiritual & Occult More Like This
There was a dead dove in the middle of the table.
"Don't look back," the old woman whispered, hunched in layers of shawls, her hair tangled, beaded strands lank around a sagging, dusky complexion - more dirt than melanin. "Keep your eyes on the candle."
Diana Katerina Adella, Caucasian wise-woman born in the underbelly of Washington, bowed her head, clothing heaving, breaths uneven.
"The trance has her - "
Melly R. Johnson, single mother of two toddlers and raised with a healthy respect for the other, watched the candle and the wise-woman across from her with wide, watering eyes.
I swallowed, the thick scent of incense coating my tongue and the roof of my mouth with a cloying coat. Did the woman even know that none of her names were ethnic? Did Melly?
It didn't matter to Melly; she knew what she wanted and if this put the engagement ring on her finger, I was going to go through it. Didn't mean I had to look at the damn candle.
The pale paisley tablecloth stirred, air shifting in
Dear Diary, Love Kurt.Dear diary,Dear Diary, Love Kurt.5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
I need somewhere to vent out my frustration. I need something to spill out my true feelings. I need something that won't judge me, no matter what. I don't know anyone like that. I guess this is my last resort.
I hate love hate love love? hate? Finn Hudson. I don't know. I really don't.
But it will always be Kurt, sitting there, on the sidelines, alone, watching as the most cliche couple in the world takes the stage, again. If there was a trophy for that, they could have it. They won all the awards. She would like that, wouldn't she? It's shiny and has her name on it.
Someone should remind me to make one out of tin foil. Give it to her.
Rachel Berry shall forever be known as the girl who murdered my dreams.
This is madness. I can't take it anymore. they're so wrong for each other, yet so right. And it's killing me.
Because that should be me he's holding.
Do I sound like a jealous bitch from one of those TV shows about high school? I reall
71. The True YouI saw a girl today.71. The True You5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
She didn't look too happy,
so I told her "Hello," and smiled widely at her.
She nodded, her expressionless eyes staring at me.
Her emotion didn't change,
but that is because you cannot change what is not there.
I asked the poker-faced girl who she is.
She shook her head.
I asked her if she knew how to talk.
I asked her if she wanted to talk.
She shook her head again.
I held out my hand.
She mimicked me.
I gently grabbed the girl's hand.
It was cold and almost lifeless, just like her eyes.
I asked the girl her name.
She had the same name as me.
We walked through the park, me asking questions and her not answering any of them.
Not with words.
She spoke instead with nods, shakes of the head, and gentle hand squeezes.
I didn't get to know her very well.
She whispered "Good bye" all of a sudden, leaving me to assume that she was going to leave.
I nodded and tried to let go of her hand.
But our hands were stuck together,
She was holding on tight
I looked up at
Passionate EmbersThe Mirror Universe.Passionate Embers5 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
A world where the crews, ships, and races therein are the polar moral opposites of the orignals in the prime world.
Leonard Mccoy finds himself backing up against a wall in their own Sick Bay.
But this Mccoy isn't the one native to this world.
Hours ago, an ion storm managed to switch most of the senior crewmen of the U.S.S. Enterprise, of the ship he knows, with those of the I.S.S. Enterprise, the ones native to this savage world.
Here, everybody's fighting for advancement, killing each other left and right and conquering other races and planets with brutality and horror.
Even his counterpart, this world's Leonard Mccoy, had torture devices, rather than surgical tools in his office.
Now, his Kirk and their landing party may be able to return to their own universe.
But if Mccoy's stalled any longer, he'll be stranded here, on a world in which he knows nothing.
And his evil twin will be loose in his world.
But, he had to stay behind.
He had to help this universe's S
Tulio and Miguel Drabble 4"Looks like it's crumbs for dinner again, Miguel."Tulio and Miguel Drabble 44 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
The little ten-year old frowned as his friend looked away with an angry frown. They were close to stealing a loaf of bread, just enough for the both of them. Unfortunately, one of the guards caught them and they had to run away before they caught them.
"That's alright, Tulio. We tried our best!" Miguel said, trying to cheer Tulio up. Tulio instead gave him an annoyed stare and sat on the window sill of their little hide-out, looking out the broken window. The orphans lived in an abandoned shack that they luckily found.
Miguel lightly pouted and sat on the hard ground. He rubbed his arms, lightly shivering. "Hey, Tulio?"
"What?" Tulio snapped.
" I'm cold." Miguel said.
Tulio turned back to his smaller and skinny friend. He sighed and hopped off the window sill, grabbing the old and tattered blanket. He laid down next to Miguel, throwing the blanket over them. Miguel smiled and snuggled close to Tulio. He lightly blushed but looked
A Love Poem For Mr. SpockA Love Poem For. Mr. SpockA Love Poem For Mr. Spock5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Passing glances in the corridor
I sense your intense energy,
Man from another world.
Make me a sammich.
A doctor's gotta eat.
Pavithe Prince comes in wearing hisPavi7 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
latest lovers face on his
own like a crown
with a smile that wins over
for who can resist the
impeccable charm and the beauty
of sheer love incarnate?
blowing kisses and wooing anyone available, the
Rapists crawl on the dank walls, clawing
at the exposed mountains of flesh, ripping
through layer after layer of
thick veiny pulp
to stare into cold manipulative eyes,
an incurable hunger fueled by a power to
obtain the necessary, the fuckers will bleed,
and the Prince will
kiss the adoring young women, eye the men
by the wall, and move as a smooth liquid, glide
to seduce the wanting and the willing and
to find and
ones left unwanting, to force them a kiss
through two sets of lips, to
give what they fear,
to get what he needs.
Just Spock Shoreleave found Jim lying stretched across a couch since when did he have a chance to see one in space? and Spock was able to walk in on a scene he hardly thought the young captain would let anyone see, let alone him. Spock, whom he'd fallen for but had, until recently, not been on mutually good terms with.Just Spock5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
What should have felt like walking into a trap didn't. He knelt on the floor and simply watched Jim, made mental observations on the relaxed face and slack form. There was no movement when the Vulcan with great hesitation extended one long, pale index finger to stroke down the bridge of the sleeper's nose. Jim cuddled in on himself before uncoiling in length again.
He wanted to lie beside him, but didn't know how. How to initiate such closeness, and on what ground, and how Jim might interpret such closeness
Finally, on deciding, he scooched the torso and middle of the human to the front of the cushion
Accidental AttemptI held my head in my hands fisting my fingers into my hair. I jerked on the handfuls of my own hair wincing at the pain and loosening my grip only to jerk again. I freed my fingers from the dark tangle of my hair as the pain faded again and I reached over flipping my CD player on and listening as my favorite song started playing. I stared, not seeing anything instead imagining the words as a video in my minds eye.Accidental Attempt7 years ago in Philosophy & Perspectives More Like This
I rested my elbows on my knees, letting my eyes trace dully along the criss-cross of scars marring both of my wrist, less on my right wrist since I wasnt as sure of my left hand. I hid them with black fingerless gloves most of the time, but today was too hot to wear the gloves and it was Saturday; I could stay at home all day or go out into the woods behind my house. There was no one to see me either place, no one to ask question or scold me for hurting myself. No one understood that it was the only way I could let myself feel anything. The only way I could get pa
Friendship First.Pointless disclaimer. I do not own Ghost Hunters. trust me, if I did...Iw ould be in every episode.Friendship First.8 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Ghost Hunters Fan Fic.
Grant bit his bottom lip hard. He could feel the sweat start to bead on his forehead. deep breaths deep breaths Grant Wilson had to keep reminding himself to breath. Him and Jason walked together through the dark halls of the opera house.
It wasnt any ghosts that Grant was afraid of it was Jason. He and Jason had been friends since 89. When they had their first paranormal experiences. It was in 90 that they decided to create T.A.P.S. they had spent almost everyday together. They worked together during the day for Roto-rooter. They spent more time together than they did with their own families.
Grant was surprised it hadnt happened sooner. The closeness, th
ColdLove is cold, it does not careCold4 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
If you, in curt contentment wear
A shine about your eyes or 'stead
A baser element of dread.
It might be wrong, it might be fair,
But love is not adept to care.
For in the name of love we weep,
And in the name of love so deep,
To prudence we become immune,
We foolishly invoke the moon.
We call on sprites, we lose concern,
We never hark, we never learn.
In fact if one were pressed to choose,
The lovers' story offers clues;
As boundless histories can tell
It's love that casts that violent spell
And causes man to abjure sense
Replacing it with folly hence.
If love could turn it might have seen
It right to spare the awful sting
Of Romeo's accursed blade
Or check the journey Orpheus made.
Instead ill-fated love remains
And curses martyrs to its chains.
And seldom since man first breathed air,
Has e'er there been a blessèd pair.
For love has stung much more than heal'd
And still exalted we would wield
It as a cause or as our fare;
Though love is cold, its
Thanks Are IllogicalSpock. Telepathic attack. Kirk couldn't think well as he held up his First Officer. Blood green, too thin to be human bled in rivulets from ears and nose. And now from his mouth, pooled in his saliva, which he could no longer keep in his mouth now that he'd lost control of that function. And Kirk was fast losing control of the situation.Thanks Are Illogical5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
He'd come to figure that he had to break the connection. That was all good if he and Spock had that kind of connection, but they didn't. Not that he was sure he wanted that kind of connection with anyone He just didn't do connections
With nothing else to try on the calm, logical Vulcan he'd come to know, he pressed his lips to Spock's own ones. And then parted them across the wet slippery sheen of blood and saliva.
That was a very cold look he was getting from Uhura. A very cold look indeed.
"His BLOOD is on your MOUTH."
Spock had been rushed to sickbay, already under the nose of Doctor McCoy. That left Kirk sitting on
ST - Cadet with Dubious MoralsPairing: Kirk/SpockST - Cadet with Dubious Morals5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Genres: AU/AR, romance, humour
A general warning for the whole story is that English is not my first language, so there will be typos and grammar errors. I apologize. Also, I don't own Star Trek, nor do I make any profit off of this. It's all for fun and creativity.
A/N: This...was for the lulz. It's a bit OOC and not very believable, but I had fun writing it.
(How Spock met Jim) Cadet with Dubious Morals
Spock stared at his PADD for an additional 1.2 minutes before surveying the occupants of the public shuttle a second time. Illogical, since upon his first thorough observation he had not encountered anything suspicious, but he had been unable to curb the initial reaction of startled confounded curiosity.
There, on his 2.3 months old PADD, on which he had been pursuing the latest science articles published in his preferred prescribed j
Heads Will Roll- FanficMedia: FicHeads Will Roll- Fanfic5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Title: Heads Will Roll
Rating: PG I suppose for implied past actions
Spoilers: Superbowl Ep.
Word Count: ~4200
Summary: Kurt's POV of the Superbowl episode; my take on what happened.
Kurt cheered; Tina was actually running with the football! One of his girls, and she was looking fabul-
His breath caught in his throat as he saw the heavy opponent bring her down, it wasn't even a real tackle but she was on the ground nonetheless. He saw Mike rush over to her; he looked concerned, as he should Kurt thought nodding, they seemed to be getting out of that 'Asian couple' nonsense. Kurt knew if he and Blaine ever-
He looked over to the boy next to him who was looking at Tina as she got taken off the field. He bit his lip, Blaine was warming up to him but he wasn't sure how to handle the situation. He wanted to slap himself after his 'Blaine likes football I like scarves' mess earlier. That was nearly as embar
Don't Get ComfortableDon't Get Comfortable5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
For every time that he had the urge to kiss Hummel, he would slam him into a locker.
It wasn't so bad in the beginning; he had only thought once or twice if the effeminate boy's lips were as soft as a girl's. So when he got to school that day, he gave Hummel a shove on the shoulder right into the lockers. It felt good at the time, his hand making contact with Hummel's soft fabric-covered arm, feeling the wiry muscles. That had surprised him, he thought he would just be soft all over. Recalling some of the performances Glee had given during school assemblies, it's no wonder he would be athletic like a dancer. The muscles, however, reminded him that Hummel was a guy- and he liked it. A lot more body slams happened that afternoon.
He could tell that the abuse was getting to Hummel, just like Kurt was getting to him. He had noticed his thoughts seemed toward the other boy so much he started to call him Kurt. But Kurt was becoming more agitated, not really even making his insults as scathin
Defying GravityIt's a wicked thing, the way I want you soDefying Gravity6 years ago in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
You have everything I need
And your everything is a gift
That you'll never give to me
A quiet sigh fades into the night
A requiem lamenting the loss of light
The loss of the you I'll never have
Tears fall like silver stars, shining bright
I wipe my eyes and spread my wings
Achromatic, in empty space
I shoulder my regrets and take flight
Finally free, gone without a trace
I make this dance look effortless
A twisted skip in the moonlit sky
God, I envy that horrid girl
You say she's perfect? So am I!
The sun will rise, and night will fall
The doves will sing and signal dawn
I tried defying gravity
And in the morning I'll be gone.
If I had you - KurtxFinnFriday night, and Kurt was doing himself up for a night out. He knew he had to let loose once in a while, and well, he'd been planning this night for a while now; his black boots shined and he had just the right amount of leather. Kurt hoped that there would hopefully be some lovely young man, well, a fucking sexy man, at the club he was going to. He was worried that he might not actually be able to get in considering that he looks like a 13 year old boy, but he had his fake id with him, and boy, was it authentic. Now there's an oxymoron; an authentic fake id. None the less, Kurt dressed the part, and attempted to make his voice slightly deeper, though failing miserably.If I had you - KurtxFinn6 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
On his way out, he grabbed his cell phone; just in case he got into trouble (depending on what kind of trouble he would be getting into). Kurt was only 16, and he was a small teenage boy, anything could happen to a kid like that. He also had that lovely singing voice of his, which could lure anybody into a trap