The Rise and FallThe Rise and FallThe Rise and Fall5 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Didn't know what time it was, the lights were low
When I unwrapped the CD and fed it to the stereo slot.
Forty years late for its five-year warning,
I knew already
What the newsman was going to say.
I knew already that the mothers would cry,
That the young woman
Would have to be pulled off the small children,
Screaming hysterically, fists swinging, painted oval nails
Longing to draw blood.
The album plays all the way through and begins again,
And a manic yowl
Sings of soldiers and lovers,
Of alligators and ray guns and cigarettes
Like a wild-eyed oracle that prophesies with no less conviction
For having received his visions from nothing but
And the flash of shadows in nightclub corners.
I am forced to ask,
Of all the kinds of oracles, why is it that rock and roll stars
Can fall asleep, can fall in love
While poets lay awake and compose sonnets for the ceiling
And painters work alone in cold and empty studios?
Where do they get the noise and l
KazJun Oneshot: Call Out My NameGo to him.KazJun Oneshot: Call Out My Name2 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Like a track on repeat, the simple command echoed through Jun's mind as she continued navigating through the busy nightlife of Tokyo, searching for the one known only as "him." She was only partly conscious of where she was, still feeling the effects of what had happened what seemed like forever ago. Plunged into a terrible abyss, pulled from the depths just when all hope seemed lost, mysteriously transported to her former hometown of Tokyo without knowing how she got there...betrayed by the one person she thought would never betray her.
So many questions filled her mind as she walked through the streets bustling with life, reminding her of how her own life was so close to being snuffed out, first at the hands of Ogre, and most recently at the hands of her betrayer. There was something oddly familiar about the voice calling out to her, drawing her to her destination even when she did not know for certain exactly where her destination is. Why was the voice calling to
'Ziggy is on'A cacophony of lust and excitement crackles in the air with intensity to challenge a hurricane. A devotion far past reverence hangs thick in the air like smoke in a dirty, back-alley pub. A time has been given, but the anticipation creates an enigmatic urgency more gripping than the best horror film. The superficial are there for his body like vultures for the dead. Those who rever what's below the skin are there for the man of words, the man of music, like good Christians waiting for the Second Coming of Christ. They all yearn for the rail-thin man, with arms no thicker than a soup can; the eyes that match as well as stripes and polka dots; the hair identical to the rich blood of a tomato; and stunning outfits that would put the most stunning of peacocks to shame. The seductive, alien voice that wails to the ears of thousands entrances and captures even the most focused of men is the one that all are poised and ready to hear. However, they know not of the true, raw nature of this mart'Ziggy is on'5 years ago in Academic Essays More Like This
Because You're Young (%%%)Because You're Young3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Pure black; grey velvet sheets pouring through the window from outside's dawn. Pierrot's eyes blinked carefully open, and peered around the room, which seemed oblivous to the fact it was morning, as everything in it was still coated in darkness. Quietly peeling off his covers so as not to disturb Serious Moonlight, his no-nonsense-before-noon room-mate. Well, frankly, Serious was no-nonsense at all, really, thought Pierrot. Slinking out into the hallway, Pierrot relaxed. He loved this time of day. It was his time. No one was up, and therefore no one could see him. Walking to the loo, he pondered his role in this new house. He never was sure if he was afraid of everyone, and he didn't talk to them because of it, or if they were afraid of him and that was why they didn't talk to him. Either way, he was shy, and no one liked him at all. He wasn't...unlikable, he thought, just very, very quiet, and odd. He rarely even ta
A Bedroom Farce"Well, I've had it!" Ziggy groused as he tossed away another lipstick that had been worn down to a sticky nub. "It's Scary Monster who's doing this, I just know it!"A Bedroom Farce4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
"What makes you say that?" asked Sers, who had come into his room to borrow some hairspray.
"No one else here uses as much makeup as I do," Ziggy explained, "and I keep this room locked when I'm away. It would have to be someone with unnatural powers and a love of powders who'd manage to pinch my supplies!"
"Powers? Now, now, Ziggy, there's nothing that proves Scary Monster is an actual monster much less someone who can slip in and out of a room without being noticed. You're probably just so busy you're losing track of your supplies."
"I know I'm right! You can never trust a clown " They were still arguing as they left, Ziggy locking the door behind him.
From beneath Ziggy's bed, there could be heard the crinkling of delicate fabrics. Scary Monster care
Throwing Darts in Lover's EyesHand hanging limply from the chair, the pale figure stares with intent at the television, yet his eyes are unfocused. A bead of sweat drifts down his face, loitering for a moment on the cheekbone, then continues it's slow descent to the jaw, where it forms a tiny droplet. The other hand, grasping a cigarette sweeps upward, knocking the droplet from its perch to the ground, where the impact breaks it into a thousand pieces.Throwing Darts in Lover's Eyes4 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
The man inhales deeply from the cigarette. On exhalation, a frown creases his brow and a grimace forms, exposing imperfect teeth. A low groan rises from deep within his throat, slowly increasing in volume until it reaches a terrible crescendo, upon which the figure's skeletal frame propels him upwards, toward the object of his intent. With great force the man's bony fist impacts with the flickering box. As a final stand, the box emits a piercing squeal, before the screen dims, leaving the pale man in darkness.
Meet the CompetitorsIt's a beautiful azure day on Knossos Island as our two teams arrive from New York City by yacht. From our candid interviews as they disembarked, it's clear all the contestants know what they think of each other and what they want.Meet the Competitors4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
First up, let's get to know the cool blue members of the Astronettes!
"I'm always up for exploring, as you know, so Pierrot and I are looking forward to the next few weeks. I can only hope the judges don't think my protein pills are an unfair advantage, or something "
"You know, I'm the one who came up with the name Astronettes for our team! Dave wanted to call it something bland like the Heathens or the Heroes, but I convinced the others to go with something more glamorous. Of course, I'm a born leader and if I can make it to the top of the pops I can certainly make it to the top here! I only wish that Scary Monster wasn't on our team! I don't trust him one bit
In dreams 1 Jareth Sarah 13In a thousand dreams I see youIn dreams 1 Jareth Sarah 136 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Chapter one: The dream
Sarah lay down in her bed: she knew even before she closed her eyes she would have the same dream that she had been having for the past three weeks since she had completed the Labyrinth.
She was alone in a huge beautiful castle, she ran through it, wearing the same dress in which she had been when dancing with Jareth. And then she came to a room, full of sunlight, a huge four-poster bed with white curtains closed round it. They were of sparkling gauze yet Sarah couldnt see who lay beyond the glittering mist. Hoggle always stood in front of it, and then he moved aside from the bed with a slight bow of the head as she approached. Sarah then walked over to the bed and drew back the curtains. Lying on the bed was Jareth, asleep; Sarah stared at him as he lay there sleeping, she went to move towards him
Sarah woke up with a start, she hated that dream, as if she would go anywhere near him, let alone in a situation like that
The violinThe ViolinThe violin3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
John's eyes flickered up from his dreary paper as the melodic, sad notes flowed off of Sherlock's violin. Sherlock stood with his back to John, his lean figure elegantly moving in slow, sad circles with his violin outstretched in his arms. The golden morning light curtained around his body, sending long shadows across the room. John felt mesmerised by the he played it with such ease, twisting and turning. The violin sang a sad song, and John almost found himself sad just to hear it.
Sherlock abruptly stopped playing, letting his arm drop and ceasing the song clumsily. John frowned, and quickly had the sense to avert his eyes back to his paper before he turned around.
Sherlock let the violin rest on his neck. He turned slightly towards John his eyes fixed on him as he tried to figure him out.
"John," He began, squinting in the light. "Do you play?"
John frowned. "Instrument wise?"
Sherlock nodded vaguely. He smiled slightly as John met his gaze and lowered his instrument.
Thankyou Mr. BowieThankyou, Mr. BowieThankyou Mr. Bowie2 years ago in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
you changed me with your labyrinth, altered me with words
undergoing ccch cch cchanges, you being my strange fascination
whiling away the time till drive in saturday
following your vague directions
memorizing every line
putting on my red shoes, dancing to the sound to your blues
weep for aladin sane, gazing into the eyes of the goblin king
freaking out in a moonage daydream purely to survive this life you made seem so dull
inspired by your style, set aflame by your ideas
my mind has become revolutionized because of you and theres nothing I can do
my story reinvented by your careful hand
comforted only by your voice
Because I know you're never ever gonna let me die and you"re never gonna get old
screaming at the pretty things, staying inside your lover's story
breezing through school as rebel, rebel
struggling to drive onward under pressure
as my world falls down, I'll give you my hands and break free from this rock n' roll suicide
carrying the knowledge that we can
One LoveSherlock is annoyed, which isn't an uncommon happening, but the reason for it is different now. He keeps hearing this high-frequency noise that's driving him crazy. Now, Sherlock isn't one to let a sound as insignificant as that get to him. Except for now. Why now, he has no idea, and that too is driving him insane. And if this noise is going to keep him from concentrating on his experiments any longer, he's going to... Well, he's not sure what he's going to do yet but it will most certainly result in either John or Mrs. Hudson yelling at him. Probably both.One Love3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Maybe he should shoot the wall again?
"I hid the gun so don't even think you'll give the wall another whooping."
Sherlock turns his gaze from his experiment (which he doesn't even know the goal of, thanks to the noise) and gives John, who's comfortably seated in his armchair and reading a book, an incredulous look. Surely he couldn't have developed a sense of deduction. What are the possibilities of him having become psychic? Close
WorthJohn looked up at his friend, his face demanding an answer for the question he just asked.Worth3 years ago in Settings More Like This
"Why do you bring me along these cases anyway?"
It's not like this was a random question, John Watson was thinking of these for some time now, actually he started thinking about it during the 'Great Game' case. It wasn't like he didn't enjoy the thrill of a chase or the feeling of putting a criminal behind bars.
Hell, if he hadn't taken Sherlock's offer he would still take short, lonely strolls on the park and wonder why didn't that bullet killed him.
So there he stood as his friend stared down at him detachedly. He was surprised when Sherlock grabbed John's jacket and motioned for him to turn around.
"This is going to sound strange John but I have a logic for when I take you in my cases" he said as he non-chalantly started to help his friend into his jacket.
"I feel as though we were meant to be together. That we have solved many cases and have fought many fights side by side, almost as if we ha
Sent at MidnightSprawled and tangled in the white crested waves of the duvet, John was submerged in restless dreams. Sweat beads made his brow glisten and his face was contorted with a variety of distressing, contrasting emotions. His hands were balled up into fists at either side of his head, fingers aimlessly grabbing at his earlobes. His bare feet kicked the duvet as though it was the enemy, or another nightmare crouching at the foot of the mattress- patiently waiting its turn.Sent at Midnight4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Outside, the night howled and rolled. It had come noisily and angrily like an agitated animal; trailing a massacre of rain and thunder in its wake. It too, was pained.
The rain fell in thick, heavy sheets, battering the windows like stones propelled with a sling-shot. Nobody walked the streets, nobody drove their cars, no drunks staggered- vomiting and swearing- back to their motels. The night had silenced them all with its fury, and was now perched on John's windowsill like a bleak raven, watching him with cruel curiosity.
The Pub - AU"The usual?"The Pub - AU3 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
"Please Sally," John replies, as the bar maid pours him a pint. The beer is exchanged for money and John sits himself down on one of the stools at the bar. This was his usual Friday custom, after a week at the surgery, he would unwind at the local pub with a beer and Sally, the bar maid, whom he had become quite good friends with. If only she would stop batting her eyelids at him and realise she wasn't exactly John's type.
"How's work?" She asks.
"Someone came in thinking they had some deadly rash the other day, turns out they had failed to wash the ketchup from their arm properly." Sally giggles. "Honestly some people in this town!" John takes a slurp of his drink. "And you? How has your week been?"
"Not nearly as exciting," she says sarcastically. "Wednesday was horrible, with the football on and all. I wondered if I might see you there." She sounded disappointed.
"Me? No, I'm not much a football person." John and Sally pause their conversation as Sally serves another cu
One - USUK[Fair warning to y'all: I wasn't sure if I should have put the mature content filter thing on. I doubt it though.]One - USUK4 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Alfred dislodges himself from the being underneath him and collapses onto the messy sheets next to his British lover. Sapphires and emeralds admire each other curiously as Alfred and Arthur lie panting for what seems like hours, both wet as a result of their passionate sex.
Alfred reaches out to the nightstand and grabs something Arthur can't identify in the dim light. He feels the American's hand join his own under the sheets. Arthur squeezes the soft palm tightly.
The taller blond smiles, closing his eyes. Arthur watches this, noticing the younger nation's beautifully soft features that hold no trace of Alfred's usual childishness.
"Arthur, I need to ask you something." Alfred's voice is barely audible above the sound of their heavy breathing.
Arthur feels something cold and round slip around h
steady breaths XISome things are easier said than done. It's not even the thing of being fair to the other, acting as if you cared more than you are ready to admit. It is easier to shelter yourself with cheap sounding excuses, burrow all the hurt beneath pages written neatly on the topic of biochemistry or radiology. You like to think you are the brightest crayon in the whole box but there are many kinds of intelligence, my poor child. You lack some aspects of those socially oriented ones but still, it doesn't hurt as much as the books say it should. After all, who cares if something cuts right trough your flesh into the bone instead of coming down like it should. Everyone is interested in getting to know the details, the facts, even if they are surrounded by bunch of useless emotional gibberish. Gossiping is useful, on the other hand. It helps clear some things up rather quickly, much more efficiently than doing all the needed finding and cataloging yourself. Mycroft might be lazy but there is indeedsteady breaths XI3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Vintern Alskare - Chapter OneTitle: Vintern Älskare - Chapter OneVintern Alskare - Chapter One4 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Pairing: Sweden x Finland (Berwald Oxenstierna x Tino Väinämöinen / Sverige x Suomi)
Rating: T (Teen) not Quite M (Mature) But close .
Chapter One: "Not My Child!"
Peter awoke and squirmed out of bed. It never failed, Raivis always managed to hog the bed by morning making it really hard to get out of bed. But Peter managed to wiggle his way free without waking his bedmates or Nanny Hattie asleep in her own cot across the room. In just his nightshirt and socks Peter sleepily made his way down the stairs to the third floor bedrooms, Mama's room was the first door on the right and Peter pushed it open.
There in the bed as always Mama was sleeping, a different man beside him most every morning. This morning it was the fat one that smelled like grease and cigars. Mama didn't like this one and neither did Peter. He had no idea what went on behind closed doors, just a bunch of noise at night and lots of sleeping people i
Johnlock - Speaking Silent Words - Fluff WarningIt's been about a week since me and Sherlock decided to go steady.Johnlock - Speaking Silent Words - Fluff Warning3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
To be honest, nothing much has changed. I'd confessed my feelings over dinner 8 days ago, and received a frosty reception from the detective. Considering it had taking much mental convincing and building up to the point where I could confront him on my feelings, I found it hard to take. We spent the rest of the night in silence, as Sherlock zoned out to think (or just purposely ignored me) and I simply couldn't think of anything to begin another conversation.
I'd be lying if i said that I got much sleep that night. Well, neither did Sherlock. I woke up to him being in the exact same spot, wearing the same clothes as the night before, except this time, his fingers weren't pent, and his bright grey eyes weren't glazed over as they usually were when he thought. Instead, he sat crossed legged in his chair reading yesterdays paper. A paper he'd already read.
"Ah! You're up." He said brightly, folding his paper and placing it
Of Tea and CiderOf Tea and CiderOf Tea and Cider4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"Sarah, I will not takes you back to the Underground! Not no way! Not no how!" Hoggle yelled shaking a finger at the now thirty-year-old Sarah Williams; why had he promised her one birthday wish of her choosing?
"Oh come on Hoggle! It's my birthday!"
"Do you have a death wish for your birthday? Because this is a good way of gettin' 'round to it if ya do!"
"He can't still be mad at me I mean, it's been fifteen years! I won, he lost simple as that. I can't imagine that he would still be a sore loser after all these years."
Hoggle glared at the brunette before him. He'd been visiting her weekly since her trip through the labyrinth and they'd become closer friends than Hoggle would have ever thought possible. The, in his opinion, young girl before him was like a sister to him and he didn't want any harm to come to her, but she was pleading with him to take her to the
Curl Up and Dye SxJIt should be amusing actually, John thinks to himself. Had he really just not let himself notice? He'd been living with a man who forced him to notice things, who got disappointed in John when he couldn't see something that to Sherlock was just so bloody obvious it didn't even need one whole brain cell to notice it, work out what it meant and file it away. He had a feeling that if Sherlock had even the first inkling of what John was thinking now he'd get that look on his face which Mrs Clarkson would get when he handed in an essay on Alexander Pope late, riddled with spelling mistakes. "Really, John you must try harder next time."Curl Up and Dye SxJ4 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Sherlock has had a haircut. Brilliant deduction so far, Watson, keep going old boy. His hair is now just a shade from being the length of a military recruit, dark fuzz covering his head where once it was those minky curls that looked so thick and soft, like you could bury hands into and loose them... and this is what John can'
What He Doesn't SeeWhat He Doesn't SeeWhat He Doesn't See3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
"I'm popping out for a bit." John announced from the hallway. "Should be gone for a few hours, if you need me I'll be at-"
"-at Sarah's. Yes, I know." Sherlock supplied without looking away from his computer.
John stood stunned in the doorway. "How can you possibly know that?"
"Easy, you've just come from upstairs but you haven't entered the room. Instead, you are hovering near the coat rack with a hand covering your right pocket as you check for your house keys. Clearly, you're on your way out. It's too late for the clinics to be open so it's not work related. Plus, you put on cologne which you rarely do unless you want to be noticed but you usually overdo it when you met someone new. The fact that I can barely smell you means that you put on just enough to attract attention, but not too much so that you'll stand out. There are a few droplets of cologne on your left ear just below the lobe where there hasn't been enough time for it to sink into your skin, as
steady breaths XJohn eyes you steadily for a moment, cloth dangling from his hand uselessly. He sets the plate aside before sitting heavily down beside the table once again, hands folded on the back of his neck. He sighs and some of the tension filling your chest flees with the hushed breath. Why exactly, you don't really know.steady breaths X3 years ago in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
"I didn't propose to her if that's what you mean." His lips twist into half a smile, half a frown as he continues to stare at the table. He glances at you fleetingly from under his brows. There's a glint in that gaze, something you can't really decipher. He ruffles his hair, muffling a nervous laugh, "Fuck. Why am I even telling you this? You're not really a heart counselor, are you, Sherlock?"
"She wants to move in here?" You bring the cup closer to your mouth, its surface resembling ice in your grip. John stares at you, his eyes flickering to and fro between yours and the table. He starts knitting his fingers together, an embarrassed expressio
Holmes and Watson: ConfirmationHolmes and Watson: Confirmation3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
The colossal chiming of the Big Ben sounded as both hands on its face struck Midnight.
"Gracious me, it's that late already!" said Sherlock, observing the third hand ticking away on his watch.
Before John could respond, Sherlock was already headed down a dark footpath, on his way home from the police station. John quickly caught up with him.
As they made their way down the road the two comrades found themselves in a heated discussion about smoking and the obvious disadvantages it brings to an individual's health. What with John being a qualified doctor, he was certain he would win this argument with Sherlock looking quite the fool. However, to his growing dismay, Sherlock didn't seem to be phased by his knowledgeable albeit repetitive facts about how one's chances of contracting cancer were increased by smoking. Eventually they seemed to become more and more superfluous after each one of Sherlock's counter-arguments. He would simpl