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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
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
Cooking with the DukeOne could almost see stink lines emanate from the Thin White Duke's creasing brow. He had so generously offered to make dinner for the other personae, had slaved all afternoon in the kitchen, and now here the personae sat, barely nibbling at the main course.Cooking with the Duke4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
His eyes flashed when they caught sight of Major Celliers chewing on the petals of a rose he had plucked from the centerpiece. "Found something more palatable than my stuffed red peppers, Major?"
"Oh, I wouldn't say more palatable," Celliers replied with his own eyes twinkling and his lips half-smiling. "But you've offered us no traditional scoop of sherbet between courses, and I have to cleanse my palate somehow."
"He has a point," said fellow military man Lieutenant Paul Von Przygodsky. "There is a certain sameness to your cooking. I mean, a salad of red peppers drizzled with red pepper vinaigrette followed by roasted red pepper soup followed by stuffed red peppers, with cand
Baskerville Nightmares part 1Title: Baskerville Nightmares part 1/2Baskerville Nightmares part 14 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
BBC Sherlock fanfiction
Warnings: Spoilers for Series 2 Episode 2 'The Hounds of Baskerville' and m/m slash!
'At last the pack makes a successful kill. After the alpha '
John Watson began to lose focus of the television screen as his eyelids started to droop. David Attenborough's familiar voice lulling him to sleep.
' then the rest of the pack will feed.'
"Should you be watching this?"
John jerked awake at the loud, sudden voice just behind his left ear. "What?"
Sherlock circled the chair and blocked the TV as he bent close to John's face, eyes assessing. "Should you be watching this? A programme about wolves, so soon after the Dartmoor Hound case?"
"The Hound of Baskerville case." John corrected. It was what he had decided to name their latest adventure on his blog. "It's been a week, and these are wolves Sherlock, not some red-eyed ginormous make-believe hound."
"Regardless of what David Attenboro
Everything is Not as it Seems part 2Sherlock climbed the stairs to their flat in silence, leaving John to pay the cabbie and catch up to him. Moriarty was alive. The man he had seen hanged was nothing more than a stand in. A proxy. A fake. The realization was crushing.Everything is Not as it Seems part 23 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
Inside the living room Sherlock fell over the back of the sofa, rolling onto the cushions to lay, his long body sprawled across the piece of furniture as if he couldn't be bothered to right himself. John followed him up the stairs and stood over the sofa for a moment, trying to decide whether it would be worth it to ask his flatmate what had just happened. Finally giving in to his curiosity he walked around the sofa and took his place in front of Sherlock.
"Alright, speak." he ordered, arms crossed over his chest.
"Don't feel like it." Sherlock replied gruffly.
John sighed and rolled his eyes but refused to back down. "What happened in there? What did Noel tell you?"
Sherlock returned the sigh with one far heavier and sat up. "He told me that we
KazJun Oneshot: Call Out My NameGo to him.KazJun Oneshot: Call Out My Name3 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
The Case of the Vanishing BlogYou can tell a lot about a person by how they spend their nights.The Case of the Vanishing Blog4 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
The upper-floor apartment in 221B Baker Street had two bedrooms. One was unexpectedly tidy, belying the tendency of its bed to be used at odd hours, for various durations and with inconsistent states of dress. The drawers had a sock index.
The other bed belonged to a doctor who, despite being a textbook PTSD case, had not been having trouble sleeping in that particular bed.
John Watson lay awake at what he knew was some ungodly hour in the morning, staring at the ceiling. Occasionally a car would drive past outside, causing flashes of light to speed across the ceiling and disappear again. Gaps in the curtains.
It had been three days since the Pool. John had written on his blog about it just today and been flooded with replies. He'd then read what he'd written and realised how absurd it sounded. Like something out of books. Comic books, even. Shoddily written, cheap comic books the type school kid
Chasing CarsIt was 3 am, John was exhausted. He and Sherlock had just chased a murder suspect to Greenwich Market (he made a poor attempt of hiding under one of the stools). Thanks to Sherlock's knowledge of Indian cutlery they had found him within minutes and had brought him out onto the street where Lestrade was waiting to arrest the man.Chasing Cars4 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
They were now walking through Greenwich Park, it was a cold October night, there was a clear sky that night and you could see a number of stars shining through the trees, fighting against London's pollution that usually prevented them from showing off. Sherlock deep in thought, no doubt cataloging the case in his hard drive, and John was too tired to talk so they walked together side by side in silence.
As they reached a secluded part of the path, Sherlock stopped. There was a gap in the trees and he looked through it at the silver dots spread out throughout the sky. He half smiled. The sky was so beautiful at night.
To John's surprise, Sherlock sat down on 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 SxJ5 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'
Earth Angel - USUK - 2-Arthur-Earth Angel - USUK - 24 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Hey Arthur, I'm sorry I couldn't make it to the dance with you tonight. Matthew's going to be there, though. Go with him. I'd love if you did that. You won't regret it, I promise.
I read the note for what must have been the hundredth time in the first half-hour of that class. I looked at the clock above the classroom door. 2:30, it read.
I sighed, placing the paper back in my pocket.
I'd tried to analyse the note over a thousand times. Why did he want me to go with his brother? Was it because he thought their similar looks would throw off my feelings for him? Did he not want anything to do with me? What did he mean by 'you won't regret it?'
Anyways, going to the dance with Matthew wasn't going to make me stop loving Alfred anytime soon. Matthew was shy all the time, even more so than I.
In dreams 2 Jareth Sarah 13Chapter two: The Looking OrbIn dreams 2 Jareth Sarah 137 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
It had been three days since Hoggle had left the orb on her vanity table. Sarah had managed to resist its siren call, although Toby was fascinated by the bloody thing, and would keep pointing at it going, Jaa, jaa! She would patiently correct him, saying, No, its an o-r-b. At which point, Toby would change to, Gob, gob! Sarah would then give up: it was fortunate that Toby hadnt been too old when his little abduction had taken place, otherwise she wondered what her father and stepmother would have made of words like goblin, bounce bounce, king and most importantly, bad wish!
For the fiftieth time, she looked at the innocent crystal object. Colours played over its surface, as if it were made of oil or inlaid with mother of pearl. But no: it was a crystal, nothing more in his words. She slapped the side of her head: she shouldnt be using his words.
You Shouldn't Have: Sherlock DrabbleYou Shouldn't Have: A ViginetteYou Shouldn't Have: Sherlock Drabble4 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Rated PG (I guess)
He hated doing this. Too much scrambling, too many loud sounds. The tedious nature or normal people was surrounding him; he couldn't escape. Or rather, he chose not to. Not that it mattered. He was having his own fun, deducing and inferring based on little tells the people he observed left behind.
"Stop doing that," said John, lugging several bags while Sherlock winced, jutting his eyes around.
"You look like a hyena; people are staring."
"Well, I'm perfectly fine with that, since I'm staring right back," Sherlock replied with a light grin. He closely surveyed the area and learned some pretty interesting, if not peculiar stories. A tall man, a tired look in his eyes. Yellow fingernails, longtime smoker. A mark on the left side of his neck; mostly likely from being an avid violinist. Had a very smooth stride, possibly was in marching band earlier in his life. Eh, the fun wasn't in the normals. The mass murderers, the arsonists, the burg
Under Your Spell"I'm afraid that is impossible." Sherlock waited for the reply. "I do not involve myself with..." John watched as Sherlock frowned and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Is there nothing else I can do instead?" Sherlock sighed. "Very well," was his final answer as he hung up and threw his mobile on the space next to him on the couch. John said nothing but looked expectantly at Sherlock. "Count Benini. He refuses to be of any help to us."Under Your Spell4 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
"Doesn't he understand that we are trying to catch a thief?" John asked.
"Oh John, you and your morals. Benini is a Count, therefore reputation and power is the most important thing in his life. He does not care whether we catch a petty thief or not."
"This thief killed someone that caught him in the act! How can he..." John sighed, he couldn't understand how some people could value life at such a low price. "All we want is a list of names that were at his party last month."
"Yes but these people are high up on the social calendar, including the Italian
Merry Christmas, Mr. Celliers Laughter tripped through the room as Dave opened his present---a handbook on good parenting skills. He rolled his eyes, but couldn't keep the smile from his face, "And this is why I never liked the 'Secret Santa' idea...there's always at least one smart-aleck..." He laughed, looking pointedly at the Thin White Duke, who was sniggering uncontrollably.Merry Christmas, Mr. Celliers3 years ago in Short Stories More Like This
Ziggy Stardust let loose a high-pitched giggle, still admiring his gift, a one hundred shade eyeshadow palette. "But that's half the fun of it!" He protested impishly. "You get exactly what you never knew you needed!" Clutching his palette to his chest, he said, "Or, what you've been desperately hinting at---like mine!"
Lodger stood, holding a large box and looking thoroughly puzzled. "Jack, this is for you...but I don't recognise it."
Majour Lieutenant Jack Celliers looked up hazily, as if breaking from a dream. "What---oh. Uhm..." He bit his lip. "Yeah...yeah, sure, okay." Leaning forward from the couch, he a
Sure Did Treat Me Nice.Jareth stared unblinking through the frosted window at her. She was adorable, pouting petulantly in the corner in her little red dress. Through the haze the cold created he saw her wipe a chubby fist across her cheek, dashing away tears too little for him to see from so far away. He smiled as he looked down at the object in his hand. Red and white swirls twisted around each other in a sugary promise to any who happened upon it. He flicked his hand and it disappeared, waiting for him to call it forth again, along with the main reason he had for appearing to her so soon.Sure Did Treat Me Nice.6 years ago in Humor More Like This
With one last look at his objective- how perfect she looked framed in that window- he closed his eyes and materialized in the room opposite the seven-year-old Sarah, waiting patiently until she pulled her beautiful eyes away from her shiny black shoes. Whatever he had been expecting as her reaction (he was ready to spend quite a few minutes in a sound-proofed room convincing her she was safe should she start screaming) i
Adventures in Babysitting...Ringo Starr waited patiently outside, wrapping the coat tighter around him when a brisk April breeze gave him a startling chill.Adventures in Babysitting...5 years ago in Fan Fiction More Like This
Suddenly, the door opened and Ringo found himself face to face with his client, the diminutive Roger Daltrey of the Who.
"I can`t say `ow much I thank ya enough for comin` over, Rings," Roger said as moved aside to let the Beatle in. "I `eard from John and Paul that you`re great with kids."
"That`s true," Ringo replied shyly as he hung up his coat.
"And on such short notice too! But then again, `tis not everyday your fiancé decides to get shitfaced and winds up in the big `ouse." Roger frowned disparagingly as he remembered the phone call from the Brighton police, telling him that yet again Pete Townshend was locked up for public drunkenness. "I`m tellin` ya, Rings...If Pete pulls this shit again, `e`s gone. I`m chuckin` `is deadbeat arse to the curb, I will. But I stay nice to `im cos `e`
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
BirdsongAnna Milligan is a lovely woman, intelligent as well, with shining orange hair like fire, striking emerald eyes, and dreams of a beautiful future and life that she has never hesitates to share with anyone willing to listen. She's brought so much hope to so many lives, with her smile and her words. She is everything one could want in a wife or a mother, and then she is so much more.Birdsong4 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
As Anna Milligan lies in a hospital bed, with clumps of hair that's turned dull missing and the rest cut short, and with an oxygen tube strapped across her pale face and in her nose to help her breathe, her eyes are as bright as ever, filled with the hope and happiness that would fit anywhere but at the same time nowhere better than in the eyes and heart of a young woman who's had cancer for years.
By Anna's bedside, in three rickety plastic chairs, sit Anna's husband, their ten-year-old son, and their fifteen-year-old daughter, who has the same beautiful eyes and hair as her mother. She's so young, so full
Dear Jonesy...Dear Jonesy...3 years ago in Letters More Like This
John Paul Jones, Jonesy, etc.,
Hello! Wow there are a LOT of things I want to say to you but I'll try to keep this fairly short. First of all, I LOVE Led Zeppelin. Obviously, or else I probably wouldn't be writing this letter. One of the main reasons I love Zep so much is because you're absolutely amazing! You are such a great musician! It's really inspiring. I mean, I play bass, and you're probably my #1 inspiration (even more than Entwistle!) Of course, I'll never be as good as you; but hey, it's damn near impossible to be that awesome, right?
When did you first learn to play?
On a different note, I'm bonkers for Them Crooked Vultures.
On yet another not, (man, how many notes ARE there?)I just bought Zooma and also The Thundertheif and WOW! Well done! Gotta say, I love your voice!
Haha, I could go on forever, but you probably don't want to read page after page of me rambling on (and on). So...thank you for being so badass and cool and talent
A Quarter GallonJohn didn't think badly of himself, nor particularly well. He always figured he was just there. After all, being made of plastic, what more could a bottle of water do than stand and look pretty?A Quarter Gallon4 years ago in General Fiction More Like This
John distinctly remembers being bought. A pound fifty, they'd paid for him, and John tried his best to not be offended. After all, his skin did tell the lie of him being filled up to a quarter gallon. When he is brought back to the man's flat, not even having caught his name yet, he is stuffed in a fridge, right next to a head of which he can't seem to find the body and a smelly carton of milk. He tries to inch away from it, yet even if he could, it seemed a jar of fingers and an open tupperware containing hair barred his path.
After countless of minutes consisting of countless of seconds, the door opens and he is wrenched loose and put right next to a microscope and petri dishes containing things he'd really rather not contemplate. Pain as his cap is screwed loose,
Massugu Mae No Chpt 4Massugu Mae No Chpt 46 years ago in Teen More Like This
Massugu Mae No Chapter 4
It was cloudy and muggy from the rain. Everyone began to continue what they were doing, before the rain had stalled them. No one expected this day to be any different. It seemed so normal, but it was about to change, dramatically. A dark figure was jumping from roof top to roof top. This huge dark creature was lose in Arata. It had huge hands, and even bigger feet. Its muzzle was long, and filled with teeth. The creature's claws were sharp and long; and it was looking for another meal. It ran the roof tops of Arata. It moved so fast, that the residents of the city couldn't see it. This creature- no, this monster was a danger to everyone. But, no one was even aware of it. How do you defend yourself from a monster you know nothing about? It sprinted through the town leaving flecks of blood that fell from its mouth as it went. It stopped on the corner of an alley for it had found a new target; an old woman had just turned the corner to go into the alley. The monst
Massugu Mae No Chpt 2Massugu Mae No Chpt 26 years ago in Teen More Like This
Massugu Mae No Chapter 2
By the time Angel and Leto left the huge tree, it had already become late afternoon. They began to head home. Angel's house was closest, so Leto dropped her off at her house. Angel and Leto waved bye to each other as she walked up the path back to her house. When she was about half way to her house, she could smell dinner being prepared. The sweet aroma of ham and turkey being made gave her a little push with walking. When she got to her door she put her hand on the handle, but she stopped. There was yelling inside, and an unfamiliar scent. She tried to put her ear up against the door to try and hear what they were yelling about. After she had put her ear to the door, it opened. Angel fell forward, onto the welcome mat. She looked up to see a man she had never seen before. He had dark hair, he was a demon, his tail twisted behind him. He turned back to her father and said in a menacing voice "You have been warned, there is nothing else I can do." With this last
Jareth x Reader: Treasure Me Pt 1Jareth x Reader: Treasure Me Pt 11 year ago in Romance More Like This
Books were a weakness of (y/n)'s. She owned two-and-a-half book shelves worth. Most of them were Fantasy and Science-Fiction, but scattered among the books were some General Fiction and Non-Fiction. She didn't purchase them on a whim. Each book had been one she'd read before, and after reading them, she wanted a copy for herself to read over and over again. (y/n) treasured every single one of them.
The young college student had her eye on a used book store she hadn't been into yet. (y/n) drove passed it many times. It was small and kind of hidden between a cafe and a boutique. The rustic sign above the doors was welcoming. After two weeks of putting it off, (y/n) finally took the time to check it out.
She pulled into a parking stall in front of the store. She had a good feeling about it as she read the sign: "Second-Hand Treasures". (y/n) knew she'd find one or two of them. Maybe three.
The bell inside the store jingled when she opened the door, its tone rich and light. It made the man
StardustDescending from the hStardustStardustDescending from the h2 years ago in Free Verse More Like This
Descending from the heavens, creature of the sky
Filled with so many shattered hopes, feeding us so many beautiful lies
A figure in the darkness, wailing in the rain
Living off someone else's comfort, oblivious to pain
Challenging what is expected, befriending the obscene
Leaving behind the past, living his demented dreams
Welcoming the shadows, not knowing what is right
Linking hands with death, sparkling among artificial lights
Guitar in hand, singing of things he never knew he would have
Thinking he's immortal, never ever gonna die
Powdered and preened, luscious and unseen
Lord of androgyny, our king of glitter and silk
hidden wounds blossoming, fighting onward, not sure of how much blood's been spilt
Ziggy's coming loose, splitting at the seams
Noone wants to notice, only wants to remember who he might have been
Anothers in his spotlight, so much bolder and better than he
Fans leaving forever, there's a new show to see
Thinks of his life, so tired of it all
One last follow