NarcissusWhen it came to homosexuality, Miles was old-fashioned. He was embarrassed, a little ashamed and had waited until both of his parents were dead. He was a little disconcerted by the world of modern relationships. The physical aspect was embarked upon immediately. Love, however, could only be mentioned when the couple had been together for a suitable period of time. The rule was you can't love someone you don't know.Narcissus3 years ago in Scraps More Like This
Miles had fallen in love with Brett instantly. Helplessly. He'd never experienced such panic and hope. Sex seemed inevitable, completely out of his control. But it hadn't happened. Affection hadn't materialised either. Reality reasserted itself. Brett didn't feel the same way about him. Brett didn't feel that way about anyone. There were countless admirers surrounding him male and female. He was young and beautiful. Astoundingly beautiful. Miles would have done anything for him. Which is why he'd made the mistake of agreeing to become his agent.
It was only a small mo
Five LumpsJohn was a little blue teapot, short but stout of heart. Sherlock was a tall teapot, elegant and milky white.Five Lumps2 years ago in Humor More Like This
Molly was tiny, and full of sweetness. She was a sugar bowl.
The three of them were on the kitchen table at 221 Baker Street, surrounded by the remains of Mrs Hudson’s breakfast. Only Molly had played an active role in that. Mrs Hudson was lending the two teapots out to the Women’s Institute for a get-together later that morning, and they were already partially wrapped up. John smiled at how excited Sherlock was. He was clearly hoping that a new case would present itself once they were out and about.
“Where’s Mike?” John asked Molly.
“Mrs Hudson’s just giving him a rinse,” she said.
John glanced over at where his milk jug friend was being swirled under the tap by their owner. He liked Mike and Molly - not as exciting as Sherlock perhaps, but they were both intelligent company and thoroughly good sorts.
Like John, they were secondh
Let Down Your HairMrs Holmes had bizarre cravings during her pregnancy. Specifically, for the contents of the vegetable patch belonging to the DI next door.Let Down Your Hair2 years ago in Humor More Like This
“Delicious!” said Mrs Holmes. “If the baby’s a girl, I’ll call her Lettice. If it’s a boy, he’ll be Kale.”
Could be worse, thought Mr Holmes. She’d called their first child Mycroft.
But the new baby had glorious curls, so they named him Sherlock. He was a bright boy, into everything and soon the DI had to arrest him for interfering in police business.
Sherlock was locked away in a tall tower. As time passed and his abundant hair grew, his unique genius developed. The DI realised he could use Sherlock as a consulting detective and decided never to release him.
One day a hero named John arrived.
“You can’t get in!” yelled down Sherlock.
John beamed. “Someone’s sulky. You should let your hair down a bit.”
“Ah,” said Sherlock.
John climbed up Sherlock
A NecklaceHis apology's stonesA Necklace2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
matched the bruises.
Breaking EvenBroke her heart.Breaking Even2 years ago in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Broke his nose.