Beautiful Scars- Chapter 16 "Get it through your head, N. You can't trust humans." A stinging voice echoed throughout the walls surrounding two people. One was N, who was backed against one of the walls. He stared up at the other man. He tried to maintain his poker face, but every word stung worse than a thousand bees. "Humans are untrustworthy beings, you know. Look what they do to their pokemon, hm?" The older man snarled furiously, his face twisted upwards in a sneer.Beautiful Scars- Chapter 16 in Fan Fiction More Like This
"There have to be good humans somewhere..!" N protested, earning himself a slap across his face. Tumbling to the floor, he didn't even bother looking up. He knew what was next; he had grown accustomed to this.
"Forget it, N. It's futile, humans can't be trusted." The man murmured in a venomous voice. "Come to trust man, and they will turn your backs on you. You can only trust pokemon, trust them only."
N squeezed his eyes shut as his body was shoved against the hard surfaces of the walls and floors. He didn't even know where
Beautiful Scars- Chapter 13 "Hurry up guys, before it gets too crowded." I heard the impatient growl of Bianca's father outside my door, followed by furious knocks.Beautiful Scars- Chapter 13 in Fan Fiction More Like This
"Yeah I know, hang on." I was waiting by the door, watching N brush his hair. One thing he always did was brush his hair he claimed he had to perfect hair all the time. It always had to be neat and perfectly brushed no matter where he went. Sometimes brushing it could take nearly a half an hour.
"Almost done..." He brushed down his bangs with some water, and then turned to me. "Alright, now I'm ready."
"About time, you take longer than a girl." I sighed, grabbing my keycard and wallet. I headed out the door with N at my heels.
"So you two are sharing a room then?" Bianca giggled as all of us walked down the hallway.
"It's not like that." I rolled my eyes.
"Not like wha
Beautiful Scars- Chapter 17"N? What are you doing here?"Beautiful Scars- Chapter 17 in Fan Fiction More Like This
I've been here before. Yes, this has happened before. N was at my doorstep, covered in dirt and blood, soaking wet from the rain and he was barely able to stand. It was that day several weeks ago again. N showing up at my doorway., but, why was this happening again? I felt myself move like I had before, but in my shock I was unable to move him alone.
Like before, I had Smugleaf help N inside, and like before I sat by and tried desperately to snap N out of it. I felt as if I was trying harder this time, and wishing with all my might he would wake up. But, he didn't. Instead, I felt something lap at my feet. I was crouched next to his body, and I hadn't even noticed the red pools of blood seeping from his shirt.
"John, these gashes won't stop bleeding." My voice echoed, it didn't even sound like mine. Once N's shirt was removed, he was covered in scars and scratches. But they were ble
Beautiful Scars- Chapter 3To make up for the lack of editing last chapter, I had two people edit this one. Thank you Spirit and Lost!Beautiful Scars- Chapter 3 in Fan Fiction More Like This
Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon!
Warnings: This story contains Yaoi (malexmale) possible lemons (maybe). This story also contains mentions of rape and abuse, if you find it uncomfortable or offensive, I wouldn't suggest reading this!
Over a week of living with N had drained me completely. I was hoping I'd be used to it by now, but I wasn't. He was a lot better now, and although he was still jumpy and fearful, he could walk confidently around the house and finally shower properly. Although he had this new confidence, questions also came with it. N in the kitchen was not good. N around electric equipment or sharp objects was not good. N was not good, period. He was a walking time-bomb ready to ruin anything he touched. He had honestly tried to microwave a can of soup while it was still in the can! He marveled at the fridge for at least ten minutes, asking me what
Beautiful Scars- Chapter 2Hurrah for fast updates! I couldn't get my editor to edit this in time, so I did my best with the editing...Anyway, on with the fic!Beautiful Scars- Chapter 2 in Fan Fiction More Like This
Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon!
Warnings: This story contains Yaoi (malexmale) possible lemons (maybe). This story also contains mentions of rape and abuse, if you find it uncomfortable or offensive, I wouldn't suggest reading this!
It had been awhile, several days maybe that N remained in a slumber. Each time he woke, he didn't do much but blabber something about 'he's back'. And each time he slept, he would toss and turn, groan and mutter. He even screamed a few times. We all tried to get him to eat, but anytime N even saw another person he shriveled back into a cocoon. By this time, because it was always so busy downstairs with people, I moved N up to my room.
I wasn't sure why he hadn't been moved to a hospital yet, maybe because I didn't want him too. He was scared of humans right now, and as irritated I was with this random situation I wa
Beautiful Scars- Chapter 14 "Huh? Wait, for what?" I asked confused. N fidgeted with his fingers again, looking uncomfortable.Beautiful Scars- Chapter 14 in Fan Fiction More Like This
"For everything. Just, for everything. Showing up suddenly and... and just, being the annoying person I am." He sighed shakily. His face was twisted up in a strange sorrow.
"It's no big deal, really." Well, it sort of was, but I didn't want to say that.
"But it is, Black, and you deserve an explanation at least." He said quietly, looking down at his hands which were shaking.
"An explanation?" I echoed.
N nodded, looking as if he was mentally preparing himself before he spoke again. "After I left, I was intent on finding a real purpose. Discovering the real world and exploring new places. Just, I needed to get away. I should not have though "
"How come?" I had a feeling this would be a long story, so I sat ba
Beautiful Scars- Chapter 1Disclaimer: I do not own Pokemon!Beautiful Scars- Chapter 1 in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Warnings: I am warning you now, this story will contain yaoi (malexmale relationshsips) It will also have mentions of parental abuse, rape and incest (I tried to keep it to a minimum.) Also, suggestive dialogue and cussing.
It had been only two years, since that day. The day my life changed. It was the day I began my faithful journey across Unova. My name? Black, and I wasn't even seventeen yet when I finished my journey across the region. I had caught pokebros, and trained them to defeat any opponent. Within a year, my friends and I had risen to become some of the strongest trainers in Unova. I had beaten the Champion about six months ago, making me a champion myself. But not before I had got the legendary Pokemon Zekrom.
I remember it quite plainly. I had battled against my friend, or supposed friend, N in a battle between two legendaries. He wanted to separate pokemon and humans so we could finally live equally, and to do so he needed to b
Beautiful Scars- Chapter 12 "What's wrong, boy? I thought you didn't want me to hurt you anymore." The man N feared so much, for so long stood above the body of another man, a younger man who was about N's age, maybe a bit younger.Beautiful Scars- Chapter 12 in Fan Fiction More Like This
"That did not mean to go and hurt someone else!" N was crouched down, bound to the wall by chains. He was covered in blood, but this blood wasn't his. It belonged to the person on the ground. His clothes were in shreds, and dirt scuffed across his skin and the remains of his clothes.
"You should have been more specific; Oh well, it's too late now." The older man replied, his own green hair falling around his dirty, cruel face. One red eye shone through the darkness, leering at the younger man. He grabbed person below, lifting him up by short brown hair. He groaned in half consciousness as the man forced him to the ground again.
"Please, stop! Do it to me, not him! Just let him go..!" N pleaded, pulling at the chains that restrained him.
"I don't think I
Beautiful Scars- Chapter 25 Another flash struck the sky, followed by a loud rumbling that almost shook the entire city. Rain fell at an alarming rate, making it even hard for me to even see my own hand inches in front of my face. As the sounds of the thunder and water danced together, I attempted blasting it away with music; unfortunately my iPod was out of battery. I shoved it in my pocket muttering incoherently to myself about how I should charge it longer. I shook my head, raindrops flying off my hair. Though, this was futile because the wet droplets were replaced by more. I was drenched from head to toe in rain water. Earlier, White and I got caught in the sudden storm that seemed to go all out in a matter of seconds. Once we found Bianca, we went our separate ways. I headed to the store before going home, buying the cheapest store brand products I could find. From all the rain I was soaked through to the skin, and I felt like a walking snowman.Beautiful Scars- Chapter 25 in Romance More Like This
More lightning lit the sky, and I brace
Beautiful Scars- Chapter 7 Man, I fucked up this time. I couldn't even get a damn job at a fast food place. My hands in my palms, I sighed yet again. Now I had nothing to do, and next to no source of income. I had no job, I lived in a nothing town and did nothing all day. Sometimes I wished I could go out and go on adventures some more, but somehow that didn't seem as appealing as it did when I was younger. Nowadays, I spent my time just puttering around. I felt like an old man. Oh well, at least vacation was in two days, I was already completely packed and ready to go. Now all I had to do was to wait for two more days to go by.Beautiful Scars- Chapter 7 in Fan Fiction More Like This
Which was hard. It also sucked due to the fact that N would be coming too, but at least I had convinced my mom to get us separate hotel rooms. I had begged long and hard;
"Mom, seriously, I need my space. I can't keep sleeping with him; he kicks me in his sleep and wakes me up all the time!"
"You know I can't afford to give you money for two separate r
gloaming time.This reminds me of the time we stood on my porch in the middle of a storm, watching the sky change colors and shapes, as we transformed with the rain. You glowed.gloaming time. in Free Verse More Like This
But now, you're burning alive and I'd give anything not to care.
But next time you close your eyes and ask me to please, please trust you, I'll be dropping ashes in your shoes and watching your boxes go up in flames.
[you always looked beautiful by candlelight.]
Something like fate, they saidI never did like the way you would swing your car around those curves by my house when you drove me home in the middle of the night. I was never one to be cautious, but with you I felt like the world was rushing away and we were just speeding to keep up.Something like fate, they said in Free Verse More Like This
I don't like to say "we", you know, I don't like to say "us". But most times, I don't know what to say; that boy and I, that thief and I, that breaker of promises, that killer of dreams, that boy outside my window when I'm trying to stay sane.
(I hate you, I think, I really do.)
You were all stubble and long legs and hands like the moon, and my bruises fit your finger prints like a glove. I was too young for you then, I'm too young now, and you were too raw and worn and burned beyond recognition, a dragon I was never meant to see. But as your odometer pushed eighty and your fingers pushed through my spine, you said rules didn't apply to you, you were the dark clouds that watched the sun pass, you were what god wished he was. You put th
Passing time.Winter has turned to rain here, in this cityPassing time. in Free Verse More Like This
near the curve of the earth where the sun
falls from the sky and leaves us to fend
for ourselves. The roads are slick and dark
and she has asked me to drive because her
brain is swimming in little white pills and
she trusts me more this way. The radio's on
and I love this song, and I roll the lyrics
around on my tongue and try to absorb
something, but I am as flat as the asphalt
and the music slides off me like rain. Her
world is a kaleidoscope, I can tell, and her
eyes are wide. I drive carefully and smoke
quietly and try to think of things that will
keep my lungs inflated, my head above water,
just until the last bell rings. I have nine
pills in my pocket, and I can breathe.
Sometimes these pills are white and long and stick in my throat like guilt, but not really. Sometimes they are blue and round and impossibly small, smaller than you'd ever think. You don't know, but you think you do. You're worried, I know, but you don't know what
When the walls fall quiet.Rain makes me want to write to you,When the walls fall quiet. in Free Verse More Like This
to tell you the things I should have said five months ago,
five years ago,
when we were younger and weaker and it didn't hurt so much to breathe.
We weren't happy even then, and I was too young to know the difference.
Do you ever think we're growing up too fast?
When we're smoking behind stores
and drinking to sleep
and buying drugs from the boys who tried to love me
but got burned along the way.
They don't know we're still children, and neither do we.
We drive too fast and talk too much and drink until we die,
but god, tonight I do not want to die.
Tonight I do not want to fall asleep as the ceiling reads me poetry
and the trees outside call my name.
I want to dream again,
I want to see the future as I sleep and know that tomorrow
I will not wake up with razors slid down my side
and the life licked out of my veins.
I want to know that someday
I will not have to lie and say I'm feeling fine,
that the lights will not blind me and the sounds will not p
Fading light.Our voices could carry these heavy autumn clouds away, but we are silent and still, trying to get lost in time. We sit in my sun bleached living room, watching the seasons change like the color of your eyes. Leaves fall like grotesque tear drops, like nature's final salute to hope. The leaves are falling and I'm watching you change and the music that once was so strong lays silent. I wouldn't recognize it if I heard it again.Fading light. in Urban & Spoken Word More Like This
Today, I am sober for the first time in weeks and I wake up alone in my little room. It is cold and damp in a way that hurts my bones, so I keep the blinds closed, pretending that this filtered light will stain my walls gold again, like it used to. There is something dull and modern about the world now, like draining pictures of their sepia tones, yet insisting they're still magical memories. There's something false in all of this. Time passes, I can feel it slipping through my hair, but somehow in the past few months I've lost the ability to read time. I could be
Schizoaffectivia.1.Schizoaffectivia. in Free Verse More Like This
Its hard to talk to you without
my hands shaking and my laugh
coming out all wrong because
you see everything and nothing
and I dont know what flaw youre
going to pick up on today.
Yesterday it was my raw fingernails
and my free broken skin.
Cait, youre destroying your hands,
are you trying to hurt yourself?
And I laugh and deny it and wait
until youre not looking, to sit on my
hands and hide the destruction.
You tell me you want to help those
who are hurting, and talk to the
people who need help, but youre
never one to find the beauty
in a broken thing, only the hope
in waiting to be fixed.
And in your eyes, Ive gone from
beautiful to mere anticipation.
I think it bothers you that Ive come
to terms with being something
gone beyond repair.
And Im tiredtiredtired always
so tired but sleep isnt really
an option anymore, so instead I
stay awake writing poems about
things I dont understand, th
Foreign minds.She doesn't understand me when I speak because I take the words she knows and give them new meaning to describe how my heart is beating, how my mind is turning. They've never meant anything else to me, but she is lost and I don't know what else to say.Foreign minds. in Free Verse More Like This
When I was younger, car rides with my mother were my gateway to the meaning of life. As the trees few past she told me how it felt to have your heart break to let someone destroy it, destroy you. I was privileged, she said, because she grew up alone, with a fairy take stepmom and a coked out dad, I never knew pain the way she did, I never had to. She would pat my leg enough to make me wince, but it was never a time to complain. Nothing could ever top her stories.
It was nine days before my sixteenth birthday when the doctors told her that there was no cure, that this was just how I would be from now on, that I would live this way, in a pain she doesn't understand, with words she doesn't know. There are medications, of course, they said,
Mornings.Mornings with you taste golden, likeMornings. in Free Verse More Like This
that dawn we escaped together to
watch the sun rise from the asphalt
and burn its way down the road. And
we sat like sparrows above the dotted
yellow lines, waiting while the world
drove by and your face glowed hazel
and copper and hope. In the mornings,
when we share stories and wishes and
body heat, you feel more real to me
than anything I've ever read about,
than anything I've ever seen.
Mornings with you are hazy smiles and
soft eye lashes, like every morning I've
laid in your bed watching the dust ride
through the air on beams of light, not
having to do anything more than just be,
than just exist. Mornings when the sunlight
slowly grows along your body, and I silently
tell you secrets as you sleep. As your eyelids
flutter and the world wakes up, I wonder if
you dream of secrets I whisper, I wonder if
you're dreaming of me.
Asylum.Remember the place where we went to hide, where we went to find ourselves in darkened hallways, on empty rooftops. There, we were children who never wanted to grow up, who had grown up too fast: the children who had forgotten what it means to believe without seeing. Please, don't let me forget again.Asylum. in Free Verse More Like This
Listen: it's breathing, I swear. It's watching as we whisper, as we drag
it out of hibernation with out flashlights and footsteps through hallways
untouched. We are missing, we have disappeared here, we are on the edge
of the world carving maps into the concrete. Paint stains the walls and
someone's screaming hand cries "minds were made to be blown". There is
Information Sheet- Durarara OC.Name :: Adara [Adaraneva] StalinInformation Sheet- Durarara OC. in Short Stories More Like This
Nicknames :: Addy-chan [usually by Izaya]
Age :: Twenty-one
Hair Color :: Light-blonde, flew locks of hair flowing down the left side of her face reaching to just above her shoulder while the rest is held in a side bun that has a few strands out of place.
Eye Color :: Light rose pink.
Skin Color :: Light
Height :: 5'3
Weight :: 92 pounds.
Body Type :: Small stature, slightly curved hips and c size bust.
Blood Type :: O
Unusual Qualities/Features :: She has a crescent moon tattoo on the wrist of her right hand and a light blue clam shaped necklace around her neck. A scar on the right side of her left knee, an a scar on the side of her neck that were two extremely small scars shaped like two tiny bite marks though this was hidden by her hair. Normally has a broken necklace of blue and green beads in hair.
Online Screenname :: Lenia kasaki
Accessories: Light purple cell phone with a teddy bear and pan
HighSchool Life C.15 Amaya's POVHighSchool Life C.15 in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
I groaned as I walked down the halls, feeling kind of pissed that I couldn't find Aika after class. She went somewhere with Satoru I just knew it. The mere mentioning of his name in my mind made my hand jerk and hit the locker next to me hard. When I looked up I saw Kasume walking down the hall from her locker, looking just as depressed as I was feeling right then. Not good. And looking up I saw Kairi walking away from her locker in the opposite direction. That was even worse.
I walked over to her when she had her back against the locker door.
She jumped slightly probably didn't see me walk over.
"N-nothing" she smiled lightly at me.
"Kasume I can tell when you're lying to me"
"It's fine..really" she got up from against the locker and smiled back "I have to get to FDC now 'll call you later ok?"
I sighed back at her "Ok" and she smiled and ran off to her fashion club. I groaned again leaning back against my own locker. Could tod
MeetingI yawned stretching out my limbs restricted by my black jacket as i was leaning on the side of the tree. Boy that day was boring Casey decided we should take a break from battling, contests and stuff to just hang out with a friend. Who was seriously late.Meeting in Short Stories More Like This
"Zaya it's only been a half an hour since I called relax quit looking so bored~"
"I am bored~"
"Take some pictures of pokemon or something then~ I'm going to cook some food for when she gets here" she smiled brushing a lock of her dark blue curled hair behind her ear taking out a pokeball.
"GO LAWLIE!" she said summoning her mawile to her side. Mawlie giggled.
Casey smirked with a wooden spoon doing a fist pump "IS MY LITTLE IRON CHEF READY?"
Lawlie somehow pulled a spoon from behind her back coping Casey's movement. "Ma li li!"
Their eyes burned with passion as they held their spoons proudly. I sweat dropped behind them leaning back against the tree.
"Oh brother.." I took out my camera rested it on my
G- Their PromiseThe screeches of the bird Pokémon which soared through the skies filled the air; soft cool gentle blew against the sandy shores which shimmered under the sun’s rays. It’s Blue Ocean washing up gently against the shore. With her ocean blue eyes gazing up at the sky, Ellest smiled as she felt the wind blow against her dark brown hair, that barely touched the center of her back, a few divisions on her hair bangs that were held to the side by two white clips. She wore a white and light blue striped bikini that had a light blue wrap around her waist. Ellest loved the sound of the ocean, a sound that she spent every moment of her childhood adoring, the scent of the salt water, the sounds of the water Pokémon playing around and the feel of the warm golden sand against her soft flesh just filled her heart with love for this simple paradise.G- Their Promise in Short Stories More Like This
Everything about beaches just reminded her of her childhood, the memories of her grandmother and mother forming little surpri
Festival of Night. Zaya's PovFestival of Night. in Short Stories More Like This
I sighed as we walked brushing a lock of my black hair behind my right ear, almost getting it hooked to my black cross earring.
"I feel so empty without my other pokemon" I groaned only to have Reese and Vance sigh with me.
"I know what you mean" they both groaned.
Pastoria city was having a festival with an awesome pokemon contest and the winner would have gotten a wicked new motor bike. I didn't expect to meet Reese again, he just keeps popping up everywhere but this time he had his friend Vance with him. It wasn't till the contests announced one of its rules that we decided to have a truce.
I looked down at the silver pokeball in my hand marked with the contest seal. That rule was to prove how much of a trainer you were and go out into the forest and capture a ghost pokemon before tomorrow and then you'll be permitted to enter the competition but it had a catch, you were only allowed one pokemon along with you.
I knew this great p
G-Christmas Scars Aika's POVG-Christmas Scars in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
Sometimes I can't believe myself I have three alarm clocks in my room that all went off but I still overslept, I mean seriously you would think being in college would make me more responsible nope just makes me more sleepy, Amaya's going to kill me. I started picking up pace while running knowing that I had a least a little chance of making it only 15 minutes late. I almost fell tripping on the cold sidewalks that were covered in snow Christmas lights hung over the entire campus. I turned the corner finally reaching the correct dorm house, it killed me that I didn't get to room with any of my friends stupid board administrators . Before I even opened the door it flung open.
Amaya's eye twitched but I must say she look really good, I know it was Christmas eve and all so it would be normal to wear green or red nope she was wearing a black top that had one sleeve a little longer than the other one, a jingle bell chocker and tight short dark blue jeans.
Teddy Chat prt 2I don't know what to do anymore" I held on to Fefe as tight as I could sinkingTeddy Chat prt 2 in Short Stories More Like This
myself into my chair. "Should I forgive her?"
I looked around at the office, looking around at the different tables, pictures,
a certificate then coming to a slight realization that I didn't know Yoichi was
so smart, I mean yeah he was my doctor but he can be goofy sometimes.
I stumbled a bit as I leaned forward looking at him smile at me with his ocean
blue eyes, then he sighed laying back into his own chair as I looked down. I
couldn't look at him in the eyes anymore after the guilt trip he gave me about
cutting myself, almost like he wasn't doing his job, that he wasn't helping me
with my problems but he did but, when I did it I was feeling low, lower than I
ever felt before and I had to get rid of the pain somehow and I did with physical
"It's obvious your hurting because of her maybe instead of cutting you can
forgive her to take away your pain"
I looked up at him and sighed "I-I can't she
CE- With You Glancing out the window she smiled as she admired winter's white cold blanket as it covered the streets, trees, buildings of Snowpoint City all around her. She giggled slightly to herself as she saw the children and their parents making snowpokemon in the white soft snow. Though through the seemingly adorable and sweet scenery, Mae couldn't help but whimper at the pain the crept into her heart as she thought of the countless Christmas's that were spent without her parents.CE- With You in Short Stories More Like This
Not that she didn't love and enjoy those special Christmas moments with her loving grandparents, she couldn't help but wonder, as her dark brown almost black eyes stared slightly at the toddler being held her by her much taller father as she placed the scarf around the snow Pikachu's neck and a top hat on his head, she wondered what those days would have been like if they had been spent with her parents instead. They were always so busy, making money off the very things she consider her closest friends
HighSchool Life Chapter 9 Kasume's POVHighSchool Life Chapter 9 in Introductions & Chapters More Like This
"Nee-chan" I heard ringing in my ear, I got up and brushed a lock of my blonde hair behind my ear and smiled.
"Hey Kai" I ruffled his brown spiky hair and he grinned at me. "What's up"
"Shi-chan is outside"
"WAHH" I jumped out of my bed when I saw the time. 7:59. I overslept? I Guess the dance really wore me out. The guy I went with he was nice and a good person to talk to but , not really the person I wanted to go with. I got up and got ready then ran downstairs and looked out the window, seeing Shisou leaning against the car door, I smiled at myself then moved from the window to get Kai some breakfast. I walked past the living room to see my mother asleep on the couch with two bottles of sage on the floor and three on the counter in front of the chair. I took a blue bed sheet and place it over her then kissed her cheek. I love my mom, despite her obvious problem, Amaya think that me and Kai would live with our Aunt but
G-Christmas Gifts"NO WAY!"G-Christmas Gifts in Short Stories More Like This
"Please it's Christmas and that would make me very happy" Matsuda said with a smirk.
"NO" Aika yelled.
"Please I'm sure every guy would love that idea"
All the other guys blushed and looked to a corner blushing,.
"Babies" Matsuda groaned.
"Lap dances don't celebrate Christmas Matsuda..perv" Yuiko joked as she shoved a pop into her mouth.
I chuckled and Ria smirked while the other guys laughed.
Amaya sighed at us. "Shall we just get to gift exchange please "
"YES PLEASE" All the girls shouted this part of the convo wasn't even the grossest most of the guys kept raising the topic about "how they think the best way to make a guy blush is to give them a blow job topic" after Amaya complained about not getting some of these guys to blush. Well she's never bring up that topic again.
"Ok first gift, Merry Christmas Nii-san" Yuiko cheered. She looked so beautiful with her Santa Claus hat and long sleeve purple top and black pants. She hugged him and he grinned.
SwingKurt tied his apron one with care, making sure there were no stains on it in the mirror, then straightening his bowtie one last time.Swing in General Fiction More Like This
"You're shift starts soon, Hummel!" called his boss from his office just inside the kitchens. Kurt grinned and waved to Mr. Jameson.
"I'm on it, boss," he said, grabbing a towel and a tray full of empty glasses to start placing on the tables. When Kurt exited the kitchens and entered the dinning room of the restaurant, a few of the other busboys and waiters were setting up for the night time rush. Kurt started to put two or three glasses on each table and folding napkins that had yet to be done yet.
On the stage, which was at the front of the large dinning room, there was a few men milling around and setting up a mic stand. Some of the boys that supervised the talent that played every night at the restaurant were taking to a short young man who smiled and nodded a lot.
Kurt paused and looked at the man, probably around Kurt's own age. His suit, a cool bl
Love, A Simple Duty Chapter 2Before Kurt transferred to Dalton Academy for boys, he had attended Jefferson, which was much nearer to his house. It was a relatively large school, with over 50 students in attendance. It was a secondary school, which was somewhat unusual for their time for so many to attend. Many of the classmates that Kurt had been with since grade school at quit school a few years ago to go to work.Love, A Simple Duty Chapter 2 in Fan Fiction More Like This
Jefferson was filled with young people whose parents wanted them to have more education, and in fact, usually went on to a university.
Which is why Kurt was always surprised when David Karofsky always showed up to classes everyday.
To be far, Karofsky wasn't the idiot boy he always seemed to be when in the halls, usually terrifying other students. He wasn't stupid or slow, in fact, he did rather well in school, but it still didn't help that he was a bully.
Kurt had been a part of the school's choir, which included a handful of the boys from Jefferson and also some young women from the girls' school acro
Kiss and Make Up"Where did Rachel go?"Kiss and Make Up in Fan Fiction More Like This
Kurt looked up from his cup of coffee. Blaine was standing by the table, his medium drip in his hand.
"She said that having a relationship with a gay man was a premium writing muse an left. After kissing me - on the cheek thankfully. I swear, that girl just wants to kiss every man she sees."
"Oh." Blaine said. He was still standing, looking at the chair across from Kurt with a frown.
Kurt sighed. "You can sit down."
"Thanks," said Blaine, pulling out the chair and sitting. He fixed his medium drip how he liked it, licking the stirrer before putting it on the table. Kurt eyes follows his strong looking hands as he did this, then the way his tongue showed when he licked the stirrer.
Kurt shuddered. Sexual frustration wasn't anything he particularly enjoyed.
"So Kurt," said Blaine in a soft voice, calling Kurt's attention away from Blaine's hands. "I just I wanted to " Blaine's eyes were deep and downcast. Kurt was distressed that he cou
CANNABLAINE?Kurt sat in the Warbler practice room at the piano, waiting for Blaine to show up. They had a duet to practice for and he still had yet to arrive.CANNABLAINE? in Fan Fiction More Like This
Kurt's hand played the piano lazily, messing up a few of the notes as he sang the duet softly, by himself.
"I think that possibly, maybe I'm falling for you
Yes there's a chance that I've fallen quite hard over you.
I've seen the paths that your eyes wander down
I want to come too "
Blaine opened the door of the practice room slowly, making sure it didn't make a sound. Kurt's back was too him, his shoulders and his shoulder blades moving lithely under his jacket as his hands moved over the piano keys.
Slipping through the door as soundlessly as he could, Blaine grinned, tip-toeing over to Kurt, who was singing their duet.
"No one understands me quite like you do
Through all of the shadowy corners of me
I never knew just what it was
About this old coffee shop I love so much
All of the while I never knew "
Blaine was ri
Beat ItThe McKinley High gym was filled with students and parents alike. Tonight was the first performance of Sue's Cheerios since the disastrous try at Regionals and getting her budget cut. Without three of her best Cheerios, she was still going to have her monthly Cheerio performance, which was always open to the public.Beat It in Fan Fiction More Like This
Half of the people there were there be supportive and see a Cheerio's routine.
The other half were there to see Sue crash and burn.
Which is why the New Directions Glee club had front row seats to tonight's event.
"Why are we driving all the way from Dalton to see the cheerleaders at your former school perform?" asked Blaine as they walked through the empty halls of McKinley. "And isn't their coach now coaching our competition for Regionals?"
Kurt huffed. "Look, I'm friends with a lot of the Cheerios still on the squad. They wanted me to be there for them tonight." He shrugged.
"That's nice of you," said Blaine with a smile. Kurt smiled back.
"Porcelain!" Kurt looked up and
Devil Wears GleeBlaine waited outside the classroom awkwardly, rocking from one foot to another. His eyes drifted to the door every few moments, then his watch. He sighed and leaned up against the wall.Devil Wears Glee in Fan Fiction More Like This
"Blaine, dear, please straighten up."
He jumped and suddenly his mother was there, rushing through the door, her silver hair in its place despite her brisk pace. Blaine reached up and touched his own hair self-consciously. He had been gelling it since he started Dalton he hoped it was ok.
"Where is your father?" asked his mother looking down the hall. "I swear, is it so hard to come to a parent teacher conference on time?"
"Hi mom," said Blaine quietly.
"Hi, sweetie," she said, leaning down to kiss his cheeks. She was already pulling out her phone and hitting speed dial 2. "Emily. Where is my ex-husband? He was suppose to be at Dalton ten minutes ago. He does not have the excuse I have for being late. I had to run out of a meeting with Calvin of all people and fly from New York, I swear, the incom
The OneBlaine felt like he was a lost puppy. A little Chihuahua, shaking and yelping after its master. In this case, his master was Kurt, and it wasn't so much of a following thing, as it was a killer crush.The One in Fan Fiction More Like This
The thing was, Blaine had told himself that Kurt needed a friend more than he needed a boyfriend. He needed someone to talk to about the things he was going through that could really understand, uncomplicated by dating.
That and, despite what many people assumed about him, he had very little experience in the dating area. He had been bullied mercilessly at his old school and had been one of the only gay guys there. The others didn't want to get involved with him, because they didn't want to be outed, too.
He had gotten a kiss once, at a summer camp two years ago, but that was the other guy who initiated it. He was super confident and very handsome. Of course, Blaine had never heard from him after that summer.
So even though he would love to jump at the chance to ask Kurt out and just kiss
Dancing in the MoonlightPrologue - (Written by MiryahDancing in the Moonlight in Romance More Like This
Excerpts from the journal of B. Anderson, navigator of the Audition, recorded during his voyage to Antarctica:
The journey had been uneventful (surprisingly so when considering the interesting individuals sailing on the two small ships of our expedition,) until we hit a block just south of the Valkyrie dome. After Captain Lopez made some decidedly daring decisions we found ourselves under the surface of the ice in a network of tunnels. They seemed to be leading into our desired direction, and if geologist Jones did make a remark of the way they also sloped gently but firmly downwards, no one paid mind.
After a six-hour journey saw light at the end of the tunnel and rushed towards it. We came to a large cave, where an underground lake laid before us, and across itacross the lake stood a city, a castle or a citadel, of shining ice.
But nothing we found, not the glorious city of ice, the thriving people or the massive amoun
Only Safe PlaceKurt hadn't seen it coming. He had been walking to his car, taking the short cut through the back of the school, and suddenly he was being pulled by rough arms.Only Safe Place in Fan Fiction More Like This
Kurt found himself pushed up against a wall so hard his head spun. Kurt saw that there was a group of about five jocks in front of him. Azimio was the one holding him against a wall. The look on his face made Kurt's blood run cold.
Azimio said things that Kurt, even with all the bullying he had experience, had never heard before. The words tore through his heart like bullets.
And then the first fist landed in Kurt's face. Then another in his stomach. Azimio's hands had left his shoulders and Kurt felt to the ground, gasping for air. He was wheezing, breathless from the punch, but also the shock.
Kurt had never actually been punched before. Slushies in his face? Of course. Thrown into the dumpster? All the time, though not lately. And the daily shoves into the lockers? Duh. But punched never.
"Fag," hissed Azimio. The other
If I Had You"Seriously man, you play guitar, too?"If I Had You in Fan Fiction More Like This
"Yeah, I have for almost five years," answered Blaine, a little flustered at the attention that Puck was giving him. The mohawked boy was giving him a nod of approval though, so it wasn't exactly bad attention.
"That's cool, man. We should jam some time," Puck said and Blaine nodded. It was kind of thrilling. Blaine had hoped he would make friends with the rest of New Directions, since he now attended McKinley. But making friends could sometimes be easier said than done.
"And you play piano?" asked Artie, who was sitting on the other side of Blaine. "I mean, you played it for your audition last week."
Blaine thought back to his audition for New Directions. It was a week ago, at the beginning of the new school year. For some reason, Blaine was actually nervous. He had performed countless solos with the Warblers, but he was nervous for some dinky audition that was really just a formality; everyone got into New Directions.
He had chosen a top 40 song
Everything I CherishedI once hoped that I couldEverything I Cherished in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
Love you above all others
But the stench of his house
Already clung to your hair
I implored, I begged:
"Sweet angel, you must
fly on home. Leave this place,
before he completely infiltrates."
You shook your head
With conviction and said:
"You know, rent control is killing me.
All these landlords grilling me
on where I am and who I'm with,
and before I leave,
won't I do just one more thing?
And I find it unintentionally funny
that even though I am paying
good money to be left alone,
this is never really a home,
just somewhere to live.
But I know no other way.
Where he goes, I go too."
I suppose it's just another thing you 'need'
Yet another way for your heart to bleed
Looking back on
Everything I cherished,
I can't believe you didn't realize
All that you were squandering
So many friends lining up to nourish
Before the last time I saw you,
You took my cheeks in your palms:
"Have you ever looked directly
at a man and thought:
'When on a clear winter night
A RetrospectiveI will best remember my youth asA Retrospective in Free Verse More Like This
too much fast food,
piles of bills and tickets,
and uncertainty over who
(let alone how)
I will best remember my parents
as incredible blessings,
how I remained afloat,
and quite possibly insane.
I will not remember you
except in those moments I'd rather not admit:
when mere mention of your name
(never mind how many men share it)
will cause my head to snap up and
my ears to flex and
my heart to sink.
I will not remember you
except on my birthday,
I will not remember you
except if I ever get married
or adopt a child
or visit France
Looking Forward to Letting GoYour name,Looking Forward to Letting Go in Free Verse More Like This
I once dwelt upon
At least umpteenth times a day
Often accompanied by chest pain,
Remorse over freely feeding
Lies to all the rest
Sometimes with disdain,
Especially when related
Tales of breathless excess:
Warm things peppered
With fond memories
Of thoroughly crude jokes
And divine drinks at dinner
And missing an element
I was eventually reminded
Is distributed to thousands
Reliable to sour a response
And clear a dogged mind
Your name, and the enigma
Affiliated with it,
At the end, when I've accepted,
It's all I'll need
The Big ThingsExcuse me for placing stock in joyThe Big Things in Songs & Lyrics More Like This
And believing certain things
Hoarding abandoned hopes and dreams
Forgotten wishes and silver rings
So what if I plan my own epiphanies and revelations?
Sometimes fate is a disappointment
Sometimes chance leaves one wanting more
And I'd rather save myself the regret
If my output
Really is all the same to you
Just hold your tongue, then!
'Coz I'm gonna keep doing what I do
I can't really deal with the big things
My mind won't wrap around them
But I'm good with the little moments
That don't seem to mean all that much
When they add up
They define who we are
I'm no good with building alternate realities
I don't ever think that completely
But I can create a real person
Who fits perfectly into the imagination
And who justifies a reason for its' existance
Someone you see bits of yourself in
If my output
Really is all the same to you
Just hold your tongue, then!
'Coz I'm gonna keep doing what I do
If my reasoning
Is what makes you act so crude
I'll find someon
PopularityEven with my star ascendingPopularity in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
I feel the need to keep pretending
That you awe me
And how could you not?
You are the sun, I am the moon
You are the source of the illusion
I provide my own illumination
You are gracious
In your aid of this deception;
Even today, proven wrong,
Public secrets still inspire
What kind of fool would I be
Not to sit at your feet
Devouring every scrap of wisdom
Rolling off your proud chin?
It all makes perfect sense,
It pisses me off nonetheless
Maybe if I found a reason
Blather on and on about my turmoil,
I could reach the pinnacle
Wear the crown like you before me
If I also chronicle every thought
That enters and infects my mind;
What would I mean to you if I
Forced myself to agree with your views?
I know you fancy yourself a reporter
On all this very painful emotion
Eating away at your stomach
But you need an internal editor
I suppose it's too much to ask
To only write what demands
To be kept behind a mask
The Glare and the ChokeMirrors for critics:The Glare and the Choke in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
Prepare obsess and anguish,
Warm prayers to impress;
But then vocal chords splinter
And the limelight blights my talent.
Question for a Botanistfamiliar drought,Question for a Botanist in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
with circumstance wondering:
what's always wilting?
which leafy stem of psyche
always needed hydration?
BelovedsA truth I've been shockedBeloveds in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
with every day since birth: they
don't give like they should.
The Imperialistan empire forged fromThe Imperialist in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
yielding flesh; we're under his
sphere of influence
Balls of PaperThere are dozens of crumpled up littleBalls of Paper in Free Verse More Like This
Balls of paper at the bottom of my pockets
I never learned how to organize my thoughts
So I stab them onto whatever scraps are nearby
There's purple notebook pieces
With blue lines,
And some basic yellow
And a few paycheck stubs
And backs of receipts
They almost all include
Even at my most disjointed,
I crave a little order,
To make sense of it all
Even the dust on the bookshelves
In my room at home
Is organized in neat little rows
A few ideas, though, aren't perfect
Because sometimes things can make me
Angry, sad, or happy,
That I cannot remember
How to write in English
When I re-read it all, I find:
A few phrases in
My useless, halting Hungarian,
A word or two in French or Japanese,
And even a few forgotten letters,
Like the E in "beautiful"
When I am so... anything:
Angry, sad, or happy,
I can't remember who I am
The EndThe truth does not change according to our ability to stomach it.- Flannery O'ConnorThe End in Drama More Like This
The Chantry is gone, they are surrounded by the bodies of Templars and Sebastian is seething.
"Well? What are you waiting for?" Sebastian says.
August Hawke shakes his head and turns away from Anders. "I'm not killing him."
"Hawke, you can't let him live. Not after what he's done."
"Yes, I can."
With that one statement, Sebastian flies into a rage. "No. You cannot let this abomination live or I am returning to Starkhaven." He narrows his eyes and steps closer to Hawke. "And I will bring such an army on my return that there will be nothing left of Kirkwall for these maleficarum to rule."
Hawke glares back. "Then go Sebastian."
Sebastian falters, then steps back. "I'll not fight you Hawke." He sighs. "But I swear to you, I will come back and find your precious Anders. I will teach him the meaning of
DA2: GiftsGiftsDA2: Gifts in General Fiction More Like This
It started out small enough, bugs in his slippers that he would find almost every morning when slipping them on. It never fails to send him scrambling over to Anders' side of the bed, crashing into the mage and waking him. Of course it's always the nights that Anders does get some sleep and is not bothered by Grey Warden dreams, never the nights when both are awoken several times.
The cat is never far away, looking proud of her accomplishment. Hawke is unimpressed, while Anders coos, coos over dead worms, and tells the cat what a clever kitty she is. Hawke mutters something under his breath, leaves Anders with the cat and takes his slippers to Bodahn yet again for washing.
He's never quite sure just how Whiskers has managed to get out, Anders has told him not to let her out just yet. He's checked the windows, checked the Darktown entrance, all of them are locked and really there shouldn't be any way
DA2: One At a TimeWhen Kirkwall burns for a second time and calls upon its Champion, August Hawke can't bring himself to care.DA2: One At a Time in Drama More Like This
His lover is gone, sent away without argument, that still hurts to think about. It's strange to fight without Anders by his side, covering him, providing extra spells and watching out for the party. It's been so long, too long since anyone had relied on him to heal their wounds. He has always been the one to cover their charge or shatter a bandit with a well timed spell. He doesn't even remember the last time he's had to heal anyone. Ah, wait, yes he does. In Lothering, with Aveline.
She stands beside him now, still by his side after all these years and become like an older sister. A very pushy older sister who could kick his arse, but near enough family all the same. He tries not to look at her, doesn't see the concern in her gaze while he quaffs another lyrium potion and rains fire down on
DA2: BlameIt's a sinking feeling, the gut reaction that something is seriously wrong when Uncle Gamlen comes to find him.DA2: Blame in General Fiction More Like This
It should've been his mother coming to see him, this was her normal day for visiting. Gamlen never came to visit, not since they moved out of his house and August bought the Amell estate for Mother. Show off git. Still, it made her happy at least, who was he to argue with that?
Gamlen asks to see him alone, that sinking feeling grows worse. Perhaps Mother is just ill, that's why she's not there and Uncle Gamlen is. But surely it would've been August to tell him that. No, there has to be something wrong, and as he finds a quiet part of the Gallows where they won't be disturbed, he begins to dread just what Gamlen has to tell him.
"Your mother's dead. I'm sorry, lad..." Of all the things Carver thought it could've been, this was the last. He doesn't hear any more after that. Mothe
DA2: WoundedWoundedDA2: Wounded in General Fiction More Like This
In general, August Hawke wasn't one to panic. Most of the time. Keeping his head when all about lose theirs, and all that. However, when Anders goes down during battle, it's enough to send him flying into a panic.
The day is not the best one. Merrill asks him to go and see her, then proceeds to show him a killer mirror and asks that he go with her to see the Keeper. He resolves to hear what Marethari has to say first, then decide on whether or not to help Merrill, despite the warning bells that chime at the mention of 'killer mirror'. Anders voices his disagreement, that it's madness to consider helping her and that nothing good can come of it. He's in part agreement, but sticks to his decision.
Things go from bad to worse when Merrill does speak to the Keeper and they're tasked with killing a Varterral. Whatever that is.
The hunting ground is nearby and littered wi
DA2: EscapeHe's made a mistake is all he can think. An awful, awful mistake. Mage and Templar alike lie dead, it drives First Enchanter Orsino to despair. His last resort, rather than to let Meredith take him, is one not even August Hawke can predict.DA2: Escape in Drama More Like This
The worst part perhaps, is that it is born of Quentin's research, the mage who took his mother and those other women. That is enough to make him doubt his choice, that maybe Meredith is right, maybe they are all in at blood magic. He shouldn't think that, shouldn't think of it as a possibility. It's not true.
The creature that Orsino becomes, a mass of flesh, too many arms, feelers, a large mouth. He takes a few steps back away from it, doesn't want to look at it, doesn't want to see what the First Enchanter has become, how he's fallen.
He readies his staff, nods for the others to get ready, then dives when Orsino...the creature c
DA2: ClaimedHe's never liked Lowtown, liked it even less when he had to live there with Uncle Gamlen. He's only there to pick up some herbs and visit Merrill.DA2: Claimed in General Fiction More Like This
He notices it when he's wandering the market in Lowtown, errands done and killing time until Anders meets him there. It's a small ball of fur, dashing out every so often in between people's feet and almost gets kicked out the way. He tries to ignore it, he has a dog, Damian won't take to it, and continues valiantly trying to ignore it even when it's attacking his bootlaces. It gives up with those and simply follows him, meowing all the way.
"No, I don't hear you," Hawke tells the cat. His plan of ignoring it is failing badly. "You can follow me all you like, but I'm not paying attention to you. I'm not."
The kitten doesn't pay much attention to what he's saying either and it continues to follow him.
"Look, you'd hate it. I have a dog, h
DA2: The One Who Never GrievesThe One Who Never GrievesDA2: The One Who Never Grieves in Drama More Like This
August Hawke wasn't one for crying.
When Bethany died, he didn't shed a tear, instead he threw fireballs, slaughtered darkspawn and argued with Carver all the way to Kirkwall. By the time they'd reached the City of Chains, both Aveline and Leandra had been ready for tossing the brothers overboard. Hawke probably would've done it himself, if he thought he could've gotten away with it.
When Leandra disappears, the doubts begin to invade Hawke's mind, whether he should've killed Gascard DuPuis. Perhaps he knew something after all, perhaps he knew the killer. However the sight of the woman, Alyssa, her terror. On seeing that, he acted, impulsively probably, as he always did. Gascard ran, Hawke followed him and ran straight into shades, a Desire demon and a blocked door. Maker damn it.
He'd thought to take the mage on alone, thought it might've made things easier if he w
DA2: DuelDuelDA2: Duel in Drama More Like This
Undoubtedly, what August Hawke will be remembered for, is taking on the Arishok of the Qunari alone. Whether it's remembered in a favourable way or not, it would depend on who was asked.
Ask the people of Kirkwall and they'll call him a hero, deserved of his title of Champion. Ask Anders and he'll call him a damn fool.
It is chaos when he enters the Viscount's keep. The Viscount is dead, his severed head a gory trophy lying in the middle of the floor. The Arishok stands at the stairs, his Qunari filling the room, the people terrified and huddle together. Hawke pushes the doors open, strides in, trying to appear unafraid when all he wants to do is run. A room full of Qunari, an angry Arishok and no relic to hand over. As if it can't get any worse than this.
They all look at him, the people in the room, like he's going to save them. He doesn't know what to do, doesn't know what
DA2: ChoiceChoiceDA2: Choice in General Fiction More Like This
It's a few days after Carver has visited that Aveline asks to see him. He hopes it's more work, if only for the distraction.
He leaves Anders at the clinic, he doubts he'll need him even if it is more work dealing with slavers or whatever else turns up. He wanders into the Viscount's Keep, gives Donnic a nod of greeting. He's still awkward around the man after Aveline and the whole debacle with setting them up. Something he'll not forget in a hurry and will continue to tease Aveline about.
Donnic points to the office and he pushes it open without so much as knocking. She'll probably scold him for that. She notices him, stands up from her desk and comes over to him, pulls him into a hug. Holy Maker something's wrong. In all the time he's known Aveline, she's never been one to suddenly hug someone. She lets him go a moment later, shuts the door behind h
So this is how Jack Sparrow felt.StrandedSo this is how Jack Sparrow felt. in Traditional Fixed Forms More Like This
with a bottle,
talking to pigeons.
Does hair really make a good rope?
Trail BlazingOrigami starsTrail Blazing in Haiku & Eastern More Like This
trail fires across dark skies;
the autumn solstice.
There is No 'Gentle' ModeSoiled carpet. Crawling.There is No 'Gentle' Mode in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
Your lovemaking? Appalling.
Just promise to never wait.He sprays spit when he talks, his hands slicing the air with soft pops as he babbles in Greek (or something similarly foreign to your ears) about molecules and amoebas and cyanide because the half-sick smile plastered to your face means you must be listening. You must be intrigued. The two slices of lamb you just swallowed is weighing down on your bladder and sweat is dripping down your spine but you were raised to never be rude and it would be rude to interrupt him, you just know that it would be, so you fidget in your seat. You keep your mouth shut.Just promise to never wait. in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
He's moved on to jokes by the time dessert has arrived and he's got a way of stopping awkwardly, abruptly, just before the punch line, as if he expects you to fling yourself from your seat and exclaim it before he does. When you don't, he smiles nervously and sprays the table with more spit as he rushes to the end, his tongue going what must be one-twenty while your brain is still
Flutter in the MorningLost in poetryFlutter in the Morning in Visual & Found Poetry More Like This
I'm nothing, but a boxed butterfly
made a memory of me.
And I Guess it was My DownfallThat's how we met, don't you remember? There were five o'clock shadows in my eyes and you were mid-swing in hyper mode and for a brief ten seconds, the whole world stopped around us when you met my gaze. And that's how I fell, I guess. You raced back up the stairs you'd just tumbled down and I spent the evening doing my best to impress you though I had yet to learn your name. And I'm no longer sure if it was the constellations above us or the music notes in your eyes or just that I was feeling lonely, but something in you called to me that night. Something in you screamed, and I fell to my knees to answer it.And I Guess it was My Downfall in Emotional More Like This
That's where we began, you see. You had eyes the shade of the sky before a storm and I didn't see you for months after you rejected my offer to dance, but I heard of you from a friend. She didn't say much but her "He likes you, you know?" reminded me why I forgot about the disco-ball necklace and the ways
To Whom it May ConcernMy dear, lucky discoverer:To Whom it May Concern in Free Verse More Like This
If you have stumbled unknowingly
upon his bruised and battered heart,
then you have found yourself a Heaven
that even angels would kill to fly into.
He will, if you so choose to let him,
sweep you off your steady feet
and into arms strong of caring
and tender with love.
He shall raise you to the tenth power of laughs,
keeping your face alight with
a smile a minute
and your veins swimming in
blood cells that are drowning in joy.
He will do whatever he can
to chase your sadness away
and fill your skies with brilliant sunshine
and golden rays of happy bliss.
True to his word,
he will attempt to hold you forever,
fearing the loss of your company
above and beyond all other things.
He will not hurt you purposefully,
because to bring pain to one he cherishes so dearly
would be equivalent of killing his own soul.
Never would he leave you behind
to choke on dusty memories or particles of tears.
Nor would he ever
take you for granted,
even if it takes him decades
Anthropomorphism for BeginnersI found Grandma on the street todayAnthropomorphism for Beginners in Free Verse More Like This
reborn as a rock.
I didn't recognize her at first
without her turquoise-rim glasses
or her always-falling-out-in-public teeth;
she was standing in the gutter on her bald,
Mom tells me Grandma's gone to nag God into slaughtering spiders
and taking the farts out of vegetables,
but if you squint your eyes and tilt your head,
you can see Grandma's crooked nose--
the one that she broke
playing badminton last year--
and the way her eyes crinkle at the corners
when she talks about cheating
to beat me at checkers.
And it's just like Grandma to come back as a rock;
Mom's always called her a stubborn old crook,
and it looks like Grandma's holding a bag of stolen money
under her billowing Hippie-Days shirt sleeves
if you turn her just slightly to the right.
I think I'm gonna keep her in my bedroom.
Just in case.
Incant and Deduct Part 6The next morning John is in a fairly good mood when he first opens his eyes and is met with a room bathed with late autumn sun. Mondays means extra time in bed as he doesn't have to haul himself off for an early breakfast before Quidditch practice. Then he remembers the events of the previous evening and his good mood dissipates somewhat.Incant and Deduct Part 6 in Short Stories More Like This
Not that there was anything particularly distressing about his interview with Mycroft Holmes. Even though he'd been collected by a frankly eerie looking assistant (pointy face, stick thin to the point of being a broom handle, that straight blonde hair that marked her out immediately as former Slytherin fodder, immaculate white robes that John would manage to get dirty by simply looking at them if he were the one forced to wear them) and taken on a frankly baffling tour through back corridors, side passages, courtyards and possibly even a fourth dimension or three until they reached the room Mycroft had appropriated for their 'lit
Incant and Deduct Part 5 SH HPIt occurs to Sherlock while hurtling down the corridor, that he and John didn't even have to exchange a look before they started sprinting in the direction of the screaming. That probably meant something; either that they were completely in tune with each other or equally barmy enough to run towards potential danger.Incant and Deduct Part 5 SH HP in Short Stories More Like This
They found the source of the scream on one of the main corridors; surprisingly it was Rachel Howells, the vindictive little idiot who'd nearly killed John last year. Unsurprisingly she was overacting, Sherlock could see it as he and John round the corner and jog towards the small group that was slowly forming around her.
The scream was in response to a message, daubed on the wall, in what looks suspiciously like blood. Much too suspiciously like blood. Sherlock is itching to get a sample of the stuff.
"Oh god..." John whispers under his breath as he reads the message. Sherlock can't help reflecting the sentiment in his own mind. Not because he thought for one mo
Incant and Deduct Part 3 SH HPIncantations and Deductions Chapter 3-In which the author discovers 'plot'Incant and Deduct Part 3 SH HP in Short Stories More Like This
Whispering started early on the Thursday morning. Carl Powers, second year Hufflepuff, had never made it to his common room or dormitory the night before. At first Sherlock didn't think much of it; kids were always getting lost. Still, it was usually the first years who took wrong turns on the staircases or got led astray by some of the cheekier ghosts. A second year, missing all night was not unprecedented, but it still wasn't normal.
By first break the whispers had increased, become distorted and salacious as long hours passed and Carl had not returned with a bashful smile or delivered to the infirmary with some minor injury.
"Someone saw him going down to the lake, is what I heard. He's a swimmer, you know...."
"I heard he's been visiting the head of Hufflepuff loads and he went to see the headmaster the other day. Wonder what that's about?"
"His parents were splitting up..."
"There are an awful lot of corrid
Incant and Deduct Part 2 SH HPIncantations and Deductions Chapter 2 (BBC Sherlock/ Harry Potterverse)Incant and Deduct Part 2 SH HP in Short Stories More Like This
Even though Sherlock was fairly assured of his new friendship with John Watson he didn't expect John to come and talk to him at breakfast in the Great Hall on Monday morning. John only ate breakfast at the same time as other students four days out of seven, as the Gryffindor Quidditch team practiced on Sundays, Tuesdays and Fridays before lessons. Usually John would eat his breakfast and then chat with his (many) friends in Gryffindor or read whatever the owl had brought him.
Today though John sits down on the bench next to Sherlock, still eating a round of toast with jam, a cheerful "Good morning" mumbled around the bread. Sherlock is so surprised he closes the book he's reading (Brewing Charmed Possets from Everyday Kitchen Ingredients by Delilah Smythe) without marking the page.
"Morning." Sherlock replies. He's is acutely aware that all the students around them, particularly those sitting by the spot
Incant and Deduct 7A moment of rather baited silence hangs in the air after that particular revelation.Incant and Deduct 7 in Short Stories More Like This
"James. That is impossible." the headmaster states in a voice that is both soothing and balks no argument.
"It is! He said he was James and I should call him Jim and that he'd help me." Boscombe's glasses have practically fogged up as he looks at the headmaster beseechingly
"I assure you, James there is no boy at this school called James Moriarty." the headmaster says.
Sherlock's head whips round to the headmaster as Boscombe gasps. The old man's expression betrays nothing, but the skin around his eyes is tight, as if he is pained by something.
Surprisingly, it is Greg Lestrade who pipes up first. "But he could have been using a fake name, maybe? What did he look like, James? Had you seen him before?"
Sherlock is mutedly impressed by the older boy's ability to ask vaguely useful questions.
Boscombe shakes his head. "No...I don't think I'd seen him before. I only saw him a few times but he w
Incant and Deduct Part 8John was pretty excited about Christmas for once. Usually Christmas meant boring family occasions, Harry throwing a tantrum and eating too much. It was probably because his birthday was fairly close to Christmas anyway; he just couldn't get very excited. This year was different. This year the Triwizard Tournament meant he'd been able to meet up with his friends from Durmstrang (the ones on the Quidditch team and a few of the boys he'd met in the summer dragon training in Romania.) There was the prospect of watching the Triwizard tournament itself in the New Year. The school had decided that they would postpone it till January in response to the death of Carl Powers. And of course there was the Yule Ball. He was looking forward to an enjoyable occasion after the miserable business earlier on in the term, and it was nice to have an excuse to dance with Sarah.Incant and Deduct Part 8 in Short Stories More Like This
It didn't really surprise him that Sherlock wasn't exactly enthused about the whole thing. He'd only relented to John's nagging ve
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 SxJ 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'
Incantations and Deductions SHObviously it took years for them to ever get around to speaking to each other. Sherlock reasoned that it was natural: as well as being in different, some might even say rival, houses, there was also the social class divide and the fact that Sherlock always gave off the general air of someone who never wanted to talk to anyone, in his life, ever. As a general rule Sherlock felt that unless someone was directly benefitting him by being alive in his presence he would do his best to tolerate them, but if not they could bloody well bugger off and do their dull living /breathing /sleeping /eating /talking /having fun business somewhere else.Incantations and Deductions SH in Short Stories More Like This
His mother said it was just his age, that teenage years were awkward, his anti social nature was a phase he was going through. Sherlock rather suspected that it wasn't so much his age as his life. And he wasn't awkward, he was perfectly poised. It was the rest of the world that was awkward and unpredictable and usually mundane but occasionally
Harry Knows BestJohn's in Waterstones Piccadilly when he gets the text. He's trying to decide on a Christmas present for Mrs Hudson. She'd expressed an interest in the new Nigella Lawson cookbook, but Jamie Oliver was on offer and he'd seen her get teary during an episode of his American series, when he was dressed as a pod of peas and being mobbed by children in a playground. Usually this would end up with the man being put on a register, but on celebrities it is apparently charming to be covered in kids. "Such a lovely boy..." she'd said, her eyes sliding towards Sherlock, who was attacking a cushion so he could study the scatter pattern of feathers when it had been stabbed open, and she sighed obviously wishing 'her' boys were as nice as that Jamie. John had gone and made the tea in the ad break without being asked and Sherlock had been distinctly heard to mutter 'suck up' under his breath as John handed him his cup.Harry Knows Best in Short Stories More Like This
So he's holding two books, one with a grinning Mockney on the front and
nervosa.i.nervosa. in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
i was six years old the night my mother crept into my room, spread a second quilt on top of me, and began to quietly brush the hair of my barbies. she laid down on the cold wooden floor, one ear down - as if she could hear the small specks of dust moving across the downstairs hardwood.
"we're moving to waterford," she said, staring fondly at my lovingly-kept pocahontas doll. i hadn't seen her swipe it, and she played with the silky ends of the doll's purple-sewn hair in silence.
"i don't want to go," i told her, bleary-eyed and whining, "who wants to live in a place named after water? don't they have anything exciting to name it after?"
she stood with a thoughtful smile, something twisting in the murky brown pools of her eyes.
"water is like magic," she said. "water grows beautiful things."
and with that, she patted my foot, looked me in the eye, and took pocahontas away to the hall with her.
"she is beautiful," my mother told me softly. "i want her."
i closed my eyes
x-rays exit hereyou and i could never be one,x-rays exit here in Free Verse More Like This
because your voice reminds me
of honey and gravel, and your smiles
are as white as x-rays.
i remember having my ribs broken
by him, and later, when i stood
beneath the scanner, i couldn't
shake the feeling that it was seeing
through more than just my skin.
your eyes pierce through me just
the same--i think you'd do better as
a superhero (or interrogator) than
wasting all your time here.
...because my skin is computer-screen-
bleached, and my mind has his bloody
handprints all over it, and there are more
numbers to my name than it is really
healthy for you to take on.
five years of his abuse
seven things i wish i'd never told you
seventeen years of mistakes)
- h o w h i g h s h o u l d
i c o u n
due timeshe's growing up without you. she's turning into a woman with dreamsdue time in Free Verse More Like This
and hopes and missions, and you're staying the same like a tree that's
already shed its leaves-- you have nothing else to offer her, even
when you're naked in the doorway and begging her to come to bed.
(because she doesn't want to talk, or touch you.)
she wants to teach tiny children how to breathe again, to affirm that
monsters are only real when your eyes are shut. she wants to tell them
of the world's evil, and see to it that they can see past it.
(and she's going to leave you behind to do it.)
you haven't changed in all the years she's known you. once, she admired
you for being a constant. now the word 'constant' makes her think of math,
and she was never very good at it.
you make her feel angry and ugly in a world where you had only ever promised
to protect her. you were supposed to save her from her hell of a childhood, and
you laid there in her bed every night and ignored the 3 AM sniffles and wet
septemberit's too late--too early--for us to be up, or for us to be together.september in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
we're walking nowhere but going everywhere, and the cracks in the sidewalk are filling with all the words we're throwing away.
nobody cares about anything (not tonight, really) so there are leaves in her hair and she looks like a wild woman, and you're pretending to be a fashion model but your pants are falling off, and i'm trudging along in dirty old sweats with bruises on my hips.
we smell like vodka. it's too bitter--too sweet--for us to drink, but alcohol is in the air, and we're damn sure going to inhale it.
the world is upside down, and not because we are drunk. we aren't. if we were actually drunk, it would be on happiness and the liveliness of a good adventure. we're drunk on skipping bedtime and skipping down the walkway. we're drunk on rolling down dangerous hillsides that are fenced in to keep people like us out.
there are rocks everywhere - cutting into my back, scraping against my untucked elbow.
nothing likethere is nothing like settling in and lighting a stick of incensenothing like in Free Verse More Like This
and listening to your own teardrops fall like raindrops
and letting your mascara run a marathon down your chin
instead of dark alleyways or oceanside highways or
mountain paths where people like to bike.
there is nothing like finding shoeboxes of old photographs
and seeing his hand tangled in your auburn hair in mid-autumn
with peacoats and laced-up boots on and cider in your hands;
meanwhile you are at home lying lengthwise across the couch
with an afghan and coffee as your only company.
there is nothing like falling into a ravine of romance that you
can't climb out of; like trying to get a footing and being knocked
down to the dirt--but still smiling, always smiling.
there is nothing like knowing all of this is gone, and the only
thing that proves it ever existed is the box of faded photos you
secretly want to use as fuel for the fireplace.
shadow of a boyhe has terrible taste in clothing. he thinks old-school nintendoshadow of a boy in Free Verse More Like This
is educational. he looks nicer with shorter hair, but i'll never
have the heart to tell him that.
his favorite color is black because shadows make good hiding
places, and he thinks that if he does not sleep at night, the
ones beneath his eyes will disguise what he is really feeling.
he trusts no one. most of his secrets are like well-played
chess pieces, deployed only out of desperation. but they
have strength, and hold power, and sometimes the two
are not entirely the same.
he is in love with everyone, but no one knows it; they tell
him their secrets, and he suffers.
his mind grew up too fast. sometimes he feels like he is
90 years old; usually on days when it is 90 degrees. i
want to corrupt him with bubbles and baked goods that
are brimming with sugar.
...and if you don't mind, i want to do it in the shade.
(because he is a boy of shadows, and the shadow of a
boy, and i don't know what else i'd do for him.)
pot and sunglasses.you're smoking pot and driving now. you're wearing these big, glamorous, fake diamonds, and it took you two hours to put your make-up on. (i would know--i counted.)pot and sunglasses. in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
your sisters are in the back seat, and they have grown so old--no longer the little five and nine year olds my mind remembers meeting. they wear Aeropostale and American Eagle, and they're so damn tall now. i don't know where the years have gone.
we're all decked out in North Face jackets, like a bunch of pretentious, tacky rich kids. we're blasting the music on 89x and taking the M59 highway straight to the mall, straight to that strange little dip in the road that always makes my heart sink. we're driving straight to the point where the sun meets the earth, and my god, is it exhilarating.
maybe i've just spent so much time perusing parenting magazines that i've forgotten how to be a teenager. maybe i'm just tired of crying my eyes out every night as i worry of other people's thoughts of me. maybe it's because i'm pissed a
Threesomeday, i think, i will tell them how much they mean to me.Three in Stories & Vignettes More Like This
...but for now, we are lying in the sun-dried grass and the lakewater is crashing over our feet, and i'm happy to just be here, between them--i am at peace, in this moment, knowing that i am in my place; that this is where i'm supposed to be.
three people should not be allowed to love in this way--not together. and it's not as though there is anything overtly sexual here, or even privately. we are in love, and it's simple, and there are no other words for it.
it's the way you love your parents; are grateful for the food and roof and guiding words they have always strived to provide you. it's the way you love your best friends; are happy for the companionship, content to believe that you are not alone, are not strange. it's the way these people will always stand by you, always nurse you and coddle you and kick your ass into shape. --and then it's more.
we are fierce and unyielding, inseperable. miles may distance us, bu
Where She's NotShe's not at the bottom of my cereal bowlWhere She's Not in Free Verse More Like This
But I'll eat it all the same
Just because I get to think of her
And the way she smelled of sugar
She's not between the pages of this book
But I'll read it all the same
Just because I get to imagine her
And the way she was always my hero
She's not along this sunny street
But I'll walk it all the same
Just because I get to feel her
And the way she was warm, like summer
She's not in the spaces between the stars
But I'll gaze all the same
Just because I get to see her
And the way her eyes crinkled when she smiled
I always loved her smile.
I won't find her in these distractions
But I'll search all the same
Just because I need to feel her
And the way she's no longer there
Conversations in the Rain"At least put up your umbrella. Seriouslyyou'll catch your death out here,"Conversations in the Rain in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
I turn to look at her, give her a withering look, and turn away. I lift and relax my shoulder blades, settling my jacket more snugly about me. The raindrops that cling to the water-resistant fabric scatter with the movement and, for a moment, I'm surrounded by a silvery halo. Then the little droplets fall and burst against the pavement at my feet, and the moment's gone.
There's an umbrella in my pack, of course. I should use it, probably. It's an old wives' tale that getting cold and wet will make you sick, but I'd never been able to convince her of that. She was always stubborn that way.
She frowns disapprovingly now. "I'm not impressed by this, you know. I don't know what you think you're doing, but we both know you should get inside,"
I look at the ground for a second. The rain has plastered my hair to my face and neck, and when I look up, she reaches out to peel an errant curl from where it's settled
FearlessI was afraid to even touch youFearless in Free Verse More Like This
I was so certain you'd break, like glass
And if you broke, I'd fall into you
And cut myself on your sharp edges
But really, I'd have no problem bleeding
Not if I bled for you.
And in that measure,
I am fearless.
DreamgirlDear Dreamgirl,Dreamgirl in Letters More Like This
You don't know it yet, but you might save my life.
You are taller than I am and your hands are long so that they fold over mine. Your
mouth is full and real and made for smiling and your eyes are sharp because you see
and kind because you pretend not to.
Sometimes, when I'm walking down the street, I see somebody in a crisp dress uniform
or carefully groomed fatigues and my stomach bottoms out. I want to cry, but I don't,
because I swear to God nobody will ever see me cry ever again.
I might hold your hand too tightly and put my face into your neck, because the warm
scent of you drifts over your sensible shoulders and everything that was spiraling
away will spin back into place
In the ugly, scarred parts of me, the parts that I don't like to show anybody,
there'll be a sliver of coal-black disbelief. You're going to leave me, too. You will.
You'll walk away and you'll never look back, just like she did. And I'll be alone
again and more broken than
Day ThreeThe water's hot. Too hot, really. It prickles the back of my neckDay Three in Emotional More Like This
and shoulders, tapping out a mindless percussion on my spine. It's not
enough, though. Not nearly enough to drown out my thoughts or
sear them from my skin, but I'm giving it my best shot. I think I've been
here for the better part of an hour. My fingertips have shriveled into soft,
pink prunes and my hair sticks to my cheeks and back, all curly and dark
with gold tips.
I didn't think college would be so difficult, but the truth is that I'm
completely overwhelmed and I'm beating a hasty retreat. At least here it's
warm and it feels safe. At least here I can pretend that I'm not crying, that
it's only the water coursing down my cheeks. Tears would mean to defeat,
and I can't admit it, even to myself.
Somebody tears the shower curtain aside. My heart leaps uncomfortably,
but when I look up, any shout of indignation I might have mustered sticks
in my throat.
It's so quiet I can hear the rubber snick
Stone"You have a stone in your heart,"Stone in Flash Fiction & Vignettes More Like This
That rouses me somewhat. I look up from my book and out the window at the gray fog that's settled over everything like wet cotton. I imagine breathing it, letting it fill my lungs with gray. All at once, the room is suffocating and I push the window open and the cool air tumbles in and ruffles the pages of my book so that I lose my place.
The spell of the story unravels and some part of me aches to know that the sort of love that exists in the storybooks is never true.
She loves the lines of him.
"Are you listening?"
" Yes," I say without much conviction.
Rainwater pools on the windowsill.
"You you have a stone in your heart,"
I've waited a long time to show these flowers how pretty you are.
"Yes," I trace circles on the white laminate with a fingertip.
"Most days you can ignore it. And there are even some people who can make it lighter. But it always comes back. In the end it It always comes back,"
I should have
Day Ninei. She's on the floor, looking up at me, telling me it hurts, it hurts, it hurts. And I'm kneeling next to her. She's holding my hand too hard and I feel my bones creaking in her grasp, but maybe I'm gripping back just as hard. I don't know what's wrong. I don't know how to fix her or even what I'm supposed to fix, but her eyes God, her eyes are breaking my heart. They're filled with pain, with fearshe's so scared and I'm begging her to look at me, look at me, look at me. Just look at me. Everything's going to be all right. I promise. I'm helpless. I can't save her, and I hate it.Day Nine in Emotional More Like This
An ambulance arrives and there's a minor surgery, and everything is all right.
But the look in her eyes stays with me.
She's in the desert in sandy fatigues and there is a gun in her handsmy pretty soldier. She is on patrol. Something explodes and the scene dissolves into a chaos of dust and rubble and screaming and gunfire.