Title: The Little Things Give You Away, Chapter Epilogue
Pairings: Henry/Mike
Genre: Angst; Hurt/comfort; slash
Disclaimer: not mine, just playing; all "facts" are fictional, for the most part
Summary: When Mike asks for Henry's help on a case, a piece of Henry's past is revealed, drawing the two closer together.
A/N: I got to the point that I never thought this day would come, but here it is! The story is completed finished. Thanks to everyone who read and especially to those who commented. I really appreciated all your feedback. I hope you enjoy this one last piece. I may write more, probably not a series but maybe a few one-shots that build on what I've written here. We'll see what life allows. Thanks again! Enjoy!
( Previous Chapters )
The END!
- Mood:
excited
Title: The Little Things Give You Away, Chapter Eleven
Pairings: Henry/Mike
Genre: Angst; Hurt/comfort; slash
Disclaimer: not mine, just playing; all "facts" are fictional, for the most part
Summary: When Mike asks for Henry's help on a case, a piece of Henry's past is revealed, drawing the two closer together.
A/N: Sorry for the delay. This is the last chapter, minus the epilogue which will be posted soon. Again, not betaed so I'm sorry for any mistakes. Also sorry for the random font change, I couldn't figure out how to fix it. Enjoy!
( Previous Chapters )
Only the epilogue to go now!
- Mood:
blah
Title: The Little Things Give You Away, Chapter Ten
Pairings: Henry/Mike
Genre: Angst; Hurt/comfort; slash
Disclaimer: not mine, just playing; all "facts" are fictional, for the most part
Summary: When Mike asks for Henry's help on a case, a piece of Henry's past is revealed, drawing the two closer together.
( The road so far. . . )
- Mood:
hungry - Music:What Gets You Off- Jacks Mannequin
Title: The Little Things Give You Away, Chapter Nine
Pairings: Henry/Mike
Genre: Angst; Hurt/comfort; slash
Disclaimer: not mine, just playing; all "facts" are fictional, for the most part
Summary: When Mike asks for Henry's help on a case, a piece of Henry's past is revealed, drawing the two closer together.
( Previous Chapters )
- Mood: amused
Title: The Little Things Give You Away, Chapter Eight
Pairings: Henry/Mike
Genre: Angst; Hurt/comfort; slash
Disclaimer: not mine, just playing; all "facts" are fictional, for the most part
Summary: When Mike asks for Henry's help on a case, a piece of Henry's past is revealed, drawing the two closer together.
( Previous Chapters )
- Music:Hot Mess - Cobra Starship
Pairings: Henry/Mike
Genre: Angst; Hurt/comfort; slash
Disclaimer: not mine, just playing; all "facts" are fictional, for the most part
Summary: When Mike asks for Henry's help on a case, a piece of Henry's past is revealed, drawing the two closer together.
A/N: I'm baaaaack! I'm so very sorry for the long delays with this story. It went in a completely different direction than I anticipated and I nearly abandoned it. But I decided (partly for me but mostly for those who gave me such great feedback) to finish it. So here we go.
Good new is, it is completely finished! Meaning, so long as nothing terrible happens, all chapters should be posted within the next week. I struggled through certain parts (such as this chapter, lol) but ultimately I'm glad I finished it. It has not be betaed so I apologize for any mistakes. Thank you very much to any one who is still reading! Hope you like it!
( Previous Chapters )
( Henry was curled next to him, head resting on Mike's chest, ear to his heart. . . )
- Mood:
accomplished - Music:MFEO - Jack's Mannequin
The future has now become a darkened landscape full of hidden traps and obstacles. There is no horizon, no highlights to encourage me on the way. No matter how hard I try to summon up the determination and motivation to begin shaping that landscape, nothing takes form. With one year of school left I have less of an idea of what I want to do with my life than when I began and that thought scares me. I wonder where that fearless girl vanished to, beaten down by bullies and failures and the unbending harshness of certain realities of life.
I want that girl back.
I want the motivation to go after what I want. I want the naivete that allows the creation of great dreams and the conviction to go after them. I want to stand in front of crowds of people and only care about how I judge myself not how they judge me. I want more than anything not to feel that I'm wasting time.
I want to believe there's a way to make that all possible that doesn't rest solely on my shoulders. But I know it does. I know its up to me to make things possible. No one else will hand it to me. Yet even that knowledge isn't enough. But I know I must keep trying. It'll take work. Daily, hourly work and maybe someday I'll get there. I hope I get there. But it remains to be seen.
- Mood:
distressed - Music:Swim - Jacks Mannequin
"I'm glad you got away, but I'm still stuck out here, my clothes are soaking wet, from your brothers tears. And I never thought this life was possible. You're the yellow bird that I've been waiting for."
Songs are stories but they only tell so much. They contain the raw emotions, the thoughts we're often too afraid to express, the way we wish things were or the way they were supposed to be. But they are never, and probably never could be, the whole story.
I often wonder what the full story behind a song is. If I ever got a chance to talk to one of my favourite artists, I think the whole interview would be me nagging them to talk about their lyrics. They would likely quickly get annoyed with my incessant desire to know what inspired the story, what really happened, who it was about and why they wrote it. In that sense, no matter how personal songs are, they can never reveal too much. There is still so much back story the listener is never privy to.
Whatever they case, there are always those artists or those song that provoke more curiosity and mystery than others. And it's that mystery that makes in nearly impossible to get sick of a particular song. You always find something new. This was inspired by one such song by an artist I can never get sick of and will likely continue to try and figure out for the rest of my life. The song is Poison Oak by Bright Eyes. If I could, I would write the story behind this song. But that's not up to me.
"Now I'm drunk as hell on a piano bench, when I pressed the keys it all get reversed. The sound of loneliness
makes me happier." -Poison Oak, Bright Eyes
- Mood: awake
- Music:The Big Picture - Bright Eyes
1...hahaha....2....hahaha....3... *shudder*
Strangely enough I'm still fascinated by vampires. I'll have to look into this a little more.
- Mood:
bored
A couple weeks ago he asked me how I was liking it, and asked about one band in particular. I had yet to get to them. Perhaps if I had chosen an alphabetical order instead of a sporadic one, I may have got to them sooner. But alas.
Today, I felt like something new, so I consulted the playlist I'd created containing all his music and remembered at the last minute that he had mentioned one band in particular. So I hit play.
I believe they will soon become one of my favourite bands. I am truly excited about them. I won't explain why, but if you're that interested check out Astronautalis's Pomegranate.
- Mood:
bouncy - Music:The Wondersmith and His Sons- Astronautalis
But today I found a use for dreams.
I had a somewhat strange and slightly disturbing dream last night. It wasn't disturbing in a gruesome or entirely unrealistic way. Its hard to explain but it inspired me for a story. I'm not sure where it will go, if it will ever become something or just remain the first pages of one of many uncompleted stories that exist in notebooks, my computer and my head, but it is intriguing. It's one of the first things I've written that doesn't remind me of something I've read, or something that's really happened and it makes me think that maybe my unconscious has tapped into a part of my imagination that I've been unable to access otherwise. And it made me think that maybe that's the reason for dreams.
So in the future, I may pay more attention to my dreams, if for nothing else but fodder for my imagination. If the story I started today is ever worked on again, I may post it here. Or it may never be touched. We'll see what happens.
- Mood:
satisfied - Music:The Funeral- Band of Horses
Pairings: Henry/Mike
Genre: Angst; Hurt/comfort; slash
Disclaimer: not mine, just playing; all "facts" are fictional, for the most part
Summary: When Mike asks for Henry's help on a case, a piece of Henry's past is revealed, drawing the two closer together.
A/N: wow, i actually updated quickly this time. This is a very self-indulgent chapter for me, with little to further the murder plot. It's really all about Mike and Henry's relationship, so I hope you like it. Any and all mistakes are mine and I apologize. Feedback is greatly appreciated. Enjoy! ( Previous Chapters )
( Mike carried most of Henry's weight. . . )
- Music:Muder She Wrote- Chaka Demus & Pliers
Pairings: Henry/Mike
Genre: Angst; Hurt/comfort; slash
Disclaimer: not mine, just playing; all "facts" are fictional, for the most part
Summary: When Mike asks for Henry's help on a case, a piece of Henry's past is revealed, drawing the two closer together.
A/N: well, it wasn't quite as long a break between chapters this time this time. *hits head against desk* I think next time I post a multi-chaptered fic I'm going to write the whole damn thing first. Haha. Well, here's the next part, if anyone is still interested. Any mistakes are my own (and i apologize). Enjoy! ( Previous Chapters )
( Are we going to talk about what happened back there? )
- Mood: exhausted
- Music:C'mon Mom- The Elected
Pairings: Henry/Mike
Genre: Angst; Hurt/comfort; slash
Disclaimer: not mine, just playing; all "facts" are fictional, for the most part
Summary: When Mike asks for Henry's help on a case, a piece of Henry's past is revealed, drawing the two closer together.
A/N: Ack! I am utterly ashamed and appalled at how long it has been since I updated this story. Life seriously got in the way and I am very sorry. So, to reward any readers I may have for their patience, I have made this chapter uber-long, and included a bit I wasn't planning on. However, because I really wanted to post this right away, it has not been beta-read. So I also apologize for any and all mistakes you may find. That being said, I hope you like it! Let me know what you think. Oh, and feel free to friend me. (that's a lot of F's) So here it is. Enjoy! ( Previous Chapters )
( An old friend. . . )
- Mood:
pleased - Music:Some Red Handed Sleight of Hand- Cursive
In my writing for publication class one of our assignments is a magazine profile. One of my classmates profiled Walrus magazine and passed around a copy. While flipping through I found this poem. I thought it deserved to be shared. This is not my work. I repeat, not my work, nor do I in anyway own this. In fact, i'm not even sure if I'm allowed to repost it. Hmm. Enjoy!
Regret- by Troy Jollimore
I’d like to take back my not saying to you
those things that, out of politeness, or caution,
I kept to myself. And, if I may —
though this might perhaps stretch the rules —I’d like
to take back your not saying some of the things
that you never said, like “I love you” and “Won’t you
come home with me,” or telling me, which
you in fact never did, perhaps in the newly
refurbished café at the Vancouver Art
Gallery as fresh drops of the downpour from which
we’d sought shelter glinted in your hair like jewels,
or windshields of cars as seen from a plane
that has just taken off or is just coming in
for a landing, when the sun is at just the right angle,
that try as you might, you could not imagine
a life without me. The passionate spark
that would have flared up in your eye as you said this —
if you had said this —I dream of it often.
I won’t take those back, those dreams, though I would,
if I could, take back your not kissing me, openly,
extravagantly, not caring who saw,
or those looks of anonymous animal longing
you’d throw everyone else in the room. I’d like
to retract my retracting, just before I grabbed you,
my grabbing you on the steps of the New York
Public Library (our failure to visit
which I would also like to recall)
and shouting for all to hear, “You, you
and only you!” Yes, I’d like to take back
my not frightening the pigeons that day with my wild
protestations of uncontrolled love, my not scaring
them off into orbit, frantic and mad,
even as I now sit alone, frantic and mad,
racing to unread the book of our love
before you can finish unwriting it.
Again, not mine. Written my Tory Jollimore. Published in Walrus magazine.those things that, out of politeness, or caution,
I kept to myself. And, if I may —
though this might perhaps stretch the rules —I’d like
to take back your not saying some of the things
that you never said, like “I love you” and “Won’t you
come home with me,” or telling me, which
you in fact never did, perhaps in the newly
refurbished café at the Vancouver Art
Gallery as fresh drops of the downpour from which
we’d sought shelter glinted in your hair like jewels,
or windshields of cars as seen from a plane
that has just taken off or is just coming in
for a landing, when the sun is at just the right angle,
that try as you might, you could not imagine
a life without me. The passionate spark
that would have flared up in your eye as you said this —
if you had said this —I dream of it often.
I won’t take those back, those dreams, though I would,
if I could, take back your not kissing me, openly,
extravagantly, not caring who saw,
or those looks of anonymous animal longing
you’d throw everyone else in the room. I’d like
to retract my retracting, just before I grabbed you,
my grabbing you on the steps of the New York
Public Library (our failure to visit
which I would also like to recall)
and shouting for all to hear, “You, you
and only you!” Yes, I’d like to take back
my not frightening the pigeons that day with my wild
protestations of uncontrolled love, my not scaring
them off into orbit, frantic and mad,
even as I now sit alone, frantic and mad,
racing to unread the book of our love
before you can finish unwriting it.
- Location:home
- Mood: creative
- Music:nothing except the echo of I am the Walrus playing in my head
Author: Ceilidh_b
Beta: sherron0
Pairings: Henry/Mike
Spoilers: none
Genre: Angst; Hurt/comfort; slash
Disclaimer: not mine, just playing
Summary: When Mike asks for Henry's help on a case, a piece of Henry's past is revealed, drawing the two closer together. ( Previous Chapters )
( The victim was lying face down in the dark alley . . . )
- Mood: amused
- Music:Cheers Darlin' - Damien Rice
"I have found that searching for insight is more often than not a path to total darkness. Does
this stop me from searching, or anyone of that matter, of course not." -Andrew McMahon
It's slightly odd to write a blog quoting another blog but in this case it had to be done. I've been a fan of Andrew McMahon for a long time. I like his music, was thrilled to see him in concert but more than anything, I appreciate his talents as a writer. He has an uncanny ability to paint a picture without getting lost in symbolism and metaphors. And more often than not, he's able to voice something I've been feeling but unable to say. Obviously it had nothing to do with me, but he's one of those artists I connect with. On this particular day I've been taking a gander at his blog, which I've sadly been neglecting for a while now, and found one entry that really spoke to me. He focuses more on music but art is art, and the trouble we often have creating it or believing in it is universal. Fear of criticism, of others not understanding what I'm trying to say or do has often stopped me from sharing something I'm so proud of. He puts it well, stating "I have walked cautiously in public while trying to stretch continuously behind closed doors". My inability to be openly proud of my work has hindered me for a long time, and this site more than anything is helping me get over that. So cudos. And thank you.
"The roads don't open up too much around here and it couldn't have happened soon
enough." - Andrew McMahon
( Jacks Mannequin/Andrew McMahon's Blog )
- Location:home
- Mood: pleased
- Music:Rescued- Jack's Mannequin
Author: Ceilidh_b
Beta: sherron0
Pairings: Henry/Mike
Spoilers: none
Genre: Angst; Hurt/comfort; slash
Disclaimer: not mine, just playing
Summary: When Mike asks for Henry's help on a case, a piece of Henry's past is revealed, drawing the two closer together.
A/N: Hey guys! Sorry I took so long to post the next part of this. Between going to Toronto, having people staying with us, looking for another job AND having my internet down for a week, its been impossible to get this done.
So here's the next chapter. Its kind of a filler and took me a while to write so hopefully from here on in it will get a little more exciting (and faster to post) Hope you like it as much as you all seemed to like the first. Thanks to everyone for their comments and support. I really appreciate it. Again, this is entirely fiction, so don't analyze the 'history' too much. Lol. Oh, and I forgot to mention last time that the title comes from a song. Let me know what you think. ; ) ( Previous Chapter )
( You look like hell . . . )
- Location:bed
- Mood: sleepy
- Music:For the Windows in Paradise, For the Fatherles in Ypsilanti- Sufjan Stevens
Author: Ceilidh_b
Pairings: Henry/Mike
Spoilers: none
Genre: Angst; Hurt/comfort; slash
Disclaimer: not mine, just playing
Summary: When Mike asks for Henry's help on a case, a piece of Henry's past is revealed, drawing the two closer together.
A/N: So, I've been working on this for a while and decided to finally share it. There are parts of it i'm still not happy with, but I figured if I keep stalling I'd never end up posting. All 'historical facts' are entirely invented by me and likely not accurate at all. But thats the point of fiction, right? So, I hope you enjoy it. Please no flames but if you like it let me know!
I'll try to post more soon, but no promises.
( Michael Cellucci was reluctant to admit that he needed help. . . )
- Location:Home
- Mood:
drained - Music:Being for the Benefit of Mr. Kite- Eddie Izzard
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