Thursday, 29 August 2013


With all the recent events, I see no point in immersing into more heteronormative art or culture. Everyone is a piece of shit and I have all reasons.

Cavanaugh fired me for being gay. 

My mind is all blank, I keep rubbing all the mascara all over my face, wondering why don’t I buy the waterproof and I always thought that it would be due to someone dying tragically, but then it’s my own death.

I get asked if I saw (insert straight movie director here) and I say no. I don’t care, I don’t want to see myself treated like shit on screen.

I make myself some tea with shaking hands and Bass is finally eating. I didn’t even bother to try and make him eat. Words don’t even go in and all the homophobia crashes on me and everyone saying that I won’t find a job. 

Maybe I should’ve gone into work, wearing a I’m GAY shirt, maybe then I would be known as gay Maura rather than Maura who made a move on Jane and the boss caught it.

I start eating an apple.

Straight women are even worse than straight men. I start crying again, dropping the apple and nearly tripping on the heels I didn’t even bother to take off.

Maybe I shouldn’t have ever hidden my sexuality, the only woman who has ever touched me has been myself, people labeling me straight even if I am never on one photo of a man. 

Maybe I should’ve always been known as gay Maura, back in high school, joined a LGBT or gay straight alliance or whatever, made myself known, rather than people asking themselves how can a woman they know be mentally ill?

Or maybe it’s just society’s fault for never accepting anyone who comes out. 

I never threw my tablet away reading a comment, from a LGBT individual that we don’t need LGBT characters in television.

I feel insignificant, I feel like a little piece of shit, like I am intended to be and I feel disgusting and the only way for me to be forgiven is to let a man do things to me which he would never want for himself and that is not love, women become punchbags. 

I lie on the floor, Bass is eating and I hear the crunches and I wish I would die, yet be revived, I wish

To be back and be gay within a gay world.


I wake up.

I feel myself on a bed, I stretch my arm and my bed is huge and Bass is on it, hiding and I trace my hand on his shell, feeling him hiding and that makes me smile. Little things still make me smile, they make me want to live.

So I sit up and I feel...lighter.

Maybe Paddy’s bizarre people got me to bed, wouldn’t be a first anyway.

And I keep my eyes closed not to see myself jobless and thinking if I should move somewhere LGBT accepting and I’ve already sent applications, angrily thinking if I should start off with Maura is a lesbian. 

Well, I’m a gold star lesbian, which is bizarre, but I am.

And I open my eyes and I’m sure I still am. 

I close my mouth with my hands. I do feel smaller and I start literally bawling and my mom walks in. Constance is much younger and 

I see another woman with her, who I don’t know.


I actually wrote this yesterday, but I kind of wanted to close it off here, even if she hasn't technically gone to High School yet. All is ahead with Jane :O

The idea came from the fact that I am distressed by my own situation and I was thinking what if high school was accepting and I was tired from reading LGBT novels with homophobia there, I wanted something literally about two people in love and with no discrimination really and the idea of a alternate accepting even where gay is more normal than straight came across. Obviously I won't have "straightphobia" (XD) but I wanted gay to be normal. There was this video all over the internet where they reversed gay and straight. It made my partner mad, why is this the way we have to get it across? Why can't there be a movie which shows how cruel homophobia is instead of showing how the poor poor straights would be treated? But that's not the point, go judge me, but I looked at it, jealous, wishing gay was the normal and I was envious. That was or is which is inspiring this, but there will be no discrimination. 

So I get a distressed as much as I am Maura and stick here in this ideal world. What will happen, well that's when you request really

Please feel free to request for the next chapter - with Jane :D

Thank you:)


Friday, 23 August 2013

Rag & Bone

It doesn’t make sense, that it’s as if you wake up all of a sudden and after the thought graces your head, women stop being attractive.

Jane and Maura aren’t helping, both of them moving in together and Maura saying how everyone, literally everyone should go to pride, isn’t helping either, neither are her statistics on how younger family members are more likely to be gay.

I just feel... depressed all of a sudden, it feels bizarre, like I see women on television, sure they’re good looking but I imagine them in my bed and it’s like

well, what the fuck do I do with that?

I feel... lost, because I don’t know who I am, I haven’t transitioned yet. 

I just recall how I’d change a few shirts and wonder why I hadn’t fixed the bike yet, but then I could just walk there, not feeling like being late anyway. I should get a dog or something, but I wonder if that would be stereotypical of me, but then Jane and Maura don’t have cats, instead they’ve got a dog and a tortoise. 

In the end I just grab a shirt at random, shave again for no reason. I watch television for a bit, just flicking through and I feel stabbed by all the heteronormativity and I still haven’t told mom, at least she can’t use the argument that she will never have grandchildren of her own, as Tommy might have a whole zoo soon enough. 

When I’m on my own my life seems boring consisting of slowly discovering gay movies which I watch in bed or watching baseball, but then we get cases too often and there’s always a trail to follow. 

In the end I make my way, window shopping wondering where would I fit and I’ve never really even gone out with a guy, so I open the door to the Dirty Robber, I know it’s good, but can we ever have a change?

I kiss Maura on the cheek right after she sees me and Jane hugs me, as they are both drinking beer, Maura getting used to it and I order the same kind, seeing a half empty bottle already and I see both women beaming apparently with their choice of a date for me.

“And where would he be?” I ask, already flushed, but thankfully it doesn’t show, instead Maura says he had to go to the bathroom, as he is too nervous.

“But any characteristics?” I ask again, getting my beer and I take a big gulp, thinking if I should have asked before more consistently. I see Maura had forced Jane rainbow suspenders and I end up chuckling with Jane shrugging before she pecks Maura on the lips. They don’t look cheap either, but I realize how much Jane’s money doubled ever since, but then it’s not for me to count.

“Hey.” And he sits besides us. 

“Um, what are you doing here, Detective Frost?” I fist bump him and keep wondering where would my date be and I start getting anxious. Before he replies, he takes a gulp of the half drank beer.


I haven't written Rizzoli & Isles fanfiction before even if I really really love Rizzles :3 :3 I mean Rizzoli & Isles :D

I am saddened by Lee Thompson Young's death and I didn't want to post this on the day he died, so I kept pulling it off, as I didn't want a mourning Frankie fanfic, I actually wanted something uplifting because well, in his memory and we all loved him and he was outstanding and a very very lovable character.

You shall always be missed.

Thank you and please feel free to request the next chapter :D


Monday, 19 August 2013

Emphasize Heaven

It’s very awkward.

“Hi.” He says and I see how he aged and that he no longer looks like a teenager, well, he looks like he managed to reach puberty after going on some testosterone pills, so I’ll give him that. 

“Oh, fucking hell, fuck, suck harder.” He said slamming his head against the wall accidentally, pulling my head closer to his body. 

“Um, yeah, hi.” Why I’m even drinking apple juice, usually people think his ID is fake and Alex ends up sipping rum from my straw when the bartender ain’t looking. 

I went on top of him, as he kept pulling my nipples before pulling me down, frenching me passionately. 

Alex keeps biting his lips, sipping his whisky slowly and I fucking want him again, not even recalling what lead to sex and what happened after sex, but rather the act and he just looks at me and sighs, probably thinking that all is lost. He turns away from me and I grab him by the sleeve. I don’t say don’t go and I know we look different and it’s been a couple of years and I don’t know what I’ve been doing and I hope neither does he. 

I keep holding his arm and he turns around, having the same smile and that makes me blush. I want him to kiss me again, I want him to hold me, I want to see him be clumsy again and I want to just go out, I want to have a first kiss again. 

Alex just looks at me and we keep our distance. 

“Would you join me for dinner? There’s a good vegan place, I’ve heard.” I don’t know what’s holding either of us, I believed in Jamie too much back then, but now on the edge of The Kills breaking up in my eyes as we have no sex between us, I feel like I don’t have a difference who shoves the guitar between my legs. 

“...I’m not a vegan anymore. Jamie isn’t and...” I see Alex sigh and I feel him lean a bit at the same time. I look at his brown eyes and I feel the shivers going through me and the pain of not touching him. “I missed you.”

He leans even closer, his lips so close to mine and I don’t feel anything besides pain running through my body and desire. 

“I’ve... heard about Jamie and yet, you still go in synch with him. Alison, I don’t know. Trust me, it aches just as much.” His arms are trembling and are on my arms, sliding up and down. I don’t feel the people around us and I know Jamie could be drowning in jealousy from losing a woman he can fuck in the middle of the night. 

“It aches even more.” He swallows and actually dares to slightly touch my neck with his fingers and he whispers that in my ear. 

I turn to him to see him grinning at me, just as dunked in love as he was before and that soothes me, it wraps me around in comfort and I stare at him for a while and we stay there for a small while, before he grabs me by the wrist and we aim to head out of Jamie’s. 

“Alison!” I hear Jamie say and I turn around with Alex and I can feel him be on the edge of confusion. 

“See ya.” I turn around and I know that Jamie won’t follow me, still thinking that tomorrow he will call me and I will suck him off as usual, as I could never find anyone else and I was scared to call Alex. 

“Tough luck for Jamie, then?” He grins as we keep heading north, myself getting nervous that he would still drag me to the vegan restaurant and once I ask, Alex just laugh, saying no. 

“Y’know what I missed?” I ask his attention fully on me, as we walk without touching, but I can see Alex fiddling with both of his arms. “You’re gonna laugh, but a full romantic dinner.”

I stop.

“I mean, you know the whole situation with Jamie.” I feel awful for bringing up the other man in my life, but instead Alex just nods.

“No, don’t worry. I dated Alexa during that time, I really thought you wouldn’t come back after Jamie called that morning, asking you to come back, that he and Kate wouldn’t get along. I really didn’t understand how could you fuck two different people with a few hours apart and fuck, I was really making love for the first time, I dunno.” He stops for a bit, taking out his iPhone and trying to find the place he is looking for, actually taking my hand in his and stroking it, as he tries to focus on the really bad maps which seem to be pointing to nowhere. “I really want a romantic dinner, too, trust me.”

“With you.” He emphasizes and looks at me. He intertwines his fingers with my own and we keep walking. “I just with the whole Jamie and then there was Jack, I felt as if I couldn’t have you for a cheap shag sometime, I felt as if I could never have you, with you giving so much love around. My relationships didn’t last, whenever I’d presume something and well, here I was...”

He bites his lip, stopping for a bit.

“Risking. Fuck, I love you.” And he takes my face in his hands, stroking the cheeks, grinning madly, savouring the last moment and the coming ones as he leans in to kiss, as I close the gap, my heart racing as I open my mouth, letting our tongues touch and I’m shivering from desire and I keep running my hands through his hair, pulling him closer, Alex thinking that I’m shivering from the cold, so without stopping the kiss, he takes off his jacket, putting it on my shoulders as I kiss him deeper. 

I get too turned on by Turner and I feel also hunger raiding me, as I didn’t think of the appetizers when I saw him talking to Moss, asking her something until he saw me and smiled, before going white, recalling in what situation we were. 

He pulls back, looking at me, stroking my cheeks with his fingers. 

“Fuck it, I love you, I always have. I don’t care who you love.” His voice trembles. “I’m here, I won’t hide anymore, I fucking want you.”

He flushes slightly.

“Not just sexually, I...” He stops, kissing my forehead. “I need you. The ball is in your court, want me as a lover, want me among the ranks of White and Hince, sure. Just don’t throw me away.” He starts kissing my neck. 

“I really can’t hold, I’m so sorry.” He strokes my neck with his nose, his arms trailing down my back and up, warming me up with his love. 

“Alex.” I can see his broken look and how empty he is without my love, I keep looking at him, feeling overwhelmed by dancing in his love and all the feelings. I feel just as empty as he does, I need his love which I haven’t been getting lately, even if we see each other in the grocery store, something stops us, yet we choose the same milk and the pain trailed on. He keeps kissing my neck tenderly. I stroke his hair, kissing the top of his head. He feels as if he curled up entirely, ready for me to hold him. “You know, you know everything.”

I feel like I’m suffocating. Alex feels like he’s heard enough and he’s nearly crying, kissing my face all over. 

Now I’m holding his face now and I can see him crying. I hand him back his jacket, laughing.

“I love you. I... I’m not hiding.” I feel the fire burn my throat and then the desire to have Alex overwhelms me heavily and we keep kissing, as he doesn’t stop kissing me all over anything he can reach, even my hands and I want him, just as I always have. Quoting Alex, I want us to make love again, I want to actually wake up and keep making love. I don’t want to stop ever. I keep feeling his tears and we’re both shivering, but we don’t feel the temperature around us any longer. 

“I need you, as much as you need me, I swear. I need you.” I kiss his temple, as Alex strokes my hair. 

“You look good blonde, y’know, didn’t really expect it.” As he steps a bit back to see me being finally his. “Fuck, you’ve grown.”

We both start laughing.

“Of course not.” I nudge him and I kiss his cheek. “You look good with puberty upon you, shaved yet?” 

He flips at me and grabs me to kiss my own cheek tenderly before he stands in front of me and his hands go under my shirt and he breaths out in ecstasy. 

After we came, Alex pulled me up, resting his head on my shoulder, his eyes closed, breathing out heavily yet heaven playing on his lips, as he held me tight, holding a heavy heaven with no strength needed whatsoever. 


I ship them so much ToT I can't, apparently there isn't really any Alison/Alex fanfiction I could find, so I ended rereading everything I've ever written xD and then didn't hold and wrote this and it's so beautiful T__T Oh, Alex T____T 

At this point of existence I ship Alison/Alex more than anyone T___T and it was different for me to write a more mature Alex with him banging into anything, even if he did in a flashback and he's so cute T___T 

I know, I've got the queue but I'm trying to force myself to catch up on Rizzles so I know everything what's up xD currently I'm glued to Sailor Moon (I've never watched it in my childhood and both me and Callie are hardcore Ikuhara fans XD) and I've written this and sometimes I do stick a story which is not in the queue right after its freshly baked :D

I don't think I've written such an intense confession scene before T__T and it was beautiful

I'd gladly continue if anyone is intrigued :D and wants to see them have sex again :D:D:D:D  and what will Jamie do? Dun dun duuuun! :O 

Now, I have to think of a title XD (puts on Alex Turner thinking glasses) hmmm...

I'm not sure if I'm happy with the title, because it is cheesy but that was what I was aiming for and soon enough it'll still to me as well :D

So please feel free to request :D


Saturday, 17 August 2013

Poison the Rose 2

Men felt wrong, that’s the word, it felt like forced attraction, my eyes rolled back as their kisses traced back and forth. They were never there, while with women it was always different, on a phone both of us, dying nails, applying lipstick, mixing colours with kisses.

I don’t hate men, it's nowhere close, it becomes just the leftovers of some childhood right and wrongs, which I didn't follow.

I was terrified always of society raising their hands on me, because I was taking away something which was “rightfully theirs” to use in their needs, that I was taking women away, that other men were taking other men in the end hate becomes blind and my own speech becomes harmful at times, anger is hard to direct properly, when it's a whole structure maintained to hate itself.

Hate makes hate.

I don’t go on rallies, I just open my mouth on a woman and I french her like society tells her that love is something she will only read of, there will be no need for a pure hate-bred cishet family like in Orwell's 1984. But they forget that trans people may reproduce, that reproducing is a choice and when society does not feed, why give birth to the unwanted?

Thank God, amen.

Society makes us be with someone who we will love just to be bred, we are done as copies of copies, only numbers start mattering.

I leave, just wondering how much I like red heads and I could see Lana with red hair and I was fucking her a few days ago. I light a cigarette, wanting to dye my own hair red in her own death, wrap her bones around mine coming with the wrapping of flesh. I want to go inside and dissolve in her, it’s funny how I see Lana already skeleton or sometimes I see her mouth open, but now I know she has no hair and hopefully her eyes are closed unless the opened them to observe the tomb she is and carve things with her long nails, as she’d smile.


But she’s on the autopsy table, seen as a murder and sometimes they let me in, just sometimes and I can drink coffee, looking at her, the ring still faithfully on her finger and on mine as well.

We all love and I don't understand why should I be told to be with someone else. I thought that the best joke was that there is a lesbian that fakes her orgasms, the sex is very different, it becomes an act of something forbidden you had chosen to do, because you had wanted it so. I felt alive by women, I felt as if my colour was injected into the world. I can look back all I want and I’ve been kissed by women and had women hold my hands. It boils down to many things, I am attracted to women, that's all.

What becomes worse is when women reduce other women to their genitalia, when transwomen are rejected, when transmen are rejected for being trans. We become the movement we were always against, we ourselves become as shallow as those who yelled at the cis gay couple to breed.

I don’t understand sometimes how many hate speeches are done whether it's against men or women and they remain attracted to said gender either, that I would choke on my black coffee, myself not being a detective but watching my own rerun of Twin Peaks, eyes wide open with circles as black as the remains and I start seeing Lana  stroking the television, turning around and dancing in a silk dress, her hands upper and I stretch out my head, as if it would break and I feel her hands dance around my cheeks and I want Lana.

I kiss her hard, only feeling the silk of her material, a small cheating flirt, like she was, with all the butch women around her and I would sit in the corner as she would admire their tattoos, their necklaces and ask if they had bikes.

Lana’s first girlfriend comes to mind.


I wrote this chapter quite a while ago, actually I was very interested in the story and I love the pairing. A lot of ideas have been changing, but I believe the main one will still be there, I was thinking to change from Alison to Lana and back, but not now :D

I hope you enjoy it as much as I do :D and yes, there will be more and more sex XD (we're all here for it xD)

Please feel free to request and please donate:) if you donate you get a request which jumps over the queue :O

(2015): I don't want to go all Billy Martin and be all, hey, I don't like what I wrote so stash it, so frankly, I'm out in the open. This was revised. Back when it was written I had a problematic mindset and times were different. I'm sorry and yeah. We all fucked up, we all get told the wrong things and now I can just edit this and it has a different meaning and a fucking good one. Also it's a product of it's time, know it's more accepting to be a cis lesbian, back then it wasn't and I spoke of it. It's good that we gain acceptance somehow somewhere in time. 

Poison the Rose 3

Wednesday, 14 August 2013

This is Yesterday

We pass on misery onto our children.

I think that I am happy, because I will seal away this misery within myself with the lack of a bathtub, where I can put my feet out because it is far too hot.

Instead I go from river Clyde to Fife and back, counting the acne I’ve got on my face.

I haven’t noticed how tired Nicky is, until he was actually blowing me, I was grabbing his face closer to my own and in the shadow his circles looked deeper, as if he was holding the pain for both of us and we stopped. 

I walked towards the mirror, skipping over the clothes, getting tangled in jeans and I would see myself naked, weight lost and the desire for food flirting with my mind. 

My scars have healed, because I’ve reached the point where suicide is answered with a what or why. It holds no point anymore because I’ve held so long, there is no point to hold on as there is no end everything.

Boredom has been lulling me away from the thoughts of suicide and self-harm after shaving my head doesn’t have a reason. I feel like I’ve lost everything, money and a home and a chance in life, just Nicky, the other side. 

The dog is dead and Nicky’s here, coming out, didn’t even exist, it was more about being with your twin, it had incest rather than homosexuality.

It wasn’t closing my eyes on boys who sucked each other off when I wanted to piss in school. It didn’t make me want to puke. Instead it had been different, 

common sense gives you homophobia, so that the first time you actually fall for someone the same sex, it’s a different sin than incest, both have the barrier of actually touching yourself to that person for the first time.

I just recall how I couldn’t hold and I waited for Nicky to leave to football practice and I had sat on the toilet, praying to something I didn’t believe and I knew that I was going to give up, you don’t label yourself, I found it bizarre before how people would say they don’t label themselves, but you’re so busy thinking about the person that you just do it.

It takes a motherfucking long while, your thoughts are racing, the whole body is sweating and nothing can be done, when you’re done.

Nicky had asked me what the fuck was going on and I said nothing until he grabbed me.

I believe someone had wanked to me then, 

and he kissed me. 

There was another bond to break, it wasn’t about myself then, but rather it was about us, that’s when the time thinking about labels begins, when you’re free to fiddle around, when the person is given to you, thankfully.

Suicide would give me nothing and change nothing.

I’d have nothing as well with a Nicky. 

I don’t have a home anymore and I don’t know what tomorrow will be, but now I have Nicky, I have a lover. And when your brother becomes your lover, you start fucking and I think fucking gives you endorphins. 

I feel Nicky pull my underwear down and I feel myself hardening as I bite my lip, as he licks down my abdomen and I don’t look down, spreading my legs out, stretching my arms as I feel him take me in his mouth and I gasp, arching my back, grabbing his head and thrusting harder and I feel him gag lightly, so I pull out a bit, watching him, as I feel myself warm up. 

“Nicky...” I breathe, pulling his hair, gasping, my mouth open and I start moaning, no more energy to fucking bite my lips anymore as he keeps sucking me off. 

Then I pull him up by his hair. 

I bite his neck, tracing my fingers on his torso and I wonder if this would be a form of narcissism, the only difference being about a centimeter in our height and sometimes my eyes seem darker than his, but maybe it’s an illusion for me to convince myself that I am not in any way fucking myself. 

Sometimes I get too many notes in my head, which become a mess and become noise afterwards. Sometimes I recall liking other men, when I listen to Joy Division, sometimes it’s bizarre, when I kiss Nicky, knowing that I found everything and sometimes I want to drop it all, but other people scare me with their stupidity.

“C’mon, we need to shower.” I pull him up, pulling his underwear down and we go both hands united, both grinning and knowing that sex is ahead, we turn on the water and it is cold at first, Nicky shakes but then I go on my knees, the cold water keeping me sane until it changes but I still blow him, my nails digging in his skin, as I start licking the tip of his cock solely, Nicky holding onto the walls, the water now concentrating on my head, so I close my eyes and it amuses me how we both have our eyes closed and even when I’m sucking him, I’m scared of what awaits us, because what concerns me or Nicky is not what people are concerned about anymore. They have home and money, but no love, while we have each other. 

I gently tug the tip with my teeth before taking him as much as I can in my mouth, which is a lot, I guess due to training and the fact that I want him inside anywhere possible. I start stroking his cock as I keep sliding it in and out of my mouth. I take my tongue out and I start sliding Nicky’s cock up and down, slowly fingering myself. 

Nicky notices and pulls me up.

“What?” I smirk and he frenches me, sliding in a finger and I start gasping and moaning again.

“Fuck me.” And he presses me against the wall, I feel the cold against my cock and it turns me on as he spreads out my buttcheeks, biting my shoulder, I hear him swear in pleasure as he slowly goes inside me, fucking me in and out, pressing me harder against the wall, pulling me by the hair to make out with me as my cock gets harder, now in his hand as he strokes it and I can’t hold, pushing his hips deeper inside me, as I keep bending backwards in pleasure, opening my eyes to see his closed yet licking my neck.

Now I pin him against the wall, taking him out of me and I slide inside him as he screams in pleasure, but Nicky continues to finger me even harder, pulling my lips with his teeth, sliding a third finger, scissoring, biting my neck, pulling my hair, moaning, looking into my eyes, fuck

I pull him as hard as I can, our hips slamming into each other and I feel a horrid cramp in my neck from a bad position, but I don’t care, our tongues sticking out of our mouths, licking each other, Nicky gasping too loudly, pulling me by the hair and fucking me with his fingers as I fuck him and fuck, it feels like I’m on a ride and it keeps getting better, all pain mute and I don’t feel that I’ve ever cried or cut myself, I just feel Nicky

and I come, screaming before biting hard into his shoulder, digging my nails painfully deep into Nicky’s hips as I feel myself filling him, still thrusting as Nicky comes against my stomach, licking my lips before we start making out again, I pull his face, as he wraps his hands around me, stroking my hair and I want to fuck him again.

“I can’t stop.” I say between breaths and I press him fully against the wall and I start fingering him with one finger, teasing him as he feels the lack and I keep watching him, recovering from the last orgasm and I turn him to face me and I peck him on the lips, before taking both of our cocks in my hand, Nicky putting his hand on mine and we start stroking both of our penises, my head on his shoulder and his on mine, as he watches me, I can feel it and I keep kissing any piece of skin I can find and fear still visits me right before I orgasms, so I stroke harder, screaming, feeling myself vulnerable and without a future, yet having love and support from someone who is identical to me, sometimes it even feels that we are the same person, when he comes, I don’t understand how I don’t feel both of us and that depresses me, because I know we came to the world together, but for us to leave the world together it would either be fated by an accident or one of us taking the life right after. 

I can’t lie, saying I’m not scared, I can’t say all is crap, all I can do is be here, that’s why when people see me suicidal I don’t understand, nothing is to lose, but something might be gained. Nicky is the guarantee I get in my life and everything else now seems to be temporary like the weather, I can’t guess neither can the Met office. 

And any reference to anything I will leave makes me sad, as I don’t know when I will come back and what home will be. What change will it have.

Nicky pulls his head back and his exposed neck, which I lick makes me come and I just hold him, knowing that I am not alone, unless I leave. 


It was quite a hard story to write, as I am pretty much fucked at the moment and just like Richey, I don't know what tomorrow will be. I've been pretty awful for the past week with so many turns. I have my downs and ups and that really influenced. All the backstory would really be my situation now and I can't say its personal, its just inspired about how lost I feel yet I have someone at my side at all costs. I was actually thinking about it, how I find it bizarre that I am the only one who I know my age roughly, who is at such a steady relationship and Richey and Nicky's relation even in the manics was awfully strong. 

Richey is always a special person to me, even if I've never known him, as I am a hardcore Richey fan, no matter how much I look at it and I love writing him, I've really missed writing him and I've rediscovered manics for myself again, even a bit of post-Richey, not just Born A Girl xD because I've always been glued to the Holy Bible, really xD 

Again talking about the backstory and what inspired without my situation is bizarre.

I don't know what will happen and it scares me, I have a lot of anger right now and sadness, which comes and goes, I've tried to give it to Richey and I do keep thinking why don't I write something not related to my situation now, but that's the point, writing what you know, because I can clearly explain what I feel and here it is really.

I just really miss searching for inspiration during the day a lot, rather than just trying to get what I feel out of me.

I feel that I might be judged, because now I am deeply judged, I guess like Richey, not to such an extreme level, I didn't like myself and when crap happens it gets worse so yeah.

I can continue this if you wish so and I'm sorry if my writing is too inspired by whats going on, but then She's Suffering or anything is inspired, all is inspired by life. 

I hope you enjoyed it and feel free to request :)

I am going to mercilessly steal This is Yesterday for the title, because both Richey and me are living in yesterday, tomorrow is bleak and unknown. But we both have Nickys who are just too optimistic (I'm getting grins now). 



Friday, 9 August 2013

Ian's Ghost 2

Depression gets worse, I start counting the hours, no two hours are the same. It gets worse and worse, the only support I get is getting told that those around me feel worse, because they see my state.

Everyone fights over what to give me and who to drag me too.

Joining Ian seems on my lips, but so many things have happened and alcohol doesn’t help anymore. My whole body aches, sometimes it’s just parts and sometimes it’s the whole thing, I can’t turn my head anymore without losing my vision.

I don’t count the times I’ve cried, I don’t know where the money is going, as me and Ian split the apartment and I can’t afford it anymore.

Money from jobless parents just on pension doesn’t make sense either and my hands are too tied to find a job.

If I had a gun, I would shoot myself, my hands just don’t reach out for the plug, the only thought stopping me is that someone will find me nearly dead and will yank me out, just because suicide is illegal, I don’t even care about the words whispered among the family.

I’ll be dead.

I know there’s no heaven and I know there’s no Ian.


I do feel better now after remembering Stephen from The Well of Loneliness and recalling Lady Gaga's history, but I guess all the feelings and thoughts had to said and were indeed chucked into this chapter, so yeah

Well, yeah

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Feel free to request, if you donate, your request will be done on the same day


Monday, 5 August 2013

Ghost Ian

Everything about my death seems tragic, up to the point of standing up from my own body, blowing smoke without cigarettes and the last thoughts of how else I would have died.

Anyone who says that they never thought of dying, would be lying.

There is nothing wrong with being suicidal, never loving anyone and taking a bunch of meds which screw you up even more.

It’s funny that I still live after my death, alone, deserted, sitting on a bench,

I wonder about women, how they always have some fancy interest and we, males, just want to shut them up, yet we would take about the same subject passionately with other men, so that makes me wonder, that makes me wonder,

where did we go wrong,

where did I go wrong.

But I’m not dead, I’m just tipping over twenty and I can already see a loop around my neck or a car showing me the last light which will blind the tunnel and everything will be white until it fades.

I see voices, I can see them shift colours, as if I am high, with no emotion and I hear noises all the time, sometimes they are birds, sometimes I feel them peck my hair, yet I do nothing.

I don’t bother to shave anymore as I don’t see anyone, I just have some visitors and I let them in to sleep over the night, some myth of America still alive in my thoughts and in the tourists, the kitchen is open and people manage to cook things all over and over again, giving me some omelette, maybe I do look like a mess, just what my parents had said, before I left.

Some people say that Big Brother will come and then, you won’t be able to disappear so freely, so I keep reading Kafka again, wondering what had inspired me back then and I actually call the motel Colony, but no one gets the reference or gets scared.

People think I’m dead and I wonder if I am, because I’m just gone and I think someone is hallucinating a death.

Sometimes I wonder what I survive on, as people just stay here one night and without medication the colours are too bright and sometimes I watch the news on loop.


And yes, this is linked to Ian's Ghost, obviously.

My results come in on Tuesday, but I still do one story a day (cackles viciously)

Is Ian dead? Is Ian alive? (cackle, cackle, cackle)

Feel free to request :D


Sunday, 4 August 2013

drive to recast2

I have to embrace the fact that I’m a lesbian.

Just like my hair is now fully gray in the mirror, just how being a teenager I would see the future being reflected in all the colours in my head. It’s within me.

It’s hard to go from the word bisexual sometimes, I just tell everyone that I am bisexual so they see men besides me and a threesome in the bed but children all made without condoms, all unexpected like sudden rotten plants in the garden, my stomach all inflated.

I tell everyone that I’m a bisexual, so that they still have hope for me in their heads, that misery will come at my door along with the reaper who will not kill. And neither do I want children I wouldn’t love, I wouldn’t love anyone then if I was hetero.

You don’t want children until you meet the one. But what if my one won’t be able to give me and her children? What if we won’t mix to give a product of our love?

Music is enchanting.

I hear her and I feel my feet go behind me as my body bends behind and as her notes deepen I stand straight, my hands behind my back, my mirror showing my body, like a dream I seem sunken, my gray hair like a halo.

My feet keep shuffling as I do a perfect square, my body moving, when my eyes are opened and I don’t feel clumsy or fat anymore.

I feel ashamed to ask myself if I dance good, but instead I just keep dancing until she rests her eyes, gets a tumbler and drinks her yellow tea with cinnamon. I’ve seen her in the Sainsbury’s downstairs shuffling through boxes. She’s smaller than I am.

I feel her behind.

I could give her a name.

There was an old french movie and the man had called her Diana, but I had known a Diana in high school, so I just didn’t.

I also ask myself, what would inspire myself to pick up my own cello?

Would Ligeti inspire me again or will my sorrow last, until I will such sorrow, which will inspire me to write?

But then my inspiration is dancing, no matter how short the step will be.

I hear a knock on the door, the bell long broken, so that no tacky birds sing and I’m in flannel, opened with just my light blue bra underneath. I end up buttoning my shirt with realizing that the music is gone.


I literally added a few lines and wrote the ending for this chapter, I feel just as inspired about Cathy's story as usual and let's face it I have a thing for gray haired butch women XD they're just eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

even if I end up with curly closer to femme ones and they beat my day any time C:

I decided to check on the movie I mention earlier and the amazing translators did Diana instead of Tatiana which was originally (I mean, Diana sounded more exotic than Tanya to a russian person XD)

Thank you and please feel free to request :3

Saturday, 3 August 2013


“One day is not like the other, hell, one hour is not like the other.” Jack says and looks at me with a smile. I caught myself confused and he just shrugs. “Sometimes you want to crawl under the bed, y’know, and sleep. It’s not like you’re even suicidal, it’s about not harming yourself, but letting something natural take you away even just for a while, since death is not coming.”

And Jack keeps smiling, stretching his neck to see the act which had managed to grace our small town which no one even calls home, everyone just keeps taking a train to Glasgow or Edinburgh, I wish I had gone once with Jack, pushing him from behind as we would see excited blokes enter Ann Summers and we would laugh at the erection which reaches their teeth.

“Hey.” And he points to the top of the staircase and I help him up. Jack can stand and even walk, but he’s pretty weak, but he says he walks around his house, but I’ve never been at his to see him walk in the night for water or in the day for a sandwich.

I help him up and he stands for a bit on his own, ignoring the act, but rather looking at the sky and I get the wheelchair up and eventually he sits, giving me a tap on the shoulder and I watch his hair, as his eyes are focused on the small band celebrating a small holiday.

Eventually we leave with the rest of the people, our entertainment limited as our thoughts sometimes, just like mine sometimes. I’m still surprised I managed to talk to Jack today, asking him how he were, Jack looking surprised and agreeing to join me in watching the local band, even if Jack were better. Sometimes he plays at the pub for a small while, as he gets too uncomfortable and Jamie, another band member ends up being drunk by the end of it. I’ve heard rumours between those two, which had given me hope that maybe Jack was gay, there were never any women around Jack, just men. While Jamie had both genders always around him with drugs.

I keep pushing him, as he forgot to charge his wheelchair and I see him start biting his fingernails.

“Hey, so.” He doesn’t finnish it for a while and looks behind at me and stops to look at me. I really don’t think he’s blind, so we stop in front of a hill. “Hey, just step up and we can just go down, I do that often by myself anyway, you’ll be more weight at least.”

He smirks and I push forward, feeling fear drain my teeth in, as its a short ride, but I still get scared and I stop too early, causing Jack to laugh.

“Sometimes, I just like going fast. That’s why I don’t think I should get a license. Not that I’d get it anyway, I’m too weak.” And he stretches out his arms. I can’t help but notice how upwards his lips have been and I look at his hair which I’ve tried copying but in the end just chopped it all off, thinking that he wouldn’t notice me. My sister when she found out my crush, it wasn’t about it being homosexual, but more like why would I go for handicapped person, which made me cut off the conversation.

Sometimes I wish we were both female, we’d still be gay, but it would be more normal for me to hold him regardless of closure, and I would like to hold him. I would like to press my forehead against his shoulder if we were laying down and fuck, his lips. We’re walking in silence, so I feel myself daze off as I see myself taking off his shirt, licking his nipples, as he grins, pushing my head down to the target and I undo the buttons of his jeans.

I trace my tongue lower and lower, Jack breathing deeper, grabbing my hair and pulling it, spreading out his legs and I take off his jeans. I would notice how skinnier his legs are than mine, but I don’t think I would care, I would just tug his underwear down, revealing his cock and instantly taking it in my mouth, Jack clutching the bed sheets with his other hand, thrusting harder in my mouth.

“Fuck, Brian.” He’d say and I would keep sucking, touching myself to the feeling of his in my mouth and I would be booming him faster and faster, feeling his cock get harder and harder in my mouth, throb and I take his cock out, sucking just on his tip, watching how heavily he is breathing and I take it fully in my mouth as he comes in my mouth.

I get an erection from these thoughts and I’m glad I’m behind Jack, which sounds ironic, but I’m happy that he’s just humming some tune he had written a few days ago.

Jack turns to look at me in the eye, barely moving, trying to catch every reaction he can get out of me and we stop for the traffic light, if I were alone, I would cross, but I don’t, instead I hold the wheelchair tighter.

“I hate how even dumb shit like Harry Potter doesn’t have any LGBT representation. In the end there is no nostalgia in your head, as all depicted something you’ll never have, no?” Jack says and I feel myself blush, feeling myself outed and Jack smirks, fixing his hair. We cross the road and I lean forward to be above him and it’s late already and people are either driving back or are back at the square spilling cheap beer.

I start shaking and I feel a bit short of breath, closing my eyes, teeth even pressed firmly together as I feel Jack’s fingers go to my temple and I can feel him smile from this short distance and I start shaking even harder, terrified, not about people seeing me, but about being touched by another boy. I open my mouth and he traces his index fingertip on my lip, pulling it slightly. I open my eyes and he sticks his tongue in my mouth, pulling me lower harshly and I feel turned out, his hand running through my short hair as I let my hands wander on his chest, sliding under his shirt, feeling how burning his skin is and touching someone else’s skin for the first time seems too hot and fuck.

I pull away and Jack has a smug grin, as he nods to go faster and I don’t say anything, as I see Jack playing with the buttons on his shirt and as we are going back to his, he sometimes looks at me, raises himself and licks my lips.

Eventually we make to his, he holds onto the walls, getting used to being back on his feet again and then he presses me harshly against the wall, his hand in front of my pants, stroking my crotch as he keeps looking at me as his fingers slide into my underwear and fuck, he takes my cock in his hand and I start moaning, feeling myself harden ever than before, that it even aches.

“Shhhh.” Jack says softly, holding onto the drawer near by, stroking my cock up and down, not bothering to take off my jeans. He sees how timid I am.

He goes down on his knees, opens his mouth and slowly licks my tip before taking it fully in his mouth and I fucking gasp, accidentally banging my hand against the wall, but then I bite my own hand, embarrassed of the whole action of another man sucking me off.

I can’t stop gasping and sliding in and out of his mouth, as he keeps booming me, his eyes fixed on me.

“Fuck, Jack. Fuck, fuck.” I whisper, grabbing hold of his hair and pulling it as I scream and I come in his mouth, holding his mouth where I want it to be. My knees shake harder as I come and I nearly collapse on the ground next to Jack, but isntead I feel my whole face redden and I see Jack tracing his fingers on my stomach.

“Can I fuck you?” He grins, tilting his head and I just nod, to which Jack takes me to his bedroom, I presume, I don’t notice the posters even on the ceiling and the mixture of fake glow in the dark stars as I feel him penetrate me for the first time and it fucking aches.

“Fuck! You ain’t a virgin?” Jack smirks as he reaches out for a drawer, raiding for lube and eventually he finds some, kissing me, stroking my cock again, up and down, teasing the tip with his fingers. “I’m sorry, fuck.”

He is stroking my hair.

“I got carried away.” I just reach out for his mouth and kiss him harder.

“You can fuck me if you want.”

“I want both.” And I let my tongue in, our tongues touching and my erection is back and I forget about the pain, as he lets a lubricated finger in, slowly and I arch my back in pleasure, moaning, looking at Jack in the eye before he starts licking my neck, we don’t hold long enough and soon enough he is fucking me, his dick is inside me and it feels fucking great as my own hips want more of him, as pleasure rocks through my body with every thrust and I spread my legs wider. I pull his hair again, to get him closer as our tongues touch out of our mouths and my cock is nearly fucking exploding.

“I’m near.” And that makes Jack come inside me, as he bites my neck hard and I gasp in release as my hips thrust harder against Jack’s cock, harder and harder until I feel numb, until all I want is lips and I kiss him, harder and harder, until I feel myself slip away somewhere with Jack, into a day where he will be.


I was about to post it and I realised I had no title (as usual XD) and I was looking thro-

Oh, spoilers, XD anyway, I was looking at a article related to shall we say Jack's character and I saw the word extend and it fits it perfectly.

Jack and Brian live in the middle of nowhere and yesterday me and Callie were in such middle of nowhere, which I told that could easily be the setting.

I've been very excited about this story as it actually came to me in a dream. That I was besides Jack White on such small town event and then we were rolling on a wheel chair (Jack wasn't actually disabled in my dream) so I kept thinking and in reality I don't know much disabled LGBT characters unfortunately and we should all be represented. Jack became a very deep character and unfortunately I can't tell much at this point, but about the dream, I woke up, inspired and started thinking, I surely didn't want a heterosexual romance, enough of those and sick of them, sorry. And then I remembered the Brian Molko request and things fit perfectly.

I've been dying to discuss depression and mental health issues, which are taboo in our society and even in my head, so I wanted a character who deals with depression and other aspects, someone actually open, as I've dealt with different issues but not depression face to face.

I've been pretty down as I've said before and I woke up, inspired and I finally felt alive again, not that I wasn't, but I actually felt inspired again, heavily, to write, like I had been with the first chapters of Working Mica and Working Mica in general, I could see the characters, I would think about the twists and turns for the past days and I still do.

I don't believe in Writer's Block, it's all bullshit, I'm very sorry, if you ask me, it's a excuse for "writers" and during my life I've seen enough "writers".

The only thing which can be called writer's block, is sorrow, depression. There is this amazing quote by Radclyffe Hall in The Well Of Loneliness which says (unfortunately I'm sleepy and the quote cannot be found online for some bizarre reason) that there are two different types of sorrows, one which causes you to write, but Stephen had the other. Well, I was with Stephen, with my health fucked up and away from home.

I'm still recovering and I'm waiting for my exam results which should come on Tuesday, which are making me anxious.

I'm now home, but yeah, the exam results are hanging upon me and it's awful.

So, I guess, please wish me luck.

I hope you enjoyed it as much as I did,

Thank you and please feel free to request, please please XD


Friday, 2 August 2013

Martyr Love

It’s not about turning on Melissa Etheridge at the right moment or choosing the right gal, in the end, it’s more about tilting the stetson and the more I think of it, the more I want to try kissing a random girl, as if I am back to being a teenager reading romance novels where girls don’t end up with girls.

I don’t care about the coworker looking at a magazine and talking about Jack White’s recent light.

“Men.” I say to her, knowing that my sexuality is still hidden like a letter in a post office.

It’s about not knowing who you will get to waltz with, it’s like a club with the daylight and I see a green haired girl, who is with a young boy, maybe her child. And I ask her if there is anything she needs and the boy clings to her.

I know some lesbians do mistakes and I just feel open all of a sudden, there was a bad translation of a movie, where a line was added, saying that the heroine of the movie wanted her life to be an american movie for a day.

So I keep arranging the magazines all over, wondering how come Jack White isn’t all over the covers, but I know he will be, tomorrow as I don’t kiss the green haired girl, who surely earns more than I do, as I work at something as simply as WHSmith where sometimes reminds me of a better version of The Works and if Argos would sell magazines.

I know that if I grab her to kiss her, that would not have her consent and it would be an American movie then, though.


The title is not a pun on Zoe Devlin-Love, please XD it's there because I had White Stripes on and I do sometimes find it hard with artists I am not familiar deeply with, so yeah:)

And I've been pretty inspired with the Brian Molko request I've been blabbering about, which will be up TOMORROW XD yay XD I'm really excited about it, because I've been tired, exhausted and down and it just came to me as a miracle the idea and everything XD I've been thinking about it all the time recently and developing it XD

Thank you and please feel free to request, I've even written a line for the next chapter x3 XD


Thursday, 1 August 2013

Post-Mermaid Tears

Can you be a gay icon without being gay?

You can, people put different bizarre women as icons.

If I agree with that or not, that’s a different matter.

But can a gay icon be someone who hasn’t written in your face gay work?

I mean Oscar Wilde, sure Dorian is pretty gay, but it’s not gay gay like The Well Of Loneliness, I don’t even know why I managed to pick up a lesbian book, it’s interesting how it’s on the verge of transsexuality, with Stephen being close to a transman, but not really. The point would be that back then, we didn’t have a stereotypical butch lady, hell, lesbianism was weird.

I should have guts to pick up novels by gay men for gay men instead of a jumping over the hills Wilde.

I want to be this person who is feminine and who is not.

Your face is beautiful, but only when I look at it from a distance, so I don’t see you and my fingers aren’t needed.

Thinking with more thought, to the naked eye all butch women are transmen, well, to heterosexual people and I didn’t know what even gay was until recent.

I want to slip my lip into two, just to feel the pain or rather see the pain, with the blood flowing downwards maybe after I see you buying me a Snickers bar and I stop counting the money, but I’ll still get dragged to the psychologist and it scares me.

It reminds me of the closed doors, that one time when snow managed to cover the ground and I walked around, seeing the church my mother remembered while being pregnant with me and I wonder if I should find God, so wrapping the red scarf tighter, I walk closer through the thin snow, still feeling cold, no one else covering the street and the doors end up closed.

I know I’ve sinned and I knew I was gay, but I still wanted to be accepted, I wanted to walk behind the altar, I wanted to have my hair taken away, I wanted to feel water fall on me from a kettle due to the lack of funds or rather the church saving money for ridiculous golden ornaments.

My anxiety reminds me of a snake, attacking and biting me, it’s so long and I don’t know where it ends and it sometimes hides under the covers, so that when I lift them up I think I see you, but it’s not it’s more anxiety and depression that I get a razor blade and I get scared, looking around with the borrowed books and I slash my lip open, making sure the blade reaches the teeth and blood gushes out on my white pajamas and I walk out, looking like a ghost, wondering why can’t I be chained to immortality without hunger and the numbers counting in my head, but then the snake bites whatever it gets.

I can’t talk and I’m swallowing blood already.

You grab my shoulders and I wish I could faint, you start shaking me more violently and I grab all the power I’ve got inside me and I know I’m beautiful with all the pain leaving my body with regret and anxiety awaiting me in the morning.

I grab you and I kiss you with my destroyed lips which will never touch you again and I am the snake for once. I am your snake. I am your anxiety under the covers. I am your sexual desires. I’m that bloke you’ve kissed once and then married a lass.


I've actually written this quite a while ago and yeah, I'm sorry that I've put the Zoe Devlin Love request on hold, but it should be up soon .w. sorry about that, so in the meantime, I had this written so here it is.

I'm pretty much in the other Brian Molko story at the moment, which I will also upload soon :O

Ok, about this story, I'm pretty much exhausted and when I'm exhausted and troubled, Richey is always there and the mood matches his, not exactly, but yeah, so I was very happy to write Richey once more and Richey always has a special place in my heart and so does Nicky Wire, of course his space has lots of glitter and a Wales flag and etc etc etc XD

It's called Post-Mermaid Tears because I bought a nail varnish and the name was Mermaid Tears which caught my eye as a bizarre and even tacky choice, but I liked it as a story title and post, well, I admit, I just felt like the vibe, so yeah >.>

Please feel free to request :D

I know you ship Richey/Nicky.