Sunday, 28 August 2016

Relationship Values 9

I don't think people think much of the person who does the break up, because we are always portrayed as villains and there seems to be no notion that we are breaking up from the inside or from those who just walk away. Or maybe I'm just trying to make myself feel better in a way. Because if you don't make yourself feel better, no one will. I don't think people understand the grief of being the one to do the final shot and to actually shoot something living. It's like releasing the spider to bite you sooner, it's being the one to pull the plug, because it's better to break up than to be broken up with. Because from that time, you don't see the other person as an item with yourself and you see all the quirks which irritate and that's all. It's stepping back when you weren't an item and before I had fallen in love, only now there's no love ahead and the glasses are long broken with the pink glass under one's heel.

I grasp onto him, as he gets my hair out of my eyes, so that it doesn't get drenched in tears and I just stare at him, gasping for air in the midst of a hysteria and watching him.

Why does the love never go away?

Why is it never a love story between us? Why is there a tainted past?

I want to be the one to pin him down, I want to be Jack and now make love to him.

I realize how messy I am with my hair, my shaking hands and my desire to feel his love again. But I still clutch him, as he pulls me closer, but I lean back, so that I can have a good look on what I'm missing and age barely touches him, he looks different on his Facebook photos, which age him and photos never did him justice. I start hiccuping and I don't let him go, grabbing onto his arms, as he tries to stand up.

“I'll just get some water for you, Alison. It'll be alright.” And that causes me to bawl even more. I'll never know if he even loves me anymore. I just tell myself that now he's holding me in his arms and it's not like he's avoiding my calls like he once did. Somehow my hysterias just get cut off short sometimes and I let him go, my breathing easing, but I still remain under the counter, pressing my head against the table and wondering if I could even tell him about Lana, even now. I don't know how does pure honesty trigger someone back in to sleep in the same bed, though.

It's as if I make a deal with myself that he'd get back to me or even consider, if I were to tell the damn truth for once. I just would paint Lana as a villain because I loved her too much to even state something else, because I couldn't face myself to say anything else other than filth and lies. Jamie pours some water and quickly gives it to me. He motions for me to drink it, as I just stare ahead, both hands on the poor glass. Jamie keeps standing and I just stand up myself, shaking and even spilling some water, but instead we are caught in an insane stare, as if his anger came back and he knows, coming back here, that I have never changed and I'm still the same, while he had made a living for himself.

I don't even know where to start.

I rub my eye and get mascara on my hands, as I sniff, looking down on it.

“I really loved you.” I don't look up, biting my lip. “Who am I kidding, I still love you.”

I see Jamie shift from one leg to another and I can't stand to even look at him in the face.

“Yeah, I choose you because you would never charge me. I'm literally fighting nail and teeth for this, I don't need more of my saving going elsewhere.” I keep looking down and wondering if he even wants my honesty, why am I crying about Lana and confessing to another man. “But it was mostly...”

I look up to see him concentrated and just as sad as I would like him to be.

“Mostly...” I loose my trail of thinking and sigh, rubbing my eyes. “Because I wanted to talk to you again. Even if it were just for a few days and you would never talk to me again. Because... it's like choosing to meet the love of your life-”

He tenses up.

“Once and for one day than not meeting them at all.” I sniff. I close my eyes, knowing what's about to happen next.

“You asked for a divorce on one morning, Alison. No explanation, nothing.” His own voice breaks and I can't stand to even look at him. “You claim you want to be alone, but you barely leave the house anymore. You've started drawing less and less-”

I start crying again and my hands are glued to my face. He doesn't touch me either because he doesn't love me or on the opposite loves me far too much.

“You haven't done a show in a while, you're still living off that one successful show you had, you sell some paintings here and there, but you're not doing anything big. Nothing like you've stated I was holding you back from...” I hear him do one step towards me, but my eyes are too blurry to see and I keep gasping to even hear him clearly. “Maybe you should've just admitted that-”

I'm sure Jamie is choosing the right words, making a break just to ruffle everything twice in his head.

“It was never what you wanted?” And he asks and he's hovering near me, as I put my shaking hands down and I want to desperately-

Let us be in a lie.

His hands are on both sides of me and he's caught me again. I look at him, trying to see any other outcome with his hands like this, before I fucking lean closer, my whole body trembling for his touch. I search for something else in his eyes, anything,

but he's just as desperately broken as I am.

We consume each other, hungrily and I don't even remember the taste of any other kisses, as this one just manages to shield them all. He grabs me and I know everything he's saying through kissing me, teeth, tongue and lips. It's not that the world gets painted black, it feels like a death kiss of desperation, when you know you've got some impending doom, but it lingers like an underlying taste, with his hands in my hair, as he keeps on kissing me, pushing me further against the counter, then breaking the kiss just to travel to my neck and suck on it.

I pull his hair. He doesn't stop and I moan. Both of us paralyzed at the sudden display of noise, but he eases, kissing my neck softer and probably now with his eyes opened, wondering what have we both done.

What have we done.

I regret not holding him on my lips, as he just kisses my neck one last time.

I regret not memorizing the kiss with the most lust I've seen, but he leans back and we're both heavily breathing. We would never have this while we were married, everything was happy and idyllic.

Jamie brings a hand to his mouth, as if trying to see if the kiss was real, as he just watches me, never looking anywhere else.

I could never find us in books, because no one would bother to write a queer couple. Now, I see. I just breathe heavier, because now we're both faced with a future where we decide where do we go now.

I still don't even know how to even admit to myself that I need him. I'm not ready, but I want to kiss him again, so where does the truth actually spit lies? Where is the lying truth? It's as if we could both call it a night to sleep on it.

I look at him.

It's only always me who needs the night to think.

I need to break him out of his bubble.

“I... Can't.” I say and he just sigh heavily, tensing up and crossing his arms. “I lied to you.”

Jamie tenses up even more.

“Not about us.” He eases.

“Lana.” I say and then my throat goes dry, as he just watches me confused. I raid the counter behind me for cigarettes even if I damn well know they are in my pocket, so instead he just stretches out a pack from his own pocket and hands me one. Then he fishes out the lighter from the same pocket, clicking it a few times before the flame finally emerges and then he allows it to lick the cigarette tip, before he gets one for himself just in case.

“What about your sister?” Jamie asks completely lost and bewildered still from the kiss.

I'm no longer crying and I think I've got a hickey on my neck from my ex-husband.


I was actually avoiding updating a different story which I've been super struggling with for a good while now and I felt like listening to Marina and the Diamonds so then the question arose, which story would be fitting and Callie suggested RV which kind of caught my eye. When I have no idea which story to pick up, Callie always comes to help me out xD 

I wrote this in one sitting and I'm sorry that it's a bit shorter than the previous chapter, but I quite enjoy how it turned out and whatnot. I kind of really went not knowing where to go and just kept writing and story telling, until I knew that I wanted them to kiss and Alison to speak about Lana. 

For some reason I've been recalling my previous relationship which was years ago, because I stumbled onto an old Arctic Monkeys song which reminded me of her (crazy times when I had a girlfriend, before I knew I was trans and gay) and I broke up with her because I couldn't take it anymore and kind of all that thinking gave way into the first chapter of this story. 

I listened to Marina all up to their kiss, which I think shows very explicitly when I was listening to The Cure xD I've kind of been on the topic of coming back to old lovers when it comes to fanfiction and whatnot, so it's been quite a reaccuring theme which I've been exploiting to the maximum. 

Jamie playing with Alison's hair and the overall hairplay came to my mind because of a gifset where there's Jamie fixing Alison's hair and Jack White as well. 

I like having Alison as nonbinary, which is just a headcanon I have and kind of I like writing the bloke and nb dynamic because I am in one with Callie so of course it strikes home for me. 

Callie is my editor and she nagged that I should write a bit more to make the ending far more dramatic than Alison just saying Lana's name, so that's where Jamie's sentence was added and I left the hickey line last because it was a good ending in my opinion. 

I'm super tired after doing this sprint and posting it, so I may have left out some things simply because I got tired xD

If you liked it, please tell me so:)

Thank you so much for your support



Thursday, 25 August 2016

Brian's Unfolded Chase Events 2

I lay with my eyes open the whole damn night up the point that I could paint the sky when it starts going lighter. Once it reaches the state when you no longer need artificial light, I dress up, hoping not to wake my parents up in any way. It becomes soon enough a habit to sneak out without any food, as if it's a good way to hallucinate, but in reality it's only because I don't want to wake them up and I can get much more food in a store, once it opens before school. I dress in the plain black uniform, wondering how come they skipped a chance to make it navy blue or some other bullshit. But instead it matches the nails I had chipped off nearly entirely through the course of the night.

I tried not to think much when it came to Jamie, but it's odd to have a lover I had never touched and only suspected which was queer. I end up missing someone who spoke out when it came to me. Now it's just silence, even when I show up in the girl's uniform to school and I wonder is it some sort of silent respect because he had told them that? I ended up buying more roses and placing them on his desk, pondering on his death.

No one really found out how come there was a body which had never drowned, never choked and never been killed laying there dead in the river. It just seemed to be a mystery which slipped from everyone's fingers and life just happened to go on. But I would end up pondering on his life far too much, eventually I had heard as I was smoking outside a gay bar, that he would show up around there or from another guy that he had kissed. It seemed that I was getting to know a dead man, as if he would show up next to me, smoking and telling me everything.

I end up walking around five a.m. when the dawn had started breaking the morning loose, reminding the clouds to start the chaos of hanging above us, as if they were all martyrs. I sit on the stairs of an old building which barely has any windows and a cafe from the other side of the city and as all old towns I wonder who inhabits everything. I just sit there, cigarette between teeth and suddenly the tears come to me, before I close my eyes and I keep them such, searching for a lighter, until I hear a flick and with my eyes still closed I welcome the light, inhaling slowly.

I smell far too many roses and the steps below me become much softer. It feels like entering a dream with a slow, melancholic kiss and I see him in front of me, the city becoming a softer shade of pink until it vanishes to a pink abyss and he's holding the lighter.

I exhale and he's gone, back to the city, until I turn around and I see him left of me. Standing and smoking, taller than me in heels. I just stare at him with awe, because he's literally a great mirage from the dead and I can only blame my sleep deprivation for it, as he motions for me to make way and I do so, as he checks to make sure my cigarette is still burning. He pokes my cigarette and eventually takes a silver lipstick out of his pocket, stretching it out to me.

I don't say anything and neither does he, smoking the cigarette in silence, as I hold the lipstick close, examining it but not opening it yet or breaking the package apart. Jamie looks at me very softly and even turns so that he can observe me and it's far too intimate, that I don't hold and break the seal of the lipstick, wondering if perhaps he had wanted me to wait until he would be gone. But it's too late as I open it and colours start flying out of it, making a whirl around me as he keeps watching me, exhaling, without even blinking possibly.

I feel myself become light weight, a strange feeling of comfort overwhelming me as I look up and I'm back in the pink void. My body seems as if it's shattering and fusing, some weird sense of pride taking over and magic like I've never felt before. As I open my eyes I'm back to the uniform, Jamie is gone and I'm holding a long sword in its big purple case. I turn around to see him clapping, nearly making the first question I'll ever ask him again why is he hiding behind me and why am I suddenly still in the skirt uniform. I don't even have the courage to ask him anything, just stare at him and wonder oh why did he die.

My cigarette is long gone with the staff apparently taking it as some prize, I assume as the dead Jamie walks up to me and claps as he does it, before putting his hand on my shoulder.

“You'll be the one to change the world.”


Sometimes I just panic terribly about posting stuff and today is unfortunately one of the days. I wrote this yesterday in one go and had it ready since then. I was just thinking and kind of felt like going back and picking up this story which frankly didn't get much more attention when it should've. 

It's just plain story telling with this one though.

I didn't really set this with some specific city in mind, when I was a kid I would dream a lot of the same town, not knowing it and each night I would take let's say a different turn to another street instead of the previous' time and that's how I kind of ended up exploring. 

Also I started thinking what if I did a Brian/Jamie story where I killed off Jamie in the beginning and then as I remembered this story (I write so much that I have to reread the written chapters to recall where I dropped off or something even what is even going on and since I jump from story to story writing one chapter or so only besides a few rare exceptions) I was pleased to see that my idea was already inhabited into this story. 

I chose a sword because fuck yeah Utena, really. 

I know this backstory is terribly short, but I really just went I'm going to continue this and I just sat and even if I struggled, I got this story down and yeah.

I hope you enjoyed it and if you did, just tell me about it:)

Thank you for all your support



Monday, 22 August 2016

No. 1 Party Anthem 9

I couldn't get the idea that he just saw me as a friend away from my mind. It's as if there was something else I wanted to unfold even if I knew that to Alex I was just a plain shag. So I had decided to kill some time and I was horny one night, making everything even more regretful which caused Jamie to sneak back into my bed, right after I had changed the sheets after the bad hookup. We even both smoked inside, Jamie more for company and laughing at the guy who had cum in under ten minutes, making it officially my worst Grindr shag and it wasn't even the shag which bothered me, but rather the fact that I had done it behind Alex's back and that somehow had made my brain to tick in odd ways, which only made Jamie hold me close and I knew that I had just loved him so long ago and now I was left dwelling on what to do with Alex.

“Miles, why don't you just close the whole damn story off, by telling him that you love him?” I glared at him. He only put his cigarette to his mouth, breathing the smoke out by looking upwards. “Okay, why don't you tell him that you like him, despite all his sick behaviour? I mean, you clearly want to try it out with him. What's stopping you?”

“Arielle?” I nearly laugh at his face and his reaction, but Jamie just shrugs.

“You clearly like him.” I see that he's going in circles to try and drill it into my head, but I try to push away the clearly bad hookup and the feelings of guilt with a boyfriend I don't even have. I try to avoid Jamie's dark green eyes, to make sure that I don't catch even more guilt of a different subject. My mind goes blank, just my body shivering and I don't feel Jamie stroking my back and reaching for another cigarette, as he lights another one for me as well. I still don't know how long will the taste last of trying someone else. All I see is how the day drastically took its turn and it's going darker now, reminding of a shallow winter end.

It takes me a while to call Alex and even then I don't really know what to say, before I call it feels like I'm holding an old receiver on the end and listening to the phone silence from both sides. I don't know how long this melancholy lasts as Jamie just ignores the text Brian had sent him without reading it, he deleted it and moved on. I wondered if I could be as single that way if Alex would've left me for good. And I know that I am attaching when nothing is really going on and we had barely talked and everything is physical.

I don't even move from my couch, just sitting there with the laptop besides me, reading useless information just to tone the brain down. I can't comprehend the days which are passing.

You're supposed to call your friends whenever you are feeling down or confused.

Alex is supposedly my friend.

But it feels far too confusing, I feel like I am terribly displeased where things are going, where it's only him who calls and we just pick it up wherever we had left it off sex-wise and that's it, I feel like I am an experimenting rat, even if Jamie is right and if he doesn't say it, I know that behind his eyes he thinks that I shouldn't have involved myself with this at all. It's like going back to a bad shag, it shouldn't be happening. I end up crying slightly, not much because I'm unused to it but because I've locked myself up for days and in between work I feel like I'm not glued together anymore, I can feel myself coming apart. I can no longer find things which entertain me and movies just irritate me along with books, which Jamie sometimes brings to tell me to try and read along with movie suggestions. If we do sit together and watch something I'm on my phone or I end up just looking away, not feeling anything. Even when he hugs me goodbye I don't feel any lost love anymore which I wished was mutual. I'm going bonkers.

I decide to even try being the silence on the receiver I am scared of and I call him. It takes a while for him to pick up, as I check the time and with this never ending darkness it's close to midnight, but I'm sure he's awake.

We never talk.

If he wants to be friends, fine.

Eventually I hear a rather careless hello and I hope I'm not distracting him from anything and I swear that I don't want it to be something like having sex with Arielle, but his breathing is even and he waits for me to say something, until I greet him back but at the same time, he just picks up.

“What's up, Miles?” I wish we were back to the said receiver time, where he wouldn't know that it were me and I could just listen to his breathing and then go to sleep, using it as a lullaby. But instead he knows that I'm calling and eventually I hear him drink from something and some movie in the back, soon enough I hear Arielle's laughter. I'm guessing it's a comedy.

I could call him over, after all Arielle does that all the time from what I've gathered from the man himself. I wondered how would it be to date someone so extroverted and obsessed with friends, but then whoever would have had to deal with Jamie being over all the time or back when Jamie was with Brian, it would have been an endless double date with all four of us together. I guess we all don't differ that much from others.

“I'm not feeling too well.” I confess rather gingerly, but possessively, really hoping to drag him over. I could see Alex looking back at Arielle, who would be immersed into her heterosexual movie. I wondered how is it like to even have a girlfriend, since I never really troubled much and how would it be like to have one today, but that sounds so bizarre that I could easier imagine Martians than me with a girlfriend.

“Oh... well.” Then Alex ponders and looks back at Arielle I presume, who now noticed that something is going on. I imagine everything rather vividly for me to stay sane. “You need anything? Anything I can help with?”

I smile as he asks and I rub my eye, which is still weird from the brief crying episode I had.

“Yeah, if you could come over that would be great. If that's... not too late for you.” I'm really playing all my cards and I hope that he doesn't really feel it. I hear him press me against some fabric, so it could be either his shirt or the material of the couch, as I imagine him asking Arielle, as all I hear is something muffled and I imagine her waving that it's alright. But it's not that easy, it actually takes a while where I become worried, that what if it is far too late and his girlfriend wouldn't let him out after all and I'm left to be alone and dragging Jamie over for the billionth time and hearing him complain that I should at least go out and buy some cigarettes, even if I had stocked up for the week. I wait a bit more and I feel like dropping the call, just because my anxiety reaches its peak.

But eventually he picks up the phone again and I hear his breathing once more.

“Yeah, I'll be right over.” And I hear some cheer in his voice, where I can't help but ask, why are you with your girlfriend then, if you're so cheerful to come to your lover?

I mean, friend with benefits. As I wait for him, I ponder and wonder how come we haven't talked that much of ourselves, how come we only ever talk about sex and that's it, if he wants to be friends so badly and I don't even know how to make both of us talk, because I'd be too nervous to talk first and he doesn't even want to do those steps.

“Great, thanks, I'll see you then.” I reply, feeling odd that I am literally the one igniting the fire which is supposed to take over the city in a ring, but somehow Arielle is still oblivious. Is it because we are both men? Would it be different if I were a woman, then? Is it because society is so oblivious to men having relationships among themselves that even cheating is something which just slips someone's mind.

I end up crying again, pondering if I need to go on some medication like Jamie goes on sometimes, but it could be simply because I happen to be too tired or maybe people cry rather often and I am just not notified of it, so when I cry once a year it's just a big deal. I know Jamie cries far more often, but I just end up under the list of people who rarely cry. I end up smoking two cigarettes in a row, going outside just to breathe the air instead of smoking next to the window and I feel a bit agoraphobic, not used to being outside of my small apartment which could've been some rich person's cupboard if I imagined hard enough. It's a nightmare to find a place to rent, so anything is up for grabs, even some cupboard and Jamie's place is nearly identical to mine, only with a bit more space which now is empty without Brian's discarded clothes and ruined make up here and there. I wonder how even is it to live without an old lover now. But I can't ask Jamie that, not while he is grieving at least. It's odd that love can be compared to death in some way, losing someone is always like death, it's like a small glimpse of how it feels to lose someone completely.

I remember once I got asked in class whether a parent's death hurts more or a parent's divorce and the answer was divorce, even if I protested the teacher, because the parent leaves, leaving the child wondering what had they done wrong and so on and so on. But wouldn't death be the same thing? If fate is a bunch of additions of our actions, wouldn't someone's death be the same thing? Why had we ran upon that person's death?

I rub my eyes, discarding the cigarette in the nearby trash bin, shivering at the sudden cold wind.

Alex should be here soon, since there is no traffic and frankly the buses are rather fast at this hour. Of course unless he missed the one he was supposed to get. But I end up waiting for him outside, sitting next to the building, freezing, but allowing myself to keep sitting here, even if I could catch a cold. I wish I had a pet, but then I would have to take care of it as well and that is fucking hard, because I can't even get myself to go outside these days. Maybe I just want to be loved. I severely hold from getting a third cigarette, when I see a familiar man in a leather jacket, probably freezing as well under all the romantic street lights. He waves at me and we are no lovers to run to each other.

“You look like shit.” He raises his voice, as he approaches me and gives me a brief pat on the back, before sitting besides me. “You alright?”

I put my head on his shoulder and he doesn't move it away. I don't know what's with me, but I can't really tell him that I started thinking of you and suddenly the world became a gloomy place for me. Because if I were to tell that to someone they would just tell me to cry a river or ask if that were it? But sometimes the problem is dug under what the nails can reach. Maybe I am depressed all of a sudden and there is something wrong with me or I could just be sad and lovestruck, who knows.

“No, I haven't been too well recently.” I confess as Alex just turns his head and looks down on me. I glance at his lips. There I go again with the sexual tension and release. Well, he is a good fuck.

I don't even know where to start.

I want us to be lovers at least, but we've discussed it before and he said that we should be friends with benefits instead. I just sigh and somehow, he gets the hint that I need some silence with him, but all the does is get a cigarette and light it. Is this how friends would work as well? I'm used to being close with Jamie but we've always struggled with weird feelings, so we overstepped the barrier of closeness. But then, I'm fucking Alex so there is no sense of barriers of course. I could be fucking him right now and it would still be seen as friendly terms.

We hold our silence, but Alex decides to interrupt it.

“If you want to keep quiet, that's okay, but I just... want to make sure that you're okay, that's all.” Alex says and nudges me with his shoulder and pauses. “I forgot what I was going to say, but silence is okay too.”

And he pats me on the head.

All of a sudden I want affection, but I don't want sex, I don't want mindless fucking I could get out of any grindr hookup, I want to make love at least or even kiss him. So I pull him towards me and he kisses me even before I do, shifting closer to me to a more comofortable position as we both straighten up and make out, I see that he's seeing it as more passion making, so I try to slow down and eventually he gets the hint and does so as well. I can taste stars in his kissing-

Eventually we both get cold and laugh as we break the kiss.

“I think we should go back to yours, Miles.” He tells me and I just nod, standing up as he puts his arm around me and we just go inside, walking up the stairs and straight up to the apartment. Opening it, feels like freeing a can of worms all over again, because I can taste all the depression which I have been bottling up and not to mention completely stale air. I excuse the fact that some clothes are laying around in corners, just because the laundry bag is full, but Alex pays no attention, taking off his shoes, but sticking to his leather jacket for warmth for the time being. I grab a sweater from the floor and use it for warmth as I pull it on.

“Do you want some tea, maybe?” I ask him, as he nods and I know that we both need something warm for our stale hearts. So I get us both to the tiny part of the kitchen and Alex sits next to the small table, fiddling with a cigarette box, not forcing me to talk or anything, which I'd terribly thankful.

Do I even have the guts to even say anything at all?

But then I recall that I wanted to hear more about him, more than anything else. I bite my tongue, the right question popping in my head, as I turn around with both tea mugs and I'm sure he notices my shady smile, as he just nods at me, confused, pondering what do I have under my sleeve.

“Just because I'm depressed... and I feel like listening.” I get the courage to ask the right question as I observe him. He's deadly attractive with his quiff and well put attire compared to my old t-shirt which I rolled in all day today. “When did you first start thinking of guys?”

Alex laughs at me.

“Is this what you want to talk about, friend?” He asks, reminding me that we're supposed to be friends, but I seem to be cooking up all the right answers in my dumb head.

“Well, I need to get to know you better, before anything else happens.” I say and blow on the tea, just to keep myself occupied, as I wait for Alex to put sugar in his tea. Then it's my turn and he still hasn't spoken. I wonder how much of a late bloomer is he actually.

“Well...” And he keeps his mouth open to speak. “I was kind of always attracted to girls, it was only later that men came to me. It would just be... like oh, that guy is good looking. Or something like that. Then...”

He sighs.

“Once Arielle was out and I saw this really good looking guy, this was a few months ago. I really would just see attractive men until then, but never thought much. But this one guy which I saw on the underground got me thinking a lot. And I just wondered how would it feel you know...” He shrugs, looking away. “And that got me fired up. I wanked. It was good. Then I checked on porn.”

He taps the mug and rubs his nose, avoiding my gaze.

“Didn't you say you never wanked to a bloke?” I ask him, recalling our first conversation.

“I'm not stupid. I knew I'd be more attractive if I lied.” Alex huffs.

“Just how much gay porn did you watch?” I laugh at him.

“Enough, whenever Arielle would be gone.” He confesses, still looking at his mug, not raising his beautiful eyes. He brings the mug to his lips to blow on it. “I didn't think it would go this far. I thought I could go back to having a clean slate, okay?”

My heart stops briefly.

“I didn't know I'd enjoy gay sex so much.” He whines, putting his head on the table and looking at me. He never changed and I just seem to be praying for some relationship which I don't even want to utter.


 I honestly didn't think I'd be writing milex so fast, I thought that I needed far more time to heal. 

Basically what happened was that I was due to see Kills and TLSP on a festival and Kills cancelled due to Alison's health (I wouldn't have minded a solo Jamie concert, but people think differently xD) so it was just TLSP. Then on the day before there was some train system crash and on the day the trains were cancelled? It was some fucked up shit, so we didn't make it and that just sent me to a deep depressive hole which I'm still struggling to crawl out of, because I haven't had a holiday in ages and I had my parents over so that was a bunch of misgendering and other bullshit, so I really needed somewhere to unwind and that never happened. So that really fucked me over and I'm just starting to listen to a few TLSP songs again, but I just don't think of them touring, I pretend that it's 2014 again and I have no notion of them touring, because otherwise I go crazy. So it's been really rough. But I really love them and I enjoy the stories I write with them, so I really had to just see them as characters rather than performers as I was writing and it worked. 

And I dwell on my depression, because I blame myself a lot for even having it and having two people mock me for it isn't helping. So yeah. That's why I've been so hesitatant with milex stuff. 

But anyway, I'm slowly going back to normal, but at a terribly slow snail pace. 

I wrote this in a few sittings, because the last chapter was done in March a bunch of things happened like the dreaded hookup which screwed me over, so I would open the file and write a few lines, but it's only until yesterday where I sat and wrote the final 2.6 k xD along with today. I really felt on a roll and I wasn't forcing it or feeling tired, I just kept going because I felt like I had this story to tell which I was dying to tell and I know where I wanted this chapter to go and I didn't include everything in this chapter, so maybe I'll even write some more, who knows, but not today, 1.6 k is a bit too much for depressive me and don't forget this backstory.

I just added my sudden depressive fit here, even if I don't know if Miles has a depressive history, but it fit in the mood and I went along with it.

I kind of finished Blue/Jacket which was explicitly set in Stockholm and I kind of miss that, while this story is kind of set in Stockholm, but it could be anywhere, so I don't really add things which stick out, so I kind of pondered if I should make the setting far more explicit, but I don't, but then I think in We've all been broken. the setting is far more explicit, when they meet up next to the booze store for instance, so I don't know. I want to make the setting more subtle here and I kind of set stories in places I either know or live, obviously besides a few stories. But the AUs are surely places I've been to. 

As usual I ponder out loud, like Alex walking out to Miles and Arielle not thinking twice about it. I kind of like just thinking out loud when it comes to cheating here, I really ponder and open up the question of cheating here, don't I? 

The question in class was something I had gotten and I protested that I turned out okay, because I have divorced parents and all was well, so I kind of pondered on that question again. 

Another long sort of backstory and backbone to this chapter was a discussion I had with Callie, where I explicitly said that I was tired of other partners just losing themselves in me that I would have no notion of who they were anymore, because they wouldn't talk about themselves, so that question just ended up in this story. And with Callie, which is different to other partners, we both talk a lot about ourselves, while I get that as a heavy contrast with others. I don't know why, I don't feel like I'm overwhelming. 

I also wanted Alex to speak a lot about himself, but then I realized that before anything like that even happens, Miles needs to know the truth and what was going through Alex's mind. I kind of liked that he lied and is porn educated, which kind of makes the story far more ironic than it already is. 

Also shoutout to heartstruck Miles because he's a cutie. 

I hope you enjoyed it and please tell me if you did so, it'll make my day

Thank you for all your support



PDD or Hypoxyphilia 5

There are plenty of memories which you could swear were real, end up being just wrong assumptions of things and the more I think about composing music, the more anxious I get and ponder on drinking and not doing it sober with the sole fact that it would cure my anxiety and the more you drink the further you are away from getting drunk, so it just becomes a lolly to ease the nervousness. Even know when I pluck the feathers from the dead bird of a relationship, I ponder what was real and what was a blissful lie.

He kept captivating me, because it's not so often that you see a bloke that flamboyant even if we were in theatre class. My own hair was long and in dreads, but his was different and overall he didn't look like he even glanced twice at the scene I was in, he seemed to be some lost child of Bowie, but was far too real and didn't seem to be hiding from his sexuality.

One of the last things we ever did was have sex actually, I was far too pissed off at him and I couldn't bare the thought of even touching him, but we had pinned each other down. I recall how we just both kept making out, flipping over and somehow the anger was fading with each kiss, even if I knew that this was just a matter of time before all the petals would be gone from the flower.

I seemed to fear the future, on how would Brian act, because there is never a messenger from the future telling you that everything is alright. Even if I had juggled attraction to men in the past, I was a terribly late bloomer and I happened to still feel myself as a newbie, because I only had one partner while I could see Brian juggle with many men and break their hearts. I kind of liked drawing him like that with his bright make up I was sure was plenty of.

It wasn't much better when it came to courage when the lesson ended, indicating the short day to be over and Brian waving at me viciously and offering me a cigarette.

You're the first friend I've made here, actually.” He smiled at me, the vicious smile gone and something which I could sweep until I'd find attraction was there.

Once we were done, we just stared at each other and the anger came back.

I blink at his sudden confession, not feeling it not because he's lying but simply the fact that it doesn't seem like he would be a loner with all his bravado, but weren't we all loners and outsiders and I just thank him for the cigarette, as I inhale, thinking what to reply and am I really a friend, since he's been courting me all this time?

That's I guess lovely to hear.” I say and he just picks one of my dreads and tugs on it, grinning. I wonder how gay do I seem while sober as well and I hope he doesn't think that I'm one of those guys which go gay after a few beers, but neither is that a topic of conversation.

There's far too many tears on paper from loneliness, which he once filled, because he was there once.

I am.” I catch Brian's attention as he just plays on with my far longer hair than he has. “I'm interested in men.”

There's far too many lies that I'm over.

He's far too back into smiling viciously, as if I am prey.

I'm bisexual, actually. Had experience with both. Practising.”

There are so many old lovers I'll never draw again. So many realities I'll never cross again. They don't even have to be a creative outlet anymore, but they are the only thing that feeds. There's so many lovers.

If I'm the first friend he's had, how come he ended up tagging along to the squat? I ask that, to which he shrugs.

I heard there was an outsiders party, figured that I would want to join. After all, where else would I go?” He stated and we both start walking away from the university, still smoking and slowly mixing with the London's exhale of people. It's still far too early in the morning to be lunch and somehow the other days have it further on, but today was short, so we don't even reach lunch and there's nothing much to do when you're broke besides finding your own means of entertainment and I still didn't know where Brian laid in terms of that.

I was panicking as if I had my parents over and I had to hide all the condoms, as if they would say that I was explicitly having gay sex. I didn't know what would be so new about Brian compared to my previous lover. I didn't know what would differ, but I felt scared just because he seemed so radiant and I was terrified like a bunny in the headlights. I didn't speak of it of course, instead we just walked silently, Brian raising his eyebrows at me, probably sensing my fear.

Do you have any plans for today, then, Jamie?” He asks me as I just shrug, throwing out my cigarette in a nearby bin as we wait for the traffic light to go green and I don't even know where do you go after you admit that you're gay. I look at the traffic light, the red one, as if it were some sign that I wasn't ready yet because I had no idea how and where to go from now, but just like life it goes green and Brian keeps his grin.

I want something wild again. It's as if I had never loved anyone else.


It's been a good while, I haven't really been feeling very Brian/Jamie even if they're factually my ultimate OTP for every damn reason on this planet. I've been feeling awfully depressed and it kind of hit me really badly, so Callie being the loveliest person ever offered to do some roleplay with me and I'm quite strict about them, because I write paragraphs and paragraphs and I expect the same from my partner. And I don't roleplay that often these days, but I took the offer and it kind of stimulated me to keep writing during this depressive period even if our roleplay is between us and not going anywhere. But it really put me in the mood for some Brian/Jamie and I don't know how, but that inspired me to do totalitarian woollen hounds which doesn't have Brian at all, but anyway. 

I wrote this in one go, now I kind of feel starved for writing, so I've been writing loads everyday and going back to my teenage roots when I would stay awake but I'd write around 3 am, while by 3 am I am sound asleep usually or so, while now it's just in the deep evening close to midnight. 

I ended up writing the present rather easily actually, I've also been bitten by the Placebo bug so I went by with Without You I'm Nothing on repeat and that helped me along with watching old Placebo videos. The past was much harder to write since it's storytelling and guessing what had went on or doing headcanons really. 

Also going back to PDD was weird, because I had written it being mad at my ex, while now I don't really feel anything because it had been so long, maybe just lonely because I currently only have one partner with just weirdness around. 

The paragraph was supposed to be in the next chapter of totalitarian woollen hounds but I transferred it here because it seemed more fitting and that opened the gateway for me to start writing it again. I just needed to get myself angsty and that had been it. 

I pondered a lot on alcohol and inspiration because I seemed to writing better and more when I had one unit of booze and that made me ponder, so I kind of stuck that in the first paragraph. 

I randomly realized that I didn't mention Jamie's appearence until now, so here's to Jamie in dreads as he was in Blyth Power. Good stuff. 

I really missed this story and kind of consider it one of the best I've written, so I really love it.

I hope you enjoyed it and if you did, tell me about it, you'll make my day



Friday, 19 August 2016

totalitarian woollen hounds 2

I cough when I'm anxious, it just builds up and starts and sometimes ends up in vomit and usually I would turn on the faucet by then, it it hadn't stopped and then just sit on the floor of the bathroom, recollecting everything, not because I want to puke again, but just to calm down so that the same doesn't happen once I leave the bathroom. I have too many inner demons and possibly in a nicer world, I would tell people about them, but when it's survival and talking, I don't.

I excuse myself from other activities, because I know that tomorrow we will all go to the same supermarket and it'll be better because whoever I tag along with, they won't be lost again and asking for directions on the map, but rather go knowingly. I managed to score a window even if the room is as tiny to just fit enough the mattress and my backpack is on the end of it, everything still tightly packed and rolled to make space for the rest. I don't even feel hungry or excited, just nervous and I know that it goes from day to day and perhaps tomorrow I will be graced with something less terrifying of a mood.

I decide to lean outside the window, as I open it and stare at the passerby people, which seem to be used on what's going on in this side of Berlin. It feels awfully odd now that we're here for a brief while and in a few days we will play, making it a bit more usual and less dystopian where we just are doing what we're supposed to be doing. Plus, after the gig a little money never hurt anyone. I don't even know what to spend it on, standing on top of the mattress, wondering how little I look compared to the building and actually feeling my small frame for once.

I end up lighting a cigarette, which I had bought back in England, not shifted to German cigarettes just yet and exhaling the smoke outside, pondering a lot in how the world moves yet never changes, how everything seems to be stuck in this capitalistic twirl and only in the corners you'd see something else emerge from communism to anarchy, but even then I could only dream of a revolution on the days when I was depressed, when I was manic I would believe in everything and just lay down with insomnia shooting up my veins, telling me that all is possible if I fucking stand up and wake everyone else up.

Instead I just feel lonely today all of a sudden, but I feel like I've got enough if I just continue smoking and get food off someone for today, since I excused myself and gave some money to get me something and that should be it. I happen to be rubbish at cooking, but once I try it becomes a bit edible and that's probably enough. But when you grow up, you're simply left with the fact that you've got to survive somehow. When I just moved out, I wished there was some trust fund I had, which I could rely on, but there was nothing and I just left, hoping for a better world in London and then I just happened to run into the rest of Blyth Power, hearing about Joseph, since he was in The Mob, that caught my eye and I just went ahead with it. It seemed like a sudden change compared to politics and the air in my family's household.

What struck out to me was how people still kept in touch with their relatives and some would join up, saying that indeed there was nothing wrong with what we were doing and that this country was still in shambles and I would get confused and envious how could one even be close to parents. All I did was have fights from everything to my mom buying me leather shoes to how come I didn't have anyone to cling onto like a girlfriends with my dad and as time passed we would just see how distant we were. And that were it, I just left, allowing them not to think too much of me. But maybe it was selfish and young of me to think that they wouldn't think of me as much as they would of Sarah, because of course they would.

I leaned further out of the window, throwing the cigarette ash below and watching Alex, the guy I had met earlier walk out with hands in his pockets and a backpack, I saw him wait and stand there for a while, before teaming up with what I presumed was Wob and someone else, who I couldn't recognize from a distance, but Wob's hat gave it away and I recognized Alex because he stood there for such a good while. I pondered on him, how he had decided to come over, but I didn't think of it much, just allowing myself to go back on the mattress and stare at the cracks of the walls before digging out On The Road, decided that it would be a good choice of a novel, when it came to travelling even if it was boring me and Keroauc had written much better things.

I'd get so tired that I'd end up rereading the pages, even if it were still light outside, as summer would try to stroke our faces with every inch of sun. Even if we were here for a few days, I shouldn't be locking myself up, but I just felt far too jet lagged even if it were just an hour it felt so deviant and being elsewhere felt deviant as fuck. Eventually on my second smoke break, I saw Alex and Wob head back, leaving the third person alone, which made me ponder if they had sold them for black market organs or something. I nearly threw the cigarette on their lovely hats and hair, but it landed way far behind them, as Alex looked up and waved at me, jabbing Wob in the side, so both eventually did the same friendly gesture. I tried to recall if it were Wob who I gave the money to, but I could return the favor tomorrow if I were to take his food.

I decided that after all, I shouldn't be the one who hides in his room all day like a hermit and walked outside, waiting for them in the corridor, sitting cross legged and apologizing to anyone who spoke German to me and I couldn't say anything other than sorry, I'm English. It didn't take them long to reach the top floor, where apparently we all resided. Or maybe Alex lived on a different floor, but either way it was surely the same building, I guessed since he decided to check up on me earlier.

Eventually they both came up the stairs, which were heavily drawn on with all sorts of graffiti signs and drawings, which I was sure were here much before we even joined up. It was a heavy contrast to the rooms which were rather bare with the necessities and I recalled hearing that everyone would make sure that every adult had their own room, even if we shared everything else. And from what I understood we would share duties as well, yet to be assigned. Wob was terribly excited about learning how to make mooshine as well, which was something mentioned as we were all unpacking by Joseph.

“There's still some time to explore Berlin, if you'd like.” Alex said, breaking my daze as I waited for them to address me and we all headed towards the kitchen, as I took one of the grocery bags, thinking why did we need so much for just a few days. All I did was say a shy hello and he picked up on it, as I glanced outside the window, which wasn't even getting the memo that it's probably about time to at least get a bit darker.

I noticed Wob give a quick grin to Alex and I pondered what would there be any secrets between them already, but I didn't bother much, just asking Alex where to put the items and where was the band's shelves as he just told to get whatever. I obeyed, by just sorting the food and fruit back in the old fridge and Wob started rumming through, knowing damn well that I'd rather have a hand with cooking.

“I can cook, if you'd like.” Alex offered, before Wob got a good look at the same items he was just getting at the store and there was a brief silence of consideration.

“That's kind of you, that would be great. I'm not the best cook to be honest.” Neither of us are, I wanted to add as Wob said it, but kept my mouth shut, as if scared that Alex would somehow bite me. Then Wob looked at me, as I decided to sit by the small table with two mismatched old chairs and instead of joining me he stood there, speaking up. “I'll join you later, fellas.”
I had to stare at Wob's back as he was walking away, thinking why would he even leave me with Alex-

I remember Wob's shady grin, once my cards showed a bloke. And I glance at Alex, who makes his way through all the shelves, pondering silently on what to cook for a few people, since the rest had their own idea of what to cook apparently, it was just us three, me, Alex and Wob. Of course. I rest my head against my arm, waiting for Alex to choose a dish so I could ask him if he needs help cutting, since that's at least somehow I can't fuck up.


Such a comeback. The first chapter was written back in 2014 and I haven't touched it ever since, maybe there was an old file with something in my old computer, but I highly doubt it, so if there was I just started this chapter from a clean sheet. This story was something I was terrified to touch and probably is the thing I am super anxious about the accuracy of because I can't fucking write it accurate with literal scraps of information and this story is frankly my imagination going wild, because I just find it fascinating and I wanted to attempt at it.

Quick shout out to Placebo's Meds which somehow were the soundtrack to this chapter, which frankly doesn't make any sense, but they helped me keep a miserable mood consistantly and for Radiohead's Ful Stop which in my very unpopular opinion is the only song of A Moon Shaped Pool which caught my eye. Ful stop had given me the ending of Blue/Jacket and now the motivation to start this chapter, so round of applause for these two. I even went outside listening to Meds yesterday to keep my motivation consistant and once I was back I just sat in front of my computer, even if it was hard to write, the motivation was there. Since I'm recovering from a really bad depressive episode, all is hard and all help is appreciated.

 Either way, I was terrified of this story and still fucking am! It's hard to write because it's something I had never experienced, the closest I've had is sharing rooms with other people, but it wasn't an East Berlin squat and I'll never experience that for obvious historical reasons. Also shout out to great interviews which are available online about it, so thank you. Obviously thank you to Jamie for talking about it and inspiring this story.

When I can't write I just start describing what I feel or something which has happened to me, to make it easier to dig in and I keep those chunks going by the Kerouac rule of not erasing anything. I get anxious so easily so I start coughing, so that's where that paragraph comes from.

My headcanon was that until then Jamie well, was a late bloomer and I kind of had a relationship when I was 12, so I kind of went to dig in myself that deep to see how it felt when I didn't have any experience and stuff. So yeah.

Bipolar... pride? Something like it. Mania sucks though.

I kind of really went story telling here and squeezing everything out of my mind, so I pretty much told everything. I actually ended up writing the chunk where Jamie realizes what Wob is doing so that I don't forget to include that later, so it was a cheap trick really.

If you liked it, just send something my way, because I'm an anxiety ball and that would be lovely.

Thank you for all your support



Tuesday, 16 August 2016

Untitled 5Silence Seems To Feed Us 15

She doesn't talk to me and anxiety takes the worst, with some anger which I nearly end up self harming again one day and end it with actually scratching all the way to my elbow, wearing a long sleeve in summer, but Alison doesn't bother to answer to anything I say, drawing more and more.

I feel like I have no future as the days pass and I keep picking on the newly formed rough skin over the marks of my nails. I do discover that it's easier to play guitar with longer nails and I keep them such, Alison telling me to trim them becoming the first phrase she's said to me in days.

I invite her to go drinking with me, just because I had saved up a few months ago and kept it for urgent circumstances, this happens to be one. I look at her and I ponder, why do we all try to make our lives fictionalized? Why do we want them in a specific mould which will never fit love or anything like it? Because I don't even know what to talk to her about, she's here and we're not talking.

I don't want to speak of my past, but I know that we've got plenty ahead. I don't want us to end with silence either, I've had someone slip through my fingers once and I've had a mess of years with Brian. I know she's pissed that I haven't spoken about him, but there is nothing I even want to tell and I just imagine all parallel universes where I don't even have to speak of it. I can only imagine how much I can avoid everything, but nothing really comes to reality.

“What is it?” I don't hold and ask her. She looks up and stares at me.

“I didn't know you were gay.” And she says it in a sad voice, like a verdict. I just stare at her. “Why did you sleep with me then?”

I never wanted anyone to question my sexuality or my doings. I light a cigarette, after raiding my pockets and hand her one as well, because after me she learned how to smoke, in a way to mimick someone you love.

“I didn't know I wasn't.”


I picked this up, just because I felt like it and it's one of my stories from the old days and it's so slow paced and will actually last until fucking forever most likely, since it's supposed to go around all their career, well, that was the plan.

I've been in a really bad place mentally due to the fact that I was going to attend a festival which had Kills and Alison cancelled, while the trains got cancelled for the other day when TLSP were playing, so that sent me into an awful downwards spiral, which I'm sort of failing to get out of because so much has been going on and I didn't have any time to rest and I was really looking forward to the festival and then it just didn't happen. 

So it would have also been hard for me to write something long and due to that I haven't been feeling like milex, so I kind of shifted onto my usual Jamie Hince addiction. 

I went to dark places and kind of heightened them in the story, because it seemed to match my mood. 

I hope you enjoyed it and hopefully it won't take so long for a new update for this story



Sunday, 7 August 2016

We've all been broken. There is something in the polaroids we take of the ones we love. 9

 She crosses my mind far too often and I try to think properly if I've ever even had a crush on a girl, I've had them flung onto me but I would just push them away rather confused, trying to understand how would something feel natural when it just didn't seem like that to me. I just rub my eyes, far too many thoughts crawling into me and she seems somehow different, even if she's still a woman. The whole difference is my attraction to her and my clunky thinking. I can't think properly, my whole body is shaking and my mind is neurotic. I wouldn't even think that I would have find anyone to even cross my mind briefly, let alone someone who had tussled my insides.

Then the thought comes from pure boredom, because when you're bored-

I read once that when you can't write you should wank. I've done that in the past, but now my mind is too cluttered to even pick up the guitar and I hide my face in my hands, not even sure what is stirring inside me. I think of her talking to me lazily, her thick French accent and her lips, even her just breathing

I'm surprised at myself

I should've walked over her, so that she would lay between my legs

Maybe light a cigarette, allowing the scent to drench the room and she would watch me. I can see her drunk smile, her curious gaze

My mind shifts, no longer remembering how would I pull her towards me, hug her, kiss her neck, trace her back

I snap out of it, thinking that she would ask me to kiss her, literally, with a boner, sitting on the window sill. I press my back harder against the window, wishing it were open. Wishing that I could somehow have the courage to end it all. I always wondered how did people have the guts to do it. How little doubt did they have left. And in the darkest of times I admired them

I fell in love with a woman, if it were that easy to fall in love with, with every one night stand you have, with everyone who you cross the streets with.

“Fuck it.” I say under my breath, stretching my imagination as far as I can with Valentine back on the floor, her blouse undone, pants gone and taking off her underwear, spreading her legs to reveal herself to me.

Just the mere thought of her naked drives me wild-

I cross my legs, aching to touch myself, as my thinking goes on. I don't hold and unzip my pants, closing my eyes, biting my lower lip.

What would I want her to do? What would I do to her?

Everything seems new, as I imagine myself kissing her lower and lower, licking a trail until I reach her clit and suck on it. She tugs on my hair, pulling it, arching her back, as I slide fingers inside her.

In reality I should be rubbish at it, but I push my thinking away- thinking how good does it feel to stroke my cock to her-

I think of her gasping

I think of her moaning

I think of her clutching the rug under her

I want to give her pleasure, I want to slide in inside her

I want to

I want her.

I would fuck her hard, causing her to gasp, clutch the rug harder, moan


Grab me


I think of her coming

I gasp, bending forwards and coming all over my hand, even some on the fucking floor.

“Shit.” I say, still catching my breath and regret now picking me up, just like any other time when you have a wank to someone you really shouldn't. I don't even know how she feels about it, so why did I even bother? I check my phone to see literally nothing, feeling somewhere deep down something sad and bitter. I just let my hand hang loose, clutching it and feeling all the goo stick to my skin as it slowly starts drying up.

I breathe heavily, but I still bang her out a text, asking how is she doing. I click send and instantly feel regret, maybe I sent the text with the hope that somehow at least one of the two regrets will cancel the other. I don't even know how to act around her, what to ask and what to do now since I've officially done something. I feel like I should even call her, just to hear her voice and either stop my torture or make it much worse.

I feel like there's actually only two solutions to this and both seem to be torturous and embarrassing, but thankfully I don't call and I just want to see her again. I know that going to another of Arielle's party isn't a solution because it simply won't be in a while. But I could see it, I could see myself not caring about being Miles' pretend boyfriend and just tagging along with Valentine.

I think of being attracted to her so early, but then she had been trailing after me for a while and she had been suggested to me for a good while as well. I try not to think much of Miles and decide that perhaps it is better for me to wash my hand after all and the floor, at least scrub at it for a bit. And that's what I do, trying not to think much and neither do I jump on the phone, once I hear it give out a noise. I hold maybe for a minute at most, feeling guilty that I might just jump on it right away.

But it does feel to me like I do attack it far too fast, as I open the text and she tells me that she is doing well, no longer feeling the effects of excessive drinking we had done earlier, asking me how I am.

I just feel terrible over what I've done even if it's just between me and my thinking, that unless I tell anyone it's just like the thought never being a sin. Even if this is an action. I end up telling her that I feel well and I decide to stash the fact that I haven't been doing anything or even leaving the apartment, because I've decided to let the thoughts culminate inside me and give me such a result.

I don't know what to do at all, as I still keep the text open and I wonder what is the point of not inviting her over actually. Days are very long and they hold home to so many different things and in a day you could really die. I don't even know how to raise the subject as if I were twelve again and wondering how to sneak into another guy's room, but in this case it should be much easier, but I just feel in a terribly foreign territory. Which I somehow wandered upon with sticky hands apparently.

It all feels so deviant and already feels odd, it feels like everything I do is being in control somehow, it feels much less 50-50 but then it could be because it's my mind playing tricks with me.

I open the window and light a cigarette, telling myself that it would be the last time I would ever do this again. I hold the phone, pondering what to ask as there is nothing that I would reveal to her. There is absolutely nothing I would say. I just think of kissing her and all body language we could both share. I do ask her eventually, if she wouldn't mind joining me for another drink, saying that caffeine would probably be preferred and my hands itch to invite her over again, rather than stroll around the city. I wonder how much can she read between the lines. I wonder if I even leave anything to read between the lines and loneliness, with a zest of hope.

I think human attraction is a very odd thing, where we want to elope really badly and only then we can reveal our heart's desires and be vulnerable, but until then we end up hopping around, praying that we will get laid somehow. I get very paranoid over wanking off to a girl, though. It sounds awfully ridiculous and I don't know where my actual stance is on this whole situation. I know that I can't call Miles and frankly my only friend left right now is Valentine.

I get anxious just thinking over everything and I try to even focus to recall her text, so I have to open it again and I try to ponder on previous relationships how had everything started and it's always the same recipe, someone always goes after me and eventually I crack and the fact that I had gotten attracted to her much earlier makes me think far too much why did it take so long with Brian and why has it always been so messy with Miles. I blow smoke outside the window, not even bothering to leave the house for anything and I decide that I could order a pizza over, just to stay inside and let all of my anxiety run free as I would wait for her to join me, no matter how many days it would take. I wonder if it's okay if I live off takeovers until then.

I still didn't text her.

I feel like I'm a hamster in the wheel, not knowing why am I so happy about when I'm not doing anything, but then the hamster exercises, doesn't he?

I grab my phone and just press myself against the window frame, as I ask her whether she would like to meet again tonight. I don't hold it against me, but I do find is nosy and weird, well, I would, but if I were attracted to the person I would be happy that some glimpse of attention was shown towards me. But would that be enough?

I decide on a shower, which takes far too long and I don't even check the phone once it vibrates even if I had taken it with me to the bathroom, because I'm too scared of a refusal and everything. I just keep picturing her pondering what's up and why would I be asking for this. I wonder if this is how long it would take me to get over Brian in every situation imaginable or am I jumping on anyone even a girl, just because I don't want to face heartbreak under any circumstance?

And what if he does show up eventually and I'll be entangled in Valentine, would that end up with me being a cheater as well? Since it seems to be in fashion now. I ponder over Miles and Alex and how would their story end with Alex playing both Arielle and Miles, but that enevr excuses Miles' behavior and certainly doesn't Alex's.

In the end I shower with my head pressed heavily against the tiles, pondering about all the men and woman in my life. I don't even know how to feel about everything, as I just drop the towel over my shoulders and sit down. I decide that it's time to unwrap the text, so I do so, biting my bottom lip, as water just keeps running from me and I should really be more careful with my phone, but I don't regret reading her okay and I wonder if she even suspects anything at all and what could be going through her mind, so the next few minutes are done by arranging the time and since I didn't even touch anything there is nothing to clean up, besides dressing myself up.

But I can't help but wonder if Brian were to show up again, would I choose him over Valentine and over everyone else again? I dress up far too formal in a suit, before I take it off, telling myself that no one erased my sexuality and that thinking about it is for later, but I gingerly don't want to be the guy in a suit taking the girl out. Nothing wrong with doing that, but I feel far too scared of turning into something else, so I just smoke shirtless, tapping my fingers against the window sill and settling on a stripy shirt.


It took me a very very long while to get this chapter done as I started writing/pondering it in Spring I believe and overall I got super anxious about this story, since frankly this is the only Jamie/Valentine fic I've ever seen and I don't think anyone ships this oldie anyway xD so I kind of kept pondering a lot due to anxiety and looking back on my backstory, I was in a love-wise happier place, while now I'm stuck with no crushes, just some confusion with one person and all great with Callie as usual, so there's nothing to brag about or to drag new found love inspiration from, that's why Jamie ponders on the past so much at the end of it because I literally had only the past to rely upon. 

I wrote most of it recently, so yeah. 

Also this story is a very big pondering on sexuality and how it works. I look at my past where I've had women and countless men crushes and so on, but I went through oh so many labels, so I still think aloud even if Callie tells me that even Elton John had a wife. So that's most likely the case because I don't feel attracted to women at all now and I find it very hard to relate even, since I'm not attracted or am one. So this story is a big challenging at times, but I really love Valentine, God knows why, so that's why it's easier than it should've been and I really enjoy stories where people muse on their sexuality and so on, that's why I love this universe because we've got Alex and Jamie who are polar opposites here and at the same time in the same situation. 

Once I admit attraction to someone that's it, I'm fully smitten, so I gave that to Jamie here. 

I also haven't written a non-gay sex scene in ages. I really can't recall from the top of my head and it was well... fun and weird to write since the dynamics are different, but maybe I'm just saying this from sitting on my gay tower. 

I remember many years ago when me and Callie weren't out I bought a book about a lesbian who fell in love with some straight fella. The book was utter shit, but the thought of it stuck to me because me and Callie were still looking for labels both of gender and sexuality for one another, so yeah that was ages ago, that's how long ago it was. So the inspiration for Jamie's story is from looking for one's label. 

I hope you enjoyed it and if you did, please tell me so I don't swim in a sea of doubts xD