but I didn't like the way it came out

a message from all the good doctor’s survivors. this is not a love letter.

[we came as romans] i knew you were trouble — a new notch in your belt is all i’ll ever be || [evanescence] made of stone (renholder remix) — don’t wanna play your game anymore || [the all american rejects] gives you hell — you can take back your memories / they’re no good to me || [my chemical romance]  helena (so long and good night) — like a match you start to incinerate the lives of everyone you love || [falling in reverse] caught like a fly — when you die, i won’t be at your wake / no eulogy from me, just a smile on my face || [twenty one pilots] jar of hearts — don’t come back for me / don’t come back at all || [darwin deez] bad day — every day ought to be a bad day for you || [mother mother] bit by bit — i’m gonna get away from all those mouths || [yellowcard] awakening — maybe i will see a different destiny / like knowing you at all was only a bad dream || [go radio] go to hell (piano version) — now i open up and scream to the whole world that i finally left / so if you hear me out of breath i’m singing / go to hell 

listen here.


The inspiration for this sort of came from my mother.  She knows I write CtM fanfiction and refers to Patrick as the ‘drippy doctor’.  The other day she asked if I was still writing about ‘wet Patrick’.  I am 100% sure that her idea of ‘wet Patrick’ and mine are very, very different.  My mind went into overdrive and this is what happened next!

Warning - this is very steamy!

A shout-out to poplarpatience and her excellent story posted earlier today “Braving the Storm”.  If you haven’t read it, I would recommend it.

I don’t know if this a case of great minds think alike or how two writers can write very different stories with similar subject matter.

Let me know what you think of this little piece of steam!

random story of the day: I was at work and I needed to piss but we have no bathroom in the building so I have to go into the college (I work at a bookstore) to use the bathroom and then came back to go to work. so when I reach the door I see a customer about to walk in too so I hold the door for him. he gives me this look and is like in a snarky way “I should be holding the door for you” and I’m here like *fake laughs* but inside I’m like boy fuck your gender roles and get out the doors way so I can get back to work.

I came out to my parents. They laughed at me and accused me of spending too much time on soical media. Then told me I didn’t know what I liked. I’m so fucking angry, because I felt my baby sister kick and if she turns out to be bi or lesbo or pan or demi poloy or whatever! If they dare treat hear the same way they treated me I will slit their throats and claim her mine.

Unending Masquerade



                        With sun overhead, a day just like any other day, the streets giving way to a woman with a history most would lose themselves in. To say, she had come out of it unscathed would be a lie, though with much of it overcome, a sense of strength and inner peace resided with her, of which she would not have gained lest she just simply turned her head when that book nerd came to her back door, pleading for help.

                        The events from then until now all seemed to blend together as though finger painting were caught in the rain, different shades dancing with one another, consuming one another, destroying one another. With thoughts busying her mind, walking into a crowd head on, her shoulder collided with another, spinning her around in the same motion as an apology slipped from her lips, only to be cut short by a simple gasp.

                        Dark hues set upon onyx roots, melding with ivory, immediately becoming aware of every single thing around her. From the amount of time she had stared, right down to the fabric against her skin as her hands rested within hoody pockets. Eyes widened as images of the past, their past, flicked within the confines of her memory. Once again, she heard his laughter, that infectious tone that always seemed to have a hint of nervousness within it.

                        A time long past, though still very much live within the young rabbit; the hoody that shielded her coming from none other than the vessel that stood before her, no longer housing that same soul that brought new life to her. Seconds passed, before lids were allowed to blink, throat allowed to clear, and a faint flush tainted her porcelain skin. With head snapping to the side, jaw tightening, she could once again feel that heart within her crumbling to dust. Before her mind could even understand reason, legs pushed from the stance she had found herself in, pushing passed that ghost of her past, desiring only to flee from that face…that beautiful face.