#ally has had like four lines and already they're knocking me out

[applelimeade]

not sure if anyone has posted the big cards of them yet, but i super love their characters this season

[the-whispers-of-death]

Team-Up?

A/N: It's just this post before the reunion!! Whooo!! After this, the next time we see Stone, Ladder, and The Lions are when they are al together. This is just a set-up to the reunion, the reason why they're reuniting. This isn't going to be too long, I don't think.

*****************************************************************

Stone sat at his desk, the black cat known as Monster on his lap as he wrote a letter to Kali.

Dear Mufasa,

I miss you profoundly. My dream last night was of you right beside him, your hand holding mine. It was like I could feel your breath brushing against my cheek, feel your body so close to mine.

I'm doing well, save for the fact that I miss you. Ladder and I have gotten into a routine with the 141 and you'd be so proud to learn that I smiled while reading your most recent letter. Everyone was so shocked to see me smiling beneath my muzzle mask, and I was too.

I didn't even know I knew how to smile!

Though I suppose that's in part thanks to you. You've given me reason to smile. You were the first to ever look at me and find me worth befriending. You showed me kindness and care for the first time.

Speaking of you, Ashok, I have something to confess. Something that's been on my mind lately.

I didn't really realize it over the years, but now that I have healed enough to finally understand my emotions, I've realized something. I've realized my exact feelings for you.

Ashok, what I'm saying is, I lo—

Stone's writing was interrupted by Ladder opening the door to the barracks. Monster was startled as well from the abrupt interruption, meowing really loudly and jumping onto the desk, which knocked Stone's right hand and made him draw a huge line over the words he had just written.

"Shit, sorry, Stone," Ladder said, a sheepish smile on her face. She gave Monster an apologetic smile as well before continuing. "I know I'm not supposed to interrupt you during "writing a letter to Kali" time, but Laswell is calling everyone into a meeting. We're meeting in Conference Room 18."

Stone grunted in response, nodding so that she knew that he was coming. He heard her leave the barracks and he turned to Monster.

"It's okay, I'm not upset that you had a scared reaction," he murmured, petting the cat in case she thought he was upset. He leaned down, kissing her on her furry head. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

With those words, he got up and left the barracks. He walked towards the conference room, barely registering the amount of people who were opening staring at him. It was then that he remembered he wasn't wearing his muzzle-like mask, but the squad was already waiting for him, so he brushed it off.

Stone got inside the conference room, closing the door behind him. Since he was the last one to arrive, the only seat open beside Laswell's who was standing up was next to Ghost, he sat in the seat next to Ghost.

Laswell nodded in acknowledgement to Stone joining them and then she looked to the fullscreen TV in front of her. She clicked a button on her remote and the image of Commander Phillip Graves appeared on screen, making Ghost, Soap, Gaz, and Price all groan.

Price was particularly peeved, crossing his arms. "Tell me we aren't teaming up with Graves, again," he said, his annoyance clear in his gruff voice.

Soap, always the most expressive out of the 141, made an expression of disgust. "He betrayed us, we seriously can't be working with Graves again!" he grumbled.

"You're not teaming up with Graves again," Laswell replied, making the four tense men relax. She then waited a second before continuing. "However, you are teaming up with a squad of Shadows."

"What?" Ghost asked incredulously. "A squad of Shadows? Why?"

Laswell quelled any further protests. "I know it's not ideal, but this was a request from the Marine Corps. A way to help them out with a terrorist organization who has been giving them a headache and the SAS agreed since we are allies," she explained, her voice firm enough to make it clear that there was no point in complaining. "Now, there is a reason you all are going to be helped by this specific squad of Shadows. It's because they've had some run-ins with this terrorist organization and have more knowledge about how they work than we do. They'd be invaluable assets."

Gaz frowned, asking, "What terrorist organization are we going to take down?"

"They're called "Minerva" and they've managed to evade the Corps for a year now," Laswell answered. "That's all the information I can give you at this time, I know it's not a lot, but once the squad of Shadows comes, you'll know more then. You're all dismissed."

Gaz, Ghost, and Soap were the first ones to get up, Ghost leaving first with the other two leaving behind them. Price got up and walked over to Laswell, the two speaking in hushed tones.

Stone got up and so did Ladder, both of them leaving together.

"A squad of Shadows, I don't know Shadow Company well," Ladder said, her eyebrows furrowed. She usually hated not knowing much about an ally. "Didn't you say Kali went into that PMC?"

Stone nodded, weaving in between fellow soldiers. "He is a Shadow, yes. Perhaps I can ask him to inquire about the squad who will be helping us," he replied. "Ashok did say that there were really good men and women there, so hopefully they won't be too bad to put up with."

Ladder's ears perked up at the sound of Kali's real name. "Ashok, huh?" She was smirking up at Stone, laughing underneath her breath. "Does he call you by your first name in your love letters?"

"Shut up." Stone surprisingly got flustered at the question, almost bumping into someone. He growled lowly when they gave him a dark look, the growl making them scurry away. He focused back on Ladder. "They're not love letters. But I was thinking of telling him, about my feelings. Unfortunately, Monster got scared when you opened the door to the barracks earlier and her jumping on the desk made me scribble all over the letter I was writing."

"Aw, look at you. The Stone I knew five years ago would've never even admitted he liked Kali as a friend, much less as more than a friend," Ladder teased, but pride shone in her brown eyes. She playfully bumped her shoulder into Stone's arm, since she was too short for her shoulder to reach his. "I'm proud of you, Stone, seriously."

Stone bit back a smile, but his lips still twitched in happiness. "Don't get mushy on me," he playfully grumbled.

They parted ways, heading to their assigned barracks. Stone walked in, heading towards his bunk where Monster was waiting for him. He sat down and sighed, petting her.

"Tell me, Monster, is it weird that I'm looking forward to meeting new people?" he asked, knowing she wouldn't judge him too much for asking. He relaxed as she leaned into his petting. "Yeah, you're right. It's just a sign that my therapy's working."

His eyes went to the unfinished, ruined letter on his desk. The thought of Kali made his heart ache, so he reached beneath his pillow, fishing out one of the many letters Kali sent him that were stashed there.

"Let's reread one of these together, hm?"

*****************************************************************

A/N: For anyone that might be confused, Stone doesn't know the organization which "killed" Sarabi, Simba, and Nala because that was confidential information Kali and the rest of the superior officers involved in that mission couldn't indulge. So yeah, he hasn't made the connection.

I was debating not even mentioning Minerva here, but then it hit me that Stone probably wasn't told what organization "killed" four of the five Lions (RIP Siddhartha Patel for being the only Lion who actually died in that mission) and so I mentioned Minerva by name.

Anyways, the reunion is soon! Yay!!

Reblogs are welcomed & appreciated! Asks are open, feel free to pop in and request something! (Check the rules in "Rules for Requesting NSFW" before requesting.)

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Forty-Four

Table of Content or Part Forty-Three

Read HERE on wattpad

Words: 3.2k

Warning(s): Explicit language, Drug abuse

Tag List: @unknownoblivion @sinningsixx @edwardtriggerhandzz @lemmyjelly @haileynicoleseavey17 @cierrasixx19 @oskea93 @mgkobsessed @vamprlestat @sharon6713 @itsametaphorbriansblog @miriampraez @allie-mcginn @rebeccaphillips14 @nicholeh7 @fandomshit6000 @lilmou5ie @tamedhearts @divaanya @kingbouji3 @evrsncnewyork @6ixx6ixx @ratedrkohardychick91 @floregrohlssard @oldschoolimagineblog @thanks2pete @abaldboi @swoopygorl @justjodeye @liith-ium @caos18blog @ytwahsog @shamlessobsessions @scarecrowmax @toadspleen @random-internet-user-4471 @solohqrry @loveofmyloif @sparxx27 @kaitieskidmore1 @xpoisonousrosesx @cruecifymesixx @ijustwanttokiss70srogertaylor @emmaelizabeth2014 @meetthesixxter @sixxsixxsexx @sublimeprincesswasteland @arianareirg @girlnight-terror @mcnibberachi

@fancywasmyname1 @teller258316 @ggorehorror

May 10, 1986, is hands down one of the most embarrassing days of my life...and Nikki's...and Tommy's, Heather's, Vince's, Mick's, Tansy's, etc.

I pluck the letter from our accountant off the door, not shocked with its content, but it still sends a streak of anger, sadness, and disappointment through me.

"What's that?" Izzy asks me, and I raise my brows and push it into his chest.

"A snapshot of your future if you don't slow down." I tell him with a sigh, taking my sunglasses off and putting my keys on the keyring as the guys file in behind me. "Nikki!" I call. "We gotta head to the hotel!"

I turn to face Slash, Izzy, Steven, Axl and Duff, digging in my jacket pocket to pluck five keys out.

"There's snacks in the pantry, beer in the fridge, and food in the freezer. Do not go in our bedroom, I will know, and I will kill you. Do whatever you want, but if you break it you buy it and I don't want random girls in here. If anything goes missing..." I start, turning to face them. "...I will make sure your career crashes and burns before you even get it off the ground." I promise, not an ounce of bullshit in my voice, seeing that my words get my point across to everyone except...

"You're bluffing." Axl scoffs out and I raise a brow.

"All I have to do is tell Nikki I have sex with Duff in my dreams." Is what I want to say, but I just brush it off and ignore him as Nikki stumbles in, pulling his jacket on, dragging his suit in the protective covering behind him by its hanger.

"Dude, you alright?" Steven asks him, a little concerned and Nikki pushes past them to go to outside to my car.

"I thought he was the best man." Izzy says and I exhale, grabbing my overnight bag and my dress for the wedding, from the couch.

"He is." I confirm, heading to the door. "Be good, stay out of trouble, I left the number for the hotel and our room number on the fridge." I inform them, opening the door, giving them one last glance. "Thank you for watching the house. I love you, guys."

"Love you!" Duff, Steven and Slash calls back before I shut the door and step to my car.

I put my stuff  carefully in the trunk, seeing Nikki lazily crumpled his suit up and tossed it in.

I roll my eyes and fix his mess, laying it as flat as I can with my wrapped up dress before shutting the trunk and getting into the driver's seat.

Tommy and Heather had the Biltmore Hotel in Santa Barbara as their wedding venue, and everyone decided it would be easier to just stay the weekend instead of driving back home...Nikki had a grand plan to kick drugs over the weekend to avoid rehab.

But he did the exact opposite.

"...So Sparkie had to just give up on making it because his flight was delayed repeatedly and--Do I look okay?" Tansy asks me, looking down at her light pink dress that hugs just the right amount of her overly thin body.

"You look beautiful." I tell her, going over her tracks with more foundation as Tommy comes in.

"Nikki's fucked up." Tommy tells me, irritated and I look at him with dread filling me.

"What?"

"Nikki is fucked up on smack, Viv. That's what. And he's my fucking best man." He repeats. "My parents are here. Her family is here. They're pretty conservative and my best man is obviously tripping on something." He goes on.

"Shhhit." I hiss, walking to the door and he's hot on my trail as I make my way to the groom's suite, seeing Nikki on a couch, nodding off with his sunglasses on.

I take them off and pat his face until he wakes up.

"What?!" He startles.

"Fuck, Nikki." I let out a breath, seeing his pupils are nearly gone, his eyes a dead giveaway to his problem. "Where is it?" I ask and he looks at me blankly.

"Where's what?"

"I'm not playing this game with you. Where is it?"

His pinpoint accented eyes burn into me.

"If it were in your pussy, you'd know where it was." He sarcastically states.

My hand is picking up his pant leg and reaching into his boot, pulling out a lump of tar wrapped in cling wrap.

He rolls his eyes as I go to the other boot and pull out a plethora of syringes.

"Stand up." I order and he rolls his eyes and stands up. "Arms out, legs spread."

He obeys, a tight smirk on his face when I finish patting down each of his arms, and start on his legs.

My hands reach into each of the pockets in his pants to make sure there's nothing in them before he's grabbing my hand and putting it on his crotch.

"You couldn't keep it up right now if you tried." I tell him and he let's out a chuckle.

I just push at his chest and he falls back onto the couch as I gather his supplies.

"You'll get this back later." I lie to him, turning step past Tommy to put the stuff in my bag.

It was a smart tactic, truthfully. He couldn't shoot up because he didn't have his supply. But someone else there did have a supply I didn't even think about until Nikki was borderline comatose by the time the ceremony was about to begin.

"You what?!" I shout at Tansy as panic settles into her blue eyes.

"He was starting to bug out so I just thought--"

"--No, you didn't think about anything! If you had, you would've actually had time to process the fact that he has obligations to Tommy that, thanks to you supplying him with his bullshit, he might not be able to do!" I bark back and tears swell in her eyes as she looks like she's about to cry.

"Viv, just calm down." Vince interjects and I glare at him before looking at Nikki's nearly knocked out form.

"We gotta get out there in, like, ten minutes, Viv." Tommy reminds me, just as frustrated as me.

I let out a weak breath, giving up, rubbing my forehead before looking at Tansy.

"Do you have any blow?" I ask her, and she looks confused for a moment. "He needs to be alert so we can try to hide the fact he's stoned. Key word: 'try'."

"Y-Yeah?" She tells me.

"Bring it here."

She doesn't argue, going to her purse and pulling out a bindle of blow.

I hand it to Tommy and he cuts a few lines of if up, patting at Nikki's face to wake him up.

"Yo, best man, wake the fuck up, snort some, and let's go. I don't wanna be late and I don't wanna embarrass Heather." He tells him as Nikki groggily comes to.

"I'm up, man, just..." He waves his hand at him, sitting up.

I hold out a straw from Tansy's drink, to Nikki, and he looks up at me.

"One minute you're telling me I'm going to rehab, the next you're encouraging me to snort coke?" He laughs humorlessly. "Jesus Christ, are you manipulative or what?"

"Hey, asshole, hush and get your shit together so you don't ruin the most important day of my fucking life." Tommy loses his patience and sternly tells Nikki and Nikki looks insulted.

"The most important day of your life was the day I let you join my band." Nikki fires back, and Tommy rolls his jaw.

"Viv, you're my best man." Tommy tells me suddenly.

"Tommy, just--"

"Am I gonna be standing up there by myself or...?" He interrupts me and I sigh.

"I'll do it, drummer." Mick says from where he's in the corner, minding his business.

"Thank you, Mick. Good to know someone in my band has my back."

"Look, I'm fine." Nikki insists, ignoring Tommy, rubbing his eyes and discarding the lines of white powder. "And I already got the rings, let's just get this done, man."

Nikki goes to get up, but trips and falls into the glass coffee table beside him.

"Babe--"

"I got it." He insists, cutting me short. "I'm good."

No, he wasn't. When we got outside, the afternoon sun just highlighted his sickly appearance.

A disgusting yellow tint to his skin that seemed to cling to his thin frame, although the bloat that only seemed to worsen in the warm weather, covered up his obvious weight loss.

He was dripping sweat, and not because it was that hot outside, and he even left four different times during the ceremony to go to the bathroom (we all know what he was really doing), and when he was present, he was nodding off non-stop.

By the time the reception hit, I was dreading his best man speech.

I eat another bite of my salmon as Tansy and Heather continue to talk about where she and Tommy are honeymooning, and Tommy looks disappointed as Nikki approaches the table from another trip to the bathroom.

"I'm sorry, Tommy." I mumble and he sighs out.

"Thanks, Viv." He kisses the top of my hand before looking over my head.

Arms wrap around my neck, and I'm startled a little before I look up and see Athena standing over me.

"Hey!" I greet her, standing up to hug her to me.

"Marry a rock guy and you're suddenly too good for me?" She asks, joking about how long it's been since we've seen each other. "Speaking of your rock guy, he didn't look too good up there." She says lowly through her teeth and I raise my brows.

"He's not." I reply quietly, feeling Nikki's hand squeezing at my shoulder and Athena looks at him over my shoulder and smiles.

"Hey." Nikki tells her the best he can as they hug for a second.

"Hey, dude." Athena says to him. "Um, I'll see you guys before I go, alright? There's hot guys everywhere and I'm gonna go see if I can hook a dick--I mean a date--for tonight."

"Be wise with your selection." I warn her.

"I will." She queezes my hand before stepping away and I exhale softly before sitting next to Nikki and as he drinks down his glass of wine Tommy stands up and clanks his spoon against his glass, silencing the five hundred guests.

"Alright, first of all, Heather and I would like to thank all of you for driving out here to celebrate this day with us. We really do appreciate it, and we love you guys more than you know. Right now, we're gonna take a moment to hear some words from the best man and maid of honor, and then really get the party going." He announces and Nikki squeezes his eyes closed for a moment before standing up, holding up his wine.

"To the bride and groom, may all your struggles be in bed." He let's out with a slight slur, obviously expecting people to laugh, but it falls flat.

"May all your ups and down be in bed." Is what he meant to say, but his brain was checked out, and by the looks on Heather's parents' faces, they were already second guessing the marriage after Nikki said that.

I struggle to keep my cringing on the down low as everyone awkwardly glances around and Nikki sits down, looking a little humiliated as he hides behind his hair while keeping his eyes on the table.

The awkwardness subsides as the maid of honor starts a tear jerking, elaborate speech about her relationship with Heather, but I don't pay much attention, too busy worrying over Nikki.

The way his eyes are shifting around the room, tells me he's anxiously trying to think up an escape plan to ditch this place all together.

My hand goes to his thigh, and he looks at me.

Despite being pissed at him for letting Tommy down, I still feel bad for him. I know he didn't plan to let him down, he just can't fucking help himself and I don't understand why he can't walk away from the drugs.

I give him a reassuring smile before kissing his cheek.

He puts his hand on the inside of my knee, scooting me closer to him, and I rest my head against his arm.

Once the girl's speech is done, Nikki's disappearing and the bride and groom dance is next.

I watch Tommy and Heather, their pure, annoying, over the top, but sweet, love.

I think Nikki and I had that at one point. We had to have had it in order to be so sure we wanted to spend the rest of ours lives together, even though I still second guess myself sometimes, and I'm sure he does, too.

I don't even think I was sure about it when we got married.

Tommy and Heather look so sure, though. They say, "I love you." If I said that, Nikki would probably run for the hills.

Someone's grabbing at my hand, pulling me out of my thoughts and I see Vince.

"C'mon, Miss Ballet." He tells me, and I furrow my brows.

"You're not big on dancing, Vince." I point out as we join other people slowly dancing around Heather and Tommy at this point.

"I'm not dancing, I'm spending time with my worst friend." He chuckles, and I take off my heels, holding them by their straps in one hand while my other hand rests in his, and his other hand holds at my waist.

Our one-inch height difference has me smirking arrogantly at him as we move together.

"What?" He asks.

"I'm taller." I pick at him a little.

"You're not ever gonna let that go, are you?"

"Nope." I giggle, shaking my head a little. "Sharise couldn't come?" I ask him and he shrugs.

"Skylar got sick." He explains and I nod as he glances around.

"Where'd he go?"

"Exactly where you're thinking he is." I respond and he stays quiet for a second, holding me a little closer to him.

"Have you two talked more about him...you know...?"

I shake my head.

"He doesn't think he needs rehab, just detox. As for therapy to save our marriage...that's up in the air." I admit, looking as Tommy and Heather laugh lightly amongst themselves as they dance, and Vince rubs his lips together and follows my line of sight.

"When I married Beth, I never thought we'd separate." He tells me and I raise my brows.

"Really?"

"No, I'm just trying to give you something to relate to, to help you not feel alone." He confesses and I laugh a little.

"I'm fine, Vince. I'll be okay."

"You and Nikki hate each other, Vivian. And if you don't yet, you will. Trust me. Beth and I were the same way and we put it off thinking it was gonna get better and it just never did."

"But Nikki and I are gonna work on it and get help." I state.

"Look, I'm not trying to freak you out, I'm just wondering how the hell you're gonna fix things because it's gonna take a lot. And if he isn't sober and on his A-game and giving it his all to mend shit, it's gonna wear you down more and more and it's gonna get uglier."

I know what he's saying is true, and I sniffle back a tear-induced running nose as water lines my eyes.

"Hey," he sees me about to cry, hugging me fully to him now and I wrap my arms around him, tears rolling down my face. "Shh shh shh." He soothes me.

"Vince, I'm scared." I say in a whisper.

"Viv, you guys are gonna be okay. I'm sure you'll find a way take fix things just to spite people saying you two won't last." He assures me, his hand rubbing comfortingly up and down my back. "Look at me." He says and I do, and he wipes at my tears. "It'll be fine, alright?" I nod. "Okay?"

"Okay." I reply, sniffling again.

He kisses my cheek and I hug him again.

"You got this." He promises me.

After our dance is over, Tommy is still in Heatherland and I decide to go find Nikki in the men's room.

"I was about to come find you." He tells me when he sees me come in as he's splashing water on his face in the sink.

"I was waiting for a dance with you but you never came back." I tell him, taking note that he's more aware than earlier.

He doesn't reply, he just starts to pull his bowtie and jacket.

"We can go up to our room and you can change." I suggest calmly.

He ignores me, getting the bowtie off, and sliding from his jacket.

I take them from him so he doesn't leave them, and he starts unbuttoning his shirt.

"You can't strip down and go to the room naked." I argue as he gets his belt loose before getting his pants undone. "Nikki--"

I'm cut off, his lips keeping me quiet out of absolutely nowhere, and as he backs me against the counter of sinks and pushes me up onto it, pushing my dress up my hips. I realize what he's doing. "We can't do this." I break away from him, taking deep breaths as his tongue runs up my neck.

"Why not?" He asks against my skin.

"Because you're not attractive to me right now." I want to say, but don't.

I don't have to.

"I just want you to get better." I say to him and he furrows his brows, giving me the opportunity to realize his pupils are big now, probably due to over correcting his heroin stupor with blow during his bathroom visit.

"So, what, you're just gonna keep your fucking legs closed until I get help?" He asks me as if I'm being ridiculous and I close my eyes and sigh out.

"Nikki, you're sick." I say as calmly and politely as I can, my stomach churning at his appearance. "I'm a shitty wife if I close my eyes and let you fuck me and just pretend you're healthy." I explain.

I think he's going to yell at me, or pitch a fit...but his tears roll down his face and collide with my hands that are still holding him, and he looks angry but tired of fighting.

"I'm trying to fix this. I don't want to go to anybody and have them tell me how to be married and how to live my life. You're not happy and I'm just trying to fix this." He tells me and I swallow back my own tears.

"Sex doesn't fix this, Nikki." I tell him. "I wish it would, I really do, but it just doesn't."

I see an obvious fight within himself as he thinks of what to tell me next.

"Fine." His voice cracks, a mixture of a sigh of relief and a stubborn surrender lacing his tone.

He and I called Bob Timmons and Doc that night.

[hybrid-lion]

Lion Daydreams Journal

2-3-21 / 2-5-21

OR

Succulent witch jokes and DnD cheatcodes

Musing on perpetual journey and points of processing certain themes..

Four days prior exiting Hedgewitch Hollow (more on that later) from my abusor(s), at @ the hospital and other musings

 Curbside outside familiar building, looking something like a cross between between the rite aid/CVS in West Emoryville I saw in 2011 this one time and and outside heron pond plaza from tripjoy advantage in New Hampshire.

 Present was a Sedan with big extra Star Wars wrap all over it- specifically Rebel Alliance logo on hood.

 Don't fall for the nurse; they're always immensely humane and kind and working; not to be your fixation (I've gathered this for a while too, though as the derivative term goes, "What a Catch.."

  Anyway Fallout girl/nursing tech (With the magnificent taste in communication skills and tattooage whom was without a doubt better at putting up with my roundabout chittering than I even am (which states a bountiful amount of patience in her own rights and also that I need to work on alloying others more time to have the proverbial talking stick in dialogues), whom I had chatted with the day prior for a while regarding the matter of the vibrational level on this conscious and graceful hostess; (That's the planet we are graced with being able to provide for in turn), with with the rose and sun moon tatts, was present in this dream sequence, as short lived as the scene was. 

 Clearly taking a journey. Capable technical reasoner boi was there as well who cannot even understand where that's at at all definetly was also present in this one.

Clearly journey symbolism, as I was approaching the vehicle in question. 

2-5-21

 "WHY IS THERE BRINE IN THE ORANGE JUICE"

Walking around downtown burning time between returning from securing a temporary order/petition to court and grabbing dinner, I was between looking at the lines in leaves and patterns in the puddles near an underpass when it occured to me regarding my subjectiviteas this far:

   Almost anybody would be able to tell you that there's more than one way to skin a cat as well as probably one of the worst things you can do is box with an apex creature, specifically one that most dungeon Masters wod probably have on the back burner as a sort of endgame accomplishment that would either make or break the parties resolve to complete that leg of their long arduous campaign; or correctly enough the kind of boss fight that one would face in an old RPG that then unlocks a potential ally to the party whom would essentially have the capacity to either RUIN EVERYTHING, knock something off a really high shelf at the appropriate time, or just absolutely love you to death in the dirt merely depending on the way you decided to associate prior and subsequently accounted for).

   This I would assume so boldly is primarily due to the nature of such back burner endgame beings, as well as with all things considered that it is most likely cognitive of it's own journey as well to some extent and that it has retained all the EXP of both that, along with some of the experiences said party would have had by that point, again considering stuff and things.

--

I digress from the point- but we're getting there.

--

So 'boxing'; i.e. showboating or perhaps just putting up and making the most of the situation pertaining to that proverbial beastie the DMs sent around the way-- 

Noting that at that point to some fair extent isn't quite OP persay, but had maintained a good enough vantage for some time that it had or has more than enough capacity for adapting, recanting it's own skills based in experience as it do/what have you, as well as subsequently recognizing that somewhere along the way said party or perhaps their questgivers or guild leads decided to not entirely tell said prior and then the party at hand- what have you- 

  they would then be either in the same raid/map/party/team as it already, but still decided it would mostly likely do well to or behoove them to, and said prior backburner beastie to just go proverbially or metaphorically corner it; and subsequently snare or root or web or whatever their skillset would do; then dragged it off to have a dialogue with it about or pertaining to..

..something sort of akin to poking it awake with a slow burning brand, 

 But only after years of putting it on display without its consent or knowledge.

   This is probably one of the worst things you can do for either yourself or anybody else, regardless of the lens of which it exists in, without having prior and then post poking explaining it.

  Especially considering the nature of some endgame beasties and the capacity for critical analysis.

  If you had a support tank, that didn't know it was a support tank, and you left it out in the rain for like, ever, do you think a little K, Y Jelly and some WD40z to Freedom would constitute a thoroughly squeezed explanation of this scenario to that support tank?

 Depends on the tank and some stuff and things probably.

~~~

  All things considered…

I take it back the brine is fine but the synaptic firings of my brain giving me a first class ticket to Stockholm's I could do with more of for sure, but I'd rather just hang in the Catskillz and make art about 

===

This lens of comprehension on dealing with what to not allow to occur to a raid party would have been monumentally helpful for me subsequently years ago years ago.

   This would been subsequently helpful for me in decision-making, free will, yes, and choice-based processes of course as humans go.

   And if in when the case arose that I had to tell my younger self, "Hey don't put yourself on display or get worked up, but hang in and also read this book in full before walking out to the tarmac or at least in between flights to and from, don't act the fool for the sake of a fool, unless you need to act to fool forreal forreal. Just leave that shit in the sand, dig a foxhole for it if you have to, or bring it sooner maybe?

 

 

  Don't let other people harsh thine proverbial mellow and as it would only fuel their trashcan fire of excusable accounts as to why they allotted a random roaming low level beastie to accumulate that much of an exp grind crunching on bones and jellies and some mimics that don't even, without alluding thoroughly so that they wouldn't act a fool at the loss or sacrifice of someone else's journey as well as their own. 

 At that point, you should have just pulled the support tank aside and been like-

*Mumbles*  

 listen, "you are our favorite dumb dumb juice supersoaker palindrone cat, just saiyan"...

we just want/wanted to sap and then sac your last floating stackable 💕 for the raid that pulled it along on a chain that long for display and experience just to see how it would go like, IDK it'll work out either way but like we could probably use a dumpster fire and we hear you're full of shit, but also the ship is intact and just needs a happy tree friend sometimes so like, knowing the support tank is going to anyway because of its back story… 

~^•=•^

Uhm.

 *TAKES DEEP BREATH*

~=^•Î||I•^=~. •°•°{"UNACCEPTABLE CONDITIONS" 

*TAKES DEEP BREATH*

~^•=•^~

 "we deserve better and also some stuff you left in my backpack over here oh wait what's that accounted for oh okay here a random distracting smoke grenade quick make your escape.*

 🍊  🍃

---

In retrospect-- this would have been monumentally helpful years ago, as would have keeping the deck of playing cards I received years ago with me, my towel, journal and probably better time management skills and also understanding the concepts of the journey of oneself as both the lessons of our priors on the road and with us as we continue.

  I will continue to explain why this could have to explain this to myself in dreaded prose. 

Preferably after I come to terms with the huntresses and chieftainesses and the shield maidens who keep attempting to bait and no scope my ass when they can't even decide if they want to be a volva a shield maiden again or a valkyrie or a witch of the wild blue yonder or all like 20 at the same time; but are getting fond of kiting me around with salt rounds and rubber bullets and genuine uncondition positive regard despite both of our sanity and interests even though it ain't nobody's goddamn business how baby treat me.

 Anyway if you see a random roving ** monster on the map assume it has your best interest at heart or if it's in your teahouse just do yew fam, most likely it's just stopping in for coffee or orange juice or the finest proverbial trashcan fires to warm up aside this side of the milky way.

 Also try not to forget to set a reminder to wake up at an appropriate time, and don't forget to to carry on and through and keep up with your affirmations and random google searches for sigils you have no understanding of and show love to all your complex houseplants and rock's needs balanced with your own.

 Also don't worry about eating carbs late at night before bed. We can burn them off when we're running through each other's minds. 

More in all that later though in detail.

 

*Switches to sleepytime mode, proceeds to cleans whiskers and thanks you for coming to it's shed talk.* 

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Thirty-Eight

Table of Content or Part Thirty-Seven

Read here on wattpad

A/N: Question — what song do you think of when you think of Nikki and Viv? I'm trying to see something

Word count: 3.3k

Warning(s): Explicit language, Sexual situations, Drug abuse

Tag List: @unknownoblivion @sinningsixx @edwardtriggerhandzz @lemmyjelly @haileynicoleseavey17 @cierrasixx19 @oskea93 @mgkobsessed @vamprlestat @sharon6713 @itsametaphorbriansblog @miriampraez @allie-mcginn @rebeccaphillips14 @nicholeh7 @fandomshit6000 @lilmou5ie @tamedhearts @divaanya @kingbouji3 @evrsncnewyork @6ixx6ixx @ratedrkohardychick91 @floregrohlssard @oldschoolimagineblog @thanks2pete @abaldboi @swoopygorl @justjodeye @liith-ium @caos18blog @ytwahsog @shamlessobsessions @scarecrowmax @toadspleen @random-internet-user-4471 @solohqrry @loveofmyloif @sparxx27 @kaitieskidmore1 @xpoisonousrosesx @ijustwanttokiss70srogertaylor @triplehaitches @emmaelizabeth2014 @meetthesixxter @sixxsixxsexx @sublimeprincesswasteland @arianareirg @girlnight-terror @mcnibberachi

LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED

My bare feet hook underneath his thighs the second I realize he's about to  finish and he gives a crooked smirk up at me, his breathing beginning to shallow.

Nikki holds my hips still, groaning out as his cum coats the inside of me, causing me to let out a hazey moan, my mind cloudy from our rather lengthy round.

Once he's finished, I'm getting off of him and falling beside him, catching my breath as we recover is silence fore several minutes.

"Are you on birth control or something?" He asks me out of nowhere and I tense up, looking at him.

"Why're you asking?"

"I've been thinking about it since Vince and Sharise had Skylar, for some reason. I mean, I haven't used a rubber since we started dating and most of the time I don't pull out, and we've only had one pregnancy scare in the past, what, like, four years?"

"You've managed to keep track of how long we've been together?" I ask him, pretending to be shocked and he gently hits my arm with the back of his hand, and I chuckle, rolling over to face him, my lips pressing to his bicep for a moment.

I think I'm in the clear, dodging his question, but I'm not.

"I'm being serious, Viv, are you on something or...?" He asks and I lick my lips.

"Maybe my antidepressant affects fertility, I don't know." I shrug, lying through my teeth. "Drugs can cause issues on your end, too, so maybe that's another reason."

"Oh." He replies.

I avoid looking at him, sitting up, swinging my legs over the side of the bed before reaching down to grab his shirt by my feet.

You know those lies, that start simple and small, and then snowball more and more over time and explode in flames from hell that melt the snow and turn it into scalding hot water that leaves third-degree burns on the person that's being lied to? Yeah, we both had lots of those, and that was one of mine.

I

take a shower and brush my teeth, excited for my plans tonight, and as I start putting makeup up on, Nikki's getting in the shower.

"Are you and Robin going out tonight?" I ask him.

"Uh, yeah. Sparkie's coming, too." He replies and I roll my eyes.

I know they'll go out to a club and hide in the bathroom, shooting up and snorting blow a  majority of the time, only leaving to get some drinks.

"My doctor was really curious as to why I needed a refill so soon being that he gave me a month supply a week before Sparkie traded it." I comment to remind him Sparkie's a piece of shit.

"Sparkie learned his lesson, baby." He tells me in a half-chuckle and I raise my brows at myself in the mirror and turn the sink on.

"Jesus fuck, Viv!" He screams, being bombarded with ice cold water for a moment.

"Awe, I'm sorry, maybe Sparkie can sympathize with you." I reply smartly.

He's getting out of the shower, covered in suds, glaring at me, and I take off running with him chasing close behind.

"Spoiled brat!" He calls at me, the both of us naked as jaybirds.

"Trader bastard!" I say back, right before he catches me, pulling me against his wet, soapy body, his hands not skipping a moment to start tickling me.

I squeal, the both of us falling to the floor, my feet and legs kicking out of instinct.

"Don't you do it." He threatens. "Remember what happened last time."

"Not my fault you're a pussy." I reply, immediately regretting it when he starts tickling me again, this time, getting on top of me to pin me down.

He doesn't let up until I'm laughing so hard I'm in tears, and he's tired of struggling with me.

We look at each other for a minute, before he grins and kisses me.

"I gotta finish getting ready." He tells me, getting off of me and helping me up.

"Yeah, I do, too."

I decided a nice trip to Malibu would be a great thing for GN'R. I mean, go to Tansy's house there, have her invite over some of her single girl friends to mingle with the guys, stay over night so they don't have to worry about whether or not they'd be able to crash at their stripper friends' apartment and sleep on the floor that night, have a nice breakfast together the next morning, and just give Axl and Izzy time to really get to know Tansy, because they haven't hung out with her very much, while Slash, Duff and Steven see her almost more than I do.

I glance around the living room of Tansy's Malibu beach house, seeing beach bunnies all around with perfectly tanned skin, bombshell hair and perfect smiles, then look at Steven and Slash, who seem to be having a pretty good time.

They both look like they're in heaven, girls on either side of them, obviously fans of their work on the Sunset Strip back in L.A.

Izzy took a girl up to the guest bedroom long ago, while Axl's just nursing a bottle of Jack, with a beautiful brunette chattering his ear off while he's pretending not to care about what Tansy's doing as she talks to one of her girl friends across the room.

I do a mental head count, and notice my 6'4 blonde is nowhere to be seen.

Maybe he found a girl or two of his own and followed in Izzy's footsteps, taking over a spare room?

I brush it off, deciding it's none of my business and step to the kitchen to grab a Pepsi out of the fridge. 

When I pass by the doors that lead to the balcony over looking the ocean, though, I see the outline of someone sitting in the lounge chair. 

Recognizing the slender frame, I grab my soda and head outside, Duff looking over his shoulder to see who I am, before smiling at me innocently, bottle of Vodka by his foot and pack of Marlboros on one knee as a sketch pad and pen are being supported by his other.

"Hi." I say as he scoots over to make room for me. "Mr. Social Butterfly." I add, sarcastically.

"Hey." He replies, moving his Vodka over so I won't knock it down with my foot.

"I figured you be eating that up." I motion to the door, referring to the gorgeous girls inside and he chuckles a little.

"I don't know, I haven't really been feeling chicks lately." He tells me and I furrow my brows a little.

"Well, I'm sure she has some boy friends, too, if you're feeling something different." I inform him, knowing what he meant, but he laughs and shakes his head.

"Not like that, Viv." He tells me and I pull my red hair behind my shoulders to get it out of my face, before taking a sip of my drink. "I've been, uh, working on something new, kinda. The lyrics have been going off left and right in my head, I just thought I'd better get somewhere quiet and write them down before I lose them." He explains, holding up his notepad.

"Oh, I'm sorry." I feel like I've intruded, or messed up his groove, about to leave him alone to finish but he puts his hand on my knee to stop me from standing up.

"No, no, it's fine." He insists, taking his hand off of me, not thinking anything of it, despite me feeling warmth radiate from where he touched me.

I ignore it.

"I've already gotten everything I had in mind, so far." He explains. "Just a verse and chorus."

"What's the name of it?" I ask, and he scratches the back of his neck.

"I don't know if I need to tell you. I'm superstitious about this stuff, Viv." He tells me, even though he's completely full of shit.

He just wants to aggravate me.

"It's just the title, Duff. You let me hear you say 'turn around, bitch, I gotta use for you' and this can't be worse than that." I point out and he chuckles, licking his lips before looking at me.

His hand covers the lyrics, exposing the title line of the page.

"Paradise City" is scribbled in his writing and I smile when he moves his hand and let's me read  the chorus, and verse that he's gotten so far, a giant smile pulling at my lips.

"Who the hell inspired this?" I ask him, raising my brows.

"Nobody particular." He shrugs. "You like it?"

"I already love it." I tell him.

Not to compare two completely different bands who earned their names all on their own, but there are a few song parallels between Guns N' Rose's Appetite for Destruction, and Mötley Crüe's Girls, Girls, Girls albums.

Guns' Welcome to the Jungle was like Mötley's Wild Side. Paradise City was like Girls, Girls, Girls. Mr. Brownstone was like Dancing on Glass. But my favorite parallel has to be Sweet Child O Mine and You're All I Need.

I remember Nikki had given me a tape of You're All I Need after we got into a massive argument because he thought I was spending too much time with Duff. But he had practically accused me of having feelings for Duff, and even acting on them (which was pretty hypocritical being that he'd been screwing Vanity since 1986 at that point.)

A few weeks later, Nikki convinced me to come down to the studio so he could personally give me a copy of a song he had written me, and me--being excited--decided I wanted the guys to hear it, too.

I went to the Franklin Plaza where Steven, Duff, Slash, Izzy and Axl were hanging out, discussing a meeting they'd had with their label.

When I told them Nikki wrote a love song about me (thinking it was his way of trying to patch up our marriage and say to the world "I love this woman") the guys had to hear it, not believing me.

The ballad started beautifully, tears coming to my eyes, but my warmed heart quickly began boiling in my chest by the time the second chorus ended.

"I don't think this is a love song." Izzy stated, while shaking his head a little.

"Yeah, uh...he's talking about killing you." Axl had told me, everyone seemed slightly disturbed.

"Your girlfriends get Sweet Child O Mine and what does the dedicated wife that has done nothing but love this sick bastard get?! A song dedicated to his deep desire to murder me!"

"Dude, hasn't he actually tried to kill you before?" Steven asked.

Which made the song even more ironic, along with the last line of the chorus, "and I loved you but you didn't love me" which in itself was slap in the fucking face.

I didn't hear the full song at that time because Duff had took it out of the player and stomped it under his cowboy boot.

That pretty much set the tone for the months to come.

"You're also incredibly biased." He replies in the same tone and I nudge him with my elbow.

"You don't know how many songs I have actually had to tear out of Nikki's hand and hide them from him because they were so bad I just could not allow them to be recorded." I tell him.

"Oh, please." He brushes me off.

"Have you heard 'Theater of Pain'?" I ask him with raised brows.

"Yeah."

"Home Sweet Home and Smokin' in the Boy's Room were the only really good ones. And Smokin' in the Boy's Room was a cover. The other songs were songs I didn't know were written, or I would have hid them from him, too." I state and he tries not to laugh, but fails, making himself snort, which kickstarts my laughter. 

Once we settle down, he clears his throat, and gets a kind of serious expression on his face.

"I really wish he wasn't on that shit, Viv." He tells me and I don't even have to ask who he's talking about. "I mean, I'm not judging him or whatever because Izzy and Slash are in on that stuff, too, but...I just hate to see he's on it, because it's kinda hard to manage it once you hit a certain point, ya know?" He asks and I nod a little. "I think he's a pretty cool guy...so it sucks to see him act like that."

"It's not that bad, right now." I tell him, completely in denial. "He's still Nikki, he just does stuff he's not suppose to. That's nothing new to me."

"I'm just a little worried, is all." He admits.

"There's no need to be." I reassure him. "He's got a handle on things."

Dear God did I eat those words a week later in Dallas, Texas.

It's like watching a fucking car accident. 

Except instead of a car, it's my husband, and instead of a car accident, it's him losing his ever loving mind, crouched on the hotel room desk, as he babbles on, making absolutely no sense as he shouts at his parents who aren't even present.

I just came back from the pool, got a shower, and came in to him doing this.

"Nikki!" I try to get him out of whatever drug-induced show he's on.

"I'm not me! I'm not Nikki! I'm someone else!" He insists, hands yanking at his hair, his eyes completely taken over by an entirely different beast. 

I panic, immediately calling Fred.

"The fuck is wrong?!" He asks when I open the door, hearing Nikki's screaming and carrying on and I try to keep the absolute fear that's locking up my system from showing.

"I-I don't know. I got in from the pool and he was kinda jittery but I thought he'd done some blow, but then he started screaming when I was in the shower and now he's--"

Fred gets tired of hearing Nikki's meaningless shrieks at people who aren't in the room with us, and snatches him off the desk.

Nikki hits the floor, and a switch is flipped, sending him into strong convulsions, opting thick, white foam to pour from his mouth.

"Fuck, Sixx!" Fred lets out, turning him on his side. "Get me a roll of toilet-paper." He barks at me and I do as I'm told, saying a very colorful, silent prayer in my head. 

He tries to get Nikki to bite down on it to keep him from biting his tongue, but Nikki can't do it. screaming instead.

When I think I can't take the confused, scared, out-of-character shrill, it's like God himself knocks Nikki out, leaving Fred and I in complete silence, riddled with what just happened.

Fred checks his pulse and sighs in relief, looking at me.

"Viv, are you alright?" He asks me, taking deep breaths.

"Y-yeah." I say, nodding, even though I know it's written all over my face that I can't be further from "alright."

"Vivian--"

"I just need a second." I tell him, standing up to go to the bathroom, disguising oncoming tears in a strong, steady voice that's physically uncomfortable to push past the lump in my throat.

I lock myself inside the bathroom and turn the water back on, gripping the counter before I find myself in the floor, quiet sobs rocking through me.

I just want my Nikki back...not this tainted demon nesting himself in Nikki's skin, festering his bullshit in Nikki's mind.

By the time I'm worn down from crying, and tired from lying on the bathroom floor, I pull myself up and open the bathroom door, stepping into the room.

I guess Fred put Nikki in the bed before he left, because Nikki's still passed out, just tucked in the covers. 

I get pajamas on, scared to even touch him because I don't want him to start seizing again.

Cautiously getting closer to him, nestling my forehead against his arm, I thank God for the feeling of his pulse under my finger tips in the crook of his arm, and find myself passing out with utter exhaustion.

The next morning, Nikki's really quiet.

I'm not sure if he remembers what happened last night, but I'm not asking him. 

After finding a needle and evidence of an 8-ball of coke, he can lick my twat if he thinks I'm talking to him anytime soon. 

The video shoot for Home Sweet Home is happening today, and a limo picks Nikki and I up at the hotel, driving us to the venue, neither of us acknowledging the other. 

Once we get there, someone's dressing Nikki like a damn toddler, because he's too fucked from last night to dress himself in his done up stage costume.

Nikki was so, so, so, obviously, utterly fucked up when they filmed the music video for Home Sweet Home. 

The entire time, he was chugging Jack to try to calm himself down from a high he later described felt like, "being on acid and speed at the same time" and with the way he was acting like he couldn't see a damn thing, I believe it. 

He kept sunglasses on a majority of the time so people couldn't see how his eye were practically doing cartwheels. 

"Viv, we're about to start, where's Nikki?" His bass tech asks me and I glance around, furrowing my brows a little.

"I haven't seen in him about an hour. He went over there by the stage...at least I think he did." I tell him, stepping over to the last place I saw him. "He was here and..." I trail off, hearing Nikki having a full blown conversation, his voice coming from underneath the stage.

The two of us sit and listen for a moment, realizing Nikki's just talking, taking long pauses, then answering a question that was never asked by anybody, not even himself.

"Who is he talking to?" His tech asks me under his breath so Nikki won't hear.

I roll my jaw, getting fed up.

"Probably the fucking demon he sees and befriends every time he gets high." I state, fully believing that at this point, there is indeed a demon following him around, breathing down his neck, stripping him of his control and cheering him on with each grain of coke, bottle of Jack, cc of heroin and prescription-grade pill.

"Nikki," His tech starts. "Who're you talking to?"

"I'm talking. Leave me alone." Nikki argues.

"Nikki." I state, looking at him. 

It's the first time he's heard my voice all day.

"There's nobody there, baby. C'mon." I motion my hand for him to get out from under the stage.

"Leave me alone!" He snaps at me, nearly hissing.

"Dude, calm down, you're freaking out." His tech tells him. 

"Nikki, get your ass out from under there or so help me God, I will come in and drag you out by your dick." I promise him. 

He puffs up like a pissed off rooster and stomps out, passing by us, grumbling under his breath.

Do you wanna know what was really fucked up about that time? Vince couldn't have a beer without someone losing their mind. He was supposed to be sober. Nikki would bust Vince's balls if he even saw him looking at a bottle...but then Nikki would load anything and everything into his body, simultaneously.

Vince quickly became the odd man out, and had been ever since that night with Razzle. There was this vibe, this tension, that Vince was only kept in the band at that time, because they were getting hotter and hotter, and each member was the ticket to reach their full potential as a band. Each member was important.

Without Tommy, there was no band. Without Mick, there was no band. Without Nikki, there was no band.

And without Vince, there was no band...that was the one that really didn't sit too well with Sikki.