#and for the record my tag ranting is still not the fucking tip of this iceberg.
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anotherhamiltonblog · 4 years ago
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Unwritten Destiny pt 1
Unwritten Destiny part 1 a Daveed Diggs x OFC fic (partly Rafael Casal x OFC)
Rose Soo faceclaim is Christian Serratos(Rosita from TWD)
Warnings: Flirtation? Cursing? Embarrassment. Some fluff? Pregnancy. Some social media in there. Talk of Cheating... that’s it i think. ALSO ITS NOT PROOF READ.
Word Count: 2.5k(maybe a little more. i forgot now)
Forever Tag: @i-know-i-can​
Enjoy.
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The first time Rose ever spoke with Daveed, it was back in 2015, she was trying to call her cousin. Yet a male answered the call. Not that Rose even noticed, she went straight into a rant about her delayed flight. Her asshole boyfriend who refused to travel with her and how she was starving. 
Of course, after finding out that it was a man named Daveed listening to her rant. Rose listened to him explain that Pip had left her phone at his place after their cast dinner. It was past midnight and Rose was waiting for late flight from L.A to NYC to spend time to her cousin.
The two happily chatted, going on random things. Like the Hamilton show and how much Daveed was really enjoying his part in it. Daveed kindly talked to her until she had to board her plane.
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The second time was when her cousin Phillipa was dragging Rose to a after party after the show. Rose had been fighting with her boyfriend over the phone a few minutes before they had arrived. To say her mood had turned sour was an understatement. She was on break from filming The Walking Dead and just wanted to spend time with her cousin. He didn’t want to join her, his loss. So, as she stood around, a cup in her hand, Rose couldn’t help but roll her eyes and judge the party. Not that meant to do so, she was just in a foul mood.
“Hey! Pip’s cousin!” a voice called out, Rose looking over and raised an eyebrow. “Daveed… we once talked for over an hour on the phone?”
At that she laughed and held out a hand. “Ah, a face to the voice… I’m Rose, or Rosie.” She introduced herself.
“Well it’s nice to finally meet you.” He winked and looked around. “Enjoying the party?”
At the question, Rose pulled a face. “I mean, it’s ok. Feels a little… high school scene.” She admitted. “The red solo cups, tacky music…” she shrugged and looked around. “At least everyone’s having a good time!” She added with a laugh.
“DIGGS!” A voice yelled out from Daveed’s other side. “Dude… where is the food? Also… I might have broken a vase. BUT I cleaned up the mess!”
Rose’s face paled and her jaw dropped. “Wait… it’s your party?” she asked turning to the two men. Cursing under her breath when Daveed nodded, Rose tipped back the drink in her cup before excusing herself.
She could not believe she just bad mouthed the party to the fucking host. God this was not her night.
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By the third time they were talking, after countless teasing from Daveed at the ‘boring’ dinner and ‘horrible’ music the restaurant was playing. Rose ignored him, while the rest of the Hamilton cast were laughing and having a jolly good time.
“Yo, where you going?” Rafael asked when Rose stood up.
She just gave him a pointed look and held up her phone, showing a call was coming through. Turning, making sure she had her ringing phone, Rose walked away from the table.
Standing outside of the restaurant, talking to her boyfriend, more arguing then having a conversation. Rose talked, expressing herself and moving her hand around as they fought.
“Trouble in paradise…” Daveed commented, everyone really trying to ignore the girl outside, not that it was easy. They were seating next to the windows, which gave them perfect view of Rose.
“Not that it’s anyone’s concern… her boyfriend is an asshole who didn’t want her to come visit.” Phillipa glanced at everyone and went back to talk with Jasmine.
When the girl came back to the table, her eyed, red and slightly puffy from crying. She picked up her purse and put down money. “I gotta go… I’m sorry.”
With that, she didn’t wait for anyone to stop her. She turned and rushed out.
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Being busy with the show, comic con and interviews. Rose was finally getting time off. The year was 2016 when the two ran into each other. The two being in Miami, while one was on a break, the other was simply just on her day off from Comic Con and photoshoots.
Walking the beach, wearing a one-piece black bathing suit that showed off all of her back. Rose was enjoying her time away from her cast mates. She loved everyone she worked with, yet these little moments when she could just breath and he herself. It was what she preferred.
“Rose?” a strange, yet very familiar voice called out. Causing the dark-haired girl to turn and be shocked to see Daveed standing there.
Shirtless.
In just swim trunks.
Damn
“Hey! What brings you here to Miami?” she asked, a small smile on her face.
“My group is doing some shows here…” he chuckled. “I’m just enjoying the sun and almost deserted beach.”
Nodding, Rose looked around before facing the ocean. “It is nice when almost no one is around, huh?”
“What are you doing here?”
Turning back to face the man, Rose chuckled. “Uh, work… This is my day off. Tomorrow I’m back at comic con and interviews about the new upcoming season.” She sighed, rubbing the back of her neck.
“Oh true… I’ve been watching that. The ending of season six… that was fucked up.” Daveed grinned and raised an eyebrow, nudging Rose softly. “Come on… give up some spoilers?”
Laughing and nudging him back, Rose shook her head. “No can do.” She laughed, the two giving the other a small smile.
Spending the rest of the day together, Rose snapping photos for Daveed to post. Only for him to do the same for her, he snapped various photos, some without her knowing.
Rose had a good day; she had planned on spending it alone. To clear her head from her idiot ex, yet by nightfall, as she got back to her hotel room, after having dinner with Daveed. Rose realized she didn’t think about Mark once the whole time she was out.
Grabbing her phone, she found Daveed’s number and clicked on it to send a message.
Rosie: ‘Thanks for today. I hope you have a great show. I’ll have to try and make it to one of your shows before leaving!’ D. Diggs: ‘Tell me which night your free and I’ll arrange it for you!’ Rosie: ‘Will you also arrange the menu, the venue, the seating?’
Giggling at her little Thomas Jefferson jab, she started to take off her makeup waiting for a reply. When her phone dinged. She picked it up and giggled.
D. Diggs: ‘You think you cute or something?’ Rosie: ‘Oh, I think I’m adorable! 😉’
When she didn’t hear back from him, she went and got ready for bed after posting a photo pn twitter.
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Her phone going off hours later with a new text, yet Rose was already fast asleep.
She was sad when the opportunity to go see Daveed with his group never came. Though she tried to get a night off. She wasn’t able too. Something Daveed luckily understood. Not that either party were particularly happy with it.
Rosie: ‘Sorry I couldn’t make it to your show… ☹’ D. Diggs: ‘I understand. You’re a busy gal.’
Getting on the plane with her castmates, Rose sighed and fixed herself on the seat and fell asleep.
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2017. A year in which Rose didn’t see anyone other than her castmates and boyfriend. Going as far as changing her number to stop all the fighting she was having with Mark. He hated that she was texting Daveed. So, she did everything to not talk to him anymore. No matter how much she missed the man.
By the end of 2017, things were going so horrible that Rose couldn’t take it anymore. She was in the middle of packing her bags while Phillipa was waiting in the living room for her.
“I can’t believe you would do this!” she yelled at Mark, fed up with all the lying and cheating. “After everything I did for you. Fuck. You!” she snapped, pulling on her coat and grabbing the four bags she had packed.
“I’ll be sending someone to get the rest of my stuff. You touch one thing that’s mine. I won’t hesitate in going to the cops and charging you with the abuse you put me through.” She hissed, raising an eyebrow at Marks scoff.
“No one will believe a bitch like you.”
Grinning, she nodded slowly. “I have proof. Pictures, videos and voice recordings.” She said calmly, “So don’t fucking test me.”
With that said, she turned and stormed out of the room and went downstairs. Her cousin helped her with grabbing two bags, and they left the house.
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Being at the Premiere of Blindspotting, Rose was excited. When Rafael messaged her on Twitter and asked her to be his ‘date’ seeing as he had recently broken up with his girlfriend and didn’t want to go alone. Deciding to go for it, Rose was more than happy to dress up and be one of the first people to see the movie.
At the Premiere, she was on Rafael’s arm, the two talking and having a good time. When they bumped into Daveed, Rose still smiled. Despite the little green monster on her shoulder when she saw him with the gorgeous Emmy Raver-Lampman. The four talked, she allowed them to take pictures with the cast of the movie, even getting pulled into some photos thanks to Rafael.
By the end of the night, both Jasmine and Rose were ready for the after party.
At the party, the girls were dancing, drinking and laughing together. Jasmine telling Rose about how Daveed and Emmy met back during the Hamilton days and they started dating a few days back.
Rose told Jasmine about her ex, the cheating and beatings. The end and how Phillipa went to help her leave. Then the random message Rafael sent to invite her and how the two hit it off. Just as friends,
Not that the night ended like that, after lots of alcohol and light touches, Rose and Rafael ended up sharing a hotel room and bed that night.
The next morning, neither really minded what happened, deciding to keep it up simply for pleasure. Seeing as neither one of them were in a relationship.
There were times, Rose would go visit man, go on tour with him and Daveed, whenever she wasn’t filming. He would come to Georgia to visit her as well. The two hitting it off pretty well. When they decided to end things, around the time Daveed and his girlfriend Emmy split. Magazines always making things up about the two friends, everyone wanting to know if they were dating, or what was going on.
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Rose found herself living in New York. 2019 was starting to look a lot better than she expected, only problem… Rose was pregnant, and Rafael was now dating some pretty model. He knew, of course he knew. So did his girlfriend. They all decided that Rose would keep the baby and split visitations.
The situation was a weird one, not that Rose cared, she was happy, Rafa was happy. Everyone was happy.
On an afternoon walk, she was surprised when she bumped into Rafael, who was waiting for Daveed. Jokingly posting a photo of Rafael on her Instagram, tagging Daveed. The two waited around for the other male. Just walking around and laughing. Rafael buying her a New York pretzel as they waited.
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By the time Daveed joined them, the guys kept making her stop to take pictures of them every now and again. Rose rolling her eyes and smile each time.
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“Come on… Phillipa is waiting for us to have a late lunch!” Rose linked her arm with the two males, and they headed to the cute deli.
Sitting down, Rose asked for an iced tea and a smoked ham deli sandwich with a side of tator tots. Everyone at the table being quiet and just sitting around after the orders were placed.
“So… we gonna talk about the elephant in the room?” Daveed asked, glancing around his friends at the table.
“I think I’m gonna call him Dumbo, Jim and Henry…” Rose said, looking behind Daveed, who turned and saw mini statues of elephants on a shelf.
Thankfully that broke the ice and they fell into comfortable talk, mostly about work. When the food came, Rose scrunched up her face when the smell of smoked ham hit her. Covering her mouth, she excused herself and rushed off to the bathroom.
Rafael on her heels, along with Phillipa who went into the bathroom with her.
Daveed’s POV:
Watching Rafael come back, Daveed raised an eyebrow. “She ok?” He asked, obviously worried.
“Hmm?” Rafa raised an eyebrow and lifted his head once he sat down. “Oh… shit man. I didn’t even.” But he trailed off. “Remember how we were kind of seeing each other and broke off a month back cause I met Adrienne?” he looked up at his best friend and slouched back in his seat. “She’s pregnant. I mean, we don’t want to terminate the pregnancy. Adrienne is ok with it, understands that Rose and I were never in love… simply physical between us.”
Daveed rubbed his forehead. “Well… there goes my chance with her.” He mumbled and
Rafael furrowed his eyebrows and leaned forward. “What do you mean?” he asked his best friend. “You’ve been with Emmy… That’s why I asked her out man.” He kept his voice down so those around wouldn’t hear.
“Yeah, I know. Why do you think we didn’t work out. She’s a great girl. Talented… but she’s not Rose. I was waiting for y’all to end so I could ask her out.”
“Well, you still can… I mean, if you don’t mind her being pregnant or anything. Won’t be like it’s some strangers kid or anything.” Rafa suggested with a smirk. “She’s a great gal ya know.”
Daveed just sighed and shut up when the girls returned.
“Hey, I asked them to switch your sandwich. Hopefully Roast Beef will be better for you.” Daveed grinned at Rose, noticing the slight blush on her cheeks.
“Aw, thanks Diggs.” She smiled and kissed his cheek before sitting back down. “Don’t worry… I washed my mouth with mouth wash I carry around.” She added making Daveed chuckle.
After everyone ate, Phillipa went to the theater her show was at, Rafa left to head back to the apartment he was sharing with his girlfriend while they are in New York,
Daveed looked at Rose and smiled. “Want to go grab some ice cream?” he asked and offered his arm to the girl, she grinned and nodded, agreeing to go with him.
The rest of the day went nicely, with both Rose and Daveed walking around New York, acting as if they were tourists visiting the city for the first time.
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AN: That’s the first chapter. It’s long. the fic itself will only be around 5-6 parts.
Hope you all enjoyed this!
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propertyofnikkisthighs · 4 years ago
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She’s My Collar pt. 5
So I was gonna try to upload an update for both fics, but I’m still feeling yucky so have this chapter for now which I’m sorry if it’s not great, the next one will be better I promise lol.
Tag List: @nowhereiswhereibelong​ @littlemisscare-all​
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“Miss did you hear me?” The officer in front of me grunts.
“I’m sorry could you repeat the question for me?” I ask shyly focusing on him and not Kevin shouting and thrashing as the other cops are shoving him into the police car.
“I asked you if you could give me your recount of the events that took place tonight.”
“Oh right. Well…”
The flames are starting the consume the curtains and spread across the carpet as Tommy and I round the corner from my bedroom. I make a beeline for the kitchen to grab the extinguisher I had luckily purchased when Nikki started lighting himself on fire in their apartment. I toss it to Tommy and he gets everything currently on fire doused with the foamy liquid. 
“What the fuck?” He wonders aloud as he reaches down picking up a broken bottle out of the mess. “River who the fuck would throw a moltov cocktail in your apartment?”
It’s like Loki the God of chaos himself is answering him when my door is kicked in and Kevin sways in full of intoxicated rage. He spots me frozen with fear against the fridge and begins to stomp towards me.
“You fucking good for nothing cunt I should’ve killed you when I had the chance” He screams and lunges towards me but is knocked to the ground by Tommy tackling him.
Tommy’s fist is covered in blood by the time I can get him pulled off Kevin and he spits on him as I get him pulled out of there just in time for the police and fire department to be pulling into the parking lot.
“We’ll be in touch.” The man hands me his card with his info on it before getting in his car and leaving.
Tommy is silent as we walk back to my apartment for me to inspect the damage done. My plants near my window scorched and my carpet destroyed is enough to send me over the edge. I collapse in the fetal position and let myself break down for the first time since the chaos began. I feel Tommy lay on the ground next to me and wrap his arms around me letting me have my moment. 
“Thank you.” I hoarsely let out.
“I told you that you were stuck with us guys for the rest of your life especially me.” He pressed a small kiss to my shoulder and butterflies filled my stomach.
“Let's get off the ground.” I sniffle the both of us sitting back up slowly and eventually clambering back into my bed. 
He pulls me against his body and rests his chin on the top of my head, the soft movement of him breathing lulling me to sleep.
“It’s the goddamn principal of the matter.” Nikki ranted as he paced through my living room while I tried to enjoy my morning coffee.
“So tell Vince you’re pissed.”
“No I can’t let him think he won. He needs to think I never wanted Beth in the first place.” He scoffed.
“Did you want Beth?”
“She gives great blowjobs. That’s why I suggested a threesome in the first place.” He plops into one of my chairs looking up at the ceiling.
“Listen Nikki I’m gonna be brutally honest since we’re friends and you would be with me, this is your fault for opening up your girlfriend to Vince Neil.”
“I hate it when you’re right you know that?”
“You’ll find a new groupie to fuck Nikki you’ll be fine. Now we gotta get to the studio you boys have photos for the album we need to take today.”
The boys had finished recording their first album by the grace of God himself. They spent the entire few days in the studio drunk and pissing off their sketchball manager, but by the end of it they had a full blown album that didn’t take much money to produce. They even got to save money on photos for the album since I was their personal photographer, which aforementioned sketchball was thrilled about. His name was Alan, but I didn’t have a good feeling about him so I rarely referred to him by his name, not to his face.
“My hair isn’t going to show!” Vince pouted in front of the (awful) white background Alan had thrown together for their album pictures.
“It’ll be fine Vinnie we’re gonna get them edited by a professional.” He quipped from beside me.
“Excuse me?” I ask unaware he was having somebody else  edit my photos.
“Well yeah sweetheart you expect me to trust the work of an amature to look good enough without editing? You’re out of your mind.” 
“Listen here you sweaty ass-” I’m cut off by Tommy’s hand covering my mouth blocking the next slew of insults I had prepared.
“Let's take 5 for a cigarette break” He says cheerfully and leads me away still covering my mouth.
“You can stop licking my hand thinking that is gonna make me move it from your mouth you know.” Tommy says after dragging me outside the building we were shooting in. I pull away from him and fix him with a death glare that he just chuckles at lighting up a cigarette.
“I don’t want someone else to fuck with my photos Tommy. They’ll ruin it, I just know it.”
“It’ll be fine Riv. Besides if it’s fucked up then next time Alan can pay you more to do the photos and the editing.”
“Yeah that cheap bastard isn’t about to pay me more for jack shit Tommy.” I roll my eyes and pace back and forth in front of him. “Are you guys sure you want him as your manager? He gives me a weird feeling.”
“I think you’re paranoid babe” Tommy pulled me close and placed a kiss on my forehead. “Now lets get through this photoshoot so we can party it up later alright?”
“As much as I hate The Troubadour sometimes, yes I’m willing to get through the rest of the photoshoot so that we can go ‘party it up’ with the boys there” I tease and lean in close to him.
Tommy’s intoxicating scent of leather, cigarettes, and the men’s body wash I’ve been getting him to use pulls me in and I tuck my face into his neck and place a soft kiss there. He hums as his hand plays softly in my hair and he pulls slightly to tilt my head up. Our lips connect in a soft peck and he pulls away to stroke my cheek with his thumb.
When I walk back in Alan was nowhere to be found, which was perfect for me so that I could get my work done faster. Vince it seems has also finished his little temper tantrum as well. The rest of the shoot goes by without a hitch and we get our final shot for the cover of the album, which was just a close up shot of Vince’s crotch. By the time we get done and piled into my car it’s about time to get ready for the party the boys were throwing for completing the album and releasing it themselves on their own record label.
“Are you Nikki Sixx?” A voice off to the side of Nikki calls and he turns from our conversation with a shit eating grin giving her a single “no”  in response.
“Oh well that’s a shame cause I was going to split this quaalude with him.” She shrugs and goes to move on, but Nikki quickly stops her and confirms he in fact is Nikki Sixx and he was just fucking with her.
I watch her smile and bite her drug in half placing the other half onto Nikki’s tongue and he looks like he just might be falling in love for the first time. I look around and see Vince and Beth wrapped up together and Mick nursing his bottle of vodka, but I can’t find Tommy. I make my way through the crowd up to the bar and I don’t spot the tall brunette anywhere. He could just be outside smoking a cigarette, I tell myself feeling the bits of insecurity start to blossom in my head. 
“Two Jack and Cokes please” I say to the bartender when I finally get his attention. I figure if I go to find Tommy with a drink in hand it makes me look less like a crazy person.
“What’s a pretty girl like you doing ordering your own drinks?” The man to my left says and I have to put effort into not rolling my eyes.
“Well nothing on me is broken so I’m more than capable of getting my own drinks” I shoot back trying to walk away, but his hand comes up to block me from going forward.
“I’m just saying if you got a man he should be catering to you. What’s your name goddess?” His sickening grin shows teeth all too white against far too tan of skin. 
“Her name is none of your business.” A deep huff comes from behind me and I turn to see Mick casually leaning against the bar.
“What are you her fucking dad?” The overly bronze man snaps.
“I’m trying to help you, but if you don’t want to keep all your fucking teeth that’s your dumbass decision.” Mick chuckles and tips his head to Tommy making his way towards us already sending hate eyes to the man next to me.
“You should listen to the man.” I shrug. “He fights.” I nod toward Tommy for emphasis.
The man looks like he’s about to argue when I feel Tommy slide his arm across my shoulders.
“This guy bothering you babe?” He asks sipping the drink in my hand never breaking eye contact with the strange guy with a look that said ‘one wrong move and I’ll kill you.
I smile like a cat that just caught a mouse and sip my drink as well.
My back hits the back wall of the closet as Tommy tries to find a secure place to hold my body so he can kiss me and grind into me at the same time.
“Fuck can I get this kind of reaction everytime I stick up for you.” Tommy pants breaking away from our kissing to catch his breath.
He hisses as I grind against him while pulling his hair back to expose his neck to me. I take the opportunity to nip at the skin there and feel the rumbling of another groan pass through him. Tommy begins to unlace his pants and suddenly the realization of how public we are hits me. Right as a worker opens the closet door to be exact.
“Ah I’m so sorry!” I yelp climbing off Tommy and rushing out of the closet and out the back door. Tommy is hot on my tail quickly catching up with the help of his long ass legs.
“Come on.” Tommy begins leading me to my car. “We’re going to your apartment to finish this.
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rightnowyoucanttell · 4 years ago
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Malibu, Next To You
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Title: Malibu, Next To You 
Summary: Is it supposed to this hot all summer long? Or is it just him? A very fluffy date with some minor molehills between Veronica and Grayson on a Malibu beach. Just because the sun is down, the night is still young, and so are they. But which way does it go...
Warnings: Fluff, implied smut (I don’t write smut, sorry guys), talks of anxiety 
A/N: When this idea came to mind, i say that because i have a roughly planned full series timeline in my head it started with just the first part as a blurb but then I was like hey let's make a series, it was originally to be a reader insert (Y/N, Y/L/N, ect.) but i always have problems doing that as they feel too weird to write so I came up with Veronica and added it to the plot/timeline whatever you'd call it. so you can do that or appreciate it for the beauty it is with Veronica and Grayson. 
Tags: @dzoint ​ @graysavant @blindedbythelightt ​ @tadadolan @heartofalionxo ​ @beatement-l ​  @grayswhore ​@saggitariusagirl @tattoogray @onlyangels-world @dxlxnbby
Part one 
Series Masterlist
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“You know..” Ronnie drifted as she walked kicking the sand beneath her feet forward in a rhythmic pattern,” I’ve never enjoyed going to the beach..” Veronica glanced up from the sand and over to Grayson who gazed down to the ground before making eye contact.
The smell of saltwater brushed their noses, seagulls cawed in the distance as the water crashed closer and closer and then pulled itself back out. The pair, Ronnie and Gray watched the sunset as they walked barefoot as the tide came in and set back out, like both of their hearts, coming to a calm stop and then flooding back in a rampage of fluttering butterflies, beating in there chest.
He explained the currents and she just gawked in a secretive manner, so he didn’t notice, the dumbfounded look his body gave her. 
    “Really? You don’t say, I mean I figured that much, for someone who has a fear of seagulls and drowning…” he pondered the thought as his feet stopped the wallow in the incoming tide that was just far enough from Ronnie who was in the dry portion of sand.
She giggled shaking her head continuing down the shore all while facing Grayson,”..are you saying you’re not enjoying yourself?” he shouted over the crashing waves that he ran from to catch up to her. 
“You remembered…,” Ronnie’s heart fluttered. Grayson knew about her anxiety.  Ronnie explained to Grayson that night in Starbucks, her fears, in return for him doing the same.  There was a semi prolix list. Seagulls, birds, circus clowns, large crowds, heights, and significantly Drowning.
She shook herself from the bliss and continued, “but, no. No no, no.. of course not. You brought me here!” she exclaimed twirling with open arms, the wind catching her grey wool shawl that covered her white strapless sundress with bright red roses.
Her damp dark brown hair caught in the breeze flew gently, her eyelids covered her vibrant green eyes. Grayson’s eyes followed Veronica in awe as she twirled in the sand and breeze all the way as she ran back to him and nearly ran into him. 
   The two laughed and turned around to walk back to the there picnic blanket, both inaudible deciding it was time to eat,” Your something else, you know that?” he offered up to the conversation. His hand brushed against gently against Ronnie’s. 
   Ronnie just smiled letting silence sit between then,”..Something good I hope…” the entirety of the walk back to the picnic blanket and the food was silence, blissful and incentive for Grayson, but nervous and nerve wracking for Veronica. She hastily wondered if she had said the wrong thing, or turned him off or away and that’s why he hadn’t said anything, but she tried telling herself it was just the anxiety and the nerves this Italian boy from New Jersey stirred up. 
  Veronica Chandler likely always would be anxiety-ridden. After all, Fears my life, Ronnie had the words tattooed on and wrapping around her wrist. The black ink still had water droplets from when she had been swimming and wading in the water with Grayson. Veronica left the fishing on her stepfather’s, Darren,  boat to him and her older brother Noah, even all the while, an excelling science student, she never got how they were floating.  
    However, if tonight, if Grayson asked her, Ronnie probably would step foot on a boat.  She never willing went to the beach, even though living in Miami with private beach access growing up at her home, and certainly did not stand by the ocean. But on this evening, Grayson brought her there, and she was happy that he did.
So here they were. 
  The sunset warmed Veronica the pinks and blues entangling themselves, like the hopes of how Veronica undeniably wanted to be entangled with Grayson later that night. Something in Grayson hoped it too.
On a picnic blankets, following a stroll along with the tide on the now rather deserted from the public eye, on a beach in Malibu. Munching on what Ronnie’s mom would call “Rabbit Food”. 
  “This is one of the best wraps I’ve ever tasted,” Ronnie added as she quietly finished chewing her toes in the sand below and surrounding the blanket. 
"Its from.." Grayson paused to chew," this stand in downtown LA, Marty's I think, they're delicious." They made eye contact, Ronnie smiled with her eyes, covering her mouth as she was chewing.
"We should go together sometime,"Ronnie offered nervously.
 "Defiently...,"Grayson brushed his hands above the wrap on a clear piece of plastic wrap beefy ass salad chickpea wrap sat on, in between final swallows of his bites of food he started, "so... care to explain why you ignored me for a week, 'ronica?"
   That's when the evening went south.
What Grayson didn't know, that the week Veronica avoided him..one week desperate Gray was left with no sign she was alive, no text, calls, and no DM’S except the confirmation seen from the first night. 
 That week the week she ignored him, the week he was referring too, Veronica,  was in Miami visiting her mother. Veronica had deep-rooted feelings for Grayson.. but, again, like a record used, the last had left a few scratches, and overtime... they scarred.
But it was nothing, Gianna, Mama Chandler couldn't fix...
   Ronnie sighed heavily,"Why does everyone I love settle for someone so low of them?" She pondered the thought in silence as she finished her rant of the night she met Grayson.
 “..well, he sounds like a keeper..and handsome....,” her mother drifted. Ronnie wasn’t paying attention fondling with the small strands that belonged to the blue and white polka-dotted beach towel her mother and herself were tanning on. Within seconds her attention was grabbed by an incoming frisbee, that landed...perfectly in one of the white polka dots. Ronnies eyes widened when she caught its sight, she gazed curiously and then picked it up examine it, before tossing it to the wind aimlessly,”-Veronica! You could have hit someone!” Gianna gently smacked the four-arm of her daughter’s right hand with the back of her hand. 
    “Mom!? What the fuck? Did you not see that it landed in the circle, that’s not a coincidence...that’s a fucking conspiracy. Like how a cartoon predicted 9/11 and then moon landing was faked...," Ronnie slumped back so her back rested against the beach chair set up behind her. 
"It was an accidental coincidence..dear," her mother licked the tip of her finger pulling the pages apart. Her sun hat covers her sunglasses covered eyes, and held her brown hair in place around her shoulders, she was paler than Ronnie, she and noah got there skin from her absentee father, he was the Brazilian in her jeans.
"Yeah well, accidents don't just happen, accidentally, mother," Veronica huffed and crossed her arms leaning back farther and closing her eyes, enjoying momental peace before the woman started up again.
"When you head back to Los Angeles, you better text that boy, I'll be damned if you pass up a chance with someone like that. He's a good one that Grayson, I can tell. You cant let your life wither away to nothing and give up on love because of one bad drinker and a beater bad apple.. theres good people out there.. you just gotta look in front of you."
The memory on the beach faded, she hadn't realized she had been gazing into Grayson's hazel eyes the entire time the flashback played out in her head like a scene from a movie,"do you, uh. Really want to know? Is it fundamentally necessary.." she drifted off leaving a tenacious gap of silence. Just the wind and the waves to be heard.
Grayson scoffed a chuckle,"..well, no, but, I'd like to know."
Ronnie thought for a few moments, if she didnt tell him, he'd be suspicious, if she told him he might doubt the feelings she had if they were legitament,"I was in Miami. With my mom, i needed advice. A break. I was worried you were..a player. And now I know, I know that your not. Your kind, cute, hot, sexyyy, and-"Veronica's ramble was cut off by Graysons hands wrapping and cupping her head into his hands and pressing his lips to hers.
Internal fire works went off, if it were a movie they would be exploding over the water between there heads just visable to camera shot. Both hearts beat against there respective rib cages, not knowingly they both had been wating for this moment the entirety of the night.
Ronnie's hand came to touch Grays chest shortly before she came up to breath in the salty air,"that.." she panted,"was hot. But, I dont know.. if this'll work. I'm lonely and broken.. and can barely take care of myself, just, Grayson-"
"I like that your broken, and lonely" he grasped her face one hand still behind her head his thumb caressing her cheek,"not like in a kinky sort of way," they both laughed for a few seconds, Ronnie looked down. He placed his pointer fingern underneath her chin, tilting it up,"I could be lonely with you.."
"My place or yours?" She smirked. Hoping that night of entanglement would happen after all.
"Mine, definetly mine." He breathed there chins pressed together.
Ronnie had never run faster than she didn that night, all the way back to the porsche.
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seb-owns-these-tatas · 5 years ago
Text
Fix (Tj Hammond) (Pt.2)
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PART 1
Characters: NSFW. Sub!Bi!TJ Hammond x You
Summary: You've went home and was welcomed by a very high TJ who was clean for a year since you've been together. Your boy even did something wrong, resulting to you in reacting very hostile and leading to a hot night considering that he needed to learn his lessons for disobeying you.
Warning: Female oral, nudity, drugs, cusses, PEGGING, Unprotected sex (Don't forgot to cover the willies okay?) Sub/Dom relationship! Suggestive recording of lemon tape (THIS IS SMUT)
Words: 7,596. FEEL THE FILTH! (It is really longer than the the previous part heck!)
A/N: THIS IS NOT SUITABLE FOR VERY YOUNG AUDIENCES. LOOK AWAY, PURE TATER TOT. LOOK AWAY. DON'T SCROLL DOWN IF YOU AREN'T 18 YEARS OLD OR NOT EVEN CONSIDERED LEGAL IN YOUR COUNTRY. I'M GIVING MY ALL IN THIS SHIT! GIVE ME SOME CRAZY FEEDBACKS, Y'ALL! LET’S HOPE THIS POST OF MINE WON’T GET FLAGGED BY TUMBLR. -_-
Disclaimer: GIF'S and PNG'S aren't mine, however the whole one shot and edits are rightfully mine to begin with.
Dedicated: @caps-boo-bear (Still couldn’t tag ya bud!) @angel-of-hell-cece1967​ @anxiousamandapanda​
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"--Trust comes with love, and I love you very very much. This means that I trust you either," You gently patted his warm, smooth, broad back. Whispering loving words against his ear, "I just don't want you going back to the life you were used to, I don't want you to get caught up in your drug addictions again, Teej."
Tj couldn't help the small moans that escaped his lips when you were rubbing his back, it felt good. Too good for him to take. The pleasure he felt was travelling inside his pantaloon. What did he just take? He thought to himself when you kept on whispering loving words filling his heart. Ecstacy. He remembered before mentally groaning. That was why he could feel him growing inside his pants even though you were mad at him and he was weeping.
Well, that was really a huge change in his emotions. He was miserable before you have hugged him and now he was horny. "---What did you even take?" You questioned him curiously, lifting his head up and unlatching his fluffy head in between your neck. Your words were completely shut down by Tj before that question erupted.
His hair was currently disheveled, Cerulean eyes turned a shade darker than the usual. Looking all murky and high, "U-Uhm," He stuttered, curling the toes of his feet as he felt all the scorching heat pooling below his stomach. He was turning harder as he was taking in your outfit, his leather jacket, black leather pants, a white v-neck shirt that was too low for his decency to take and a black heeled boots that made him sneak a hand in front of his clothed cock, slyly gripping to give a little relief. Heels. Damn you for wearing those sexy boots of yours, Tj mentally thought at the back of his mind, "Ec-Ecstacy. Yeah, Ecstacy. Two pills. Those were the only ones left inside your not so secret box," He smirked, internally groaning to himself when you threw back the lollipop in your mouth, never missing to palm himself through his tight jeans, his eyes were tempted to shut for a moment when he could feel a tiny relief wash through him, yet he fought off the urge and gnawed on his lip rather harshly.
"How'd you even find it, Teej?!" You exclaimed, sniggering as you couldn't believe him. Suddenly distracted, thinking how he found the box that you totally hid from him out of sight. Your breath hitched when you heard and felt your boyfriend take a subtle step forward, warm fingers wrapped sensually around your wrist. One move from him made your breath hitch. He ripped away the lollipop in your mouth, the mischievous glint in his never going unnoticed when you pondered. "You're acting...weird,"
Tj had a lopsided smile, a smile that looked cunning. You knew that smile, it was those types of smile of his which consists of sweat beneath the sheets, clothes completely off. Oh God. You felt him move closer, if that was even possible. Feeling his hard-on touching your clothed body and you gasped. Eyebrows up skeptically, "ARE YOU SERIOUSLY HARD RIGHT NOW?!" You exclaimed a little too loudly, not believing how hard you could feel he was.
Tj lightheadedly chuckled before you, his glassy, tantalizing cerulean eyes memorizing your face even though he already did. "So hard, Babe." He quietly murmured. The way he said his words seem to slightly turn you on as he continued to open his mouth. He was acting completely seductive and erotic.
It was working, alright.
"Squeeze me, please. I'm so fucking horny right now," Tj licked his lips, your other hand..without the lollipop languidly guiding your hands on his crotch. But, before you could get to palm him through his jeans. You were quick to whisk your hand away and you swore you heard him whimper when you did. He didn't know you actually wanted to do it, but your slightly sober self tells you not to because he was high and not on his right mind.
"No. I am not squeezing you through your jeans! And I will not have sex with you when you're high and shit, Thomas! Didn't I set some rules? Don't you remember?" You warned your baby boy who was pouting in front of you.
 He timidly nodded in understanding, chewing on his bottom lip as his breathing grew deeper. His hungry eyes craved for seeing you in lesser clothes. Tj was acting like he wasn't given his favorite candy when you've tried rejecting him. He was utterly close to stomping his feet like a child because you didn't want to cave in. "I know, I know. But, please just for tonight. I'll get to remember anything, and I'm still in my damn right state of mind. I don't care if you'll punish me..just please, I'll do everything you want! Just fuck me, Y/N. Pleaaaseeee," Tj desperately pleaded, you saw the twinkle in his eyes. Gosh, that was your weakness. He looked damn gorgeous without even trying. So hot and sexy. You can't help but vocally groan out your frustrations. You wanted to give in.
"You're so fucking hot," The hammond boy whispered, stealing the tangerine lollipop in your hand. You watched his movements like a hawk and your baby boy boldly stared back at you, cerulean eyes a shade darker with hunger and love included. He opened those wet, kissable, red lips of his. Voluptously fishing his tongue out before erotically pushing the sweet treat on the pad of his wet tongue, devouring it like what he does with your breasts.
You were downright turned on with that one simple movement. Downright hungry for what he could give. He was naughtily looking at you all through out as he continued ravishing the poor lollipop with his tongue and lips. You can't help but subtly push your thighs close together to relieve the itchy, hungry feeling. An itch that you wanted Tj to relieve so bad.
Tj kept sucking on it loudly like a kid who loved his lolly. Your eyes focusing on the lucky lollipop trapped inside his lips. He mindlessly licked his red, plump lips and swiping the sweet treat around his lips. Thinking about doing something he wanted to since you opened that mouth of yours when you started ranting out your anger a while ago.
"Mmmh!" You weakly palmed his naked chest from the jolt of spark when he immediately wrapped a hand behind your neck, his warm, hot mouth now on yours. Sloppily kissing you with fervor. You wanted this. Gosh, you've been wanting this from the moment you were with your friends. You know the alcohol in your system and your wild hormones wanted it.
So, you had no choice but to flutter your eyes closed. Completely caving in his need and apparently with yours either.
Tj softly bit your lip as you could feel his wet tongue darting out, sliding in for entrance. You wholeheartedly did. Pushing your tongue out to lap with his, both doing the Tango. The kiss was all wet, sloppy and with the need to get the heat starting.
Warm, shallow breaths were shared. Teeth grinding in with each other in a rough manner. You craned your neck higher till you could fully reach Tj's mouth and it became a whole lotta easier for the both of you when you hooked your arm around his neck, tugging him closer and tiptoeing as you desperately pushed your tongue inside his mouth, deepening the kiss. His tongue hitting with yours as he continued kissing you with his expert tongue.
You could feel your hormones running around in a frenzy. It was shocking you that you were as thirsty as the man who just had taken drugs.
And because Tj was a little too sensitive to touches. He had a higher pleasure from desire and physical touches. It was part of the effect of the Ecstacy he took, he had been more vocal than ever and he never did forget to deeply and quietly moan it in your mouth even though you two were only just kissing.
How would it even feel like for him if you both started doing more than just making out?
You could feel his slightly swollen, beet red lips releasing your bottom lip with a gentle tug of his teeth, your lips looking the same way as his. Only a dark shade of lust could be seen in his eyes and a little bit of hue around his diluted baby blue eyes. His eyes appeared to be darker than it used to be, the hunger growing larger and impossible to stop.
"I've been a very...very bad boy," Tj slurred raspily as he dragged out his words, sounding more sensual and hotter. Those quiet words of submission made you whimper, it was such a turn on and he damn knew it. The naughty lopsided smile on his face says so. His warm hand caught your wrist and he eyed your hand in front of him before languidly bringing it close to his parted delicious red lips. Filthy thoughts clouded your mind, you wanted nothing more than his lips beneath your core, desperately lapping for your juices.
"Punish me," You couldn't help the shivers when Tj lightly bit the tip of your index finger, his lust blown eyes peering down at you with a hypnotizing gaze. "I'll do anything..anything you want, Mistress."
The way he said the word 'Mistress' flicked a switch inside of you and in your needy core. Tj began sucking in the tip of your finger with his lip, he began pushing your finger in his mouth, the pad of his tongue resting on the palm of your finger.
His sucking was cut short, your finger halfway in his mouth when you stopped pushing it in. Your eyes completely enamoured by how his sinful lips were working around your finger. You cleared your throat, switching your weight from one foot to the other in excitement then slowly adding another finger in between his lip. Your digits sliding in so warmly, "Anything I want?" You gnaw on your bottom lip, watching how both of your fingers were now inside of his mouth. Debauchingly sliding in and out.
He nodded eagerly, blue eyes staring down at you with such fake innocence. "Will my baby boy like that?" You felt his tongue swirling around your digits. Your mind now completely elsewhere, wetness starting to pool in your heat from Tj's basic ministrations.
Oh, were you lusting so hard for him.
You took your damp fingers out of his lips in a pop, quickly hurling your wet digits in your mouth and eagerly sucking it off like he had done with your fingers. All the while remaining eye contact, and Tj swore he could painfully feel his cock throb beneath his jeans when he watched your fingers go in and out like he imagined it was his hard cock. It was so damn arousing.
Y/N hooked a finger around his necklace, roughly pulling him close to her face. Tj couldn't help but utter a guttural moan when she palmed him through his jeans, giving his hard, trapped cock rough squeezes. Just like how he ought to be touched, she swiftly licked her lips as she eyed him flutter his eyes closed. Y/N dragged her lips across his jaw, pressing soft, open mouthed kisses till she reached his ears, breath fanning and whispering. "I want you to eat me out,"
"Want your mouth on me, Baby.."
He keenly obliged, instantly dropping himself to his knees like the submissive that he is. Gazing up at you with that adorable, hot, dazed glimmer in his blue eyes, "You want to come in my mouth? Will my mistress want that?" Tj purred. His rough, wandering hands slipping in your shirt, fingers lightly swiping through your soft belly pouch till he reached the belt of your jeans in which he hastily unbuckled off then threw in somewhere in the kitchen.
"Baby boy's so needy and eager.." You peered down at him, watching his movement very closely. Chewing on your bottom lip, raking your hand in his soft, fluffy hair. He looked up at you, as he subtly popped the button of your jeans, zipping it down in haste. "So damn horny,"
Tj tugged at your jeans and slipped it off you in one tug, you lifted your feet to help him rip the damn clothing off your body when you realized your boots were still on. "Oh, I forgot to take my boots off--"
"Leave it." He softly demanded, throwing your jeans away, hearing a sound that made you know it hit a cubboard. You raised a brow, and he glanced to see you questioning him why. "Please," He softly pleaded, fingers hooking in the waistband of your black seamless underwear, Tj was admiring your face, staring you up beneath his eyelashes, "Want you naked with just those," Oh, was it one of his fetishes.
Your panties were off in one go, yet this time. That one tiny clothing of yours weren't thrown away. Tj slyly kept it in the pocket of his jeans, smirking beneath you once he did. His warm, grabby hands landed on your soft, silky thighs that had temporary indentations from the jeans you wore. Lines were indented on your smooth thighs and legs. He traced those with his feather-like fingers. His eyes following where his fingers trailed upon, completely dazed.
Until his hands ended on place where it was inevitable to be touched. Tj's middle finger slid in between your moisty folds, checking how wet you are and he gave out a satisfied moan when he felt how wet you are. Wet, but still not enough.
He watched how you roughly bit your bottom lip when his finger swiped your wetness, eyes fluttering closed when he searched for that tiny bud that gave your body intense pleasure. Tj began circling your clit, locking his eyes at your pleasured face. Eyes closed, lips parted with shallow breaths coming out of your mouth.
Your face was completely erotic. It was making his cock harder, if that was even possible.
The soft, delicate moans that came out of your mouth was enough to make Tj blow his mind. He was gently circling your clit, spreading your wetness around your labia, yet it still wasn't enough. He wanted to see you fully, face to face with your heat. He wanted your sweet, addictive juices in his mouth.
Tj took one of your leg, hooking it around his shoulder and he was quickly met with your wet folds. Your sweet sleek glistening against the kitchen's lights, and it was like he had seen his favorite candy because of how the dark pupil of his eyes turned larger, his eyes darkening more. "Oh, God.." He moaned, his thumb and index finger spreading your folds, seeing and feeling your wetness. All of it was for him to take and dive in. "This all for me?"
You only uttered a very lewd moan that made him quickly nose dived in your heat. Another moan escaped your parted lips, louder than the ones you've been moaning out. The way you tug on his hair was much more rougher when he flicked his tongue against your clit. Squirming against his hold, your other hand landing on the kitchen island that was behind you. You let out a loud cry when he circled his tongue against your swollen clit, lips sucking around your swollen bud. Your heart was beating a thousand times faster, and Tj was feeling more heady and euphoric once he got to taste your sweet juices.
"T-Tj," Your soul felt like it was being sucked in another planet. He moaned against you, feeling satisfied from your saccharine taste that he have been dying to taste. More. He wanted more. He immediately darted his sinful tongue inside your sleek entrance, his pointy nose rubbing with your aching bud. You pushed his head deeper, roughly tugging at his dark roots as you shifted your leg around his shoulders. Opening your legs more for him to dulge in to.
You took a glimpse of Tj's pretty face, and your mind was in a bliss. He looked completely enticing and in deep pleasure. His eyes were closed, seeming to be in another state of mind as you see his tongue darting in and out of your heat and that couldn't help but trigger you to the brink of your orgasm.
You could feel your lower abdomen tighten in a warm knot, Tj grabbed a handful of your mound, squishing your derriere on his palm, pushing you closer against his mouth as your eyes lulled back. All you had to do was lock him in between your legs, but your mischievous self had to stop your high and wound him away, tugging Tj up as you tug on his necklace till he was towering before you.
"Why'd you made me stop?" He aggravatingly spat, his lips were glistening from your juices. Mind all heady, eyes completely looking high and lips all bruised and swollen.
You gave a lopsided smile, fluttering your eyelashes up at him as you locked him hypnotized, "You've been a good boy, sweetheart."
"But now, I just want to cum around your cock," His chest vibrated as he uttered a very animalistic moan. You took his leather jacket off and Tj did his best to help you take your shirt off even though his movements were disoriented.
He mumbled a very low whimper, seeing you stark naked in front of him was making his cock ache against his jeans, in the midst of thinking about how to make him suffer less. Tj unbuckled his belt, and to make everything faster so he could stand bare..You hurriedly popped the buttons of his jeans and began helping him.
"Fuck me from behind," You stated breathless. A satisfied moan came out of you when his swollen, fat cock sprung out, the swollen, pinkish head hitting his pelvis and he couldn't help but groan from feeling free.
The look he was giving you was untamed and wild, so raunchy. You pulled at his necklace, bringing his face close until you captured his lips in a sloppy, bruising kiss full of ardor. You were craving for him and he was craving for you.
You nibbled at his swollen, bottom lip. Tj's eyes were heavy lidded and lust-filled. Your teeth gave his lower lip a hard pull, with your hand gripping around the base of his hard, veiny cock. He shut his eyes closed when you began stroking his cock, giving a few tight pumps, feeling the angry veins on the palm of your hands. "Ugh," You heard Tj emit a carnal, short moan. It sounded so good in your ears and it made you gnaw on your bottom lip, watching Tj's face twisting in utmost pleasure.
His cock was pulsing, every once in a while with every stroke given to his cock, his breath was hitching. The fingers clawing on your hip gripping tighter with every twist of your wrist. Drips of pre-cum oozing out. Automatically, your thumb swiped the pre-cum off. You watched the way your hand moved around his cock and Tj was eyeing your movements. Gaping at how you could pleasure him in the right damn ways.
Bringing your cum-filled thumb to your lips, you sucked your thumb, tasting his pre-cum and you couldn't help but hum in satisfaction, closing your eyes and showing your baby boy how delicious he tasted, making Tj whimper from how utterly erotic you looked. He tasted so salty and sweet. You popped your thumb out of your mouth, batting your eyelashes up at your baby boy. "Baby boy wants a suck?"
He still seemed to be hypnotized for a second, before you see him purse his lips as he thought, caressing your bare hip bone and with no hesitation, he shook his head. "I want in," Tj rasped with gritted teeth, before rushing to spin you around. Your heart pounded against your chest in excitement, he bent you over against the kitchen island, feeling his hand resting on the small of your back. You could feel his eyes raking you over, memorizing every detail of your flawed, but perfect body that was bent before him.
Your cunt was throbbing and aching for his cock. You heard him hum and felt his naughty, sensual hand lightly tracing your spine, his fingers lightly trailing the bone on your back, travelling lower and lower till his other hand rested on your hip, keeping you steady in place.
Your body shivered as he pressed open-mouthed kisses on your naked back. Never forgetting to give them a suck to leave a mark, releasing your skin with a lick of his tongue to soothe the fresh, new hickeys. Your eyes immediately fluttered close when he reached your neck and you couldn't help but crane your neck further for him to have more skin to kiss and suck.
A cold, metal string was laying cold on your back, in opposite of your flushed, burning skin. It was distracting your senses, thinking about how hot Tj was. All naked with only his beloved necklace, looking stoned and with one thing in his mind. To fuck you till you were spent.
Tj grabbed onto your hip rather tightly, his fingers probably leaving a mark from how tight he was gripping on your waist. His other hand gripped the base of his cock and he pulled your hip higher, jerking you upward. Half of your body resting on top of the kitchen island, proppeling on your tiptoes as he lined his swollen head on your wet entrance. Your elbows were propped on the smooth surface, trying to bend lower as you bit on your bottom lip so hard just waiting for yourself to get fucked till you could see stars.
Your eyes could see Tj's phone resting on the edge of the kitchen island and with a naughty, mischievous plan in mind seeking for vengeance, you quickly snatched and took his phone in your hand. Tj paid no mind and continued his ministrations, feeling the head of his cock finally pushing slowly in your swollen, dripping, needy core.
Inch by inch his cock was in, and you couldn't help but tightly hold onto his phone and moan out the pleasure once he was halfway inside, uttering out a louder moan when his hips gave a sharp thrust to push himself fully into you, stopping once he was settled and pulsing around your walls.
You squeezed him and it made Tj utter a low growl. Your eyes were tempted to flutter closed, but your plans made you not to as you looked beneath your eyelashes and dialed in a number that wasn't in his contacts anymore. A number whom you memorized in case he decides to plan and gatecrash into your steady relationship, wanting to gain something from your baby boy.
Tj's fingers travelled towards the other side of your hip, bracing himself as he could finally fuck you till your last breath. The call began ringing, and so does Tj's hips began thrusting in and out in an intense pace. Your body jerked against the kitchen island everytime his pelvis hits your derriere with every move of his hips.
"Tj?" The man on the other side of the line rasped with a chuckle. Your furrowed brows became more wrinkled when you heard that awful voice that reminded you of awful things. Your fingers began to loosen around the phone while Tj quickened his pace. Slowly pulling out his cock, before pushing in again and again. Feeling his lips on your neck, he gave open mouthed kisses and continued pumping in and out of you. His breath giving a pornographic hitch of his breath, emitting a breathy moan everytime he fully pulls out of you and slickly pushes in your throbbing walls with sharp pushes.
"A-Ahh," You moaned on the phone, your mouth ajar and your only focus was Tj's cock slipping in and out of you, deeper than before as he continuously fucked you from behind. You hitched a breath when you felt his hand snake around you, travelling towards your rub deprived clit and felt his fingers rubbing hard on it, erupting a very erotic moan out of you. "Fuuuck, Tj!"
"What the hell?" Sean loudly spoke from the phone, hardly believing what he was hearing. "Ugh, fuck! Yes!" Tj groaned out loud, his lust-filled eyes watching where your bodies connected, his cock disappearing inside your cunt which was utterly wet from your juices. His mouth hung open from the pleasure he was feeling. It was too good. So good. Your walls clenched around him, feeling the familiar throb forming in between your legs. Earning a very loud sensual moan from Thomas made Sean brows raise in animosity.
"Did you seriously just called to make me hear your very unattractive audio porn with some bitch?"
You ignored the whiny, petty congressman in line and concentrated how Tj was fucking you so good. His hips decided to shift in a different angle, and it was a very good angle for you because it made you feel good as the pleasure began building up a thousand times better. "Tj, right there baby! S-so so goooood," You moaned louder, Tj was hitting a special spot and it was making you cum faster than normal. He continued hitting your g-spot, never forgetting to slip a hand under you to grab at your boobs, fondling with the softness and roundness of it while his other hand was still on your clit, rubbing harsh circles. The whole kitchen was filled with loud, perceptible moans, a lot of filthy skin slapping and the slick sounds while he abuses your sex.
You knew you were close when you squeezed around his cock and so was Tj. His moans became more audible inside the apartment, hearing his breath hitching every now and then. Tj felt his balls tighten as he continued fucking you from behind, his abdominal muscles tightening as he was finally feeling the knot.
"I--I can't hold it in anymore," Tj murmured after emitting a very hot groan. "O-Oh my God," He breathed in between his moans, the air harshly coming out of his nose as he breathed deep, his thrusts becoming sloppy. "I'm coming, Y/N. I fucking hope you are too,"
"I-I'm coming, baby. Cum with me," You whispered harshly, moan after moan. Your legs were shaking, and so does Tj's hips. He tightened his jaw, feeling the orgasm coming close. "Y-Your pussy feels fucking heaven, Y/N! Fuck!"
He never stopped circling your clit, deliciously thrusting his hips against your pussy and in one pinch you've finally reached your high. You tightly squeezed around him, triggering him into shooting his load inside of you. Tj came, uttering a breathy groan when he spurted all his cum, milking your walls.
Your moan died down very slowly, feeling his warm load inside of you was to die for, even had it dripping out of you. It was worth enough to turn you crazy. You blinked, slowly opening your eyes. Trying to relieve from the very blissful feeling of being fucked by Tj Hammond. Your legs felt jello, and Tj had to support your waist. His hands going straight towards it as he gently held you in his arms.
"You fucker should know not to mess with Tj's feelings, especially when you're the fucking bastard who ruined his damn life," You hissed on the other line, breath undeniably labored and Tj was blinking down at you, his mind completely out of this world and appearing to recover from his post-coital bliss. "Sayonara, Fucker. Go fuck yourself with that audio porn," You ended the call in one push of a button. Damn it, Sean Reeves was ruining your damn night.
Tj spun you around, leaning your back against the kitchen island. His eyes all soft, sweet and dazed. He stared at your face like you're the only woman he cherishes besides his mother of course. "Was that Sean?"
You nodded, palms going straight to his face as you reached up to skim your fingers on his jaw. He gave a small, tight smile, "Why'd you call him?"
Only a shrug was given to his question, your face seeming to regret the call you made to a very well known congressman. God, you were an impulsive one. What if he had recorded everything in his phone? You even moaned Tj's name out loud for Christ's sake. That would be a great headline for some news article. 'Y/N Y/L/N have accidentally/or not leaked her audio porn with Tj Hammond via phone to Sean Reeves for the sake of revenge,' It definitely didn't sound too good with all the press involved. "I dunno, Teej. I actually wanted a video call, not a very lame audio porn. Sike."
Tj's face looked so precious when he laughed, his eyes all crinkly as he deeply chuckled, feeling his palms glide on your sides, just feeling you. "You're one kinky shit, Y/N."
"I know, baby. I know." You uttered, your sneaky hand trailing down his torso and Tj felt every inch of it because the ecstacy was still in his system and your touches immediately went straight to his cock. His eyebrow shot up when he felt your fingers travelling towards his pelvis, tracing his deep hip indents that you so love to lick on. "You've been a very...very good boy, Tj." You purred, biting your lower lip while you watch your hand travel down till you reached his semi-hard dick. Your baby boy deserves all the love in the world, and definitely a mindblowing fuck. "You still got another one in ya'? I'm still kinda horny, Babe."
"Mmmmh," He fluttered his eyes closed, moaning against his throat when he felt your dirty, sneaky fingers fondling with his ballsac, giving him gentle squeezes. "Feels good, baby?" Your fingers began to wrap around his cock once again, and his breath gave out a very shocking hitch. "I-I'm still so...so sensitive, Mistress." He softly whispered, his breath still hitching when your finger trailed the bulging vein laying under his cock.
You acted like you were thinking deeply for a moment, cocking your head to the side as your hand was still glued to his dick. "I think you deserve a gift, Love."
With that been said, his eyes quickly snapped opened as he concentrated on you, completely confused. "You're definitely going to like it, I can tell." The shine in your eyes meant you were anticipating for this exact moment, and Tj smiled, still stoned from the Ecstacy and post coital bliss. He nodded even though he had no idea what you had in mind.
Tj didn't actually thought he was gonna get fucked in the ass by you. He remembered he had told the idea that being fucked with a strap would be such a turn on, yet he didn't think you would eventually take it to mind since you just gave a small hum in response.
He didn't thought you would even buy one, a dildo strap just for him? How lucky can he be?
"I honestly thought we're gonna have vanilla sex or something, I was so ready for that to be honest," Tj pondered as he was on all fours on top of your king sized bed. He looked behind his shoulders and saw you fixing the straps around your hips. The sounds making his cock twitch, his heart fastening its pace because of the excitement.
"Vanilla sex is for wimps," You muttered, genuinely distracted by the blue silicon dildo hanging over the top of your vagina, totally unphased by the image of you having a fake dick. "Stop acting like you're not liking every minute of this, Thomas. I can see your dick getting hard and I'm not even touching you yet,"
"Is it, really? That didn't stop you from moaning hard the other night--Ugh, fuck.." Tj couldn't help but shut his mouth and bit his lips when he felt you spreading his cheeks apart. His eyes instantly closed shut when he felt you dropping a lot of lube on his muscled hole, the cold liquid giving him a satisfying shiver. He tried prying his eyes open, giving you a short glimpse and seeing you concentrated and focused on massaging his hole with your middle finger, spreading the lubricant before inserting your finger inch by inch.
"Wow, that shut you up." You muttered as your finger was slowly pumping in and out of his ass. "I was about to back out because this silicon dick is distracting me and I look hilarious with it, but seeing you submit to me is actually pretty hot, Teej."
You added another finger, stretching him up before you get to the good part. Tj couldn't help but choke in his own moans, it was so damn hot. "Feels good, baby boy?"
Tj uttered a frustrated groan, and he nodded before fisting his own hand on top of the mattress. When you realize that he was finally prepped up..well, a little bit prepped up. You grabbed the goods, adding some more lube on your strap on. "Damn it," You muttered, feeling all hot and bothered from everything that's happening. "You owe me another orgasm," Tj set his lips in a straight line, the silence from him was worrying you but you knew he was stopping himself from just moaning out loud. His brows furrowed while he waits for the pleasurable moment as he grips on the sheets.
"On second thought," You teased his entrance with the bulbous head. His cock was harder than a rock, it was standing tall and proud beneath him. "I'm riding your face instead, deal?" Tj let his mouth fall, his eyes slowly fluttering closed as he could feel you filling him up inch by inch. He let out a sigh as you go deeper and deeper inside. It felt too good.
"Do I get myself a deal?" Your hips stopped till you reached the brink, still letting him get used the feeling . Tj was breathing deep and hard, and you weren't even starting yet. The whole thing was arousing you, it was totally making you wet. Yet, tonight was about Tj, the gift was about making Tj feel good and better because he deserves it. Your Tj deserves everything in the world, and you were about to give it to him.
You lightly trailed your fingers on Tj's back, taking your sweet time as you teased, "Will you let me ride your pretty, sweet face, baby boy?" Tj choked up on his own saliva, his focus completely on the fact that he was filled and utterly loved. "I-I'll let you fuck my face, mistress..Ask me anything and I'll give you everything you want..just...ugh, Oh God, yes.." He deeply moaned, slightly trying to move his naughty hips to relieve himself and you gave his ass a light slap in which he took it better than you expected. You didn't want to hurt him, he was your precious little boy after all. He froze and tried his best not to move. "Y/N, Just fuck me already," Your baby boy groaned in the back of his throat in a frustrated manner, changing from submissive to a dominant, eager man. You couldn't help but slightly laugh from your impatient boyfriend.
"Such a good boy for me," You gave his back upper spine a light kiss before experimentally rocking your hips. This was all new to you, everything you have never experienced. Tj's breath hitched at the back of his throat when you've began to set a pace, adding more speed to your thrusts. Were you even doing everything right?
"A-Am I doing it right, Tj?" Your voice changed into the weaker side, grabbing onto his perfect bicep, never forgetting to give it a sweet caress to check how he was doing and he only quivered when you hit a spot. "Does it make you feel good?" Only Tj did was nod sharply, clawing at your wrinkled white sheets. "Y-You're doing great, Y/N! S-so great! A-Ahh, Y-Yes!" He choked up before uttering a loud moan that sounded so divine when your hips kept up a faster pace, colliding with his hips as you reached to the brink in delicious repetition.
Tj was already in heaven.
It felt more like heaven when you decided to reach his hardened cock beneath him, tightly stroking his aching cock with your fist, spreading his pre-cum all over his swollen, pinkish head while pushing in and out of him with no difficulty. The sounds coming from the both of you was heavenly, slick sounds that was making you wetter, keeping the both of you wet and never intending to stop.
You slowly pulled out till the tip before pushing back in with the same pace, it made Tj groan, making his thighs shake while you began to pick up the pace again, your breath coming out of you with huge puffs.
"I can tell your balls are beginning to tighten," You muttered when his cock twitched in your hand, quickly sneaking to grab and play his balls. Tj desperately wanted to come undone , and he was a man with a plan, he began to push his hips back to meet with yours, and every thrust from you was ten times better because it was a lot deeper, hitting that special spot inside that made his cock twitch again. "You coming now, babe?"
"C-Coming! I'm c-coming!" His voice turned a lot higher than he expected to, you nodded to yourself and grabbed onto his hips, your other hand twisting the base of his dick with your wrist and he could feel the knot coming, Tj could feel his abdomen tightening, the muscled hole even squeezing the dildo up inside of him. "Yes! yes! yes!"
With just one last push, he came undone. His lips totally ajar, breath coming out of his mouth harshly, breathing out balls of air as sweat formed all around your bodies, your faces turning a lot more reddish from all the physical activities that happened tonight. Tj spurted out his load on your sheets, staining your newly changed bed sheet.
You leaned back down to reach for his face, your hand gripping his clammy jaw, mindlessly telling him you needed a kiss after that exhausting activity. He wholly gave you his face, his soul felt like it was given another set of life. If you wanted kisses, then he'll give you more than that. After all what you did to him? you deserved more than just kisses. However, your frame couldn't even reach his face and it made you groan out a curse. "I can't fucking reach to kiss you," you muttered, sighing before slowly pulling the strap out of him.
He was quick to fall flat on your bed, entirely exhausted from your very eventful day. You were quickly cleaning everything off, putting it back to where it belonged. Your knees feeling jello and weak from the sex but you were lucky you could still stand. "You just basically laid on your cum, Thomas. Gross." You joked as you stood beside him, keeping the strap on inside your bed side table, checking if he was still alive and breathing.
Tj was sprawled naked and sweaty on the bed and gave zero fucks. Your eyebrows began to knot together, prompting your knee on his side of the bed as you worriedly check his stilled body. "Tj?"
You shrieked when he suddenly grabbed you by the hips, tackling you down on the mattress, your messy, sex hair all over your face and you couldn't help but giggle out loud despite that you were clearly worn out. "TJ!"
"It's not like you don't swallow every bit of it when you do," He chuckled, having no energy to hover above you as he used his elbow to stare at your face in delight. Tj was smiling, only smiling and you could see how his gorgeous Cerulean eyes was shining beneath the moonlight, there was finally the shine that his family wanted to see from him. The light in his eyes when he was still a little boy in the white house and you were lucky to have the privilege to see it all the time he stares at you.
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"W-what?" You stuttered, downright flushing from how he was staring at your face. Tj grabbed your face and leaned down to lock his lips with yours, even locking your hearts together and as one. You lightly kissed him back, pouring all your love for each other before stopping to take a breather.
Tj leaned his forehead with yours, his breath hitting your swollen lips. "I love you very much, it's surprising me how I learned to love you. Here I thought I was fully gay," He chuckled deeply, his voice knocking his sweaty chest. "Then you came along and molded me into becoming someone better, a much happier and contented version of myself,"
"I love you more than you do, Teej. I'm lucky to have you all to myself, call me selfish but..You're mine,"
"I'm yours, Y/N. All yours. Not any man could get me away from you," Tj whispered, a hot lopsided smile lifting his lip up which made you raise a brow. "Unless, if he's hot and has a big dick then.." He dragged, his mischievous smile turning wider when he saw how your face fall from his previous sentence.
"Choose, Teej. A big dick or this pussy?" You raised a sassy brow, gesturing down below and groaned playfully, laughter erupting inside the whole room. "That isn't fucking fair! I'm choosing both!" He whimpered and joked. "I'm kidding. I could always take up that neon blue silicon dick even though, you looked entertaining wearing that strap-on,"
"Well, You're doomed anyways." You fake a sigh, lightly tapping his cheek with your palm, giving him another sweet peck on the lips.
Tj's brows cinched together, pure confusion written in his eyes. "Why?"
"I've got blackmail, you got no other choice than to be with me forever," You slowly sat on the bed, taking a glimpse on your white vanity dresser, where a phone has been standing there all night long. "I caught everything on record," Your heart raced, completely thrilled at the fact that you were recording the whole thing in your phone. "Porn tape, check. It was part of my wish list, don't judge me Teej."
Tj uttered a quiet hum, his sneaky, naughty hand travelling towards your breasts, his fingers flicking with the nipple while he mindlessly thought out loud, completely enthralled by your boobs. "Okay, I won't." His face moved to kiss the tops of your breasts, and you couldn't help but lick your lips as you watch him start his spell on you.
"But, you gotta let me watch it first," He pressed open mouthed kisses on your breasts, his tongue slowly licking that path between your mounds and he lifted his naughty, mischievous messy head of his.
"Or maybe another video would be great?"
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WHOO! WAS IT HOT IN HERE OR WHAT? You know you love me and my imagination!
XOXO, 
TATA
148 notes · View notes
brokenjardaantech · 4 years ago
Text
captain allen appreciation week 2020 day 1 + 7: vacation + acceptance
notes:
i combined day 1 & 7 as they happen to be the theme of the same story. it's also a prequel to a fic that i haven't written a word yet.
a little bit background since i think things can be confusing:
allen's full name is Louis White Allen. his dad's french and his mom american, though he's raised in alaska. his sister, anna allen, is a commissioned officer in the air force. the siblings speaks both english and french fluently.
sara ryder replaces elijah kamski as the inventor of androids.
this fic is set in september 2038, about a month after connor was first deployed at the phillips' hostage situation.
tags: griefing, family issues, brief mentions of childhood neglect and parentification
ao3 link if that’s what you prefer
-----
To this day, Lou's heart hammers when he sees a call from the military. Last time he received one was ten years ago, and he ended up with more questions than answers, answers that he knows he and his father very likely will not get in their lifetime. Staring at his phone vibrating on the coffee table, Lou debates whether to induce his cats' wrath - one sleeping on his lap and the other he hasn't stopped petting since they finished dinner - by standing up and interrupting their naps. It's not like he's at his full mobility anyways; his cybernetics still needs about half an hour to sync with his nervous system properly and to download the newest software. Whoever the fuck is in charge of calling the family of a soldier who went AWOL in Göttingen can wait.
It seems that the universe has other plans, as the air suddenly becomes charged with static and the phone launches itself towards Lou's chest. The tip of his fingers are numb, a common occurrence after his and his sister's unexplainable outbursts, but he manages to catch the phone before it hits his chest or, heaven forbids, his cat, who is startled awake and promptly returns to sleep after her favourite bed has no intention to move.
He accepts the call. 'Allen speaking. I don't think I have family members in the military anymore.'
'I don't know how many of yours are with us,' the voice from the other end lacks the robotic quality of an android's, so it seems the military is still using humans to contact family members, 'but this concerns your mother, Commander Deborah White. You're the only next of kin we can reach, Mister Allen.'
Lou does sigh. Just as he thinks he can leave her behind after all these years... 'What about her?' Not that he feels strongly that she was gone, as she wasn't quite there for her family to begin with, but something about a Commander going missing on the flagship of a fleet always sits wrong with him; as poor of a mother Deborah White was, a woman with her service record didn't deserve to simply vanish. 'I thought she went MIA more than twenty years ago.'
'She was until a few hours ago. I wish I can break it to you more gently but... we found her. Her remains, at least.'
The beat of his heart suddenly becomes too overwhelming. The air swells with the familiar buzz of static, and it takes all of Lou's self-control to not break everything in the living room with a shattering hazard. There is also the urge to hang up, to pretend that this is just one of those weird dreams he never can remember the details of, because he doesn't need to be burdened with a closure; he wasn't close enough to her to want that, he tells himself. Knowing that she's gone is enough. However, 'How?' is what he says in the end. He closes his eyes, free hand buried in his cat's fur, trying to convince himself that he is doing this for his father.
'Your mother's bones were found in a sealed compartment in the USS Blue Ridge when we were scrapping her. She must've been sitting there for years. Her skull indicates that -'
'Thanks, but I don't think I need to know that,' Lou swallows, willing himself to not think of the implication of an intact skull. It would've been a horrible way to die, sitting in cold seawater for days, feeling her skin rot away before dying of starvation; he'd rather her snap her neck upon impact and go painlessly. 'Anything more?'
'Yes. How would you like to deal with the body?'
Something tickles Lou's chin. When he opens his eyes, he finds the third cat trying to squeeze himself onto his already-occupied lap and purring as if having sensed the human's distress and wanting to soothe him. He recalls how his mother joked that she would probably die at sea and his father's reluctant acceptance of the entire affair; Papa's resignation after he received the news, saying, 'At least she got what she wanted.'
'She spent most of her life at sea,' he replies. No need to rub salt on his father's wounds. 'Let her rest there as well.'
'Very well. If you wish to, a memorial will be held in two months' time. Families of other deceased will attend. You may find support there.'
Support my ass, Lou thinks. It's been twenty-something fucking years. Yet, for some reason, he still promises that he'll consider going before hanging up. His finger hovers over his father's contact afterwards, but remembering that it's midnight in France and that he has a month worth of leave accumulated, he opens his browser instead and starts searching for plane tickets.
----
A month later, Lou finds himself in the commune of Gâvres with a large backpack on his shoulder and missing his cats very dearly. They aren't even his cats, technically; his neighbours keep them as outdoor cats, and Lou, unable to stand the thought of them suffering out in the winter cold of Detroit, took them in, and now they spend more time at his than at their original owners'. Having dropped them off at Hank's - that man takes better care of his pet (now pets) than himself - Lou isn't worried - he doubts his neighbours will even notice that their cats are gone. Emotions are terrible things, however, and the purpose of this trip alone makes it different from all the time he has visited his father before. At least he hasn't just recovered from nearly dying from implant rejection this time.
'Louis?'
Lou turns when he hears his father's voice and the awkward weight reminds him that he hasn't taken off his backpack yet and has been standing in the living room of his father's house staring at nothing for the past few minutes. Not waiting for his son to take it off, Papa Allen crosses the room and embraces Lou, sweat and all. 'How are you?' he asks in French, and when Lou answers truthfully in the same language, 'I missed you,' somehow everything in the world goes right again. Fuck the deviant crisis, fuck the android-infested America that makes his nerves buzz every single waking moment, fuck absent mothers still managing to make a comeback years after she died. He's just Louis Allen, absolutely not a SWAT captain, not the only survivor of the Blast, not the pioneer/guinea pig of CyberLife's groundbreaking cybernetics technology.
He has to let go of his father. 'I hope it's okay. What I did with Mom.'
Papa sighs. 'How about you take off that thing first,' indicating the backpack, 'and settle down for now.'
So Lou walks up the stairs and deposits his backpack in the room designated as his, and, catching sight of the other bed in the room, his legs suddenly feel weak, and he lowers himself, trembling, onto his mattress. Smart, fearless Anna, whose brain always runs - ran - a lot faster than the rest of the world.
Who graduated top of her class and as the Valedictorian of the academy, and subsequently disappeared without a trace.
His left leg twitches. The feeling of something foreign using his body returns, and when he leans forward - with a difficulty that wasn't there before - to take off his sock, it reveals white and grey chassis. A stark reminder that he owes her his life two times over despite her being the younger sibling.
‘How come I’m still alive?’ was the first question he asked after he regained his voice. ‘Ryder threw a fucking building on me.’
‘I dug you out, Lulu,’ replied Anna. ‘Freaky glowy telekinesis finally has its use. I was hungry for hours afterwards.’
At that moment, Lou made the mistake of looking down and seeing his pure white leg. ‘What the hell happened to my leg?’
‘CyberLife’s newest tech.’ As if to demonstrate how he should use his new leg, she gave his feet a poke, and Lou nearly screamed from the sensation. He did not expect to feel anything at all, but apart from the looks, the leg felt...real. ‘Fucking building crushed half your pelvis, your entire left leg and a rib. It’s already minced when I uncovered you, so they need to rebuild everything from scratch. I asked them to add something that can help you control the telekinesis better as well, so we’ll need to test it out later. No more randomly exploding shit. And before you ask, yes, your junk’s unharmed.’
Lou’s coma-addled brain struggled to process the influx of information, and all he got was, ‘I should’ve died.’
Anna hit the break to what seemed to be the beginning of a technical jargon-filled rant. ‘Well yes,’ she gestured just like the meme, ‘but you lived.’
‘No one survives after being crushed by a building, Anna,’ he said, voice rising. Then he asked in French since English felt too raw, ‘Exactly how much tech is in me right now? And how long was I out for? Why did CyberLife choose me?’
She looked away.
‘Anna?’
‘I don’t fucking know, okay?’ she replied in the same language. ‘You were on the brink of death when I dug you out, and there Ryder was, offering to save your life for no cost. You were in a medically-induced coma for one month and was out for reconstruction for another. It took your body two weeks to get used to the cybernetics and...here you are.’
‘Ryder offered,’ Lou said slowly, ‘to save me? As in Sara Ryder?’
‘Yes.’
‘Anna, she was the one who threw the building on me!’
‘I know. One more reason to let her save you.’
‘But you did it anyway.’
‘I did.’
‘Even though you know it’ll probably come back to bite our asses.’
‘Yes.’
‘Why?’
‘You know the answer, Lulu.’
And Lou has stopped denying that he does a few years ago. Anna joined the Air Force to fly, to be closer to the sky, but he knows that it wasn’t enough; from the way she turned her eyes towards the aurora when they were young, the attention she paid towards all news related to space observation and exploration, to the talks about leaving the wasteland that is known as earth behind and finding a new home in the cosmos - Anna belongs to the abyss of space. The military was simply a stepping stone towards something greater, a greatness that she must be working towards somewhere on this god-forsaken piece of rock.
The place where Lou’s flesh meets his implants aches in anticipation of the storm that will no doubt force them to remain indoors for days. Grinding his teeth in the numbing pain, he uses his hands to put his non-functional left leg onto the bed and lies down sideways with his back towards his sister’s bed, his phone buzzing in his pocket to notify him of an unexpected software error that may take hours to fix. Switching on do-not-disturb, he shoves the offending piece of technology underneath his pillow and loses his fight against jet lag and pain.
----
Lou wakes up cold and hungry. He is covered by a blanket that wasn't there when he fell asleep, so his father must have checked on him when he realized that his son was doing more than putting down his luggage, and the dark sky outside the window almost brings him back again before it flashes.
Then the booming thunder reminds him that it isn't dusk at all.
He successfully rolls over on his other side, which means that his cybernetics are functional once more. Kicking the blanket away, he sits up and grimaces at the taste of his mouth.
He feels better after his regular morning rituals, though the lack of three furry friends harassing him and brushing against his feet is something that he'll need to get used to, and his father is cooking lunch when he reaches the kitchen.
'Morning, Louis,' Papa says as he hands the pan over to his son. 'What did they drag you through to have you sleep for so long?'
Lou is glad that he can use concentrating on not burning his food as an excuse to buy himself a minute. Should he tell his father the truth, or should he avoid talking about work just like many people do during their vacation? 'Things are getting bad in Detroit,' he decides in the end as going on a vacation at one's father's house isn't exactly normal either. 'Androids are breaking their programming and starts having their own thoughts. CyberLife's trying to cover it up, but I've dealt with enough violent deviants - that's what they're calling those androids - to know it's gonna be a problem real soon if they don't solve it now.' A pause to think of how to continue. 'I'm glad you're not in America anymore.'
'It must be exhausting,' is his father's reply, and that's all Lou needs to realize that his father has no idea what he's talking about. Then again, the man moved back to France before androids were a thing, and although they kept in frequent contact, Lou never talked much about his work; the police getting reformed means that SWAT is deployed only when peace is not the option - that means seeing people get hurt or die constantly. Androids aren't really a thing in Europe, so his father never experienced the 'androids taking over everything and making everyone lose their jobs' shit. He won't understand.
'That's why I'm here.'
They lapse into silence as Lou finishes cooking and empties the content of the pan onto two plates. Never one for formality, Papa brings them to the living room, sitting at the corner of a couch while Lou retrieves his plate and fork and curls onto the window sill. At this proximity, he can feel the raindrops hitting the glass as if he is standing in the rain.
Papa clears his throat. 'About your mother, Louis.'
Lou tears his eyes away from the raindrop he's betting on to win. He hastily shoved some eggs into his mouth to buy himself some time to mentally prepare for the conversation. 'What now?'
What he actually says isn't what Lou expected. 'I'm glad about what you did with your mother's body.'
'Her skeleton, you mean,' he replies. 'What's left of it anyways. I don't think they found the whole set.'
'Still,' Papa isn't looking at him. 'That's what she would've wanted. And by I'm glad - I'm not opposed to it.'
'That's it?' Lou turns back towards the rain. 'That wasn't your reaction when they told you that she was MIA.'
'I was young - younger - back then,' a sigh. 'It wasn't fair to you. Or to Anna. Especially to Anna. I'm sorry.'
No it wasn't, Lou wants to say, but - 'I've made peace with it a long time ago. Mom, me and Anna, Alaska; that was all you knew. I... I don't blame you for it.'
He has to close his eyes and press his forehead against the glass. He considers switching to German to further detach his emotions, but then he realizes that nearly everything has fled his mind from disuse. Why does he think spending his vacation with his father right after they discovered that his mother might have died painfully a good idea?
'That's what I thought I'd react when you called me, you know?' Papa says. 'I thought I'd break down. Then I realized that I've moved on and... that's it. Hard not to after more than twenty years.' Even with his vision gone, Lou can still feel his father's gaze on him. 'You've done that for your mother. Have you, for Anna? It's been ten years.'
'Have you, Papa?' Lou asks instead of answering even though he knows his answer. 'Can you stand the thought of your daughter gone as well?'
'After your mother?' the father feeds himself a mouthful of food and swallows. 'Kind of have to.'
'Of course you did. I raised her, not you.'
That is the last thing he says to his father before the storm goes away.
----
Emotionally exhausted, Lou goes to sleep early despite waking up not ten hours ago.
He knows he’s dreaming as soon as he opens the door and discovers his childhood living room behind it. The room is dark, so the lights must have been switched off, and even though it feels like he has smacked his hand all over the wall it’s on, he still can’t find the switch. It does bring him closer to the window, outside where a storm is going on at full force and paints everything white, and although he knows that what he is seeing isn’t real, he dreads the upcoming and necessary shovelling.
The world is suddenly lit up from behind him, followed by the voice of Neil deGrasse Tyson and the clicks of a keyboard. When Lou turns, Anna is there sitting in front of the couch, her brother's homework scattered in a semi-circle around her, and an old, bulky laptop snug between her crossed legs. It should have been a normal day in their house in Anchorage had Anna been a child but not an adult, which is the form Dream Anna is appearing in - she is younger than him by nearly eight years.
‘Where’s the light switch?’ Lou asks, looking around for good measure. ‘As much as you enjoy Cosmos, a documentary about space isn’t sufficient lighting.’
‘Relax,’ says Anna. ‘Eye problems aren’t in our genes.’ Then, waving at the papers around her, ‘Everything’s done. Your teachers didn’t suspect a thing,’ she gets younger and younger following each syllable until her age makes sense, ‘but you asked me to do it on a separate piece of paper, so I did. Feel free to copy directly if you wish.’
That is when Lou realizes that she’s playing games on the notebook, something that looks like a simplified version of Temple Run but set in space. ‘No thanks,’ he says. ‘I’d like to keep the creases on my brain.’ Then he notices that his sister didn’t really answer his question, so he asks again, ‘How am I supposed to switch on the lights?’
‘With your phone,’ is the matter-of-fact reply. ‘Don’t tell me you uninstalled the fucking app for cat pictures.’
‘For one last time, Anna, I don’t download cat pictures.’ And it hits him. ‘Wait, phone? The house isn’t automated when you’re at this age.’
‘Is it?’
Anna stands up and stalks closer to her brother, and she grows and grows and grows until they’re off the same height and she looks... older, how she should look like if she’s alive she’s still here. She is now Major Anna White Allen of the United States Air Force, dressed smartly in her dress uniform except for her cap, which she holds in her right hand. Their surroundings have also changed to that of the Phillips' penthouse terrace, harsh wind whipping around them.
'You aren't real,' Lou breathes, feeling light-headed. ‘You - you’re gone. Just like Mom.’
‘Open your eyes, then. End this early if you want to. Forget that this ever happened. I don’t mind.’
It is followed by a terrifying moment of wakefulness, the images blurring and then regaining clarity as he stays asleep. ‘And Papa wants me to let you go,’ he says with a sad chuckle.
‘Why?’
‘We found what’s left Mom. How long do we need to wait to find what’s left of you?’
‘Why are you talking like I’m dead?’
‘Cause you probably are, like Mom?’
‘I know you think we’re alike,’ an eye roll, ‘but we’re different.’
‘Say you’re not dead. Where the hell are you?’
‘Does it matter?’
A blink. They’re floating in space, Anna dressed in some form of armor, and Lou in normal clothes. He attempts to draw a breath and wakes up choking and crying, the dream completely forgotten save for the faint image of Anna falling towards earth and getting burnt to crisps.
----
A few days later, Lou finds himself walking on the beach with his father. The sky is cloudy and the wind is strong, so it is cool even though it’s September and Lou grew up in Alaska. They started throwing questions back and forth ten minutes into their walk, some of them silly and simple and give them a good laugh, but the others -
‘Answer me honestly, Louis. Do you think Anna’s dead?’
It is easy. ‘No.’
‘Where do you think she is, then?’
Lou’s face suddenly becomes too hot to bear. ‘Does it matter?’
‘If it affects you, yes.’
‘I don’t want to talk about it. She wouldn’t want us to speculate.’
‘But she’s not here, is she? Maybe you’ll feel better after you say it out loud.’
Lou sighs, oh how the turntables… ‘In space, probably.’
‘You’d think we’ll hear about that.’
‘Secret space programs exist, Papa.’
‘Not in America.’
‘I never said it’s an American program,’ Lou says as he kicks a rock away. ‘Do you know what they said when I received the first call from the Air Force? They asked me if Anna has ties with other space agencies even though she’s never been in NASA; she just talked about other countries’ space programs so much that they suspected her having ties with them.’
‘Hmm.’
‘What does that even mean?’
‘You know you won’t see her again, right?’
Lou halts his steps. Anna? Gone forever? ‘Does it matter?’
Papa sighs. ‘You’re in denial, Louis. You didn’t do this with your mother.’
How dare he - ‘Of course I didn’t, she was barely there!’ he has to put a few steps between them. ‘I raised Anna! How do you think that’s even comparable?’
‘I simply don’t want you to live in uncertainty for the rest of your life.’
‘You just don’t know your daughter,’ he counters. ‘She told me she’ll come back.’
‘You know -’
‘You don’t know shit!’
He runs. His lungs and legs are strained when he gets home, his father’s home, but he doesn't stop at that. He packs his stuff (not that there’s much to put back into his backpack), jumps into his rental car, and is back in Brest before he knows what he’s doing. His return flight is next week, so he has a lot of time to kill.
In the end, he takes a trip around the country alone, going to places he both never had time for and, if he’s been there before, misses dearly. He may have forgotten what they’ve talked about, but he remembers Anna visiting him often. The images flee his mind whenever he tries to recall them, but he doesn’t think they’re talking on earth, and he always wishes that he at least remembers some of it.
A few months later, he’ll learn that his speculations are closer to the truth than he thinks. A few months later, Louis Allen will prove his father wrong.
But he doesn’t know that yet. Therefore, after collecting the cats from Hank and unpacking his luggage, he takes all of Anna’s things and puts them into a box, telling himself that it is the first step towards admitting that maybe, it’s a big fucking maybe, he will never see his sister again.
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xxisxxisxxis · 5 years ago
Text
Gateway Drug | Part Thirty-Nine
Table of Content or Part Thirty-Eight
Read here on wattpad
Word count: 4K
Warning(s): Explicit language, Drug abuse
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PMRC DEMANDS CENSORSHIP, DEVELOPES A LIST OF THE "FILTHY 15."
1. Prince, "Darling Nikki", flagged for sex/masturbation
2. Sheena Easton, "Sugar Walls", flagged for sex
3. Judas Priest, "Eat Me Alive", flagged for Sex/Violence
4. Vanity, "Strap On Robbie Baby", flagged for sex
5. Mötley Crüe, "Bastard", flagged for violence/language
6. AC/DC, "Let Me Put My Love Into You", flagged for sex
7. Twisted Sister, "We're Not Gonna Take It", flagged for violence
8. Madonna, "Dress You Up", flagged for sex
9. W.A.S.P., "Animal (Fuck Like a Beast)", flagged for sex/language/violence
10. Def Leppard, "High 'n' Dry (Saturday Night)", flagged for drug/alcohol use
11. Mercyful Fate, "Into the Coven", flagged for occult themes
12. Black Sabbath, "Trashed", flagged for drug/alcohol use
13. Mary Jane Girls, "In My House", flagged for sex
14. Venom, "Possessed", flagged for occult themes
15. Cyndi Lauper, "She Bop", flagged for sex/masturbation
Tipper freaking Gore, the wife of the senator at the time, Al Gore, and bunch of other political housewives got their panties in a twist in 1985 and decided to demand artists either censor themselves when creating music, leaving no room for even the slightest hint at sex, drugs, alcohol, satanism, occultism, violence, language, or anything else almost every artist uses one of to express themselves in their music.
When musicians across the board practically told Tipper, the other wives, and everyone else that called themselves a member of the Parents Music Resource Center, to go fuck themselves, they decided to slap censorship stickers on records that contained any of the mentioned offenses.
Even John Denver got hit with censorship for his song "Rocky Mountain High."
It didn't shock me when my mother was photographed with Tipper after attending one of the hearings.
Mötley was invited to a hearing to defend their content and speak their opinions with a handful of others being censored, but they never batted an eye when the news first came out because they knew having an "X" or "XX" or "XXX" rating for violence, language, sex, drugs, alcohol, etc. would only make kids buy the record more. And it did.
"It's bullshit." I state, tossing the news paper article aside.
"It's politics." Fred replies taking a bite of his bagel.
"These womens' sex lives must be atrocious or else they'd be spending more time on their husbands' dicks and less time on these people's." I motion to the article with the list on it.
"Babe--"
"If these polotical lunatics spent as much energy taking care of their own damn kids, as they're spending attempting to villainize artists who're expressing themselves, they would realize that it's not Mötley Crüe's or anyone else's job to raise their children. If you're so scared of your kids trying all this stuff, have a conversation with them about it and tell them about it, honestly, instead of relying on the music they listen to, to properly teach them about it. And at the end of the day, they're gonna buy the record whether their parents want them to or not, and they're going to try all kinds of stuff, no matter who talks to them about it, if they really want to try it." I continue my rant, Fred, Doc, Nikki, Vince, Tommy and Mick all looking at me, waiting for me to be done.
"Are you done, Sister Christian?" Vince asks me and I glare at him.
"Viv, it's publicity. Who gives a fuck?" Nikki asks me. "The kids are gonna go for the nastiest rated album anyway. The more 'X's the better."
"Yeah, but the audacity of--" Tommy's teaching his hand around my shoulder and covering my mouth before I can continue and I look at him where he's beside me.
"I've got a headache. I'm hungover, Viv. I love you, but I don't need to hear a Vivian Bitch Fit right now." Tommy explains to me.
I just look at him like he's lost his mind for shutting me up, and he cautiously moves his hand away.
I give him a ten second reprieve before shouting, at the top of my lungs:
"The audacity of these people pisses me off!" I finish what I was going to say and Tommy and Nikki are both jumping out of their seats a little at the sudden shouting, covering their ears, wincing, before Nikki's looking at me, sharply.
I roll my eyes at him and he grabs roughly at my thigh under the table, uncomfortably sinking the tips of his fingers into my flesh.
Ignoring him, I take a sip of my coffee, as he glances around and stands up.
"I gotta piss." He tells us, but I know why he's going to the bathroom.
I wait for him to disappear past the "Men's Room" sign in the Denny's before I get up and follow after him.
I walk in, catching the tail end of him snorting a line, and I cross my arms, waiting outside of the stall he's in.
I hear the familiar "click" of a needle being uncapped.
"Nikki. It's 10:00 in the morning." I tell him.
"Fuck off."
"Nikki."
"Fuck off."
"Nikk--"
"Fuck off."
"Make me."
I wait for him to come out of the stall and do what I dared him to, but I just hear the sound of him sighing out in relief as opiate hits his system, drowning out whatever argument we were about to get into.
When he didn't want to hear me complain or try to talk him out of stuff, he would run to his favorite room in his mind: his heroin den.
If we were at home, he'd lock himself in the closet, with me begging him to come out.
He'd open the door for me right before passing out so he could at least say he tried.
If we were in public or at a hotel, he'd lock himself in the bathroom and do the same thing.
The sound of vomit smattering the floor has me wincing as he mumbles "fuck it" and opens the stall door, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Don't fuckin' give me that hit dog look." He tells me, moving past me to the sink, splashing some water on his face, smearing his already smeared eyeliner that makes him look like a raccoon that's been digging around in a dumpster.
"I'm not giving you any kind of look." I mumble, forcing him to look at me as I wet a paper towel and wipe his black-coated eyelids clean.
The smell of his vomit infiltrates my nostrils and I throw the paper towel away before pulling at his wrist to leave. 
Being that he's perfected his magical potion, he isn't too jittery from the coke or nodding off from the heroin.
He's just quiet.
We leave Denny's and head straight to the airport to head back home, being they wrapped up the last show of the U.S. tour last night.
Next is Europe.
Once we land in L.A., Christmas music blares through the speakers of the airport and reminds me that it's already nearing the end of December.
Apparently Vince is reading my mind because he mumbles, "apparently time flies when you're in hell."
Amen, Vince. A-fucking-men.
The second Nikki and I get into the limo to take us to our house, he's busting out a vile of blow that's nearly empty.
"Fuck, I gotta get Jason over, asap." He tells himself and I rub my lips together.
"You know, we haven't even bought a Christmas tree since we've been married." I tell him, trying to distract myself from his previous comment.
"Yeah." He says, basically blowing me off and I reach the toe of my sneaker out and nudge him on the kneecap as he gets the tip of our house key and scoops some from the bindle, snorting a bump.
"Babe." I continue to tap his kneecap until he's got his hand around my ankle, loosely, stopping me.
"What, Viv?"
"What did I just say?" I ask him, crossing my arms.
He just blinks at me, smirking a little.
"I'll gladly tell you when I finish this." He holds the bindle up.
I lean forward and take it from him, holding it hostage when he attempts to take it.
"You'll get it back when I get a Christmas tree." I tell him, raising my brows.
"Are you fucking me right now?" He asks, chuckling, not thinking I'm serious.
"No...but now that you mention it, I want that, too. Then you can get it back." I add and he smirks.
By the time we get to a department store, get my clothes back on and his pants zipped back up, grab an artificial tree, lights and ornaments, and finally get to the house, it's nearly one in the morning.
"Okay, Saint Vivian, gimme my shit back." Nikki states, carrying the boxed up tree while I carry the bags of lights and ornaments.
"Put the tree up so I can decorate it and I will." I reply.
"That wasn't apart of the deal." He argues, his tone still light.
"Well now it is." I reply.
"That's cheating."
"I made the deal. I make the rules." I shrug.
"You're making me work for something that's already mine." His free hand pulls at my waist, turning me to him and I grin mischievously as he shakes his head a little. "That's it, Sixx." He tells me before crouching enough to wrap his arm around my thighs and throw me over his shoulder.
I laugh manically, partially out of fear that he'll drop me, but also because this is the Nikki I fell in love with.
Playful, lighthearted, aggravating but meaning well, Nikki.
He manages to dig his house key out again and unlock the door before stepping in and turning on the lights in the foyer.
"Baby, put the bags down for now." He tells me and I drop them as carefully as I can while he puts the box the tree is in, down.
He's walking us to the living room, laughing when he pretends to trip and I gasp, digging my nails into him like a cat holding onto its owner to avoid a bathtub full of water.
When he flips the next light on, he stops immediately.
My mind is in shambles for a moment as I try to put together why so many people are in my house once Nikki's nearly dropping me out of shock, not even hearing them all scream out, "surprise!"
Steven and Tansy are at the forefront of people as the explosion of glitter, a mixture of neon and pastel decor, an abundance of various alcohol options, scantily clad women, a handful of Nikki's friends he hangs out with outside of Mötley Crüe, and a big ass, two-tier cake with every curse word known to man written in pristine is cursive font on the sides of it is soaked in by mine and Nikki's eyes.
Steven's wearing a beer hat, smiling widely, while Tansy looks like a sallow Barbie doll, but she's still forcing out a grin for the sake of us, and everyone's waiting for mine and Nikki's reactions.
Nikki and I exchange looks, confused as ever.
"Why is it a surprise?" I finally ask, deciding it's best if I ask instead of Nikki, because all he wanted to do was come in, shoot up, have a few lines, fuck around with me some more, and pass out.
But instead he's being forced to socialize in his own house.
His safe place has been infested.
Steven and Tansy seem horrified that we don't understand the reason for the apparent party.
"...Because it's your birthday?" Tansy reminds me.
"And Nikki's was a couple weeks ago, but he wasn't here to celebrate it." Steven adds, his smile is long gone, his eyes focused on Nikki who looks like he could kill someone right now.
"Oh, right!" I pretend that I know that it's my birthday today, and everyone seems to let out a breath of relief. "It's been a long day." I explain, stepping to the two blondes, hugging them both tightly. "Thank you so much."
While everyone else starts going on with the party, music starting to blare throughout the house on the stereo speakers, cracking open beer, whiskey, and vodka, as girls strip down to bikinis to go swimming, Nikki's still standing at the door, the look on his face is a mixture or pissed off, disappointed, and "I need another dose."
"Babe." I say gently to grab his attention, hazel eyes looking to me as a jaw tightens. "C'mon, just for a couple hours."
"I'll be right back." He tells me, shoving through people to get to our bedroom.
I brush off his attitude the second I feel hands on my shoulders, squeezing them a little and I snap around to meet Duff's chest.
"Hey, birthday girl." He greets me cooly, and I'm hugging him before I can stop myself.
Something wet falls on my hand when I pull away, and just as I'm about to look around for whatever it was, his fingers that are sticking out of leather gloves that just cover his palms, are brushing at my face.
"What's up?" He asks me, furrowing his brows a little.
What is up? Why the hell are you crying?
"I-I'm happy." Is all I can say, chuckling, wiping more tears.
He knew it was bullshit. I was happy, sure. Happy to get the fuck off the road. Happy to get a break from Nikki and Tommy harassing Vince. Happy to get away from Doc's constant pressing for more tour dates to milk as much money as possible. Happy to be able to hangout with balls of optimism and sunshine like Duff and Steven and have Slash show me his pet snakes like he'd been meaning to, and for Izzy to tell me what music I should have been listening to, and for Axl to go on and on about Tansy but then completely deny he was interested in her because he was too much of a dork to just ask her out.
"I'll be right back, alright?" I tell Duff, looking around to see Nikki's nowhere to be seen.
"Okay." He tells me, swigging from a bottle of vodka.
I thread through people who tell me "happy birthday" and I thank each of them, genuinely, before opening up the bedroom door, and shutting it behind me, stepping to our bathroom.
"Baby?" I ask, seeing Nikki standing at the mirror, teasing his hair some more. "I had no idea they would do this." I tell him.
"I had no fucking idea it was even your birthday, apparently." He grumbles. "Shows how much I care, right? Husband of the year. Something else to be hung over my head anytime we get into a fight." 
"Hey, I didn't even know it was my birthday. The guys didn't either. You've all been busy and working hard and tired. I'm not going to hold this over you, Nikki." I assure him, fixing a piece of his hair for him.
I didn't realize his pride was so hurt by the gesture Steven and Tansy made.
I found out later it was Duff who brought up the idea to Tansy, who recruited the Ken to her Barbie: Steven, to help her orchestrate it.
That was another indication to Nikki that he needed to slow down, forgetting his own wife's birthday, but he didn't listen to it a bit.
"I really don't want to do this shit, Vivian." He tells me, rubbing his eyes.
"And I do?"
"They're your friends." He sighs.
"What's mine is your's." I say as I kiss his cheek and he groans.
"You owe me." He tells me as I step out of the bathroom. "Matter of fact, I want my coke back."
"Um, I can't hear you, babe. I'm sure I will when these people leave." I tell him.
"Viv--"
"I-I think you're breaking up, I'll talk to you later." I keep going, walking to the bedroom door.
"I'll break something up when these people get the fuck outta my house!" He calls back and I shut the door behind me.
The night goes on as people play beer pong on the dining room table, dance on whatever and whoever they can, snort lines off any flat surface available, and chug whatever is in their cups, drowning pain and becoming oblivious.
I hate to break it to Nikki, but I don't want these people driving in their condition, so they'll have to stay here tonight or call cabs.
After a few hours, people are either pairing off or grouping off to go get laid, passed out, or too high to function properly and are just chilling out.
Steven's observing his work, drinking from his beer cans perched in his hat when I approach him, looking for Duff.
"Have you seen Duff?" I say over the music and he nods.
"Yeah, I think he's by the pool." He tells me.
"The pool?"
"Yep."
I furrow my brows, stepping to the French doors leading outside, seeing Duff and Tansy sitting down on the pool deck, talking
"Is he pissed?" She asks me, referring to Nikki, after I sit next to her.
"I would say go see for yourself but I don't want to toss you into the lion's den." I admit. "He hasn't come out all night."
"I'll go talk to him." She says. "If he's mean to me I'll just cry and make him feel bad like I do to Vince."
Duff and I exchange looks at her confident words before she's walking away in her neon pink bikini.
"Everyone calming down?" Duff asks in a slur, and I nod, glancing through the doors to look at the guests for a few seconds. "How does it feel to be twenty-two?" He adds, rubbing his nose and I raise my brows a little, glancing at the bottle of vodka he's been working on all night.
"It's weird." I mumble. "I was a senior in high school five years ago." The reality hits me and he raises his brows. "God, I'm old."
"You were seventeen your senior year?"
"In pre-k my teacher decided I was too smart for the class and vouched for me to be moved up to kindergarten, and it didn't take my kindergarten teacher long to convince the principle of the elementary school to let me start in the first grade since they hadn't really started in on their curriculum for the year." I explain.
"I couldn't even meet the basic requirements of alternative school." He tells me.
"You're a freaking genius, you just didn't apply yourself." I tell him and he shrugs.
"I had more important things to get done.
"I guess you did." I agree, gently scoring the bottle of alcohol away from him.
"I know you're tired of me saying this, but, Viv, you gotta get back to dancing."
"Yeah?" I ask.
"Yeah. I mean, imagine me giving up music for someone I'm in a relationship with so I can hold their hand or fucking babysit them or whatever. I mean, sure it shows I love them a lot, but it would just make who ever I was with look like a fucking bitch. And I've talked to Nikki before and he told me he didn't want you to quit dance and he wanted you to go to school." He explains. "Why didn't you?"
"I had more important things to get done." I repeat him.
"I don't know if you're selfless sometimes, or just not thinking." He says, before his face suddenly falls. "I sound like an asshole right now, I'm sorry." He apologizes and I shake my head.
"I'm not upset, I know what you mean." I assure him.
"Okay." He rubs his eyes again like a sleepy child.
"Do you need me to help you to bed?" I offer and he waves his hand at me a couple times.
"No, no, I got it." He assures me, standing up.
He nearly falls over.
"Yeah, I'm sure you do." I comment, helping him inside as he apologizes.
"I'm sorry I'm being out of hand right now, Viv, I don't get like this every night." He tells me as I open our guest bedroom and thank God nobody's in here, although it's obvious someone has been screwed to oblivion on the bed.
I just throw the blanket on the edge of the bed over the mattress and help him lay down.
"Thank you." He says as I pull his boots off and set them nice and neat on the floor at the foot of his bed.
"You're welcome." I reply, setting the garbage can beside him incase he needs it. "Goodnight."
I'm about to leave, but his hand gently grasps at my hand, stopping me.
"What is it?" I ask him.
"I'm really glad we met and we're friends, Viv." He tells me, grasping my hand in his like I'm going to walk out anyway and not listen to what he's got to say.
"I am, too, Duff." I say back, smiling a little. "Sleep tight, okay?"
"Yeah." He nods his head.
"Alright, goodnight."
I go to kiss him "goodnight" on the cheek, but my entire system and body locks up the second he misreads my intentions, and kisses me.
This sounds so counteractive to who I am now and what I stand for currently, and it was ignorant of me to think such a way back then, when so many people close to me were heavily affected, some of them even dying, by drugs and alcohol...but I use to wish I liked alcohol or drugs, or even felt drawn to them.
By '87 I'd had several miscarriages, my marriage was hanging by a thread after only being married for four years, I was having an identity crisis and my entire world was seeming to fall apart and it became routine to buy a bottle of vodka or whiskey, or pills, or blow and just stare at it--trying to convince myself to go for it--for an hour before pouring it out or flushing it.
The people around me, which by that point was mainly Duff and his band, started to pick up on this struggle I had. And although they knew I had to be in some kind of extreme pain to be considering reaching such lows, they carried an "if you don't laugh about it, you'll cry" method of pulling me out of such spells.
Anytime we would be hanging out and I'd opt to try something they were doing, they would call it the "Golden Question Game" because the "Golden Question" was always "is Vivian actually gonna do it this time?" and they wouldn't argue with me about it or try to stop me because they knew the answer would always be "no" even if I didn't think it would be.
I even made the reckless suggestion to try heroin, and got as far as Izzy getting it in the syringe for me, trying to explain to me how to shoot it, how to angle it, how to know I'd hit a vein, with Steven, Slash and Duff all waiting to see if I was that desperate for an escape.
Like everything else I would think about doing, I just sat on the floor next to Izzy and stared at the golden liquid in the syringe and thought, "who the fuck are you to get pissed and angry at Nikki and Tansy for their addiction to this shit, and how it's destroying them, and then turn around and do it yourself?"
I shot it into the air away from me, handed the empty syringe back Izzy, thanked him for letting me waste his time and dose of smack, went to the bathroom with Duff at my heels, and cried.
I never went through with any of it because I knew I would never, ever, come back from it.
I would've drank myself to death or drugged myself past the point of no return and would have ended up a statistic.
I just needed a new escape because my original high became a heroin addict, and December 23, 1985, had me realizing more about Duff than what I had noticed before: Vodka was a hell of a lot easier to be around than heroin.
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daveslutstaine · 6 years ago
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I was tagged by the following lovelies @connectingtopogo and @lonelydayinpurgatory (mmmmmm mcthankies uwu 💖)
Rules: Answer the soft q&as and tag 5 of your most recent followers and 3 of your biggest fans, fav blogs/users
1. What's the smell of your shampoo?
It's I believe Shea Butter of something like that
2. What's your aesthetic?
Oh ya know, the typical 80s metalhead. Battle vests full of patches, bullet belts, leather wrist bands with spikes on them, etc. Shelves full of records and rooms covered in posters are also pretty neat. I also like places lit up by soft purples, pinks, and blues to be very pleasing to my eyes. Rainy days in Autumn make me go MMMMMMMMMMMM yEeT too!
3. What's your favorite time of day?
The afternoon
4. What do you like most about the beach?
I'm not big fan of the beach but I like collecting washed up sea shells and checking out tide pools to see what kind of animals are in there and just watch em do their thing
5. What do you worry about constantly?
Is everything a valid answer?
6. What is a song you've cried to before?
Uhhhh besides a bunch of songs in my 3edgy5me phase, "Helden" by Apocalyptica, "Seemann" by Rammstein, "Vermillion pt 2" by Slipknot, "Snuff" by Slipknot, "Nebel" by Rammstein, and "The Sound of Silence" covered by Disturbed
7. What are some relaxing tips for your followers?
Lighting candles and just staring at the flames in the dark is nice. Playing with slime, cleaning, listening to some tunes while walking, looking at memes, practicing some songs
8. What are things that make you tear up?
Cute animals and uhhhh, yea
9. What is your favorite from each of the five senses?
Sight: Sunsets/sunrise, Ed Repka's art
Smell: gasoline, wood burning, colognes, lavender, banana, clean linen, lemon, apple cinnamon, chocolate and coffee
Touch: fluffy blankets, fluffy dogs and cats
Taste: dark chocolate, my mom's arroz con leche (rice soaked in hot milk), coffee, sopes, and chorizo
Hearing: soft/strong but low speaking voices, gravely, rough, and strong singing voices, electric guitars with and without grain, cellos playing, children's laughter, cats meows and happy dog barking
10. What is one alternate reality you'd want to live in?
One where I'm not anxiously as fuck 24/7 and where my family is happy
11. What are some troubles you face on a day to day basis?
My sister's random and violent outbursts, dealing with this one really asshole-ish, shady fucking kid I work with, worrying about my uncle's health, worrying about whether or not everything in my house is properly cleaned and disinfected for his sake
12. What is a scene in a book that's made you really sad?
The death of a squirrel in a book that I was rereading called "The Fire Within" by Chris D'Lacy
13. Say something to all your followers
Mcthankies from Mcspankies for dealing with all my bullshit from the unfunny memes/shitposts, to my rants and vague anger posting, not answering your shit on time, being cursed, being horny on main for Dave Mustaine and whoever else it is that I happen to be crying over at night, and a big thanks for thinking that my blog is worthy enough of for a follow. I truly do love yall, even if I don't talk with yall, I still see your stuff and I know when shit gets tough. I fucking love you damn it and I hope yall get out of whatever it is that's troubling you on this bitch of an Earth. 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💕💕💕💕💕💕💕
Imma say fuck it to the rules and tag these lovelies, @motleycruesixx @imfeelingreckless @hazy-lazy @judasbeets @stonee-freeee @sturmxundxdrang @toomcflyforawhiteguy @liebe-ist-ein-wildes-tier @whatsruiningmylife @m0t0rbreath @smellslikedavegrohl @everyones-idol-goro @no-its-jimmy @joeybelladonna and @polska-tankietka and @ktuludawn if they wanna 😉
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rantingpaiges-blog · 6 years ago
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Hey y’all I’m not exactly new here but this account sure is, but i only made this account specifically to rant about shit that pisses me right the fuck off. 
This blog is specifically for rants so if you don’t like rants then you don’t need to be here sweets- have a nice day :p
so anyways yeah i’m gonna start off this blog with an intro and a rant that happened not too long ago- so if you wanna keep reading go on ahead!
So its called "RantingPaiges" because well- ranting- and also pages-> paiges
ye- jokes ha ha funny
i will swear in these rants so if y’all don’t like that you may also move on yee yee- this is just how i express myself sweetly. UWU thanks-
so boom- new blog- hi, how are ya?
I wont say anyone’s names- I wont tag anyone- this is purely anon- no exposing- no witch hunt bullshit
A N O N Y M O U S
~tah dahhhhhh~
thanks for coming by! now onto the first rant-
alright so, this literally happened just a few moments ago, before making this blog. 
I have this friend, that sometimes likes to make shit up, and tell lies and try to justify their lies by adding on more bullshit to them to make themselves look “correct” when i try and tell them what they’re saying doesn’t make any fucking sense.
they brought up drawing tablets. we both like to draw, and i have a Wacom tablet named “silly” and shes just the best tiny tablet I’ve ever had and i love her. 
They brought up the tablet with “HEY DID I TELL YOU I MIGHT BE GETTING A TABLET?” cool. (also keyword here is *M I G H T* just keep that in mind ;))
 i asked right away “what brand is it?” because the brand is usually a strong saying on whether the tablet is actually a GOOD one- OR NOT!
they respond to that with “honestly i don’t know the brand”
“okay then hopefully its a good one though..” i say back.
to which they respond with, “It’s a really good tablet- i used it before, but i wear out the pen tips really fast”
okay quick question: HOW THE FUCK COULD YOU “MIGHT BE GETTING A TABLET” NOT KNOW THE BRAND NAME, BUT HAVE ALSO USED IT BEFORE YOU’VE EVEN GOTTEN IT?
OKAY DOES THAT MAKE SENSE? 
THEY D O N T HAVE THE TABLET BUT THEY HAVE USED IT BEFORE, BUT EVEN IF THEY’VE U S E D I T B E F O R E THEY DON’T KNOW THE N A M E. 
W H A T.
After fumbling around that for a solid 3 minutes like ‘what the fuck do you mean M=MC^2 8+5=10′ i just continue on with why TF their pen tips don’t last long, cause- you’re probably pressing too hard on the tablet and hurting it you dweeb.
after googling it real fast and seeing how long people say their pen tips last before they change them, I say: “if your pen tips wear out really fast you’re pressing way to hard on the tablet, sure its cool to mess around with the pressure thing with the pen, but there’s no reason to murder your pen by pushing down on the tablet hard. they’d last longer if you use light pressure"
to which they respond with: "Look I used light pressure but I draw a shit ton... Like my time I used it I fucking wore out entire tip because I just went from one project to the next "
Okay- back to the whole they’re PROBABLY GOING TO GET THE TABLET. THEY- WHAT I THOUGHT THEY SAID- D O N T H A V E I T Y E T. BUT THEY'VE BEEN USING IT-? OKAY- THEN- WHAT-THE- FUCK.
to which I ignore that fact and say, after once again searching around to make sure: "that doesn’t make any sense. if you use light pressure your pen should last longer. if they last up to like 6-15 months then its fine but if they barely last as long as 5 you’re doing something wrong."
which- maybe makes sense- right? i say 6-15 months because from what ive read around some people don’t change their for YEARS, or some people change them every 4-6 months, which could also be just preferred by the tablet user themselves- so i just ranged it around there. and depending on the use of it- which i highly doubt they use a tablet as much as they say they do because they draw on paper or their phone all the time from what i’ve seen. the PRESSURE <- they use on the pen, and/or the tablet itself is rough- okay then yeah. sure bud.
to which they respond to me with: "You do realize that my pen tips were half priced and were knock off right-? My one friend *name* told me the same thing and I gave her one of my pen tips-- to use (brand new too) and she used half of it just sketching and she was really light on her pen too"
OKAY YOU----
A) DIDN’T TELL ME THEY WERE KNOCK OFF
B) STILL HAVEN’T GOTTEN THE TABLET FROM WHAT YOU TOLD ME AT FIRST
C) SAID YOU’VE NEVER HAD A TABLET BEFORE SO WHY WOULD YOU BUY NIBS?????
THIS 👏HUMAN 👏DOES 👏NOT 👏MAKE👏 ANY 👏FUCKING👏 SENSE 👏WHAT 👏THE 👏FUCK 👏
OKAY ANYWAYS-I RESPOND WITH: "no you didn’t tell me that that explains that then. knock offs aren’t the greatest thing in the world, which is why its just better to get well known and highly rated brands. and if they’re too expensive, then holding off until you have a job would be better and save you annoyance of terrible pens. that’s what I did."
some knock offs can be good, sure, but from what they’ve said to me this alleged "knock off" isn’t good. i used to draw on my phone because i didn’t have money to spend on a tablet, so i just decided to wait until i had a job so i could save up money so I could get a computer and a tablet- which i mentioned before, is amazing and i’m so happy with her- so i could have a better experience drawing than up and getting a shitty tablet i wasn’t sure worked or didn’t know the brand. unlike this human. 🤔🤔😒
and their response was a voice recording so i’m gonna listen and copy down what they say rather than copying and pasting like i’ve been.
they say: “honest to god my tablet was a knock off, cause i had a brand picked out but the fucking name brand *blubber i don’t understand* so it was a name brand- and.... *pause* it cost 100 bucks originally and my grandparents i gave them the money and the refused to get the 100 dollar one and made me get the knock off which was 50 bucks *pause* it still works really nice. *stops to read what i just sent them* I-I CANT GET A JOB. *laughs* I’M NOT THE LEGAL AGE TO GET A JOB NOW. *laughs more*”
OKAY OKAY LISTEN. 100 DOLLARS IS FUCKING CHEAP IF YOU DON’T MIND ME SAYING. PLUS THEY HAD THE FUCKING MONEY TO GET THIS SO CALLED “NAME BRAND”-TO WHICH THEY STILL DIDN’T TELL ME THE FUCKING NAME- AND I SAID TO THEM ITS BETTER TO W A I T UNTIL YOU GET A JOB AND S A V E UP MONEY TO GET A TABLET YOU WOULD KNOW WOULD WORK BETTER THAN A KNOCK OFF WHICH YOU’VE ALREADY SAID IS SHITTY WITH THE PENS BUT IS STILL GOOD-? W H A T
ONCE AGAIN:
YOU SAID YOU M I G H T BE GETTING A TABLET, ONCE AGAIN, YET YOU BOUGHT IT- AND YOU WILL HAVE IT???? BUT YOU WONT HAVE IT BECAUSE YOU  M I G H T??? YOU HAD MONEY FOR A NAME BRAND TABLET- BUT YOU WEREN’T ALLOWED TO GET IT FOR SOME UNKNOWN REASON? SO YOU INSTEAD BOUGHT A KNOCK OFF TABLET THAT WAS HALF THE PRICE, BUT FROM WHAT I’VE BEEN TOLD BY YOU, IT WOULD’VE BEEN BETTER TO TRY CHANGE YOUR GRANDPARENTS MIND TO GET A TABLET THAT YOU’RE GOING TO BUY WITH YOUR OWN MONEY- BUT AT THE EXACT SAME TIME YOU ALREADY HAVE THE TABLET AND HAVE BEEN USING IT TO FINALLY FIGURE OUT THAT THE TIPS DON’T LAST VERY LONG- W H AT? PL EA SE H E L P M E-------
TO WHICH THEY, THEN, RESPOND WITH: “i really need to get name brand stuff just the thing is is that i’m completely broke (<- YOU JUST SAID YOU HAD MONEY) and i cant get a job” 
A) YOU HAD MONEY TO GET A SUPPOSEDLY “NAME BRAND” TABLET- YOU CLEARLY SAID IT TO ME. 
B) I DIDN’T SAY YOU ABSOLUTELY HAD TO GET A JOB AT THIS VERY SECOND AND START SAVING UP MONEY IMMEDIATELY- N0- I SAID TO WAIT TO GET A JOB (BY WAIT I MEAN WHEN YOU’RE OLDER BECAUSE YOU’VE REPEATEDLY SAID TO ME THAT YOU’RE NOT OLD ENOUGH BEFORE THIS CONVERSATION) BEFORE WASTING MONEY ON A SHIT TABLET THAT THE PENS DON’T APPARENTLY LAST VERY LONG WITH EVEN THOUGH YOU APPARENTLY USE LIGHT PRESSURE, SO YOU END UP WASTING MONEY THAT YOU SAID YOU DON’T HAVE ON NIBS TO CHANGE ALL THE TIME BECAUSE THEY DON’T LAST VERY LONG-WHICH S T I L L DOESN’T MAKE ANY SENSE-  SO WHAT THE FUCJK IS HAPPENING WHY AM I TRYING TO FIGURE THIS OUT- YOU’RE MOST LIKELY LYING AT THIS POINT REEEEEEEEEEEEE????????????
AND I STOP TALKING TO THEM RIGHT HERE CAUSE THEY’RE JUST GONNA KEEP TRYING TO JUSTIFY THAT THEIR TABLET IS STILL GOOD WHEN THE TIPS DON’T LAST- AND GO OFF WITH RANDOM UNKNOWN STORIES- AND SAY THEY HAVE THE TABLET-WHEN THEY’VE ALSO SAID THEY*KEY WORD* M I G H T BE GETTING A TABLET STILL. 
OKAY 
OKAY
IF SOME HUMAN READ THIS WHOLE THING TAHNK YOU- IF YOU CAN SOMEHOW CLEAR THIS WHOLE STUPID THING UP THEN THAT WOULD BE F A A A A N TASTIC- 
THANK YOU FOR COMING TO MY TED TALK.
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iwakurodai · 7 years ago
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I’ll Help You || Richie Tozier
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requested? Yes by my ex-wife @yourfinnwolfhard
richie x reader but like he ends up staying in Derry and reader comes home and they end up rekindling their love or some shit Fluff. she’s really successful and he isn’t.
fluffy
Age range 23-25
Warnings? Cursing, distant, rude, parents
tag list for now: @multi-parker @strang-ersclub
(Y/n) never really planned on coming back to Derry, Maine but with her little sister’s birthday coming up she had to visit. She’s coming back to Derry for the first time in years. (Y/n) remembers leaving Derry in tears when she was 18, leaving her best friends for a job she thought she would never get. Coming back brought a lot of memories she thought she’d never get back.
(Y/n) hops out of the car and bounces to the front door. Knocking loudly, smiling big, waiting for her little sister to open the door. A snap of locks rattle the door and it creaks open as the freshly sixteen year old peaks behind the wood. A wide grin stretches across the girls face and she throws the door open before wrapping (y/n) in a hug.
“(Y/n)! I missed you so fucking much!” (Y/s/n) shouts, pressing her cheek into (y/n)’s shoulder. (Y/n) hugs her back tighter before pulling back to look at her face.
“Holy shit! You’ve grown,” (y/n) exclaims as (y/s/n) drags her into the house where their parents were sat with lunch.
“You haven’t seen me in seven years,” (y/s/n) explains sitting (y/n) down and sitting next to her.
“Hi mom, dad,” (y/n) says to the very distasteful parents, her father nods back and her mother harrumphs and looks back down at her food. (Y/n) rolls her eyes and turns to (y/s/n). “How about we go out and I’ll buy you a new record.”
“Oh my gosh! Yes!” (Y/s/n) bounces in her seat, hurrying to finish her food. Their father clears his throat, annoyed at his own daughter. “Sorry, can I go daddy?” (Y/s/n) asks sweetly after wiping her mouth. (Y/f/n) grumbles before nodding.
“Be back by 7,” He grunts, (y/s/n) squeals before jumping up out of her seat and rushing to rinse her plate. “I’m watching you (y/n),” (y/f/n) glares causing (y/n) to roll her eyes and get up.
“Let’s go,” (y/n) nods towards the door to lead her sister to her car. (Y/s/n) follows her sister out the door bursting with questions as they duck into the car.
“What’s it like being a famous radio star? How did you do it? Do you get payed a lot? Is Beverly Hills really pretty?” (Y/s/n) is giddy as she watches (y/n) drive out of the driveway and into the street.
“It’s not as it’s all cut out to be. I did it with my amazing skills. I get paid 17 to 30 thousand a show. Beverly Hills is gorgeous,” (y/n) answers her gaping sister.
“What!” (Y/s/n) shouts, turning to (y/n) with shock.
“I’ll explain more when we’re in the shop, now let me show you real music. Not the crappy stuff dad makes you listen to,” (y/n) reaches to turn up the radio and lets her sister revel in the best music she had.
“Ok, (y/s/n), choose some tapes and a couple records and we can go,” (y/n) said as they walk into the record shop. “I can’t wait for dad’s face when he sees your new music collection,” (y/n) chuckles, pushing her little sister off towards the tapes as (y/n) walks towards the vinyls. She scans the names before smiling and making a beeline to the Led Zeppelin records. Flipping through she hears footsteps come closer which causes her to look up. She smiles impulsively and glances at the name tag.
Her heart stops and memories from years before flood into her head like a waterfall. She stares at his face with wide eyes and feelings she didn’t remember come rushing back. He stares back, remembering exactly who she was. “(y-y/n)?” Richie asks, his voice cracking slightly, he was shell-shocked with her appearance. The last time she was here she said she was never gonna come back.
“Yea. Hi Rich,” She says awkwardly, not really knowing how he was gonna react. She was confused as to why he was still in Derry. “What are yo-” (y/n) starts but is cut off by the force of a hug. “Oh,” She whispers before wrapping her arms around him.
“Jesus Christ, I missed you,” He mutters, pulling away to look at the girl. “You are still so beautiful,” He whispers causing the girl to blush and smile at the taller man.
“Thank you,” (y/n) whispers, opening her mouth to say something but gets cut off by a squeak and a slap of skin. She turns to see two girls, one looking very unimpressed and the other had her hand covering her mouth. “Hi,” (y/n) says nicely, smiling at the two girls. The very excited girl waves back and walks slowly to (y/n).
“Hi, we listen to your radio show all the time,” The excitable girl stammers quietly and grips the hand of her friend. (y/n) smiles and chuckles, turning to glance back at Richie for a moment. “Uh, do you guys want a picture?” (y/n) asks awkwardly, tilting her head in question. The happy girl nods rapidly and walks over to (y/n) after handing a polaroid camera to her friend.
(y/n) and the girl pose before they two girls leave. (y/n) turns around and sees Richie helping her little sister with tapes. He spins and gives a look to (y/n) before walking towards the back room. (y/n) glances at her distracted sister before following Richie into the back. Her eyes scan the small room and find Richie putting boxes on a shelf.
“Did you not leave Derry?” (y/n) asks softly, Richie glances at her before continuing to put things on shelves. (y/n) watches as he thinks over his words as he grabs a couple records.
“I didn’t, I have no money to do so. So I took this dumbass job took get money to leave but rent is a bitch,” Richie says passive aggressively as he passes (y/n) to leave the back, she follows. “I’m fine with it, it’s just this fucking town,” Richie chuckles bitterly, shaking his head. (y/n) furrows her eyebrows and tilts her head in question, crossing her arms. Richie glances at (y/n) and sighs before setting the box of records down.
“I’ve been in this shit town for twenty-four full years, I can’t leave this shit town cause I have no money. You left as soon as you could with the hope of me following you, but that idea went down the fucking drain because my asshole parents don’t wanna give me money. So I’ve been stuck in memories watching each of my friends leave me, the only person left is Mike and he’s always in the library. I live in a small ass apartment in the shittiest part of town. I have to live with a baseball bat next to me at all times or I’m risking a breakin,” Richie rants quietly to (y/n), his face getting closer and closer to her face. She stares at his face with sad eyes, he backs up slowly, looking around.
“When do you get off,” (y/n) asks in a whisper, glancing back at her sister who was balancing a couple tapes on her arm. “I wanna talk,” (y/n) continues, turning back to state at Richie. He bites the inside of his cheek, glancing at his boss who was now watching him.
“I have inventory today, how long are you staying?” Richie asks, (y/n) looks down to think. She was supposed to only stay until tomorrow but she could stay another day, even if her parents protest.
“Two days, you know my parents,” (y/n) says, tucking her hands in her pockets. Richie nods and takes a look at his watch. “Tomorrow? Quarry?” (y/n) mutters, looking up at Richie with hope in her eyes. She had a plan and she was gonna go through with it.
“Tomorrow, quarry,” Richie agrees, grabbing the box of records and walking off to set them in their correct place.
“So, who was that? An old boyfriend?” (y/n) hears (y/s/n) questions with a smirk covering her voice. (Y/n) shakes her head with a smile.
“Somewhat.”
“I want you out by the next two hours,” (y/f/n) commands as (y/n) walks into the house after swimming at the quarry. (Y/n) clenches her jaw and stares her father in the eyes.
“Why are you such a fucking dick? What did I do to you? You are my father too,” (y/n) snaps, glaring. “At least let me say goodbye,” She grumbles watching as her father rolls his eyes and makes his way into the living room. (Y/n) rolls her eyes and makes her way up the stairs to (y/s/n)’s room. She enters and sees the newly 16 year old smiling at a picture as her brand new music plays softly.
“Hey,” (y/n) says softly causing her sister to slam the picture face down to hide it. (Y/n) raises her eyebrows and walks into the room slowly. “What was that?” (Y/n) teases, (y/s/n) glances at (y/n) and picks up the picture to show her.
“His name is Georgie Denbrough,” (y/s/n) whispers, her voice barely audible over the sound of her music. (Y/n) tilts her head at the last name, it sounded familiar, and it was on the tip of her tongue. “He’s so sweet, and he’s bullied for his arm missing, but he doesn’t care. He jokes a lot but he knows his limits. He walks home home sometimes,” (y/s/n) rambles, (y/n) blanking out as she thinks of a time where she rambled like that about who she knew was working right then.
“I have to go, I’ll call you, I promise. Make sure you come to Beverly Hills when you turn 18, okay?” (Y/n) stammers, kissing her sister on the forehead and hugging her tight. “I love you,” (y/n) finalizes before bolting out of the room and straight out the house. She hops in her car and drives over the speed limit to the record shop where Richie would be sulking at the register.
(Y/n) parks haphazardly in a spot and runs into the store, causing Richie, who was falling asleep, to jump and scatter frantically. “(Y/n)? W-what’s? What’s going on?” Richie asks confused, walking around the desk as she storms up to him. (Y/n) grips his shirt and stand on her tip toes to press her lips to his. A messy kiss where their teeth clash and her nose smashes against his. His glasses that were once straightened were tilted and his hands were grasping her waist.
She pulls away slowly, as if she didn’t want it to end. She opens her eyes to see Richie staring at her with wide eyes, he was shocked and memories were surfacing just from his lips brushing against hers. “Come with me,” She mutters. Richie furrows his eyebrows, confusion laced in his expression. “I’ll help you, you can get a job at the studio I work at, maybe you host the show with me,” (y/n) whispers, Richie holds back a smile.
“I won’t have anywhere to live,” Richie whispers back, their bodies were still close. He didn’t want to leave her warmth and familiarity.
“I have a king sized bed,” (y/n) smirks as the expression of Richie’s face changes drastically. He finally let his smile loose and he kisses (y/n) softly again.
“Hey Dick! I quit!” Richie shouts, ripping the tag off his shirt and letting (y/n) lead him out of the store. He throws it into the store and hops in the car with (y/n) in the driver's seat. “Take a left up on Berkeley, you’ll find my apartment pretty close,” Richie comments as (y/n) starts to drive. The sound of a protesting Dick Marquee was heard behind the car as it drives down a street.
“You’ll like Beverly Hills, it’s just your kind of city,” (y/n) smiles at Richie as he smirks back lifting his feet up on the dash.
“Guess we’ll find out.”
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mikeshanlon · 7 years ago
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he’s all that: chapter two
fandom: it
pairing: reddie (richie tozier/eddie kaspbrak)
word count: 5k
one | on ao3
summary:
Richie smiled smugly, “You’ve got spunk Kaspbrak. I like that.”
“Why don’t you try shutting the fuck up Tozier,” Eddie retorted as the line moved forward, “So what is this, if not some ploy to get me to tutor you? Some sort of dork outreach program? Because I’m not interested.”
Or: The one where Richie Tozier has six weeks to get into a relationship and make someone fall for him. Only problem? That someone is the anxiety ridden, goody two shoes Eddie Kaspbrak, and he can’t even stand to be in the same room as Richie.
warnings: there is drug use in that bev/mike/richie are HUGE stoners. also this chapter there is mentions to maggie being an alcoholic. 
a/n: hey! decided to post two weeks in a row just to get the ball rolling (which is why i still dont have all the chapters figured out as promised, my apologies). i'll probably start the every other week thing for next update (so chapter three should be up by march 4th). i would try to do every week but im a college student who has Stuff to do and also makes gifs and im horrible at finishing my writing so, giving myself a realistic deadline that will still hopefully produce quality work. anyways, richie and eddie finally interact this chapter! it's.......................  a bit messy though. and we get to see the rest of the losers club in this one too. 
tag list:  @richietoaster, @wintersember, @howellhxlic, @ed-txzier, @clara-farl3y
After standing in the hallway arguing with Bev for ten minutes, (“I mean really Bevs, fuck!” “You said anyone.” “How do we even know he’s gay?!” “Richie, please.”) Richie resigned himself to the fact that he was going to find some way to charm Eddie. Maybe Beverly would let him borrow that spellbook she bought junior year when she had become obsessed with witchcraft and hexing the patriarchy.
Once school was finally over, Richie dropped off Mike at his farm per usual, ranting about the bet the whole ride over. The farm boy nodded along, but he knew the words ‘told you so’ sat on the tip of his tongue.  
They pulled up to his house, the engine idling so he wouldn’t have to spend time getting it to start again, “Don’t wait up for me tonight if you wanna smoke. Got lotsa research in store,” Richie said as Mike grabbed his backpack and got out of the car.
Mike raised a brow, leaning into the passenger window (which in its broken state always stayed down), “I’m surprised Rich. You never do your homework.”
“Homework shmomwork,” he tapped the end of his cigarette out the window before taking another drag, “Gotta figure out what little ol’ Edward likes. Time for some deep dark internet exploration.”
“Ah, you’re gonna stalk him. Wasting time on social media does sound much more in character,” Mike smiled.
“It’s not a waste Mikey darlin’, a shit ton of preemo dank is on the line.”
The other boy laughed and shook his head, “Godspeed Tozier.”
Richie saluted Mike as he reversed out back to the main road, Bigmouth Strikes Again blasting on the old car radio.
He weaved through the streets filled with kids walking home or trying to find something to do in this shit-hole town. Long afternoons spent at The Aladdin watching the newest releases or aggressively slamming his fingers down on his favorite game at the arcade came to mind; along with going out of his way to bother just about everyone in his path. Richie never really had many friends when he was younger, spending most of his time alone. He was grateful he crossed paths with Bev and Mike, to fate, luck, God if it existed. The universe was rarely kind to him, but finding them was the best thing that ever happened to him.
Plus, the first time he had smoked weed, but that was with them too.
Turning onto his street, Richie pulled up to the unsuspecting two-story white house. It was straight out of a handbook on the American Dream; but the closer one looked, the imperfections started to appear.
The box overflowing with bottles once filled with alcohol next to the recycling bin, which was already too full with more empty bottles. A crooked ‘Home Sweet Home’ sign by the front door. Dying grass, overgrown and conquered with the little weeds Richie used to make wishes on before blowing the seeds into the summer air (I wish for friends. I wish for better parents. I wish to be loved).
He parked the station wagon on the curb, saving the space next to his Mom’s car for his father.
Maggie’s car hadn’t been driven in months (years?), and Richie absently wondered if it would even work anymore. It was nice, a decent heater and it drove well, at least it did when she had bothered to drop him off at school as a kid. Despite her general lack of care for the wellbeing of others, Mrs. Tozier did not drink and drive. Meaning, she didn’t drive at all, as she was drunk off her ass most of the time.
Richie grabbed his books from the backseat and clambered out, fumbling to find his house key among the mess of weird keychains he bought while high.
He didn’t bother stating his presence, even as a pretense, giving up the habit long ago.
Maggie Tozier sat outside, her back facing the screen door in the kitchen. A cigarette rested from her fingertips, and Richie wasn’t sure if she was actually smoking it or just watching it burn. Of course, her other hand gripped a bottle of beer, and a wine cooler sat at her feet.
Richie scoffed and bounded up the stairs to his room, a ‘KEEP OUT’ sign and band posters adorning the door.
It was often said that one’s room reflected who they were as a person, and Richie was no exception. That is, to say, his room was an absolute fucking mess. His bed was never made, and clothes and knick knacks littered the floor (he had already tripped over some beat up sneakers as he walked in). Old mugs, comics, a lava lamp, lotion, and an ashtray Bev had made him in ceramics sat on his bedside table (read: an old wooden apple carton). The only thing that he kept clear was his record player and vinyls at the edge of the bed, which were meticulously organized.
He tossed his notebooks on his desk, alongside stolen pens, his laptop, and his bong. If his parents actually fucking talked to him he would bother to hide his shit, but it didn’t really matter.
Picking up his laptop and its charger, Richie was on his way out again. He could stay home to conduct his research, but he hated the stuffiness and how lifeless the house felt. It wasn’t really even a home, at least not his. Plus, coffee. It was a necessity, especially for the amount of bullshit he’d have to go through just for the tiny brat.
Richie drove to the Starbucks on Main and Belmont, strolling up to barista and ordering his usual: venti quadruple-shot, black. While he often gorged himself on sweets, his need for caffeine could only be sated by the purest form the coffeeshop could offer.
Per usual, the barista gave him a look, “You sure?”
“Listen, I’ve already made a shit ton of horrible decisions today. Trust me, this is not the worst of them,” Richie answered, sliding the cash across the counter
She raised her brows but said nothing else, handing him the change.
He set up shop at a table by the window in the back, away enough from the other patrons. Most of the time Richie threw caution to the wind, but he figured it would suspicious if someone saw him furiously stalking someone who looked like they hadn’t even graduated from middle school.
After retrieving his coffee, opening his MacBook, and plugging his headphones in, Richie scoured Instagram first. ‘Eddie.k’ didn’t post much, mostly some artsy photos, including ones of Bill and Stanley Uris (their other best friend). There were only one or two selfies, much to Richie’s disappointment. Eddie wasn’t actually too bad looking if you ignored his clothes, his hair, his… everything. Freckles dusted his face, concentrated around his little nose, a few on his lips. Cute lips. Cute cheeks. He had the urge to pinch them. But Jesus, that combover. What was he, a balding man in the 80’s?
Other than those pictures, Eddie hadn’t really posted to Instagram in months. He moved onto  his tagged photos. They had some more substance, although Eddie had pretty much only been tagged in pictures by Bill and Stan. It wasn’t like Richie wasn’t in the same boat of having only a few close friends, but at least he hung out with other people.
For the most part, the pictures were pretty normal, the three of them hanging out. Richie couldn’t help but snort at a picture of the three, presumably after a sleepover. They looked exhausted, hair messy, and were brushing their teeth. Pretty mundane, but Eddie had pulled a ridiculous face in the mirror. It was silly, but Richie hadn’t even thought Eddie was capable of making jokes or doing weird shit. The fucker was always uptight, serious even when they had a substitute. Unsurprisingly, Eddie did not appreciate the post.
eddie.k: literally stan delete this!!!!!!
stantheman: @eddie.k, sorry sweatie (:
Richie grinned and continued to scroll, stopping at a picture of Eddie lying down on the grass, laughing. He wore a red tracksuit, the one students wore to P.E. when the bitter chill of autumn came to Derry. His hair must’ve been a little sweaty, because it was curling up into a messy halo around his grinning face. Richie wanted to know this Eddie, see him curl up laughing, but he knew that would never happen.
He perused their profiles for a while before growing bored, downing a third of his coffee before moving on. Except Eddie didn’t seem to have a Twitter, or a Snapchat. A quick google search of his name only came up with a few images and… a Facebook profile?
Richie prayed that it was an old one Eddie had never deleted, but after the page loaded he saw that the most recent status was made last night.
“Oh my fucking god,” he whispered to himself.
Eddie’s profile picture made him look particularly child-like, a weird picture of him pointing to the camera like he was cool, even though the same hand had a clunky old watch wrapped around it. His header picture displayed the quote ‘there is bravery in being soft’.
Richie snorted, “Yeah, a soft fucking dick!”
Another patron scoffed at his fowl mouth, and he shot her a smug grin.
Eddie only had 40 friends on the site, which consisted of Bill, Stan, some of the other nerds at Derry High, and his mother and her friends. It wasn’t like someone’s Facebook friends actually mattered, especially because only middle aged mothers who posted minion memes about their alcoholism used it anymore, but it was still kinda pitiful.
His posts were generally uninteresting, stuff like ‘super nervous for the math test’, or ‘soooooooooooo bored ://///’. Otherwise, he mostly just shared pictures of cute dogs and DIY videos.
It was hard to find any useful information on Eddie, since he obviously lied a lot. Not in the way of bragging, or saying that he did things he didn’t (like Richie did). But there were comments from Mrs. Kaspbrak’s friends calling him a lady killer, or a few posts calling Carly Rae Jepsen cute (please, Run Away With Me is the one of gayest songs of all time). Eddie was closeted, and Richie knew from experience that someone could never really be themselves around others if they weren’t out.
What his profile lacked in useable information, it more than made up with blackmail material.
Take, for instance, little Eddie in possibly the gayest fucking hat imaginable.
He screeched as he saw the picture of the eleven year old, a white fedora-bucket hat hybrid sitting atop his tiny head, before breaking out into a full on wheeze. Richie was laughing so hard he couldn’t breathe, and then he thought about Eddie using his inhaler in that gay ass hat and laughed even harder.
The other customers began to stare, some concerned, and others pissed off at the disturbance.
Once he had collected himself somewhat, Richie sent a screenshot to the group chat.
the losers
bev: oh my fucking G O D
richie: I CANT FUCKIN BREATHE ELRNKKLNERG
richie: LIKE F U C K !!! KLJKLGRJKLLEJK
richie: LOOK AT HIS GAY HAT
richie: LIKE, IT’S GAYER THAN WEARING NOTHING BUT A PRIDE FLAG AND GLITTER
richie: HE LOOKS LIKE A TWINKY SKIPPER
richie: HOW IS THAT HAT MORE GAY THAN EVERY SINGLE ONE RYAN EVANS WORE IN THE ENTIRE HIGH SCHOOL MUSICAL FRANCHISE COMBINED
bev: i’m muting you
mike: me too
mike: also that hat isn’t that bad
“‘Not that bad?!’” Richie squawked, not that he’d be able to hear him.
(Really, Richie had no authority on the subject. He still donned the occasional Hawaiian shirt over his tees).
He refreshed Eddie’s profile, seeing that he had made a new status.
Eddie Kaspbrak: big night friday, nervous but excited !!!!
Richie raised his brows in intrigue, seeing that Bill and a handful of other people liked the status. What was going on Friday?
He checked to see if Bill had posted anything, if Eddie was going somewhere, chances were Bill was too.
Bill Denbrough: almost the weekend, finally ready to let loose
Seriously, it would’ve been so much easier if Bill was the guy Richie had to woo. Kid was probably fucking nervous for a party, a place where you threw caution to the wind and had a good time. Still, he made a mental note about finding out what their Friday plans were.
Richie sighed, taking another swig of his coffee, “God, what a fucking loser.”
Suddenly, his headphones were being tugged out of his ear by an angry middle-aged woman with short-layered hair and eye bags.
“Hey, what the fuck?” Richie glared, snatching back his headphones.
The woman returned the look, putting her hands on her hips, “Don’t you have respect for the other customers?!”
“Sweetheart, I don’t have respect for myself, let alone some PTA moms-- like the post-divorce haircut by the way.”
Apparently, his finger guns did not soften the blow, because the lady started to scream at him.
And, apparently, this lady was also the manager, and was pushing him out the door.
So great, Eddie and his dumb gay hat got him banned from Starbucks.
Even though he was wounded from Eddie’s betrayal, (because Richie getting kicked out was definitely not his fault-- it was Eddie’s homosexual headwear. An anthropomorphic device of chaos, that Eddie owned, so, yeah, it was Kaspbrak’s fucking fault.) Richie still skipped smoking on Thursday to spend his lunch with the tiny fuck.
Obviously, they hadn’t made plans to do so, but Richie had, and he really couldn’t delay starting the bet. There was a lot on the line.
So, after getting out of econ (turning in an unstudied for but probably aced quiz), and throwing his shit in his locker, Richie detoured to the cafeteria.
The place was a fucking mess, and it reminded Richie just why he avoided the place. It was pure chaos, loud and overwhelming, a million things to get distracted by. Freshman with their stupid rolling backpacks kept whizzing by, making Richie trip or get his feet ran over. The tables were already filled, the honor roll kids, the partiers, Gretta and her gang. Fucking cliches.
He got in line, picking up a tray and proceeding to fiddle with the buttons at the cuff of his black and white flannel; trying to tune out the buzz of conversation. It was weird, at parties he thrived on the noise and disorder, but here all it was doing was fucking with his ADHD.
Richie drummed a beat onto his tray as the line moved forward and picked the most edible looking slop from the menu. The lunch lady glowered at him as he reached for his money only to realize he had put it in the other pocket, fumbling to put the bills and coins on the counter.  
As she put the money in the register, Richie looked around the room, checking to see where Eddie was sitting. He was sat near one of the exits, carefully taking out his lunch and swinging his legs. And he was alone. Perfect.
“Kid, do you want a receipt or not?” the lunch lady snapped from across from him.
Richie blinked back into focus, “Uh, sure, sorry.”
She sighed and printed out the receipt, slamming it down on the tray, “Next!”
Grabbing his tray, Richie plucked up some plastic cutlery and made his way through the sea of students to Eddie Kaspbrak. He had to twist and lift his tray a bit, but eventually the crowds started to part a bit. A chorus of whispers started to erupt. Stupid small town.
“Is that Richie Tozier?”
“I think, but doesn’t he always get high with his stoner friends?”
“What is he doing here?”
“God, he’s so hot.”
Richie smirked, sending a wink at the girl’s praise before sitting across from Eddie. He watched for a moment as the boy continued to focus on on unpacking his utensils and napkins before clearing his throat.
Eddie’s eyes snapped up from his lunchbox, widening when he saw Richie.
“What the fuck?” It was meant to be a whisper to himself, but Eddie’s voice was louder than expected.
Richie grinned at the blushing boy, “Well, hello to you to Eds.”
“Don’t call me that,” Eddie snapped, returning to his food.
Richie waited for him to say something else, at least fucking look at him, but the little fuck kept his eyes glued to his grapes, nails aggressively ripping the fruit from their stems.
“Okay,” he started, taking a sip of his apple juice, “So, you may be wondering why I’m sitting with you—“
Eddie interrupted, annoyance apparent in every fiber of his being, “Is this gonna be quick or not?”
“I’m hoping it’s not quick, although given how hot I am it’s difficult for people to control themselves.”
A long, deep sigh came from Eddie’s (cute, soft) lips. Eddie grabbed at Richie’s hands, flipping them over so that the palms faced upwards.
“Wow, a bit forward, but I’m liking your style Kaspbrak,” Richie winked.
Eddie rolled his eyes and proceed to take out hand sanitizer from his fanny pack, squirting the floral scented product into Richie’s hands.
Honestly, what the fuck?
He must’ve sent the same message to Eddie with his face, because Eddie said, “You obviously aren’t gonna leave me the fuck alone, and if you’re gonna be in my space, you need to be clean.”
Richie raised a brow at this but rubbed the hand sanitizer into his hands anyways.
Jesus Christ, what a weird, defensive little bitch.
Eddie watched with focused eyes, and only spoke when Richie was finished.
“Continue.”
It took a moment for Richie to gain his bearings once more. This mission seemed dead on arrival, but he had to keep trying anyways.
“So, Eddie…” Richie trailed off, twirling the pasta on his plate before his eyes lit up, “Eddie Spaghetti, Eduardo, what’s up?”
Eddie scowled, “That’s not my fucking name!” he squeaked, “And ‘what’s up?’ I mean, we’ve barely even talked before. You think I’m just gonna put up with this because you’re Richie Tozier? I swear to god, if this is some fucking bullying thing...”
Around them, people began to stare and eavesdrop at the sound of Eddie yelling. Fucking perfect.
Richie blinked back at the boy across from him, now red in the face for a different reason, “Calm down, I’m just trying to get to know you.”
“Fat fucking chance.”
Okay, wow. Richie had more work cut out for him than expected. He thought of what to say next as he watched Eddie finish his grapes.
“This isn’t, like, a joke,” (it wasn’t real either), “I just wanna hang out.”
“Hang out?” Eddie’s chocolate brown eyes met Richie’s, his tone mocking.
Richie nodded, “Yeah, ya know, kick it with the homies. Make out a little if you’re down. Friend stuff.”
Eddie’s jaw clenched, “You’re unbelievable. Just fucking unbe— you know, how can you even say any of that shit? How can we be ‘homies’ if we’ve never ‘hung out’ before? And don’t want to-- I’m not-- you don’t know me!”
There was something underlying in Eddie’s voice as he snapped, wavering at the end. Richie, like most things in life, was completely and utterly fucking up.
“Well then, how about we fix that?” Richie leaned forward, “I was wondering if maybe you’d wanna—“
Abruptly, Eddie stood up, grabbing his food and walked off, making his way towards the cafeteria line where Bill and Stan were paying for their lunch.
Richie looked around at all the watching faces, some snickering and others as shocked as he was.
“...Embarrass me horribly in front of all these people.”
He took a deep breath, and shoved some spaghetti in his mouth, his frown growing larger at the disgusting taste. Richie was often considered a wild card, but this was when routine was a good thing. He should’ve just avoided this and sparked up with Bev and Mike.
Actually, he was going to do just that. There was still some left in lunch, and no reason for him to stay in the cafeteria if Eddie was giving him the cold shoulder. More like a giant fucking iceberg but still, pointless. Besides, he really needed to get high now. Eddie ruined his whole mood and pissed him the fuck off.
Richie got up and tossed out the inedible garbage before going to the usual spot, finger itching for a joint.
He used his foot to push open the door, which would’ve been cool, except with his clumsiness and horrible luck he tripped forward, narrowly avoiding falling down the steps and face planting by grabbing the railing.
As Richie caught his breath and stabilized himself, he could hear his friends laughing.
“Back so soon?” Bev smirked knowingly, taking a drag.
Richie huffed, “Ha ha. Let’s yuck it up for my misfortune,” he grabbed her joint and took a long hit, “This fucking kid, Bev. I don’t think I can do this!”
“As in, you’re morally incapable of leading him on?” Mike asked hopefully.
“Please, let’s be realistic here Mikey. No, that kid is like, the fuckin devil incarnate. Shithead is fucking crazy!” Richie paced, smoking from the joint.
Bev laughed, “What makes you say that?”
“Why don’t ya ask the whole fucking school?” Richie snapped, though the anger wasn’t directed at her, “They were watching it all go down. If that wheezy asshole ruins my reputation—“
“What reputation?” Mike interjected.
Richie rolled his eyes and flipped him off.
Another voice spoke up, “I dunno, Richie’s pretty well known. I like him well enough.”
Richie whirled around, just noticing a new face among the usual group, Ben Hanscom.
The eternal new kid, since no one ever moved to ass backwards Derry, was not someone he’d expect to be behind the art building. Maybe reciting poetry or some shit, but not blazing. Ben was sweet and genuine, albeit a little shy. He was no longer the chubby kid he once was, more stocky and muscular now. They weren’t too close, as the tawny haired boy spent more time with Mike and Bev, and if not them, the other dorks (like Eddie and his friends). But either way, dude was pretty chill. Richie just didn’t really want him there mid-meltdown.
“Haystack?! You smoke?!” he whistled, “Ho-ly shit, who woulda thought!”
Ben shook his head, “Uh, no I don’t. Mike and I just had to study for history next block.”
His deep brown eyes flitted to Beverly, who had now stolen back her joint and was playing with the key that hung from her neck. Yeah, studying was the only reason. Not Ben’s excruciatingly obvious crush on the red head.
“We would’ve just gone to the library, but Bev and I made a bet about if you’d be successful or not today,” Mike said.
Richie gasped, “Betting on my failure? Fuck you guys, Benny Boy is my new best friend.”
“I didn’t sign up for that.”
“Hey, I bet on you succeeding,” Mike put his hands up in surrender, “She’s the one who thought you’d screw it up.”
“And I was right. Pay up,” Bev smiled, holding out her palm.
Mike dropped a candy bar in it with a deep sigh. She tore open the wrapping, taking a savage bite of the chocolatey sweet.
“I think you have a gambling problem,” Mike quipped.
Bev shrugged, “Not a problem if I keep winning.”
She grinned, her teeth covered in chocolate and spit. Gross. Ben still looked enraptured. Double gross.
“Anyways, can we focus on the important bet, and the fact that this fuck is impossible! Seriously, Bev, babygirl, pick anyone else!” Richie whined, plopping his bony ass on the cement.
“First off, don’t call me ‘babygirl’,” she flicked the ash off the end of the joint at him, “Second, the deal was anyone. You either woo him or you don’t.”
Richie opened his mouth to complain again but Ben beat him to it.
“I’m sorry, but what are we talking about?”
The other three looked at each other in panic. Ben was friends with Eddie, there was no way he could find out what was going on. The whole thing would be ruined before it started.
“Nothin!” Richie squeaked, “Just uh… bet that I couldn’t ace a group project. I usually just bullshit a lot of that stuff and leave it up to the others if I can. Partner’s just a little… high strung.”
Bev groaned and Mike sighed. A horrible fucking lie. Richie was already trying to formulate a better one in his head.
Ben smiled, “That’s nice, a wholesome, supportive bet. But you really should just communicate with your partner. They might be nervous because of your history is all.”
Richie let out a sound of relief before realizing Ben’s advice could actually be helpful.
“Sure, but I already tried to talk to him and it didn’t go well,” he explained.
Bev and Mike raised their brows, catching on.
“Well, how did you talk to him?” Ben asked, “Was it an ambush or a friendly conversation?
Bev snorted, “Ambush, knowing Richie. He doesn’t do friendly conversations.”
“Maybe with you, because you’re on my ass all the time,” Richie shot back, “But uh, she’s right. Shouldn’t matter though, everyone knows that’s how Tough Guy Tozier does his business.”
Mike groaned, “Please don’t call yourself that ever again.”
“You’re just coming on too strong. You have to consider what he likes, what he wants. A good partnership comes with compromise and communication,” Ben nodded sagely.
Richie ruffled his hair, putting on his trusty British voice, “Thank you Advisor Hanscom. Your wisdom is greatly appreciated.”
Ben smiled awkwardly, his eyes going to Bev once again, “Course.”
He took the joint from Bev, inhaling the musty smoke and blowing it out his nostrils, the burning sensation familiar and welcome.
“And maybe, you should talk to him sober next time,” Mike suggested.
Richie laughed, “Don’t be ridiculous.”
By the time the final bell rang, he was still feeling defeated and unsure of his next move. Sure, he’d have to dial back his trashmouth charm, try to seem actually invested in Eddie but… that wasn’t going to happen if the brat never talked to him again. Richie had to find a way to break the tension between them, start fresh.
He sulked to his locker, pulling out his shit from the looming mess. Loose binder paper and pencils fell onto the ground, and Richie just wanted to bang his head against the wall of metal. Also, go home and smoke while playing video games but, mostly, hit his head repeatedly. Maybe he’d lose enough brain cells to forget the entire day.
After a few moments of excessive cursing, Richie grabbed what he needed and got everything that fell back into the locker. He noticed a new post it on the door just before he closed it.
Don’t give up :) <3 - mike
Richie smiled, and slammed the locker shut with a resounding clang. With a little stretch and a fix of his glasses, he strolled through the halls, making his way to the parking lot to wait for Mike.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Bill and Stan loitering around the halls as well, engaged in (an undoubtedly boring) conversation.
He remembered Bill and Eddie’s facebook status’ about exciting plans for tomorrow night and decided he should investigate.
“Billiam! Staniel!” Richie called as he approached them, “What’s up?”
The two stopped talking and looked up, Bill smiling while Stan rolled his eyes.
“H-hey, Richie,” Bill waved.  Richie noted that his stutter had gotten a lot better just over the past year. The two of them had shared a few classes when they were juniors and were pretty friendly with one another. At least compared to his relationship with Eddie and Stan, who also seemed to hate him for no reason.
Speaking of, the prim and proper boy was glaring at him, “Didn’t get enough of being a nuisance at lunch?”
Richie raised a brow, “Whatever do you mean?”
Stan scoffed, and opened his mouth to respond, but Bill put a hand on his shoulder, “N-nothing. Stan’s just… on edge. What’s up w-with you?”
“Not much, just trying to figure out what my plans are for tomorrow,” Richie shrugged, “Got any suggestions?”
“The only thing on your mind is where to party? Not surprised,” Stan quipped.
Richie shoved his hands in his pockets, biting his tongue. Snapping at Eddie was what caused his whole operation to go south, and he couldn’t mess up this second chance.
Bill ignored the tension between them, “Well, usually w-we don’t do t-t-too m-much, but it’s s-senior year. Probably going to Peter Gordon's party.”
“That kid’s an ass.”
“Coming from you, that’s rich,” Stan commented, his arms crossed.
His grinned, “Well, yeah, I am Rich.”
Stan sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Yeah, he is, but he’s also s-super wealthy,” Bill avoided another ‘rich’ pun, “Meaning he’ll h-h-ave q-q-quality shit.”
Richie beamed, “Ah, I get it. You’re Robin Hood-ing that fuck. I like your style Billy Boy.”
He clapped Bill on the shoulder, and the other boy blushed slightly, “W-well, it wasn’t j-just my idea. Eddie and Stan helped.”
“Eddie? He’s coming with you guys?”
Bill shook his head, “N-no. He was supposed to, b-b-but that art thing came up so he h-had to cancel.”
“Art thing?” Richie asked, suddenly intrigued. This was the information he wanted.
“Yeah,” Bill nodded, “It’s this show that happens every month. At Jester Theatre. He always goes.”
Stan not so subtly elbowed Bill in the ribs, hissing at him to shut up.
“W-what?!”
“Yeah, what’s got your steamed panties in a twist Uris?” Richie smirked.
Stan sent him a scowl, “You know very well Tozier. Eddie told us all about what you did at lunch. Back the fuck off.”
“S-stan, I don’t think he meant--”
“No, Bill, he did,” Stan interrupted, “I don’t know what your game is, but if you hurt him…”
Richie put his hands up in surrender, “Hey, I’m not going to hurt him. He seems pretty strong anyways. I mean no harm.”
Stan didn’t look convinced at all. Fair enough.
The air between the two was tense, but Bill broke it by clearing his throat, “So, uh, will w-we see you at the p-p-party?”
Richie shook his head ‘no’, “Probably not. I have some more sophisticated plans lined up.”
a/n: hope you liked it! next chapter is p much all richie and eddie so get excited. if you enjoyed i would love hearing your feedback
oh and this is eddie’s gay hat if you were curious
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iamvegorott · 7 years ago
Text
One Night Of Your Life
I got a request/suggestion to do a prequel-like story by an AO3 user called Dawnieangel76 of the night everything changed between Anti and Dark and thus sparked this idea. The second half should be posted within a day or so.
Summary: Before getting together, adopting Annalise and then getting married, Anti and Dark hated each other for reasons they never knew. It took one night to change everything in their lives.
The Night
This was it. He was going to do it. He was going to break through. He was going to be free.
Anti has been pushing and pushing for months to get out of Jack. He’s even been affecting his recordings and Jack had simply said it was all Robin’s doing. Jack hated lying. But how could you explain something like that to millions of people?
“We’ll give him a big ol’ smile.” Jack chuckled as he carved, trying his best to ignore the pressure building in the back of his head. Anti hummed a little to himself. Maybe he’ll put on a show. It’ll make Jack’s life a little easier to roll with it if he made it something else. He was already trying to build up something with him. Poor Jack, he thought he could just hide Anti until he went away. Not Anymore.
Anti raised a hand, Jack’s hand. The knife almost blinding to look at because of all of the lights that it was reflecting. Anti chuckled when he heard Jack pleading as the knife touched his throat.
“You’ll live...maybe,” Anti whispered inside of Jack’s head before slowly slicing the knife across the skin, feeling the blood ooze out as he went. When Jack collapsed, Anti took over.
He glitched and cursed and yelled into the camera, claiming that he was ignored and that it was all the fans’ fault. Anti was having fun with this act. This would get Jack plenty of views and he would have his own audience if he ever chose to come back. But where was the fun in that?
“Goodbye, Jack,” Anti stated before tearing himself away from the man. He stood behind a now unconscious Jack. He did it. He had his own body! Anti grabbed Jack by his hair and lifted his head up, seeing that the wound was no longer there. “You did it, you survived.” Anti chuckled before letting the head go, laughing a little when it plopped against the pumpkin. Anti looked at himself in the camera and saw the blood pooling at his neck. “I need to get cleaned up. Hope you don’t mind if I borrow some clothes.”
x~x~x
“I simply don’t believe that will work, Wilford. If-”
“‘Sup bitches!?” Anti yelled as he kicked open the glass door to the Iplier meeting room.
“What happened to your neck?” Bim asked.
“And why are you here?” Dark asked in a growl.
“I thought Jack’s body was unable to enter here, you shut him out,” Google said to Dark.
“I’m my own man now!” Anti laughed. “God it feels great to be free!”
“You killed him?” Wilford asked, sounding offended. “Without me?”
“He lived. He’s just gonna have some fucked up recording for his next video.” Anti sat down at the edge of the table, spinning around so he was facing Dark.
“We’re in the middle of a meeting, Antisepticeye.” Dark huffed, glaring daggers at Anti.
“Why you gotta keep doing that ‘Antisepticeye’ bullshit? My name’s Anti. You don’t see me walking around and calling you Darkiplier.” Anti huffed back.
“Do you really believe that I honestly give any concerns about what you think? Get out of here, right now.” Dark didn’t flinch when Anti glitched and was suddenly sitting in front of him.
“I’m a lot tougher than you think, Darky.” Anti grinned.
“Do not call me that.” Dark stood so he could tower over Anti. “I will give you one last warning, get out, or face the consequences.”
“Oh, I’m so scared of the edge-lord.” Anti shook his hands in the air. “Whatever shall I do? The VHS cu-”
“Out!” Dark’s voice doubled as he shoved Anti away, making the virus roll.
“Make me!” Anti’s own voice distorted and he launched himself at Dark, making the man fall down into his chair. The chair tipped over and both men fell over, landing with Anti straddling Dark. Anti was about to punch Dark when a loud gunshot went off and there was a hole in the wall above his head.
“Up. Now.” Wilford stated, his gun still out. Anti just glared as he got off of Dark, stepping away from the demon.
“You’re a piece of shit.” Anti spat.
“The same could be said of you.” Dark spat back as he got back up. The two glared at each other for a good while before Anti glitched away.
Anti landed in the middle of the Septiceye house, body burning with anger. He grabbed the closest thing to him which was, sadly for Chase, the game controller and he chucked it against the wall, shattering it.
“Hey, man! The hell!?” Chase shouted.
“Who does that self-centered, pompous, assoholic, fucking ass, think he is!?” Anti screamed, pacing back and forth.
“Let me guess, Dark?” Chase sighed, crossing his arms and leaning against the wall.
“I broke free, Chase! I have my own body now!” Anti announced.
“Wait you-”
“And I decided to let the Ipliers know and what does that fucking prick do? ‘We’re in the middle of a meeting, Antisepticeye’.” Anti used a mocking tone in an attempt to mimic Dark. “No one called me that and there he goes, acting like he’s better than everyone!”
“You broke free!?” Chase shouted over Anti’s ranting.
“Yes!” Anti huffed.
“You have your own body and you’re currently only focused on Dark right now?” Chase tucked his hands into his pockets and started to walk away. “You two need to fuck already.”
“I’m not going to fuck that know-it-all bitch!” Anti yelled again when Chase only hummed a response and left him. “Fucking, asshole,” Anti muttered under his breath, going back to his pacing. “Although, Dark’s not that bad looking.” Anti quickly shook his head after his chuckle. “No. He’s an ass. He’s a pain in the ass. He’s got a great ass. Fuck!” The virus plopped down on the couch, covering his face with his hands. “I hate him. I hate him and his stupid, fucking face.” Anti groaned. He lowered his hands and felt it touch something. “Marvin.” Anti sighed when he saw that it was a book on magic tricks.
“Antisepticeye.” Hearing his name brought Anti back to his rage. Anti took the book and threw it towards Dark, sad to see that the demon easily caught it and glanced at the cover.
“Marvin?” Dark asked with a raised brow.
“What that fuck are you doing here!?” Anti snapped, getting to his feet and ready to attack.
“I can here to discuss what happened today,” Dark stated, standing with his arms held behind his back.
“I wanted to rip your face off and I still do.” Anti threatened, taking several steps towards Dark.
“Not that. Given the fact that you’d be unable to.” Dark added with a smug smirk. “I wish to discuss that you detached yourself from Jack.” He said before Anti could start yelling.
“Yeah. I did. What’s it to you?” Anti huffed.
“Host wishes to talk with you more thoroughly about that and since I’m the leader, it was my duty to come over and request your presence at the Iplier house,” Dark said, holding the magic book out.
“Yeah, how about you fuck off?” Anti snatched the book back and started walking away. He stopped and growled when Dark appeared in front of him in a puff of black smoke.
“Perhaps I didn’t make myself clear.” Dark grabbed Anti’s wrist. “You are coming with me whether you want to or not.” Anti yanked his arm back and shoved Dark away.
“Marvin! Come get your fucking book!” Anti shouted. Dark took Anti by the shoulder and turned him around.
“Would you quit acting like a child!?” Dark snapped.
“Would you quit acting like a dick!?” Anti snapped back.
“Aren’t you just the most creative with your insults!?” Dark huffed.
“Fuck off!” Anti shoved Dark’s chest.
“You!” Dark shoved back.
“I thought you had to be creative with your insults!?” Anti stepped towards Dark.
“Sometimes I have to lower my intelligence to match your level!” Dark took a step as well.
“No one can reach your level ‘cause you’re too far up your own ass!” Anti took another step.
“Fuck you!” Dark and Anti were only inches away from each other.
“Fuck you!” The moment Anti got those words out, both men grabbed at each other. Anti gripped at Dark’s hair and Dark dug his hands into Anti’s hips while they slammed their lips together.
“Sorry, I was tied up, is my book…” Marvin held out the word when he saw the scene in the living room. The word became louder when Dark’s hands slipped under Anti’s shirt. Marvin quickly ran back into his room, still holding out the word.
“Alright, if that’s how it is.” Anti jumped up, wrapping his legs around Dark’s waist and grinned when the demon caught him by the thighs. “My bedroom is right behind you,” Anti whispered into Dark’s ear.
“Good.” Dark growled with a smirk and carried Anti into the room, shutting the door behind him. Anti let out a low laugh when Dark tossed him into his bed. The virus slipped off his shirt before crawling along the bed, seeing that Dark had already removed his jacket and was unbuttoning his shirt. Dark had one arm out of the sleeve when he paused and looked at Anti, who was turning the volume up on the radio.
“Can’t have the others hear,” Anti said, making his way so he was kneeling on the bed in front of Dark. “They don’t like hearing my name being screamed.”
“Well then.” Dark put a hand on Anti’s chest and pushed him over. “Let’s give them something different to listen to.” Anti let out a laugh as he watched Dark made his way on top of him, settling between his legs.
“You come around when you find me faceless.” Dark rolled his eyes when Anti sang along with the song. “Fuck me like you hate me!” Dark let out a soft groan when Anti rolled his hips up. Dark quickly retaliated and started gnawing at Anti’s neck. “Dig it up and whore me out-ah!” Anti was unable to sing anymore after that line, his voice breaking out into moans and Dark worked him over. Beginning a night that would change the rest of their lives.
Tag List: @readeatfightlove13 @kenzie-110101 @kaner-va @theallpowerfulone @pagan-smol-mom @undedicated-humanoid
(I’m just assuming you want to be tagged in this since you’re either tagged in the current story or said they wanted this as well.)
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calzonekestis · 7 years ago
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@agent13: Jackie hasn’t been active in quite a while, but she’s always been kind to me and her blog has has A+ opinions and content. 
@ar-se-ne: IDEK how long I’ve been following Cristian, but he’s a really nice guy with whom I have similar interests. He’s also someone that I’ve kind of of been inspired by in some ways. I don’t want to get too personal information, but it involves introspection and self improvement and yeah. I’m proud of him. He should be proud of himself.
@chujo-hime: I remember like circa 2012-2013 I had a ~moment~ because the webmaster of FYBN followed me. Chujo always has quality content, and is someone I respect for being very genuine and respectful. If something’s drawn her ire or made her bitter, she has a reason for it, and can write a solid meta on why it’s bullshit. At the same time, she’s someone who I’ve looked to when I consider how to handle my own fandom disagreements. It’s not worth arguing with people on the internet, it’s never fun. So long as people enjoy what they enjoy? Stay in their lane and let others do the same? We can all get along~~~
@cimikat: Katie is another person who I don’t even remember following. I can’t really remember my tumblr experience before her, though? I can say without any hyperbole though that she’s probably the nicest person I’ve ever encountered on this website? Literally, I can’t think of a single time I’ve seen her be salty. Upset and disappointed, sure, but she doesn’t wallow in negativity the way some people do and have in the past. If she enjoys something, she’s enthusiastic about it. If she no longer enjoys it? You won’t see her b*tch about it. She’s just very upbeat.
@dazzledfirestar: Daz shares my love of certain villains (Sin and Crossbones) while fully recognizing they’re deplorable human beings. That’s just one of the more superficial reasons I respect her. She’s another person who’s also genuine, and whom by following I feel like I’ve actually learned a lot? And I actually like to learn. Ignorance isn’t always mean spirited, and in the past I’ll admit I’ve been an ignorant white boy. Not that I was prejudice, there was just a lot I was either blind to or unaware of.  I’ve learned a lot about Romani culture by following Daz. A lot of history, a lot about the struggles and persecution they still face to this day. I also learned lot about the LGBT community; which honestly was a big help when I was trying to figure out/accept my bisexuality.
@diaryofawriter: What do I even say about you? believe we met because we both RP’d in the same fandoms and enjoyed the same content. Comics, OUAT, Harry Potter, and Star Wars. She’s both listened to me flail or rant countless times, either feigning or expressing genuine interest… for that I’m truly appreciative. She’s also helped me when it comes to letting go of things that are no longer fun or enjoyable for me (OUAT) and focus on the things that do bring me joy. A role model in that sense. >.>
@diisnerd: Leah. Leah was someone I met though a mutual friend, and while they’re closer than I am with her… I let me just say I have so much fucking respect for Leah. She’s just a good, loyal, protective, and caring friend. We have a lot of the same interests, too. We don’t talk all that often about them, but when we do it’s always an enjoyable conversation.
@dreamimpcssiblethings: Kath. Jesus. You know how much you mean to me, I should hope. You’re one of my best friends. It’s not even that we like a lot of the same things (we do) but you’re just very hard not to like? You’re super intelligent, super passionate. Be it about fandom things, classic literature, or just life. If one good thing came out of the rise and fall of my OUAT fandom, it was meeting you. All the salt is worth it for knowing you~
@ilikethequiet: Ally was one of the first people I met in the OUAT fandom, via a mutual friend/aquiantence. She’s a wizard when it comes to making edits and graphics. She’s someone with whom I’ve been salty on many an occasion, and I lured her into the iZombie fandom with me when our favorite actors transitioned over to that show. She’s just a delight. She also somehow made an AU graphic for a trashy ~problematic~ hateship look classy? Real friends hunt down topless screencaps so they can make you smutty collages for your birthday.
@jjoelswatch: Sarah is one of the first people I can remember following on tumblr. She’s another person where I wouldn’t recognize my dash without her. I’m starting to sound like a broken record, but I really respect her. She’s just a good person, very down to Earth and very witty. We don’t talk that much, but it’s always very pleasant when we do? Sarah was the first one to reach out and respond when I came out as bi. I’m still not out to my family. When I posted that little confession, I didn’t know what to expect. I simultaneously cared and didn’t care how people responded. It was weird, because it was something I had tried to deny and rationalize for so long. It’s something that no one should even care about, but Sarah empathized and realized it was kind of a big deal for me? Her reassurance that I wasn’t alone, even in such a short and concise message meant a lot. She’s one of my favorite mutals tbh.
@kennyhoemega: Bethany is a Goth Goddess. I’m not just saying that because she demanded the best compliment. On a superficial level, she’s just really pretty?? Now that’s out of the way, let me tell you legitimate reasons why she’s one of my favorite people to follow. She’s got great taste in music, she loves Star Wars, dabbles in Marvel and Harry Potter. You see a theme here with people I follow. She just also tends to reblog really neat things unrelated to those? I’ve gotten into astrology because of her. It’s mostly her fault that I’ve started watching wrestling again, bc there’s nothing good on TV and her passion is contagious and the gifs she reblogs are wild. She also has the best tags out of anyone I follow, bar none. I don’t even know when I first followed her either, around 2012 or so, but I know that it was absolutely 100% Sarah’s fault. Thank you, Sarah. TBH the first time I remember interacting with Bethany was when I added a gif and sarcastic comment to one of her salty posts about people trying to woobify Brock Rumlow. The next day, I realized this was likely not the best way to make a first impression? Fortunately she assured me that she got it, and that we were cool. Which is a relief, because as I’ve told her (and IDK if she believes me) she’s probably one of the coolest people I follow? It’s come to light that neither of us are big talkers, so we don’t actually talk that much… but she’s really rad. IDK when it started but she’s consistently been in my tumblr crushes for ages. Lots of mutual reblogging, again, lots of respect. She’s witty and intelligent. That’s not butt-kissin’, I’ve seen her post about certain tests and looked them up out of curiosity and wow. Yeah. Bethany also has the longest compliment, so that should make her happy. There was something about my needing a nuclear bunker if she wasn’t on this list. She deserves it though, she’s another one of my faves.
@kittenspawn: Nichole is my unofficial big sister. I say that as someone who actually has a big sister. She messaged me in 2012 with questions about Bucky and Natasha, and from that point on she was screwed. She got me into Hellboy in turn, but I like to think I’ve thoroughly corrupted her and caused her to spend far too much money on certain things. Nichole is someone who I can go weeks without talking to, and yet we can fall right back into conversation as if we talked the night before. She’s been a terrible enabler over the years, but she’s also been there for me during some difficult times and when I’ve done very stupid and questionable things. I know she’ll say I’ve been there for her as well, but the scales are seriously tipped here. When I need advice, or when I need to talk to someone about something serious… she’s the person I go to. I can always count on her, and she’s pretty much family at this point.
@ohmygil: Gil. I think I found you through Davis? You’re just a very sensible person, and very rational about a lot of things. It’s refreshing to see that on the internet these days. You’re someone who I don’t think I’ve ever had a actual ‘discussion’ with, but I’m including you here because I really enjoy your presence on my dash. I stopped reading DC regularly with the New 52, and pretty much all my DC intake these days is absorbed through your blog. You also get points for liking Superman. Some people think he’s too powerful, or a big boy scout, and while I’ve never regularly collected his titles I am a fan.
@prof-anity: …You know, I was tempted to leave you off this list just to be a dick. Yours would be the longest entry, so I’m keeping it short because what is there to even say? How much needs to be said? Seven years ago you met a bitter teenage douchebag on a message board. You made the mistake of accepting his friendship when he reached out to you. You’ve stuck with me through highs and lows, man. It’s one of those relationships again, where we may not talk every day. We may not be up to date on the details and goings on in each other’s lives… but you said it yourself. Our friendship has been one of the best constants in the past seven years. A third of your life, btw. Isn’t that depressing? You are, truly, the best friend I have ever had. One day I’m going to meet you, hug you, and then insult you to your face. You’re truly a brother to me. I love you.
@readytocomply: Stef! Stef is a delight. Always pleasant, always fun. She’s also super creative? She makes great edits, great cosplays, and is just pretty damn great over all. Stef is another person who I try to model myself after when it comes to shipping things. Re: Multi-Shipping. Stef ships Steve and Bucky. I do not. Stef also ships Bucky and Natasha. Stef respects canon and appreciates Sharon Carter. All this may sound inane but I’m glad I didn’t meet Stef until I did, because 2013 Tim might have been a little asshole re his ships and missed out befriending a great person because of his own stubborness… that could cross into douchebaggery. Stef has quality content on her blog at all times. Sebastian Stan. Marvel. Star Wars. Mark Hamill.. Harry Potter. Tron. Just general film. Chicken nuggets. Stef is a quality person with a quality blog.
@rocktheholygrail: Dana is someone I met through the iZombie fandom, and she is another wizard. A gif wizard, who has too often indulged my requests or suggestions. She’s another person whose enthusiasm is contagious. I was able to convince her to watch the entirety of Prison Break (save the revival) in less than a month before it was taken off Netflix. I don’t think I ever apologized for that. Dana also is trash tho, bc like me, her favorite iZombie character is the trashiest. I say that tongue in cheek, at least the first part. It’s really been great though to have someone who recognize a character as both human and horrible, and who is capable of watching and enjoying them despite their being problematic. If this was another fandom, I’d expect to be judged or ostracized, but instead I’m enabled once again.
@swanmagic: Gia is another person who doesn’t post on tumblr much (at least her personal) these days, but I’m including her because she’s been one of my favorite RP partners for years and we still talk from time to time on twitter. She’s just a great writer, great person, great friend. She’s another person who has excellent (and varied) musical taste.
@thealbooty: I met Alberto through Davis. It’s another thing where I don’t remember the circumstances, there was just one day where suddenly Alberto was in my life. Alberto is just a good guy… and I just mean good. He’s pure. If Davis is Spongebob, I’m Squidward and Alberto is Patrick. Only not as dumb. We don’t talk as much these days which makes me sad, but I love him too. Back in the day the three of us used to have group Skype chats and watch movies together. There was one day when Davis couldn’t make it or wasn’t online, and he and I just watched Hellboy and chatted for a few hours. That’s when Alberto went from being a friend of a friend to my friend. I’m glad he’s my friend.
@thejazzdalek: Max is another person, like Gil, who I’ve never really had a discussion with? He’s followed me for ages though, both on tumblr and on twitter and I appreciate that. I don’t really know him that well after all this time, embarrassingly. He seems like a nice guy, though. Big into Doctor Who, OUAT, DC, Marvel, just sci-fi and fantasy in general.
@timelessmulder: Emily-Alice is someone who I’ve been mutuals with since like 2012 I think. I don’t even know if we’re in the same fandoms anymore, but we keep following each other regardless. Over the years we’ve discussed everything from OUAT to DC, and these days when we talk it’s mostly to pick apart The Flash. She’s someone who has been with me for ages though, and has seen things.
@uhohjonsnow: So Betty is one of the first friends I actually made on tumblr when I engaged in fandom? I was an obnoxious teenage white boy who thought he was straight and acted like it, and she tolerated me anyway. Again, she’s someone who was witness to a lot of nonsense. We really were dicks to each other, lmao. I adore her though, bc she really is sweet and laid back. We went for years without talking,not due to any falling out, but we just drifted apart. She actually took a year off tumblr and recently returned, and we reconnected. She also accidentally deleted her blog and started fresh, so um, go follow her!
@uminoko: We’ve been mutuals for like years, and she’s just a nice person? Again, that’s a pathetic compliment, but it is true. She’s also another individual who I feel I’ve learned from by following? Part of that has to due with her being a former civil rights lawyer, but beyond that she’s just yet another smarty pants who I don’t talk to that much. She also  messaged me privately when I came out, and made me laugh when I needed it. Also, she’s an actual Russian who is a fan of Black Widow and Winter Soldier.
@uncleclustersthirdbrain: Donnie. This might be a little weird, because Donnie and I only reconnected like two weeks ago after three years of not really talking to each other? Again, there’s no bad blood, and he deserves to be on here. I’ve actually known him for five years, we met through his girlfriend Morgan. Donnie’s another person who has seen things, re seen me at my worst. Most obnoxious, outspoken, salty, dickish… and so on. I’ve always sort of looked up to him, though? Back when 17 going on 18 year old Tim met him, there was a sort of ‘notice me sempai’ thing going on. He’s yet another person who is too cool for me. In spite of toolish tendencies, there were times when Donnie reached out to make sure I was okay when I was being dramatic and having anxiety attacks over damn comic books. It sounds ridiculous, and it was, but at the time comics were my escape and how I dealt with a lot of tough shit I was going through. I was invested. Heavily invested, to an unhealthy degree. He’s just a good person who cares about his friends, and people in general. He’s also a fucking brilliant writer, who just recently put out his first comic. So I’m going to use this as another excuse to pimp it for him. Not because he’s my friend, but because I’m a selfish bastard who wants to read more and wants you to give him money so he can make more. He makes no personal profit from it, all the money goes towards paying his artists and the production. I’ve pretty much walked away from buying monthly comics, but as I’ve told Donnie, this is one I would pull. The first issue of And The Hare had some of the best dialogue I’ve read in a comic in easily the last year. At least.
@xeleyan-tequila: I met Chelsea through the OUAT fandom, and like me she gave up on the show a long time ago. She’s another person I don’t really talk to that much these days, but she’s a lovely person with a lovely blog who posts a little bit of everything. There are personal details to our relationship I won’t get into bc it’s no one’s business, and though we’re still friendly we sort of fell out of touch. I enjoy following her though, and she’s a wonderful human being.
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