#i know that green haired goofball better than i know myself after four years of writing

[undertheknightwing]

I'm gonna miss Gar so much how do I cope with this dammit

[celestica-1988]

I’ll Be There

TheDirt!NikkiSixxxFemaleReader

It was a cold morning in New York, but you didn’t feel it.

Wrapped in your blankets you were stretching your arms, thanking God for the lucky job you had. You were one of the roadies of the Mötley Crüe and you were happy to sleep in the same hotel of them, the room was really comfortable.

After weeks spent sleeping in bunks everything was better than it, cause they were so small that sometimes you felt like you were in a lack of air to breathe.

The band was awesome but problematic.

Mick was always bitter and drunk because he had chronical back pain, Vince was the one sober and he seemed sad and then there were the Terror Twins.

Tommy was loud, a goofball of energy and then there was Nikki and your heart skipped a beat. Before starting the job you swore to yourself you wouldn’t fall in love with a band member. That was before you saw Nikki’s green eyes. They were so full of pain and confusion, rarely happy, rarely sober.

You knew he was in heroin, but you couldn’t image how much.

And so, as clique as it sounded you felt for the bassist and it wasn’t a good idea at all, you spent many nights crying in silence over it. It sucked watching the person you loved destroying himself with his own hands, sadder if you considered than none of his band mates were doing something about it because they were too busy with their own problems.

You would like to help him, but you didn’t know how, after all you were just a roadie, not a friend, just a random person.

It was discouraging for you, you owned so much to that band.

If it wasn’t for that job you would probably be homeless, so you felt like you wanted to help as much as possible.

Sighing you got up and had a shower, the situation wasn’t going to change no matter how much you thought about it. Probably the right chance would come when you stopped obsessing about it.

After a good shower you realized it was late in the morning and the breakfast time was over in the hotel, you hoped you could at least had a coffee at the bar. You couldn’t start your day without coffee and the band often teased you and made fun of you for this, but you didn’t care. Your morning coffee was more important of any stupid comment.

You went down in the hall, you asked for a coffee to the bar and you got it, you were sipping it when you saw Doc walked through the hall with a woman in high boots. They chatted for a while, then Nikki emerged from an elevator and he froze when he saw them. The woman hugged him crying, after a while he hugged her too. You had no idea what was happening but you sensed Nikki’s awkwardness from there. Whoever was that woman to him, she was someone he was not exactly happy to see.

Suddenly he released the woman from his arms and he started to scream and kick random things. Doc talked to him, but Nikki snapped at him and went away.

You paid the coffee and ran after Nikki, who left the hotel.

Sometimes Doc asked you to take care of him, but this time you were following him on your own free will, worried about what happened. The bassist was upset, something must had happened between him and the woman and whatever it was it hurt him.

You made your best to stay behind him, but people came in your way, you cursed New York and how crowded it was.

You knew Nikki enough to know that he would look for two things in that state: drugs or alcohol.

If you were lucky you would find him in some bar, in the worst scenario he would find some pusher and had some heroin and you dreaded this.

You didn’t want to see him laying on a sidewalks with a syringe in the arm, you didn’t know if you can stand that view. You were brave, but there were limits at what your brain could process.

You kept following him, even though he was more and more far away from you, praying to find him drunk instead of drugged.

In the end he disappeared into the crowd, you stopped for like five seconds then you were pushed by the people who were in a hurry for something.

You looked around, you saw the Christmas trees and the lights, most of this bunch of people were looking for presents. You lost the only one person that matters to you thanks to them.

You clenched your fists and released a frustrated noise.

How could you find him again?

……………………………………………….

One hour later you found him in a bar not too far away from the hotel.

He was drinking Jack Daniels and he seemed already drunk, you were relieved that at least he didn’t shoot heroin in his veins.

You sat at his table, he lifted the head from the glass.

“Hey, Y/N. Did Doc send you to look for me?” He slurred.

“No, I came here because I was worried for you. Doc didn’t know anything.”

“Better for him, he’s out. He’s another bastard who just wants to exploit my music.” “Why do you say that?

What happened?” “I don’t really wanna talk about my private shit in a crowded bar where it could be hidden a fucking journalist.”

“Fine, let’s go back to the hotel.” “In my room there would be that bitch still.”

“Then come in mine. No bitches, no journalists.

It’s not first class like yours, but…”

“Why?”

“Why what?” “Why are you doing that, Y/N?”

“Because I care about you, I’m worried about you and I wanna help if it’s possible.” He gave you a suspicious look.

“I don’t wanna exploit your music, how could I even do that?

I don’t play any instrument and I’m just a roadie. I’m nothing for the Elektra Records.”

“Ok, let’s go.

I was tired to stay there anyway.”

He got up and stumbled, he was unsure on his legs so you passed an arm around his waist, for the firsts five seconds he seemed about to take it away, then he just gave up.

“Fuck.”

He said under breath.

“I’m sorry, but you don’t seem able to walk alone.”

“Yea.” He paid the alcohol and then you left the bar.

Outside it was darker than you thought, a lot of people starred at you and Nikki gave a middle finger to everyone.

“Stop it or some goddamned journalist will come.”

“I’m not a monkey in a zoo.” “For those people you are just a drunk person, there’s no reasons to react like this.

It will just draw attention on us.”

“You are smart, how come you are babysitting us?” “Money. I haven’t got enough of them for any college and to be honest I like this work.”

He laughed.

“I can’t believe there’s someone who likes babysitting four grown ass men.”

You would like to tell him that being a roadie was more than take care of the band, that every concert who was successful was a personal satisfaction because behind it there were also your work.

You had the feeling that Nikki wouldn’t understand and just plainly accused you to exploit his talent. Why was he so complicated?

It wasn’t simple deal with Tommy, Mick and Vince, but with Nikki it was like playing Russian roulette every time you talked to him. Drugs just made it worst his natural tendency to mood swings.

Slowly you reached the hotel, Doc shot at you a grateful glare and kept drinking, he was a tired man now.

You were tired too, but you have to be strong for Nikki now, even though it wasn’t your job.

You took the elevator and you started to rummage in your pockets to find the key, after a few tries you fund them.

The elevator’s door opened and you and Nikki staggered till your room.

You entered it and he left himself drop on the bed.

“Man, I’m fucking tired.” You sat on a chair and looked at him.

“What happened, Nikki? Why do you start to kick everything?”

“It was her fault, she should haven’t be here.”

“Who? The woman in the hall?

Who is her?” Nikki looked at you with piercing eyes.

“She’s Deana, my mother.” You widened your eyes in shock, Nikki never talked about his parents so you thought he was orphan.

“Your mother? I thought you were an orphan.”

He laughed bitterly.

“I wish I was. My parents are still alive. My father left my mother when I was two years old, I didn’t even remember his face. Since then, I guess, my mother brought home abusive men who last just two weeks and fucked her and beat me.”

“I’m sorry, Nikki.” He didn’t even listen to you.

“When I was thirteen I made her arrested by the cops, I cut myself with a knife and told them she was her fault, that she hurt me. I also told her to never call me again and she did it for a while.

I lived the rest of my teenager age in a foster home, once I was eighteen I left and called my father. I was looking for a ghost and the ghost said he didn’t wanna have nothing to do with me.

I changed my name into Nikki Sixx and so I thought I was free from my past, but…” Tears started to fall from his eyes.  

He was in pain, all his demons were dancing in that room, you could hear them laugh at Nikki.

You wanted them to go away, you wanted to make him feel better.

“When the band became famous she found out that Nikki Sixx was his son.

Since then Deana call me every once in a while, I could handle it. But things got worse when “Home Sweet Home” came out. She called me everyday.

Every fucking day.

I had no idea why, but now I know.

The first things she asked me after so many years was if “Home Sweet Home” was about her.

She never cared about me, she cares only about herself.

That’s my mother, Deana! Every time she called I shoot heroin in my veins so I don’t think about her.

And now I met her, I saw her in the eyes because that idiot thought it could help me.

Fucking idiot.”

You knew Doc’s intentions weren’t bad, but he didn’t know the whole story.

You were horrified that someone so selfish and toxic grew up Nikki. It was no surprises he didn’t want to see her.

Seeing the boy you loved crying silently with the hands on his face, while little hiccups shook him, broke your heart. What could you do?

Slowly you went on your knees in front of him and hugged him, hoping that your body could say what your words couldn’t.

Nikki stay frozen for a while, then hugged you back. A tight hug, the same of a man who was drowning and found something that keep him above water.

“Nikki…”

You said softly, caressing gently his hair.

“I can’t delete your past and I can’t change the fact that Deana was an asshole to you, but when she calls you I will be there for you if you want to.

Come talk to me, every time you want to, I will listen.

I care about you, I don’t want you to shoot heroin in your veins if it can be avoided. I don’t want to see you kill yourself slowly…” Your voice cracked.

“I don’t wanna find you dead or read that someone did. I really care about you.

So please come to me, instead of heroin.” Now you were crying too.

You poured your heart in those words, you hoped that reached Nikki’s heart because you really didn’t want to see him consume himself. You loved him, but at this point it didn’t even matter, it was okay being just his friend.

He looked you in the eyes. This time his eyes were vulnerable and a bit scared, you didn’t break the contact.

“Do you care so much about me that is okay for you that a fucked up guy could’ve call you at every hours of the day or night?”

“Yes.”

He smiled weakly and then kissed you.

It was a gentle and soft kiss, still it sent shivers on your spine.

“Nikki?” You said confused, he brushed your lips.

“I like you, I wanna try to trust you.”

You hugged him.

“I’m so happy you did.” “But I’m really tired now, can I sleep here next to you?

You nodded and he started to undress. You did the same, but at the moment to lay on the bed you hesitated.

“Come.” He said with a smile.

“Ok.”

You laid next to him who hugged you from behind.

You were a bit scared because from now you would start a long journey, complicated and full of pain, but the warmth of Nikki’s body calmed you down.

Whatever it would happen you’ll face it with him.

That what the warmth was telling you and you believed it.

You believed in your heart and that made you feel brave.

None of you wasn’t alone anymore.

You felt asleep smiling.

Maybe you were a fool, but it was worth a try.

Love was never wasted.

[theoddcatlady]

Granny

My granny was a terrible person.

A crotchety old woman that was hardly over one hundred pounds soaking wet, she would sit in her rocking chair all day long and scowl while watching her TV game shows. She looked like a skeleton with cracked leather clinging to her bones and wisps of colorless hair sticking out from a mostly bald scalp. And she was mean. If I tried to play Legos in the living room?

“You better clean those up, boy, or you’ll regret the day you were born!”

If I laughed too loudly at whatever TV program was on?

“Stop that racket! That junk will rot your brain!”

If I so much as walked too fast?

“Quit rough housing or else!”

And that ‘or else’ wasn’t an empty threat. Granny had a big cane she carried, a dark redwood one with a raven’s head for the handle. I’m pretty sure she could’ve just used a walker to get around the house, she just liked the impression the big ole cane gave off. When she walked about, she’d smack it down with each step, hard enough to make the floor shake. If she wanted to be sneaky though she’d not made a peep until she was right behind you. Then, with her acidic voice and stale breath, she’d whisper into your ear,

“And just what do you think you’re doing?”

I wasn’t a bad child. Not really. I didn’t get a chance to be. But Granny made me so nervous I’d often forget to do things, like pick up my toys or not run indoors. And when Granny caught me, oh I’d really would regret the day I was born.

Granny didn’t just spank you with her hand. She used that cane, and she’d take it across your back and your butt with all the strength in her shriveled body. It only took one whack to make you never want to sit again, and she usually brought it down three or four times. Never while mom or dad was around though. Nope. They never got to see the spankings. Granny was too clever, I suppose she knew they wouldn’t stand for that.

I hated my grandmother. From a young age I knew I hated her. She wasn’t ever involved in my life except to cause me pain and humiliation. Invitations to school recitals and plays were met with scoffs. I actually tried a few times to have her come, maybe getting out of the damn house would make her lighten up a bit.

Nope. She would laugh and say, “I’d rather jab my ears out with an ice pick than hear you screech on stage while calling it music, Alan.”

She wasn’t quite so cruel when mom was in hearing distance, but she still wasn’t kind about it. It was a nightmare. I’d go to bed crying and I’d never have friends over. I was too ashamed and I had no doubt that in one way or another Granny would drive them away.

I only had the courage to bring over a friend one time. Kendra Reilly.

She was a fun girl, with red pigtails tied with neon green scrunchies and glasses with round lenses and cheetah print frames. She was amazing. We both liked to sit on the swings and sing during recess. We’d hold little concerts. Kendra, being the goofball she was, would ask for tips afterwards in the form of desserts or crackers. Shockingly that sometimes worked, but she always made sure to split them evenly with me. It was half my work after all, according to Kendra.

I thought maybe it’d be okay to invite her over just once. Granny was laid up in bed more often than not at the time and I figured, why not?

I walked in and was immediately met with Granny’s loud screeching voice, “Wipe off your feet on the mat or else!”

Kendra’s eyes went wide and my heart sank. “Let’s just go play in my room,” I whispered before taking her hand and sneaking past Granny. She didn’t seem to notice that there were two pairs of soft footsteps going up the stairs, she was too focused on Family Feud.

Once we were away from Granny things got better again. I turned on my Disney music and we sang along, Kendra talked about a funny dream she had last night, when it was just us it was fun.

Then my door slammed open and there was my Granny. She took one look at Kendra and her face went red as tomato sauce.  

“Why is there a girl in your room?!” She shrieked before slapping me across the face, hard enough to leave a handprint.

I was only nine years old at the time. I immediately burst into tears. “I’m sorry Granny! We just… just wanted to play…”

My sniffles went unheard as Granny grabbed Kendra by the ear and started yanking her out the door. “Come here, you little hussy! Going into boy’s rooms at your age, you’re going to end up barefoot and pregnant before you’re sixteen!” Kendra started to scream and tried to pull away but Granny was unrelenting.

I think I finally snapped. I was so tired of the years of torment, all the times I felt ashamed of having such a cruel grandmother, and seeing her attack one of my only friends just pushed me over my limit.

I didn’t shove her hard, just rough enough so she’d let go. Granny fell back on her butt with a yelp and then she clutched her chest.

“Oh! My heart! My heart!”

At first I thought she was being overdramatic, that she was trying to make me seem like some sort of monster child so my parents would ground me. But she wasn’t. Her face went gray before her eyes rolled back and she passed out.

Granny survived two days in the hospital before finally passing away.

I was torn between the feeling of finally being free and the grief that I was the one who caused her heart attack. Kendra and I lied, saying that Granny just marched upstairs, started shouting, and then she had the heart attack. Nothing about me shoving her.

My parents were quiet during the funeral. I somehow fell asleep to the minister’s monotone voice. Had horrible nightmares in which Granny burst from the coffin and wrung my neck screaming about how I murdered her. I woke up and had to excuse myself to the restroom, I’d wet myself in fear.

The next week was quiet. I was so used to Granny watching game shows or her shouting at me for something I had done. It was almost relaxing.

I should’ve known the peace was at an end when I came home to find my mother sobbing at the kitchen table while my father was resting a hand on her back. I heard her say, “I thought she was gone this time!” before I finally looked at the stove.

A woman with dark hair in a tight bun and wearing a long black dress with a high neck was stirring some sort of soup. Judging by the smell it was cabbage. She turned to me, her eyes fastened on me like a hawk on its prey.

“Alan, you’re late for dinner. I expect you to be home at five PM every week day. Where’s your homework?”

My mother wailed before burying her face in her hands. I looked beside the woman at the stove, where something was resting against the counter.

A cane with a raven’s head for the handle.

And suddenly I recognized the woman standing there at the stove cooking dinner.

That night ‘Granny’ came into my room. I was numb with shock. I didn’t understand. Was this really Granny? Was it a clone? Or was this some warped dream?

The door creaked open and I nearly hid under my bed as the dark haired woman walked into my room, her head held high. I pulled the blankets over me as I shook. I thought I was going to die.

When I looked into her eyes, I knew she was truly Granny. Gray like cement and colder than dry ice. Granny glided across the room before she sat at the foot of my bed. She rested her chin on her cane, seemingly lost in thought for several minutes before she chuckled.

“You’re a lot like your mother you know. She actually put rat poison in my breakfast. She wanted me gone too.”

I didn’t say anything.

Granny’s gaze rested on me again and her mouth was twisted in a morbid smirk.

“I only want what’s best for you, Alan. When you listen to me, things will go according to plan. I suppose I just have to be stricter with you. Now, I expect you to be home by five every day. Call me Nanny now, your mother hired me to take care of you because of what happened to your poor grandmother. Start bringing Kendra with you- are you listening or are you nodding off?”

I couldn’t have fallen asleep even if I tried, I bobbed my head up and down frantically.

“Good boy. Start bringing Kendra here. Not to your room. Girls that want to be in boy’s rooms by that age are no good. Don’t give her any ideas but keep her around. Keep your grades above a B or you’ll be punished. Your room must be clean before you leave the house. When you start going out on the weekends, you must give me a week’s notice and perform extra well in your chores. And don’t you try to get rid of me. You won’t like it when I come back. Is that clear, Alan?”

I opened my mouth but what came out was, “What will happen if I don’t listen to you?”

Granny laughed. A creepy, flat sound that scratched my ears and made the hair stand up on my neck.

“You’ll lose your privileges. Your mother used to be able to have a job, go out on Saturday nights, be married so someone she loved… be allowed two children. She lost those privileges. As long as you listen, Alan, you won’t ever have to fear losing your privileges.”

I’m now eighteen. Nanny has ordered me to propose to Kendra tonight. We’re only kids. We’re in love. But we’re not ready.

But I don’t want to lose any more of my privileges.

[questionofdarkness]

[1/3] ♥ hello! may i request a matchup? well, i'm pretty tall - 6'0" to be precise. infp, straight, female. brunette, hazel eyes and a kinda hourglass figure? i'm known as the "soft one" by my friends and generally people say i'm really nice;; i'm the "mum friend" too. i'm said to be a good hugger and i love hugs! i'm also a huge softie and i do my best to be empathetic and understand others! i am very affectionate with those i love and am always willing to help out!

[2/3] ♥ i really like cats, dogs and birds - so so much! i also really love to cheer for people and make sure they’re okay. i do like to talk though. art in love in general, writing too! i like writing more than reading actually. i like to learn new things but i don’t like people that aren’t honest. people who can tell me the truth without hesitation i really like. i don’t particularly like heavy metal music. i really hate horror and scary thing, but for some reason like conspiracy theories?

[3/3] ♥ i love lo-fi hip hop music. also kpop;; gardening, writing and drawing is stuff i really love doing as hobbies! i love rainy days and also cold weather in general. i like snuggling up by a warm person in winter! birds, cats and dogs i love equally! i like being indoors, but also going out and being active. the type of people i prefer are honest and dedicated to their interests. not trouble maker at all really… i play volleyball! i hope that this is alright and i’m not bothering you!

Hello there, anon. Of course you’re not bothering me! I feel flattered that you took the time to write me in the first place! Unlike myself… Yeah, for you as well: sorry. I’ll try and be more coherent with my activity here. So anyway, hope you like the matchup. I really wasn’t sure who to pair you with, I hope it came out alright. (Also: I really got into lo-fi hip hop and chill beats in general recently. It’s not actually my taste, but for studying or writing etc. it’s really nice. Listening to it rn actually)

And I match you with… Mirio Togata!

(is this an appropriate time to note that I always put your guys at the same age as your match when I write this?)

You had been working at the same coffee shop in town for a while now. It was supposed to only be a short term way of getting some money so you could focus on your artistic works without having to worry before really pursuing a career, but you found yourself very content in the cozy building with its big seats and wooden tables and the smell of warm beverages in the air. So you staid and never regretted it. You still had all your life in front of you, if you ever were to change your mind you could always quit.

Some most customers you knew. The shop wasn’t especially popular or big, so it mainly hosted a small number of regulars. Whenever a new face showed up you therefore were automatically intrigued. So when the four of them first showed their face, you paid close attention from the beginning.

They came in a late afternoon. They might have been a family, a glaring man with the children of varying ages, but they all looked way to different from each other. The man was extremely tall, even surpassing your 6’ with ease and green-blond hair. He seemed like a serious guy, business probably, judging by his tie. The oldest of the remaining three might have been something between 20 and 25, blue skin and a gentle smile. The youngest featured a wild bush of green hair and seemed extremely awkward, nestling with his hands and blushing furiously at every glance one of the few customers gave him. And then there was the third one, an also rather tall, muscular dude with blond hair and big eyes and the biggest grin you had ever seen a person wearing. He walked confidently, basically marching towards your counter, his cowlick hair bouncing slightly with every step he took. It was him that ordered, whilst the other three sat down in a corner furthest away from anyone else, and he was beaming like the sun itself, as if ordering two mochas, a black coffee and a green tea was the best thing that had ever happened to him. You were curious and had around three dozens of questions, but you knew better than to ask and instead went on to prepare the order. He complimented the establishment while you were at it, pointing out the nice lighting and location and the orange theme. He talked as if he had been part of your routine for years, always wearing that bright smile of his, and when you passed him the hot cups as well as the slices of chocolate cake he had ordered between two sentences, he tipped you twice the usual amount. You couldn’t help staring at him for the rest of the evening, as he sat next to the green haired kid, lying his arm around his shoulder and punching the air with his fist. Maybe the two of them actually were brothers?

They stayed for a long time, the shop was nearly empty once they got up. You had been cleaning some of the tables around them in order to catch some of the words spoken and figured out it was either his or the younger one’s birthday. Apparently, his name was Lemilion. He even brought the dished back to the counter, thanking you for the food and praising your excellent drinks (although you mainly pressed a button on a machine, but that didn’t seem to bother him very much). He waved goodbye as he left and the room suddenly felt empty without his presence. No wonder you were more than content when his face was the first thing you saw the next day, only minutes after you had opened the shop.

He became you favorite regular quickly, due to his lifelines and polite behavior. You started talking with him, but only small talk, nothing of importance or any depth. Sometimes he brought the shy boy with him, most of the time he came alone. You still had no idea who he was or what he was doing or where the scars on his arms came from, but you were content for now with him being a friendly customer.

It was once he started referring to you by name directly that you thought it was time to learn more about him. When you cautiously called him “Lemilion” for the first time, he seemed awfully surprised. “You knew?” he asked and you shrugged and explained that you had heard them talking the first time. “Oh”, he said and then went back to his smile, “just don’t tell anyone, ok? Also you can call me Mirio.” You didn’t understand what he meant by that.

Until the same evening after closing hours that was, when the idea occurred to you to look up the name, and you nearly fell from your chair when you realized why the four of them had seemed so oddly familiar to you.

The days came and went, as did Mirio. Your talks turned longer and more private, until you made it a habit to actually join him whenever you had the time. He had laughed at the misunderstanding but choose to ignore it other than that. While he didn’t tell you anything about his life as a hero or student, he told you much about literally everything else, from his best friend “Tamaki” to his houseplants and his favorite comedians.

He is a very honest and open guy, but it still came as surprise to you when he blatantly asked you to go on a date with him after he had stayed until the second you had to close the shop.

There are many things to love about Mirio. His cheery, yet goody personality enables him to be excited about basically anything and since he really cares about you that ends up in him being overly eager to learn about your hobbies. You love cats? He’ll go ahead and figure out the address of every single neko-café in town! You enjoy kpop? Well, guess who made an effort to learn all the names of your favorite bands by heart within a week of finding out! You draw? Got yourself a #1 fan with Mirio!

He is so sunny and warm, it sometimes hurts to look at him. But behind the goofball is also someone with strong opinions and a will to improve, so he will give you honest feedback whenever you ask for it. He might not be very good in academic subjects, but he has a trained eye and experience with the most random subjects.

Your favorite pastime with him is during breaks, when rain is gently pouring against the windows of your living room and the world seems quiet and at ease. He’ll snuggle up to you, with a cozy blanket and hot chocolate, and you’ll either quietly listen to the water or talk about this or that. He can be very calm then, his smile becoming much more of a gently open hearth than the burning sun itself.

Both you and he have extremely good friends, your tendency of caring about the people around you a lot and wanting to make everyone happy brings people close to you. You are both curious about the worlds in a warm, maybe sometimes a bit naïve way and love to explore new things together. You also have in common that you are huge softies.

Mirio isn’t an airhead, he’s in fact one of the most thoughtful people you know, but he has a contagiously energetic personality that makes him easy to like. You stand behind his aspiration to become a hero as much as he supports you in your dreams. You make for a wholesome, happy couple.