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HELLO FRIENDS, after not being here in like, forever, i’mma tRY and bring tommy back and get into my old indie rhythm. I’m working on another indie right now, but once that’s set up and i’m back into my writing flow i’mma try and bring both tommy & peter back part time xox

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UPDATE;

sorry i haven’t been around as of late! i’ve been having some serious money troubles and everything’s been super busy! good news is that things are starting to clear up and i should be back in action on both here and continuing to revamp my peter hayes blog starting this weekend! xox

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Conformist     ☆☆★☆☆☆☆☆    Rebel      Naive     ★☆☆☆☆☆☆☆    Cynical Indecisive     ☆☆☆☆★☆☆☆    Inflexible    Selfish     ☆☆☆☆☆☆★☆    Self-sacrificing  Apathetic     ☆☆☆☆☆★☆☆    Emotional    Fearful     ☆☆☆☆★☆☆☆    Reckless   Childish     ★☆☆☆☆☆☆☆    Humorless  Dependent     ☆★☆☆☆☆☆☆    Loner     Passive     ★☆☆☆☆☆☆☆    Aggressive 

balancing personality flaws

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Wanweird

    WORD-BASED DRABBLES: accepting                        wanweird - an unhappy fate.

        FOUR YEARS, seven months, and twenty-one days. that’s how long it takes        for someone to finally tire of andrew neiman’s shit. and honestly, he can’t say        he’s too surprised—-he hasn’t returned a phone call in days and hasn’t so        much as SMILED for weeks, there aren’t any red flags, any reason to doubt        the inevitable train wreck that was the relationship between them. what truly        surprised him was the fact that it wasn’t him to break it off clean. that it was-        n’t him to say we need to talk, it wasn’t him to purse his lips and give a he-        sitant sigh before listing the reasons this wouldn’t work out anymore, that’s        the shocking part about the whole ordeal. but the day tommy looks at him        with sadness in his pathetic loving brown eyes, he folds his useless shaking        hands atop the table because welp, it’s been good, but he saw this coming—-

                               AND HE SMILES.

        the corners of his lips quirk into a vacant grin and andrew fucking SMILES,        because he snorted something chalky before coming here and he just re-        membered, he can’t FEEL his fucking hands. and it’s better that he doesn’t,        because he’d remember the way they felt the first time tommy laced his fin-        gers through his as a mere joke, he’d remember the way it felt to have to        wipe them on his jeans whenever he was too close to the other boy, or he’d        remember the unfortunate way they shook too hard and dropped his drink        in tommy’s lap the first time he asked andrew out on a date, and the sorry        way his thumb grazed tommy’s cheek the first time they fucked and the way        he clutched his hair and scraped his fingernails across his back and gasped        and arched to fit his body to tommy’s a million times afterward, and how he        used to just lie beside tommy and trace his bottom lip with his index finger        and whisper how lucky he was to be his, when his DREAMS were still dreams        and tommy was the only thing that mattered in his small, simple world, and        he’d remember that god, he loved him so fucking much, and he still does,        and that’d only complicate things further. he’d rather not remember anything.

                                                                ( he’s got a gig to play tomorrow. )

        the tears don’t come until later when he looks down at those same destroyed,        worthless hands, and realizes that tommy always cared about him because of        them, despite of them, and the terrible feeling of knowing he fucked up his last        good thing arises in his throat with the BILE of his come down. maybe being        heartbroken isn’t the worst part of it all. maybe knowing that despite all the shit        andrew’s put him through, tommy still takes the blame for it is, maybe he’ll ne-        ver know. but he punches the wall, and he takes a painkiller, and by four in the        morning he’s passed out on the bathroom floor with his arm over his face.

      BOYS LIKE HIM AREN’T MEANT FOR LOVE—-              when trusted with precious things, they destroy them.

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The String Quartet Tribute to The Killers // Jenny was a friend of mine

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Dystopia

Send me a word and I will write a drabble with our characters:

Dystopia - Am imaginary place of total misery. A metaphor for hell.

             ❝ Tommy? ❞  they’re both perched on top of her bed, wrapped up in each others arms.it’s what she assumes has been a long day at school for the both of them, he’s wearing that half-pulled smile he does when he’s trying to hide his stress.  the whole room is bright, the warm sun peeking through her pinkcurtains and cascading across their flesh.         it’s so easy to gaze up into his eyes, to SEE him with her again.         her blue eyes are wide as they rest on him, the mere comfort         of his touch was enough to soothe her dizziest daydreams.         he was how all her dreams started. 

       A SCREAM emits from her thin, spoiled lips. that’s when it all turns red.        an all too familiar hand stained in blood reaches out to grab at her sweet,       perfect, Tommy. she tenses, her body shooting up as he’s dragged off of        her bed, her hand is still locked with his, desperately attempting to pull him       back to her, to make him stay with her this once.  she wouldn’t let him leave       her again.   ❝ Tommy! ❞  she’s scared. her whole body is shaking as his eyes meet hers in utter terror. she CAN’T stop it from taking him, she keeps pulling at his now slippery hands,he’s starting to slip through her fingertips once again. she’s pawing at his skin, pulling him to her without any result. all it’s doing is straining her reach. she’s no match for the monster with the crimson hands, the one that haunts her everymove, is engraved in her stained skull. he was all she ever wanted, and now he was being stole from her, over and over again.           sharp hands siege her thin ankles shortly after his hands are pulled out of         her reach. she shrieks, whimpering at the hard, nasty grip on her. she reached       to dig her nails into her bed, trying to keep herself up on top of it, stop from being    dragged down into the dark. 

❝No! Stop!  ❞   

❝ Tommy!❞            a horrified hysterical cry weeps out of her shaking body,          as another hand grabs her shoulder, sinking her back          into reality. her eyes shoot open, revealing her mom’s          tight arms around her, rubbing at her shoulder. sobs are          all she can allow to escape, tears flooding down her much         less than rosy cheeks. sticky, pasty skin that was only given         to those granted with the presence of a ghost.❝ Sue, sweetie it’s okay. It was just a   dream, no one’s going to hurt you.❞  

❝ I c-cant. He’s gone. ❞  the words are more of a muffled whimper from a terrorized mouth, but it’s the only thing she does know with absolute certainty…it’s misery without him.

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Wanweird

ONE WORD DRABBLES ; accepting.                                         wanweird - an unhappy fate. 

        IN ALL FAIRNESS,         THEY HADN’T EXPECTED THIS TO HAPPEN…

                                        “It’s for the best, Tommy.”

         It’d been MONTHS since their prom, and though the brain         trauma was minimal,  the memories non-existent and, on         paper, he was a perfectly normal teenage boy——things had         been SPIRALING out of control since.         The group therapy sessions were the WORST. He just felt         consumed with guilt over the fact that he was left to imagine what         the other had seen. TRAMPLINGSBURNING                                          and horrific acts of violence he had no memory of.                                          It just made his stomach twist. 

       Some told him he should be GRATEFUL he “walked away unscathed”                                                                                   “unharmed”                                                                                   “undamaged”,         but frankly, he didn’t feel blessed, he felt WRONG.        The sensation ATE at him on the nights he’d clutch Sue in his arms,       arms bandaged around her small torso as she struggles and screamed                and kicked at the non-existent form of a night terror.

       He felt the guilt CONSUME him like a cancer as he watched her        hollow out into a shell of a beautiful, vibrant girl she’d once been.        He’d actually been physically sick the night Sue and him went to the        hospital and the doctor had informed them that she had MISCARRIED                                             their developing daughter.        Soon it was every night he’d find himself wrapped around her like a         STRAIGHT JACKET as she wretched and cried and wailed,                       he found himself soothing her with practice.        It hadn’t taken long for the color to drain itself from his eyes the way        hers had. It was CONTAGIOUS, almost, and Tommy hadn’t even        been aware of how everything dulls and everything stilled and the guilt        eating away at him had rendered him empty with nothing more that a                                constant sinking feeling in his chest.

       The doctors said he’d developed depression, and he had avoided telling        Sue in worries of furthering her OWN depressions. But he had, as the         long standing unspoken policy of honesty still stood in their relationship.

                                  “ This isn’t good for you, Tommy. “

       He wish he could have managed something other than a compliant, understanding 

                                                                     OKAY…

       But it seemed that the urge to BEG HER to stay with him, to remind her that          she was all he had left in the world that was good, that he NEEDED her more                                         than anything right now…

                              But he COULDN’T.

       His breath hitched in this breath and blocked the desperate pleas and something        inside him tried to force a brave face FOR HER SAKE despite the burning             threat of tears and the dryness in his throat that warned or unfightable sobs.     SOMETHING inside him physically broke, he swears to this day. He felt a jerk of           pain inside his chest that caused a rising in his throat and clouding in his mind.

               His family moved shortly after that, out of that town. out of the state…

       AND THAT WAS THE LAST TIME HE EVER SAW SUE SNELL.

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karenstarrs:

ALL YOUR FAVORITE MALE CHARACTERS AS FATHERS

ALL YOUR FAVORITE MALE CHARACTERS UP AT 3AM BOTTLE FEEDING THE BABY

ALL YOUR FAVORITE MALE CHARACTERS FALLING ASLEEP WITH THE BABY IN THEIR ARMS BECAUSE NEITHER HAVE SLEPT ALL NIGHT

ALL YOUR FAVORITE MALE CHARACTERS MAKING FACES AT THEIR BABY TO MAKE THEM LAUGH

ALL YOUR FAVORITE MALE CHARACTERS GIVING PIGGYBACK RIDES

ALL YOUR FAVORITE MALE CHARACTERS AS FATHERS

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OKAY. I have 4 more starters to pump out for Tammy, and then i’m gonna try and finish the 11 memes in my askbox, than maybe a new theme and working on giveaway stuff!

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— tropicalqueer​

         Coming from the quaint little corner of suburbia          she was, her and her friends often found their REAL          excitement by dwelling in parts that weren’t suited                for her small town MAINE nativity.         Painted up with violet on her eyes, rose in her cheeks         and ruby on her lips in some botched hand made crop         top and cut off jeans, she’d lost her friends and her sobriety               ( and probably her keys ) hours ago.

                ❛YO! Hey, uh — hablas ENGLISH..?❜

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— obsessiiive

            ❛’EY. Sweetheart—are you okay?  You’re lookin’ a  little lost or something... ❜

         FRANKLY, Tammy knows everybody who’s anybody, and frankly, if she doesn’t recognize a face, she unfortunately feels compelled by some other force to go out of her way to befriend as many new people as possible.. Partial because she felt it as her duty as a cheerleader, partial because she was just a disgustingly kid person.

           ❛I’ve got a sec’ if you NEED somethin’... ❜

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— stjamcs

        One of the glories of being CHARSMATIC and BEAUTIFUL         is that despite being incredibly underaged, it’s actually—————       NOT THAT HARD to sneak into bars. However, it’s only taken         about an hour with her friends to run low on cash and run high on       BLOOD ALCOHOL CONTENT. But again, being hot should         always be taken advantage of, and as she wanders over to bar and          slides up next to a stranger at the bar, she plans to do just THAT..

          ❛ HEY, MISTER——buy me a drink? ❜

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We all deserve morning sex and waffles

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— wholeheaartedly​

             ❛Do you wanna share an EARBUD? ❜

         She’s not big on BUS RIDES, but she’s even less fond          of sitting alone in total silence. Though if she had better          understanding of social boundaries, maybe she wouldn’t          go asking strangers to share things they’ve been sticking                                       in their EARS.