#(he knew he was fucking up with izzy but wasn't ready to face it and let himself be held accountable the way jack would make him do)

[carelessflower]

angel for angel

The music blazed around them, people lost in the feel, in their heartbeats, in others. 

"So, spill it." Izzy took another sip of her cocktail. "What's made you suddenly change your mind, dear brother? And to this specific place." She eyed Alec and took in every changing detail on his face. It wasn't that Angel was a bad club, it was quite the opposite. The design took guests from one level of amazement to the other, classy yet sensual, the lights shone like galaxies.

She was very much surprised she hadn't heard of this club before, yet her what-a-party-can't-we-just-stay-home brother did. 

"I just feel like changing the air for a while." Alec tugged on his black shirt's sleeve, probably the tightest piece in his closet. He's made an effort in his appearance overall, the black leather pants that were buried deeper than their mom's wine collection were finally brought to use. Izzy would be impressed with her brother if she didn't catch how he constantly looked at some scene behind him.

"Are you gonna go talk to him or continue acting like a creep?" Of fucking course it was Magnus that got her brother possessed and illogical. Who else?

"I can't, Izzy. He didn't want to see me." Alec looked miserable. Izzy hated it. Hated all of this. She hated that it happened. She hated how she couldn't blame it entirely on Magnus for the breakup, or that he broke her brother's heart. 

Magnus was dancing with somebody, even from a distance, she could feel the energy radiating from him, that spark no one could resist. He was enjoying himself, at least. It had been half a year or so, there was more in life than one's broken heart, Izzy knew that from experience.

She sighed.

Alec needed a distraction, cornering him into a wall would only lead to him closing off again. At least, not today.

"Look at your face, Alec. Raziel, I thought they banned misery at the club. Tell you what, I'll call Jace here, we're gonna get shit-faced, wake up with a joint headache tomorrow and hear Mom complain for three hours. Deal?"

Alec smiled lightly. It wasn't big, but it was a hopeful start. "Deal."

—

Izzy came back to her brother missing. She was nearly at her breaking point.

"Jace, do you feel Alec is in danger?"

"No?" Jace scrunched his eyebrows. "He is warm...and fuzzy? Not quite drunk either, just really excited."

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She turned it on and read the most recent notification. I'm leaving. You and Jace have a fun night. Don't worry about me.

Well, that was most definitely the best way to make people stop worrying.

"Should we track him?" Jace was already ready with his stele.

"Let him be," Izzy said. Maybe Alec needed more time for himself. "We'll intervene if he gets caught in trouble."

The next morning came, and Alec still hadn't come back. Despite Jace's attempt at assuring her that Alec was absolutely better than fine and probably the happiest he had been in a while, Izzy felt the need to call him for confirmation.

One long pause. 

Two long pauses.

"Huh— hello? Izzy? Did something happen?"

"No, everything is fine." She paused for a moment. "Where are you Alec? You totally bailed on us last night."

"Oh shit, I'm so sorry. Something came up and hey—" Alec was ...laughing? What the fuck? "Magnus! Stop it! Control yourself, I'm talking—" On the other line, it sounded like the phone had fallen somewhere. Perhaps Magnus's bed. 

She needed some time to take all of this in first.

Alec picked up again, the joy was undeniable in his tone. "Ugh, so sorry for that. My company has no manners." Izzy could practically feel how they were looking at each other right now. 

She calmed herself down. "I don't care when you're coming back. I want a detailed report on whatever went down, or else Church might find new chew toys in your closet. Understood?"

"Fine."

"And tell Magnus I say hi."

"I will—" The line cut off.

"What happened?" Jace asked. "And why you're smiling?"

"Fate finds its way somehow." Izzy rolled her eyes but she knew how happy she was. Magnus left Angel with an angel in his arms. They were so ridiculous.

for @malectober day 1 prompt angel

[run-me-through-but-not-like-that]

Hellooo I really love your writing so much, all your stuff are lovely! If you're up for writing more for Izzy would you consider making one where reader is an artist and he basically catches them sketching him? Maybe they don't even know each other very well yet/don't have an established relationship and he catches them staring at him and realizes they are actually drawing him🧍‍♂️

Thank you! Here you go!

Izzy Hands x Artist!Gn!Reader:

At first Izzy thought the crew was just mediocre. Awful and he hated them but surely they could be whipped into shape.

Then he found out that Lucius' only role on the ship appeared to be transcribing whatever Stede fucking Bonnet pleaded.

He assumed that had to be the worst of it, until he found out that the ship also had an artist aboard.

Sure, he had noticed you scribbling in some sketchbook before, furious at the laziness of the crew, but when he found out that your art was the main reason Stede hired you? He was ready to stab somebody.

Stede liked to have you around, sketching the places you visit.

There wasn't always many references to draw from at sea. There are only so many drawing of the ocean you can do, and you have done many.

You had sketched everyone on the ship, not the same way Lucius does.

You liked capturing the moment, when the crew don't know they're being sketched. Whether they're working or laughing together. Those were your favourite pieces.

You were glad to have new subjects to work with when Ed and his crew joined the Revenge.

You had a few sketches of Fang and Ivan interacting with the rest of the crew.

Some sketches of Edward, he was quite an interesting subject to draw.

But your favourite person to sketch had become Izzy Hands.

You had done a few reference sketches and studies of him at first, not thinking much of it. But the more you sketched him, the more little details you noticed and the more you enjoyed putting his face to paper

-

You sat on the deck, curled up on the steps, out of the way in an attempt to go unnoticed.

Izzy was watching over the crew with a scowl on his face, his usual expression.

Your hand moved over the page, adding the details to the rough sketch you had put together.

Your gaze repeatedly flickering between the pages and your unknowing model.

You full attention turned to your work as you focused on the shading of his eyes, frowning when a shadow was cast over your sketchbook.

Lifting your head to figure out what had blocked the sunlight, you completely froze when you saw Izzy glaring down at you.

"What are you fucking looking at?" he asked but your voice caught in your throat, worried he would throw you overboard for daring to sketch him.

You hadn't even spoke to the man before, not really, definitely nothing friendly. You weren't even sure if he knew your name, nor if he cared to.

Before you could reply, Izzy had snatched the book from your hands.

You shot to your feet, reaching for the sketchbook. Hoping he didn't toss it into the ocean, but also embarrassed by the amount of time his face shows up in those pages.

"What the fuck?" Izzy muttered to himself as he looked down at the sketch of him you were working on.

You reached for the book again but he turned his back to you, blocking you.

Then he started flipping through the pages.

Yep, another one of him.

And another...

And another.....

Okay, this was humiliating.

"You sketched me?" Izzy turned back to you with a look of disbelief on his face.

"...I sketch everyone" you shrugged, assuming he would be angry with you. He was always angry, about everything.

You glanced down at the sketchbook in his hands, a small smile tugging at your lips when you saw the piece he had stopped on.

"That's my favourite" you confessed, gesturing towards the pages.

Izzy frowned, looking down to see the only sketch you had of him smiling. It wasn't a bright smile, only a small one, but the most genuine expression you had seen him wear.

"Why?" he asked before he couldn't stop himself. His voice quieter than he had planned, catching you off guard a little.

"Because you look kinda happy, relaxed. You don't look like that a lot" you told him.

You would have been embarrassed about the way your face heat up at your confession, if he wasn't blushing as well.

Oh that was adorable, and you would be committing that expression to paper as soon as you could.

"I've never really asked anyone to actually model for me before. I mean, Stede sometimes I guess when he asks me too...but maybe I could sketch you properly?" you asked, knowing that you were pushing your luck.

"Fuck off" he snapped, seemingly coming back to his senses, as he slammed the book shut and pushed it into your chest.

"Yes, sir" you nodded, clutching the sketchbook to your chest as you scurrying off. You just considered yourself lucky to get the sketchbook back.

-

You didn't stop sketching Izzy, you couldn't help it. You just made sure to be careful as to not get caught.

Izzy tried to forget catching you sketching him but it had only made him more aware of when you were around, of when you were glancing at him.

Everything went normally for a while, until you just so happened to place your sketchbook down in the kitchen and walk away from it.

Izzy had come across it, noticing nobody else around, and he couldn't help himself.

He picked up the book and flipped to the most recent pages. The sketches were mostly of him, with other people and scenes scattered in between. But it was obvious that pieces of him had been your focus recently.

When he heard somebody approaching, he left with the book in his hands, heading to his cabin to have a better look at your artwork.

He sits on the edge of his cot, sketchbook open in his lap as he flipped through the pages.

He just couldn't quite believe it, that you had taken so much time to sketch him, to put so much detail into the pieces.

It's flattering...it's unfamiliar.

When you couldn't find your sketchbook, you panicked. Stede would not be happy if you lost it but you were more worried about Lucius finding it and teasing you about all your sketches of Izzy. He would never let you live it down.

You couldn't find it and nobody else had seen it.

Maybe Izzy had found it and thrown it into the ocean like you thought he would when he first find it.

So, against your better judgement, you headed towards his cabin when you couldn't find him.

You knocked on the door and waited anxiously before Izzy opened the door with a glare, his face softening slightly when he realised it was you.

"Uh...I can't find my sketchbook, I was just wondering if you had seen it?"

He looks at you for a moment before sighing. He didn't say anything as he stepped back into his cabin, returning with your book in his hand.

"Here" he handed it to you.

"Oh...did you like the new pieces?" you asked as you took it from him, wondering why he would take it in the first place without destroying it...just to look at it?

"You're, uh...you're talented" his compliment put a bright smile on your face as you thanked him.

That night, you slipped a page of your sketchbook under his cabin door. Accompanied by a note along the lines of 'this is one of my favourites, you look good. You can keep this one.'

And he does keep it, tucked away somewhere safe where nobody will stumble upon it.

He'll occasionally look at it, wondering what you saw in him to be so interested in drawing him. He liked the way he looked in the drawings, how he looked in your eyes.

-

While Izzy is always telling Lucius to do something more useful.

He never tells you that anymore. If he noticed you working in your sketchbook, he leaves you to it, feeling a little bit of pride whenever he notices your gaze flick up to him.

You could absolutely convince him to let you sketch properly at this point but only if the rest of the crew don't find out about it.

So, it's in the bad light of his cabin one evening but you make it work.

He's light enough to notice his blushing when you compliment him.

Feeling more comfortable with you, he confesses that he doesn't know what you see in him.

He crumbles when you tell him, "everything."

After that, Izzy seems to spend more time around you.

During the quiet moments, he'll sit beside you, finding it calming to watch you sketch. Occasionally giving you a compliment.

You see beauty in things that he wouldn't even look twice at. You see beauty in him...

Seeing him so relaxed around you, only inspires you more.

There are new expressions you've never seen on his face before, postures you never seen from him before.

You made him laugh once as you covered a double spread page with that image. You wouldn't give him those as a gift, those were for you.

You were sitting together one night, enjoying the quiet, but you were buried in your sketchbook, capturing how the moonlight made Izzy glow.

He glanced at you and you noticed the hesitation, the silent questions. He still didn't understand why you drew him so much.

"I think you're beautiful, Iz" you whispered, answering his unasked questions, knowing that he heard you.

His breath hitches before he lets out a heavy breath. Nobody's ever told him that before.

You placed the sketchbook down, deciding to try to live in the moment rather than trying to immortalise everything, and moved to sit closer to Izzy, shoulders touching.

You figured that you come this far and didn't think Izzy would throw you overboard...so, you cautiously slipped your hand into his.

Izzy tensed at first, unused to such contact, but slowly relaxed again, holding your hand in return.

You bid him goodnight and he lets out a sigh when you kiss his cheek, like the gesture had lifted a weight from his shoulders.

You take mercy on him and take the risk before you talk yourself out of it, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

When you pull away, he follows you before stopping, making you smile.

You leave him sitting on the deck, smiling slightly to himself.

When he goes to stand up, he noticed a folded piece of paper you had tucked into the pocket of his waistcoat when you kissed him.

Unfolding the paper put another smile on Izzy's face, it was the sketch you had been working on only moments before.

He wondered how he could find the words to tell you that it's your image that should be immortalised through art, not his.

[whim-pr0ne]

SEASON FINALE SPOILERS

we were robbed.

you could tell they had to cram 3 episodes into the season finale. I thought maybe they would throw us a bone and make it at least an hour long but when I saw it was only 30 minutes I knew it was going to be rushed to shit.

they've also written it in a way that if it doesn't get renewed for another season then it still had an ending that made sense.

it hurts my heart that we didnt get three full episodes.

one exploring stede and eds separation.

one where Ed comes back and realizes how in love he is with stede- how much he regrets leaving on a whim. how badly he needs to find and rescue stede. (the look on his face when he sees the Republic on fire and he realizes that he wasn't there to protect stede like he has been doing since the beginning)

finally tying it up with the final episode where they are reunited and have to go through escaping the English, saving their family, losing izzy and finding themselves as a couple again.

it was so rushed when we were told it was supposed to be taken slow. I wanted to watch them fall in love again. Stede still doesn't feel like Stede where as Ed seems to finally have found himself as Edward instead of blackbeard. Stede hasn't hit that part where he realizes he can just be Stede as well. he's still trying too hard to be a pirate instead of his own brand of gentleman pirate as he saw it before. I mean we hear Ed say he loves him (for the first time out loud unless I'm forgetting somewhere before) and Stede says I know instead of i love you too (although I did read a good take on how that wasn't what Ed needed to hear in the moment, but by not saying it-- he doesn't feel like Stede if that makes sense) he's not the man from the beginning of the season. killing ned really set him into this manic episode and I don't think he's over it yet or that Ed realizes he's still going through it.

don't get me wrong the good parts were good. they gave us a lot of closure it just didn't do it the justice it deserved. I'm going to have to rewatch this episode a few times just to try and process everything happening so fast.

i really hope that we get another season and its slow and domestic and Stede is able to find himself again with Ed.

but also excuse me while I WEEP over izzy calling him Eddie and dying knowing he found his family 😭

anyone else just fucking sobbing when Ed is reading the letter from Stede and then just bursting out laughing at the "YOU WROTE ME A LOVELY LETTER"

and excuse me they TATTOOED EACH OTHERS NAMES ON THEMSELVES???? AND THEY'RE NOT EVEN GOING TO SHOW IT???? Bruh (edit: I have been informed that the line could be referring to the act of grace contract and not literal tattoos but I REALLY HOPE IT'S LITERAL TATTOOS)

also the part where zheng is listing off their titles and she barely pauses between her title and Ed still makes me giggle because it sounded like "The Great Pirate Queen Blackbeard" which is totally accurate.

when they rest of the crew left after izzy told Ed they were his family and they loved him 🥺 just for Ed to stay back with Stede and Izzy on shore

he's not ready to be with that family just yet. just the two people he considered to have actually known him

THE WAY ED LOOKED AT STEDE DURING THE WEDDING VOWS PL E A S E.

ugh I could go on forever I am BROKEN

we better get another season or two 😭 I don't want this to be the end. it feels rushed and unfinished

[dragonmuse]

Hey, that YAILY ask you answered a few anons back, how you mentioned you were trying to figure out how Izzy finds Read. "greasepaint is a bitch to get out of fabric" - what about Izzy tries taking it to dry cleaners, but "hmm, that kid on the other side of the street looks like they’re about to keel over-oh, never mind they did, welp, guess its hospital time. Hey eddy, I'm in the ER, no, no allergies, someone got stabbed. No, not me. anyway, how do feel about having a guest for dinner tonight?"

(ANON ANON YOU ARE A GENIUS! And anon who initially requested this, I hope this at last scratches the itch)

Fridays, Izzy picked up and dropped off the dry cleaning. He was so regular that they usually had it ready for him. The prices was generally astronomical thanks to a million kinds of fabric pressed against his work uniforms, but he paid it unthinkingly. Such was the way of his world.

"Sorry!" Marcus behind the counter called when he came in that day. "We've been overloaded this week, yours is ready, just buried. Give me five?"

Izzy nodded, turning to head back outside. It was a decent day and the smell of the dry cleaners was not a favorite. He cased the street idly. The kid that lingered by the convenience store was there again today. They'd appeared a week or two ago, not quite panhandling, but not refusing the few dollars that Izzy offered as he walked by either.

They were big, for all they folded down small. Smaller than last week. Hm. They were listing a little.

....and there they went. Shit. Izzy pushed off the wall, checked traffic, then hustled across the street.

He squatted down to their side,

"Hey," he said sharply, clearly. "You alive?"

No answer. Shit. He touched them gently, got a pulse and could hear them breathing. There was blood, he realized, soaking through the arm of their shirt at an astounding rate. Clinically, he took out his cell, punched numbers, jammed it between his shoulder and ear even as he got out his knife and started cutting away at their sleeve.

"What's your emergency?" A calm voice asked him,

"Hey, Barb, it's Izzy. I've got a fainter on Broadway, in front of the Sip and Go. Looks like blood loss I'm trying to get at the wound now."

"Why are you calling me?" Barb asked.

"It's my day off. Can I get a bus?"

"Lucky you, huh? Okay, I'm sending someone to your location. Do you know anything about them?"

He glanced at the face, broken nose definitely, along with a split lip.

"No, looks young, white. Underfed." He got the sleeve open and found a wicked, ragged wound. "Cut inflicted by something dull or went in dirty. They're going to need stitches, tetanus shot and probably a blood bag. Who's on duty?"

"Deb and Skunk are on their way to you."

"Great, thanks."

The cops always showed to scenes, but Deb and Skunk were a good smokescreen. They showed, got the kid on a stretcher and in the bus, Izzy still putting pressure on the wound until Skunk took over. The cops would get a bare bones statement later.

They didn't come to on the way to the hospital and being unconscious got you some privileges. They were whipped away past the waiting room. An hour later, one of the nurses that he knew well let him into the room.

"No ID," the nurse told him solemnly. "They've been sleeping rough, if I had to guess. There's a shelter that we can direct them too when they're up and about."

"Yeah, good," Izzy nodded.

Eddy: where'd you go to get the dry cleaning? Russia?

Izzy: in the er. not for me. kid passed out on the sidewalk. blood loss. must've been in a hell of a fight.

Eddy: you took them in?

Izzy: wasn't going to just leave them.

Eddy: ok. no dry cleaning?

Izzy: going to stay until they wake up at least.

That wasn't too long a wait. Eyelids fluttered open a few minutes later followed by a bone deep groan. Izzy waited until they'd sat up a little, oriented themselves.

"Am I in the fucking hospital?" they groaned.

"Yeah, that's what happens when you free bleed everywhere like a dipshit," Izzy leaned back in the chair, relieved that they seemed with it. "Who beat your face in?"

"I beat their face in," they said, a vicious undercurrent in their voice that he appreciated vastly.

"Got learn how to duck then."

"Who are you?" they asked warily.

"Lucky you, a bystander who moonlights as an EMT. Izzy Hands. You?"

"Read."

"You got somewhere to go home to, Read? Because the nurses are going to come back with pamphlets, tissues and questions."

They shifted, looked away.

"Sure I do."

"Uh huh."

He stayed while the nurses came in, then the doctors. Then the cops. He didn't say much. All he learned was her pronouns, and that she did not, in fact, have an address to provide. She gave nothing away about the fight and stonewalled them at every turn.

Izzy: she's homeless

Eddy: fuck, fine. I'll make the guest bed. where was all this sainthood in our twenties?

Izzy: drowned by the booze probably

Eddy: pickled. I'm leaving for the bar in an hour.

Izzy: probably miss you entirely then. see you on monday.

Read argued about going home with him right up until the nurse asked about calling a family member and then all of a sudden, Izzy was a dear family friend as it turned out. He had to leave to get the car and she was waiting in the parking lot when he got back.

"Grabbed your bag," he pointed in the backseat and relief passed over her face.

The further out they got, the tenser she went, but there wasn't much he could do for that. It was warm out, and the garden was in full bloom as he pulled up the drive. The sight of that seemed to ease her a little.

"This your work?"

"Nah, that's Eddy."

"Eddy is your..."

"Spouse. But they're with their boyfriend this weekend," he could generally say that in a neutral tone these days. Practice made mediocrity or something.

"Oh," Read settled on and followed him inside.

He got her set up in the guest room, pointed out the bathroom then made himself scarce. She falls asleep before he can get dinner into her.

Read haunted the house that weekend. He left food out for her, lets her maintain her space. He spent a lot of time outside. On Sunday, Lucius called and Izzy caught him up.

"You took in a stray?"

"Seemed like the thing to do," he meandered through the vegetable patch.

"Did it? Look at you. Very cute. What will you do with her?"

"Dunno if she'll let me do jack shit, but she needs help."

"She's staying, that means something."

Eddy came home on Monday morning in a great mood. She was singing to herself, and came to find him right away.

"Where's the girl?" Eddy wound an arm around Izzy's waist.

"In the guest room, probably," he stepped in closer.

Eddy kissed him, other hand sinking into his hair and Izzy just managed to switch off the burner before losing himself in it.

"Oh, shit, sorry," someone said and Eddy broke off with a soft sigh, turning.

"No worries," she shoved off Izzy, and held out a hand. "Eddy."

"Read," Read said tightly. "I was um. I'm going to-"

And she was gone.

"What the fuck?" Eddy glanced back at Izzy.

"No idea. She's skittish."

Skittish enough that Izzy caught her headed for the door later that night.

"You going to walk to town?" He asked from the couch and watched her jump about a foot in the air.

"Shit," she muttered.

"If you've got somewhere, I'll give you a ride," he offered mildly. "But otherwise that's a long fucking stumble in the dark."

"I can't stay," she lifted her pack a little.

"Why not?" Her eyes flicked up the stairs. "Eddy?"

Read looked at him miserably, not saying a word.

"Iz?" Eddy called down the stairs, "Where's the- oh! Never mind, found it."

"What about them?"

Read only shook her head, moved closer to the door.

"Shit, fine, hold on," Izzy got out his phone.

Group Text: THEM

Izzy: one twenty-something idiot needs temporary housing asap

Lucius: re-homing already?

Izzy: she doesn't want to stay, but it's us or the street so someone better pony the fuck up

Jim: she can stay on our futon

Roach: that's cruel and unusual punishment.

Jim: what about your place then?

Roach: fuck no.

Stede: It's not very large, but I have Alma's room if she'd like it.

Izzy hesitated, watched the way Read stood in the moonlight, ready to bolt. Not the fucking time.

Izzy: fine. we'll be there in an hour.

"Your lucky day," he told her, getting up. "Give me five. You've got a bed in the city."

"That's where I was headed," she said quietly. "I can get work there."

"Stede'll give you a job. And anything else your want if you turn those big blues on him. He's a fucking soft touch."

He went upstairs. Eddy was in their closet, putting away laundry.

"I saw the texts," they said, not looking up. "It's me, huh?"

"She's scared shitless of you," he agreed.

"Smart girl," she smoothed down the folds of a t-shirt, voice tight.

"Hey," Izzy stepped in closer. "Not like you did anything."

"No, I know," Eddy brushed hair back from her forehead. "Honestly, I didn't want her here anyway. But...still. Doesn't feel great."

"You'll win her over," Izzy said with certainty. "Everyone always winds up liking you better than me."

"That's cause you're an incurable asshole," she smiled at him touched his wrist. "But I think maybe not this time."

"Every time," he countered and kissed her cheek. "I'll drive her in."

Stede was waiting and Izzy could practically taste Read's relief at the sight of the man, about as threatening as a loofah. Izzy didn't bother telling her how dangerous Stede was in his own right. She needed to believe she was safe and she was. Good enough.

"You're not headed straight back home?" Stede frowned as Izzy lingered in the door, watching Read run a hand over the velvet couch.

"Yeah," he said readily. "I am."

"But-"

"Eddy," Izzy shrugged.

"Oh. Yes. I suppose..."

They stared helplessly at each other. It wasn't a bridge Izzy could bring himself to build, but once and a great long while, he appreciated looking over the valley anyway. To see someone else that had a general idea of the circumstance,

"Night, Bonnet. Night, Read."

"Good night," Read stepped towards him then stopped. "Thanks. For everything."

Izzy went home to crawl into bed with Eddy. He knew he was a living reminder of the past, but he could kiss her the way they did now. Be a reminder of the now too.

And he was right, of course. Eddy won Read over though it took months and a red head and the kind of night Izzy thought he'd never see again.

Read technically had a terrible little room that she would tell everyone was her home address, but after that, she lived scattershot between Bonnet's studio, Izzy and Eddy's house and sometimes even on Jim's terrible futon. It was only when Anne and her started both making a reasonable living that she genuinely had her own place. Even then, often she'd drive out on Izzy's bike (her bike now really, Izzy never needed it) and invade the kitchen for supper.

"Your kid is eating my leftovers," Eddy would inform him tartly when he got off a late shift.

"Uh huh," Izzy would laugh at her. "And you could've stopped her at literally any point."

"She was hungry," Eddy would grumble.

Read would make it up to them in the morning, weeding down rows of flowers tirelessly at Eddy's side. Izzy would watch them idly from the porch, Lucius sometimes there too, feet in Izzy's lap. The world was a strange and wonderful place some days.

[spikeymarshmallows]

wholeass Edizzy brain-dump that I posted into discord once, but I wanted to share with people, about subdrop, topdrop, all those very very fun and shitty emotions yayyyyy.

Just imagining they're maybe still just... fucking. or hell, they're together properly, and they've been doing kink shit for ages. and it's great and hot and fun.

They kiss all hot and nice just inside Ed’s door before they part ways for the day. Izzy has bruises across his butt and down his thighs. Ed had really gotten him worked up the night before, and they'd gone way harder than they had before. It had been so fucking hot, Izzy pleading pleading pleading, and Ed kept expecting Izzy to hiss in the way that Ed now knew meant "slow down, just a little, but don't fucking stop"--but it just never came. [he's not aware he's doing these mental checks, but there's a moment through the haze of INTENSE HORNY that he's like "....Is Izzy okay??" but nope, Izzy is doing amazing, this isn't a self-harm through kink thing, he's just SOARING]. Ed's arm is kinda sore from it, if he's honest with himself.

Maybe it was something about the constant prostate-milking-edging Ed was doing. Who knows, certainly not Ed. (certainly Ed. >:)))) )

Either way, they're both on their own highs the next morning. Deep, hard kisses before work that have Ed pushing Izzy up against the door, gripping the back of his thigh to swing his leg around Ed's hip, fuck fuck, no, no, we gotta stop, can't be late again or the crew are going to give him so much shit.

Izzy's on cloud fucking nine all morning. He keeps leaning on the railings of the ship in such a way that it'll press on his bruises, and he's so glad he’s got a good poker face about these kinds of things. He's kept his facial expressions under control, but he's definitely enjoying the bruises too much.

The tiredness starts to hit that afternoon, but that's fine. It IS afternoon and they had been up just past midnight fucking each other stupid.

Hmmm. He hopes Ed isn't too tired. He'd mentioned through a laugh that morning that his shoulder was sore from laying into Izzy so hard the night before. He'd laughed, kissing Izzy and calling him a needy little slut. Izzy had glowed, laughed, rubbed at Ed's shoulder and dug his thumbs in as Ed cuddled against his tummy. Ed had been tracing the edges of the marks that he could reach as they lounged that way.

Ed had laughed then, and Izzy had too. But... did Ed think he was needy? like, actually needy? Izzy knew he could be needy, but Ed had always said he liked that. He liked being wanted so much, that Izzy made him feel wanted and desired, that Izzy was always ready to jump on Ed's dick at a moment's notice, that he couldn't seem to get enough of Ed as Ed couldn't seem to get enough of Izzy. 

Okay, but... but... what if Ed did find him needy, and not always in the good way? Like, Izzy actually didn’t mind helping the crew out, particularly when some of them were absolute naturals and listened to everything Izzy said, actually took it on board. Izzy liked feeling like he was needed and wanted, that they respected him and his knowledge and experience, but... yeah, some days, he kinda wished they’d just run their fucking drills without needing him to watch their every move, could just do the shit they needed to do without being told all the time.

And Ed, Christ. Izzy loved Ed so much but he got annoyed at her needing him sometimes. Ed was constantly changing his mind, chasing after this whim and that, doing absolutely ridiculous shit. Sure, it always worked out, and it cemented just how brilliant Ed was to Izzy, but Christ alive, it annoyed the fuck out of Izzy some days.

....Ed and Izzy weren't even in love. Ed didn’t love Izzy the way Izzy loved him. Surely Ed got annoyed at how needy Izzy was.

Izzy just... he just wanted to know like, Ed wasn't mad at him. That he didn't think Izzy was annoying, and he'd had fun last night. God, what if Izzy had pushed him too far by continuing to ask for moremoremore? What if his arm was actually sore? It was funny that morning but maybe it was really bothering him today. Shit, that’d be just like him—Ed had started complaining about his knee a few months ago too—what if that was something Izzy had done too?

He kinda wanted to see Ed, then. Like, really badly. They hadn't made plans to see each other that night and Izzy had the last watch, but it was pretty normal for them to hangout about half the nights of the week. But... hmm. Jack had been sailing with them the previous few weeks; Ed hadn’t had a night alone in weeks. He probably wouldn’t mind a night alone, certainly didn’t need Izzy coming in with his… *emotions*. (he hadn't said as much, but Izzy knew.  ....Izzy didn't know, but okay, maybe he was spiralling a little bit, checking the same number of barrels in the hold over and over again, forgetting what his count was halfway through each time).

And anyway, poor Izzy is standing there, suddenly doubting everything. A thousand questions that really amounted to "am I too much???" swirling in his stressed lil head. 

He was clenching his jaw so hard that he was starting to get a headache behind his right eye. Ed always poked his jaw when he noticed Izzy doing that, sometimes laughed and used it as an excuse to shove his fingers in Izzy mouth. "Protecting your teeth, baby" he'd joke sometimes, pulling Izzy's cheek in weird directions, just to be a pest. Sometimes he'd use the fingers in his mouth for.... other purposes

anyway, Izzy spiralling. He goes back to his room.

For the first time in months, he doesn't breathe a sigh of relief when he shuts out the world.

He's usually SO GLAD when he gets to his room. He's spent all day around the crew and shit, and here he can just… relax. Enjoy the darkness, the quiet.

But now? The room is empty. and dark. It doesn’t feel safe. It feels… empty.

That's fine, Ed usually asks for him around sunset.

But the sun sets and he tenses, half-hopeful, every time he hears the sound of someone walking near his room. No knock comes.

Izzy changes out of his clothes, puts on his other set, these ones a little cleaner. The bruises look amazing, Ed will be thrilled. Knowing him, he'll probably rub against them gently, then the fucker will bite them because it's funny to watch Izzy huff and squirm. 

He's all clean now. But his stomach is tight and he's not hungry.

And nobody has knocked on his door.

Ed's probably just busy....

Or maybe he just needs a break from Izzy. Maybe he just needs a quiet night. Last night had been intense, and Izzy knew it took a lot out of Ed sometimes. Sometimes he needed to decompress. Months ago, when Izzy had heard him say that for the first time, and had made excuses to go. Ed had huffed and pulled him by the vest to sit his ass back down, Ed meant "decompress as in smoke with you, not be left alone with my own miserable thoughts".

Maybe he needs a break from Izzy.

That's fine.

Izzy is fine.

Eventually, someone opened his door—Ed never fucking knocked, and it didn’t usually bother Izzy, but tonight it fucking *did*. Izzy is sitting stiffly at his desk, trying to have a Normal and Relaxing Evening Damn It. He's picking at his dinner that he’d brought back to his room. 

He almost doesn't want to turn to look at him. He could show Ed he's all Independent. He doesn't rely on Ed for his comfort. Hell, he doesn't need comfort, he's strong and capable of taking care of his own emotions, thank you! Not to mention, if he needs to be comforted afterwards... Maybe Ed will go easier on him. And Izzy doesn't want that. Izzy wants to keep doing all the weird and intense shit they're doing. He wants to do more. Wants to go harder.

God. Does that make him a freak? Or more of a freak? He knew the stuff he liked was weird. He'd never tried it with any of the whores he'd slept with... He knew how the crew would talk if they *knew*. 

If what he liked was normal and okay, people wouldn't talk. If they knew Israel Hands, first mate to Blackbeard, the bastard they respected and feared, liked to bend over like this, *loved* the ways that Ed hurt him, brought him to his knees and degraded him… Well, they wouldn’t respect him anymore. If Izzy was the one giving the pain, it wouldn't be as big of a deal.

Shit.

He really did like some fucked up stuff, didn't he? What kind of person liked to be hit while having sex? What kind of person begged for harder hits across the backs of their thighs? What kind of person liked a little blood in their fucking, loved the burn and the ache? What kind of person came without permission when someone worked them up and *finally*, after what felt like hours, spat in their mouth? That was some real fucked up shit. God, and he sometimes... sometimes... when he was really far under... he'd call Ed "Daddy". Not always. He never meant to, it just... sorta.... slipped out.

But Izzy didn't even like his father! Gross! He'd never thought of his father that way, what the fuck!! So why did he sometimes call Ed "Daddy"?

Ed clears his throat.

Ed's there, acting all... fine. And Normal. He was thinking of going here, and the weather was perfect for it, shouldn’t take them more than a day or two, and sorry he hadn’t seen Izzy all day, there’d been endless distractions and drama from a few of those new blokes they’d picked up a few weeks back, anyway, did Izzy wanna hang out that night?

"Nah, I'm okay. I'm... gonna have an early night, I think."

"Oh. Yeah. That's fair. Totally cool, man." Ed sounds a bit funny. He doesn't sound relieved, like Izzy expects. "Tomorrow night then?"

"Uh, yeah. Maybe. I'll... I'm pretty tired, I'll have to see."

"oh. Yeah. Cool. That's cool."

SO. Izzy goes to bed early that night.

He does not sleep well.

Next day, much of the same. He's feeling brittle and fragile, and he's snapped at everyone, even Charlie, who is by far Izzy’s favourite crew member, and his head hurts because he slept like shit and he clenched his jaw real bad when he did. 

He hasn't heard from Ed. 

Sure, he hasn't gone to find Ed either. But he's trying not to be needy. He can handle his own feelings. 

....He just... he wishes he didn't feel so gross and disgusting for calling Ed "Daddy" in the heat of the moment. And did he have to cry just before he came? God, so pathetic. And Ed's shoulder was probably still fucked. Had Ed even had fun?? Had Izzy given him what he wanted from that? Like, sure, Ed had come (twice) but... was he just... humouring Izzy?

The day passes miserably. He keeps pressing his bruises, and biting his tongue when he does because it stops tears springing to his eyes.

Gross. He's going to cry again??? Well, that made him feel more pathetic. God, he was so stupid.

This whole thing was so stupid.

He goes back to his room.

When it comes time to eat, he struggles to swallow it, even though what Cook’s made is actually pretty decent. It keeps getting caught in his chest. 

Ed comes to his door again.

Ed launches into a story about his day, about this place Jack had said was worth a visit, that maybe they should consider getting a cat for the ship because there were rats, and Ed wondered if rats could be trained, and wouldn’t that be fucking cool, to train the rats to attack people, just set out a plank and the rats would take care of the rest, and yeah, actually, he was gonna try that, yeah, never mind the cat idea, this was way better.

Izzy hums as Ed talks, doesn't say anything. The tightness in his chest eases a little as Ed is talking to him the same way he always does. Ed doesn't... doesn't sound mad at him. He doesn't sound like he's sick of Izzy and thinks he's needy and gross and awful.

Eventually, Ed stops for a breath, exhales heavily. "Shit, sorry, I've been talking at you for like... fifteen minutes straight. Don't think I took a breath there."

"You gasped just before you asked if rats could be trained to attack for you." Izzy feels miserable, but a tiny tiny smile tugs at the corner of his mouth as he says that. 

"Oh cool, okay, one breath in fifteen minutes, that's not bad, right? Reckon I could make a decent swimmer, Izzy? S’longer than you, I reckon." 

"ha."

Ed's voice gets softer, gentler. "How're you feeling? Sleep okay last night?" 

Izzy swallows. He wants to bite out some excuse, find some way to end this conversation, before he can annoy Ed. 

He must be silent for longer than he thinks. 

"Iz?" 

Ed so rarely calls him that, unless he's trying to annoy him. Sometimes he'll call him that after Izzy calls him "Daddy" too... 

"Um. No, I didn't really sleep well." Izzy finally chokes the words out. He's impressed at how normal he sounds. That sounded normal, right??

Ed is silent for a long moment. "Hey, uh. Wanna crack into that fancy wine we got last week?" Something is off in his voice. 

Izzy's gut drops. 

This is it. Ed is going to end things. He wants to soften the blow on Izzy with liquor. 

Izzy wants to make up an excuse, a reason why he can't, but his ears are roaring and he's gonna be sick. Eventually he agrees, light and easy.

Izzy doesn't know what to do with himself, says he’ll go get the wine so Ed can get comfortable. 

He takes a swig of it as he makes his way back to Ed’s cabin. Another one just before he knocks on Ed’s door.

Ed looks good, legs propped up on the desk. God, he always looks good. Nervous, a bit hesitant. 

"Hey."

"Hey." 

Izzy doesn't think to move to let him inside.

"Uh, wanna come in?" Ed asks eventually. 

"Oh. Right. Yeah. Sure."

Izzy stands helplessly just inside the door. Ed’s standing, and Izzy doesn’t know if he should sit down across the desk, or if they should go sit on Ed’s bed; they often sprawl there, but usually much later in the night. Besides, Izzy isn’t there for… for *that* tonight… This is… This is the end.

Izzy isn't sure conversation between the two of them has ever been so stilted. Eventually, Izzy sets the wine down on Ed’s desk, pours them both a drink.

When he turns around, Ed is standing an arms length away, looking so sad. 

"Can I... hug you?" Ed asks tentatively. 

fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck. This is it. He's gonna hug Izzy, try to soften the blow, surely. 

Izzy nods mutely, even though he wants to be sick. 

The hug is awkward, and Izzy's arms feel wooden as he rests his hands on Ed's hips. He keeps expecting Ed to let go. Ed doesn't. Instead, he takes a big breath in... exhales long and slow. 

And Izzy doesn't know what happens, but something in him just breaks.

He squeezes his eyes shut, trying so hard to stop the stupid tears. He pushes away from Ed, or tries to. Ed lets out a little sound that could almost be described as "wounded". He pulls Izzy back in. 

Izzy is shaking, and trying so so hard to keep it together. He's trying so goddamn hard and Ed is just holding him, and it's so stiff and weird, and Izzy is going to fucking break if Ed doesn't let go of him soon, he needs to get out of there, but Ed is still holding him and--

"hey, hey, it's okay...." Ed is murmuring against the spot where his jaw and ear meet. "I'm here, I've got you." 

And Izzy isn't crying, but he can't stop shaking, and his knees feel weak and standing is so hard and Ed is trying to pull them back towards the bed, not letting go of him.

Izzy isn't really sure how they make it those few steps, but Ed is pulling him onto the bed, shifting him so that Izzy is basically cradled against him, his legs thrown over Ed's thighs. The whole time, his other arm doesn't leave Izzy's shoulder, not until they're settled on the edge of the bed. Izzy can't stop shaking, and fuck he's crying now, not a lot, but he's sniffling and his nose is stuffy, and he can't quite breathe right. And Ed is just holding holding holding him. 

"It's okay, I'm here. It's okay, I'm here. You're okay. You're safe. You're so good, Iz. You're so fucking good."

And it's so stupid, it's so fucking stupid, but every time he thinks he's hit the final breaking point, he splinters again. Ed just keeps holding him, and saying sweet words and kisses his temple and now his hands are running through Izzy's hair, blunt but calloused fingertips running over his scalp.

Izzy expects to sob. He feels like his chest is cracking open, and he's still wanting to be sick. But he doesn't sob. Tears just start running down his cheeks, and they won't stop. He's given up (for the moment) trying to push Ed away, Ed's grip on his shoulder is so tight, it's almost like Ed needs to hold Izzy as much as Izzy needs to be held. 

Ed keeps pressing kisses to the side of his head, the top of it, holding Izzy harder even than the way Ed holds him down and fucks him. 

Izzy finally manages to get a hold of his emotions, is able to somewhat stem the tears. Afterall, if Ed is here to end things.... he... he'd rather get it over with.

"Sorry," Izzy chokes, sitting up a little more and furiously rubbing at his leaky eyes with the heels of his palms. "I dunno what's wrong, just. It's stupid." He laughs, but it's empty. 

Ed narrows his eyes at him. "Izzy..."

Izzy gives a tight smile, shifts back a little to put some space between them. "Sorry, shouldn't have done that. But uh, thanks?" 

Ed is looking at him weirdly. "What?" 

Izzy shakes his head quickly, as if he's shaking off the sadness, the tears. He smiles, or tries to. "Sorry, um. Why'd you want the wine? Do you... need to talk about anything?"

Ed blinks. "I... should I... not? Want the fancy wine?" 

"Well, I dunno. I just wanna say... I've... appreciated. Everything we've done. And everything you've shown me. It was... uh. Really cool."

Really cool. Wow. What a ringing endorsement. 

Ed blinks again. The silence stretches.

"What the fuck is going on?" Ed asks, voice almost squawking the way it does whenever he's mad or confused.

Izzy isn't sure what to say. How to word it. Words aren't his thing, those are Ed's. He wishes Ed would just start the whole "hey, it's been really great what we've been doing but...." 

But Ed isn't saying that. He's just looking confused, annoyed--oh god, he's looking annoyed. Any of the warm feelings Izzy hadn't even known were filling him dropped back to ice. Ed was annoyed at him. Fuck. Shit. Fuck, shit. 

"I'm sorry," Izzy finally says, closing his eyes. 

"For what?" 

"I..." 

Before Izzy can fumble his way through more words, Ed is yanking him forward again and pulling him back into Ed's arms.

This time Izzy sobs.

Two days--in many ways, it feels like two decades--worth of tears start forcing their way through his chest and throat. He's crying, snotting against Ed's shirt, and the sounds he's making are so gross and big and ugly, and Izzy hates it, and hates that they won't stop, and that he just feels so stupid, and weak, and pathetic, and stupid, and pathetic, and needy, and fucked up and broken. 

He barely realises it but he's just saying he's sorry, over and over and over, and Ed is holding him, rocking him a little, telling him every time that it's okay, it's all okay, he promises. 

Ed's lower back must be hurting him because he shifts them further up the bed when Izzy calms for a brief moment. Ed still won't let go, just lies back against the blankets and pulls Izzy against him, keeps Izzy against him by wrapping both legs tightly around him.

When Izzy finally calms, his head is throbbing. And Ed is still there. Ed pushes up a little, pushes until he's sitting. Holds Izzy's face in both of his hands, wiping the damp hair at his temples, wiping the tears that keep leaking down Izzy's sore face, presses kisses to his forehead and lips. 

"Oh Iz," Ed whispers, pulling him back in. "I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry."

Through tears, Ed finally coaxes words out of Izzy. How shitty he's felt the past two days. How gross and awful he feels. How, fuck, how he wishes his stupid mouth hadn't told Ed that because he loves what they do and he doesn't want them to stop just because he's feeling gross. How he hates how fucked up he is. 

....How he's sure Ed is here to end things with him. How he's sure Ed thinks he's a pest, and Izzy's stupid feelings of being gross and fucked up are a bother.

And Ed is just so very "what in the actual fuck??? Ending what we do???? are you insane? Did I hit you too hard the other night? We have rules against anything hitting your face or head for a reason, but did I somehow do it accidentally??" He probably doesn't have the language to know about "drop" per se, but he totally knows the feelings that Izzy is talking about. How sometimes he'll crawl into bed, stare off into space, wonder what the fuck is wrong with him that hitting someone gets him so fucking hard. How seeing those marks on Izzy, hearing him cry out in pain makes Ed feel lightheaded with power and arousal. Like, he knows he's fucked in the head, but yeah, he always feels kinda shitty after they do this stuff. But after a few days, he's usually okay again. He usually tries to see Izzy as much as he can the few days after, because it comforts him. Izzy is always so fucking happy to see him, and usually still glowing from the fuckery they got up to. And it's harder to condemn himself, to hate himself, when Izzy seems so delighted at what they do. Izzy doesn't hate him for doing dark, fucked up stuff to him. Ed isn't evil, or a monster. Izzy still likes him.

And he tells Izzy all of his... admits he feels a bit weird and clingy... how he's always asking to see Izzy every night for a few nights after they've gone hard. Yeah, he knows it's not super badass pirate of him, but like, the day after Izzy called Ed "Daddy" for the first time, Ed had had a panic attack about What That Said About Him and whether he was even worse than his dickhead of a dad. 

Once the adrenaline has worn off, he always beats himself up. And he feels bad that he hasn't told Izzy all this, but he didn't want Izzy to think he didn't like what they did. He just sometimes needed a few days to feel okay again. He didn't want to stop what they did, and he always worried that if he told Izzy about these feelings, maybe Izzy would want to stop. Izzy was always so soft and doting with him, didn't like Ed to suffer, which, by the way, Ed found totally adorable.

so. YAY. Communication. Izzy curls against him and cries a little more, and Ed keeps telling him he's so good, he's so good, he's amazing and, he loves him, and----

shit.

well, he hadn't meant that. wait, no, like, he meant it. he just... hadn't meant to tell Izzy yet, because... like, as he said, weird and clingy, and he knew Izzy liked him but.... Ed was probably seeing something that wasn’t there and---

Izzy kisses him, shuts Ed's anxious ramblings up. Whispers he loves him too.

It's not the sexiest either of them have ever felt. But they're soon peeling off clothes, and pressing into Izzy, and it's sweet and gentle at first, but then Ed's fingers brush over the bruises at the back of Izzy's thighs when he goes to move Izzy's leg higher around his waist, and... Izzy gasps and hisses. Ed grins, digs his fingers in a little, enjoying the sounds Izzy makes and the way he tightens around Ed like that... 

And yeah, they'll definitely have to talk more later, but they're at least being honest with each other about how they feel after these things and want to continue and maybe next time... well, next time, they make plans to see each other for the next few nights. Just in case.

[duffslut]

Pretty tied up

Modern Izzy stradlin x Reader

My Masterlist.

Word Count: 728

Requested by: hi! Can you write an imagine or something about older Izzy and y’all have quite a bit of an age difference and so when you go hang out with your freind group, which has boys included, he gets jealous..

Warnings: Smut. Minors Dni.

- What clothes are these? - Izzy asked while watching you get ready in your room.

You rolled your eyes turning to him while adjusting your necklace.

- Baby you bought it for me!

You said, approaching him while turning around to show him your outfit.

- I bought it for you to use with me.

Izzy wrapped his hands around your hips and pulled you into him but you walked away and got your bag on the bed ready to go out with your friends.

- Don't be so jealous love, I'm yours, okay?

You could see that Izzy wasn't convinced about letting you go out, especially knowing that there were guys your age in your group of friends, and that Izzy was pretty much older than all of them, which obviously didn't bother you, but it was one of the reasons Izzy was so possessive of you.

You got home later than you expected, you opened the door as quietly as you could and entered the house, taking off your heels in case Izzy was sleeping. You entered your room cautiously and jumped with fright when you saw Izzy by the door, a belt in his hands, as if he was waiting for you.

Your head was still spinning from a few drinks you'd had when you leaned into your boyfriend for a hug, which he didn't return.

- I missed you so much - you said, leaving kisses on the icy skin of his neck and moving up to his face.

Izzy didn't move, not even when her lips touched theirs in need of a kiss from him.

- By the time you arrived it doesn't look like you missed me that much.

You froze. Fuck. You had completely forgotten about the time.

- Babe...

You tried to talk but Izzy interrupted you and walked away from you.

- Bed. - He said.

You slowly removed your arms from around him and walked over to the bed, with your gaze still locked on his, your heart starting to pound as Izzy approached you with the belt in his hands.

- You know what to do, give me your hands.

You stretched your arms up and closed your eyes tightly as Izzy tied the belt around your wrists, secretly liking that he would take out his jealousy on you.

- I bet your stupid friends don't do that to you do they? you don't need them babe, you have me...

Izzy climbed on top of you, making you let out a hoarse groan as his erection touched your body and you could feel how hard he was.

You stared into Izzy's eyes burning with lust as you felt your panties start to get wet, his hands quickly opened the buttons of your top leaving your tits exposed. He went straight to grab your boobs, squeezing them tightly as he rubbed his hard cock against your belly.

Izzy lifted your skirt and pushed your panties aside, making your body shudder at the sudden exposure, you were already moaning like a bitch before Izzy even got inside you, his throbbing cock slid from your clit to your entrance, without penetrating you and making you whimper while your pussy juice wet his cock.

You almost came when Izzy just stuck the head of his cock inside you and pulled it out quickly, returning to your clit and slamming his hard cock against your pussy. You were whimpering like a baby, trying to free your hands from the belt Izzy had tied, but every time you tried to loosen it, it just seemed to get tighter.

- Did I tell you to stop looking at me?

You turned your gaze to Izzy who just seemed to be having fun with your despair, the friction of his cock touching your clit was pushing you to the limit and you knew you couldn't take it much longer.

You started moaning his name as you twisted your body on the bed, you did everything you could to get his dick inside you, but Izzy seemed to want to torture you.

You didn't look away from his as he calmly brought his face to yours, placing kisses on your cheek and guiding his lips to your ear.

- If you cum I won't fuck you and you'll spend the rest of the night tied up. - Izzy whispered in your ear and you felt hot tears roll down your cheeks.

[ubernoxa]

The Dare: A Guns N’ Roses Fanfiction

Chapter 35: Bring Her Home

(Masterlist)

Pairing: Duff Mckagan/OC

Story Summary: A stupid harmless dare, that’s all it was supposed to be. It was supposed to be something they would do, and never revisit. For Delilah, little did she know that visiting the strip wasn’t going to be a one time thing when she made the choice to accept the dare. Life is full of choices. Some choices can mean absolutely nothing, while others can change your entire world. Delilah had heard many rumors about the Sunset Strip or Devil’s Strip. Teenagers would whisper stories about how the Devil walks the streets of the strips without a care in the world. It was known as a place untouched by God. After years of hearing rumors about the Devil’s Strip, Delilah wants to see it for herself. Thus a Dare was born.

Chapter Summary: Mags finds out Duff and Delilah had sex, and Mark finally gets the nerve to pop the question.

Taglist: @gingerspicetalks @str4nge-haze @queen-crue @dustnbones

It was cold.

Everything was cold.

Even the sunlight that shined through her apartment windows was cold.

Her eyes quickly scanned the room, and the only thing that changed from the night before was that Tonya was most likely in her room, fast asleep. A state Mags envied.

As if Mags was on autopilot, she took a shower and got dressed for the day. She was still mad at her brother, but she still sprinted towards the bus stop not wanting to miss the bus that would take her to her brother’s apartment. Not only did she have some food she wanted to drop off, but she also wanted to check up on Del.

She adjusted her jeans as she sat on the hard plastic seat watching the bus shoot through traffic. Part of her wondering the entire trip how the bus drives didn’t get into an accident. It was borderline impressive.

“Morning Mags,” Mags turned to see a familiar blonde smiling at her.

“Hey, Sasha! What’s up?” Mags would describe Sasha more as an acquaintance than a friend, but Mags always puts on a smiling face. Like her brother says, it’s a lot better to spread happiness than make enemies.

After several minutes of casual small talk, Mags began to get the sense that there was something Sasha wanted to ask. There was something lingering in the girl’s eyes, and when the conversation began to die off, Sasha always kept it going. Mags knew something was up, and hoped it wasn’t about the stupid article. She was in no mood to deal with talking about how the bastard got her pregnant.

But sure enough, only a few moments later, Mags paranoia was proven right.

“So if you want, I’m having a big party...we’ll Christian my...boyfriend...is having a party at his place this Saturday, and I’d love to see you there...unless you know….it might be weird because...of the...whole pregnancy thing,” Mags took a deep breathe as it took every ounce of her sanity to not punch Sasha. Mags wasn’t Axl, she wasn’t him by a long shot. Unlike him she could control her temper, or atleast that is what she told herself.

“The pregnancy thing? Ohh you mean that bullshit article? Girl that was full of lies! What he chose not to mention was that I broke his heart because he wasn’t my type,” Mags let out a fake laugh to try to cover the lie that rolled off her tongue.

Was she going to admit she was pregnant to Sasha? No.

Was she going to admit that Drew, the man who wrote the article, shattered her heart into a million pieces? No.

Why? Because that’s not who Mags Adler was.

“Oh my god! The fucking bastard! I tell ya, the media only wants a story that sells their magazines. It’s despicable that they don’t think about how the lies they are telling are going to affect the people. Like I bet that Stef girl who is dating your brother never said how he wouldn’t make it. And oh that Del girl, I bet she does more than fawn over Duff and be his groupie. Like the girl has to have a life. I should have known this were off when the article framed Trixy as a good person. She is a fucking bitch,” Mags nodded and smiled as Sasha spoke.

The truth was Del really didn’t have much going for her besides the fact that she was in love with Duff. Of course Del had hobbies, but none that paid the bills which was a discussion for another day. Mags tried not to think of it, but Del was turning into a groupie. She quickly reassured herself that Del technically wasn’t a groupie Del wasn’t going around having sex with Duff, but little did she know what Del did last night and into the morning.

Part of Mags wondered if Stef actually said what she said. There were parts of the article that were true, but it was also filled with lies. Did she mean it when she said her brother was going now where? Mags knew with her whole heart that Stef adores Steven, but there was a small pit in her stomach that said otherwise. Mags tried connecting the dots on my Stef had been making excuses and events for Mags to go to that happened to be on the same days as concerts, but there wasn’t any connection. It just didn’t make sense.

“So I’ll see you on Saturday?” Sasha asked, pulling Mags from her train of thought.

“Maybe? My brother is playing a gig, but maybe after?” Mags offered the girl a soft smile as she saw her stop coming,

“Yeah, we will be partying till sunrise! Feel free to bring friends! Chriantian’s place is huge and there will be a live band!” Sasha smiled before Mags pulled the cord asking for the bus driver to stop.

It was only a 10 block walk for Mags, one she had gotten used to over the years. She kept her head high as she took in the peaceful strip. It was weird seeing it like this, but at 8 AM in the morning this was to be expected. Mags would admit that she appreciated the silence over the cat calls. She figured that one of the few benefits of being pregnant was that once she started to show she would get fewer cat calls.

Once inside the apartment, the smell of a cooking kitchen hit her like a truck. Eggs, onion, peppers, and paprika filled her nose causing a smile to grow on Mag’s face. Del was awake!

She froze as she saw the tall blonde over the stove instead of little Del.

“Hey Mags, how’s it going? Are those apples for breakfast?” Duff casually asked as he continued cooking, as if this was a normal occurrence. Mags placed the bag of apples on the table trying to make the confused look that grew on her features.

“What’s wrong Mags? Did you think those were oranges or something?” Mags shot her attention to Izzy who was sitting at the table. Mags wanted to slap the smirk off his face, but she knew that would only get her kicked out of the apartment, and if she was going to be kicked out it was going because she slapped Axl.

“Those are red apples to be exact,” Mags ignored Duff’s comment and placed the apples in the one of the few bowls that was at the apartment. It was a actually her bowl, but after a month of fruits rolling off the table, she figured they needed it more than her.

“Where is Del?” Mags asked quickly looking around the kitchen and their sad excuse for a common area.

“Still sleeping, she had a busy night,” Duff casually said, earning a snicker from Izzy.

Mags froze in place as she heard Duff’s comment.

“Did you fuck my roommate?” Duff was taken aback by Mag’s tone. She seemed agitated. What did she care? They were two consenting adults. Plus he would barely count Del as Mags roommate since she slept with him most nights.

“What does it matter-“ Mags cut Duff off before he could continue talking.

“I asked, did you fuck my roommate? It’s a yes or no question?”

“It’s none of your fucking business what I did between me and my grilfriend. Fun fact Mags, you can’t control everyone. Del isn’t your puppet,” Duff shot back, making sure to keep quiet so he wouldn’t wake Del.

In another room, Del remained frozen in Duff’s bed using his only blanket to hide her naked body. She tried to make sense of the emotions that were currently flowing through her.

Regret wasn’t the right word. She loved Duff, and from what she knew, she wanted to spend the rest of her life with him.

Pride was also wrong. She wasn’t proud of losing her virginity. It was something she was taught her entire life to protect and save until marriage. Having sex was sacred.

It wasn't that she wasn’t happy, but she also wasn’t sad. She possibly felt more content than happiness or sadness.

Shame, was another word that filled her head. Shame was the word that she felt right for her. She was ashamed that she had gotten so tipsy that she lost her virginity to the man she loved.

“Hey, you okay?” Del rolled over towards Slash as he spoke.

“Yeah...just trying to figure out how to get out of this pickle. I feel kinda…..”

“Gross?” Slash finished Del’s sentence earning a nod from the girl.

“I wouldn’t recommend putting your clothes from last night on, they’re probably still wet. I can grab a shirt from Duff’s stuff to help you cover up,” Del nodded at Slash’s kind offer, but before Slash could get up to help Duff walked into the room.

“And this is my cue to leave. I believe Duff has this under control,” Del shot Slash a quick smile as he headed out of the room to enjoy some breakfast. For the first time, Slash was kind to her. Usually he just existed in the room she was in and never truly interacted with her, but now...now he was kind.

Izzy’s words echoed through Duff’s head as he joined Del on his bed. He had to be slow and gentle with her.

“How are you feeling,” Duff played with her hair as he spoke, watching the curls bounce as he dropped them.

“I’m sore, and I feel gross,” this caught Duff off guard as a frown flashed across his face.

“Like you regret it,” Duff let a sigh escape him. Fuck, Izzy was right.

“No, I don’t regret it. I regret the fact that you don’t have a nice shower though,” Del teased back in attempt to make him smile. It worked, and she felt her heart flutter as a smile formed and she guided him gently ontop of her.

“Ohh is someone ready for round two?” A cocky smirk was placed across the bassist’s features as he hovered over Del.

Del let out a soft chuckle before shaking her head no.

“I’m still sore Duffles,” she cupped his chin as she watched a smirk cross his features. This was a view Duff would do anything to see. His small little Del, under him in full view.

“Did you...did you make breakfast?” Del asked, trying to change the scene that had unfolded in front of her.

“Yeah, and Mags brought apples,” Del smiled at the mention of Mags. It was good to hear that she left the apartment.

“How...how tense is it out there?”

“Well Steven is asleep, and Mags came in with a bitchy attitude so pretty tense?” Del was caught off guard by Duff’s tone. Del knew she should have said something, stand up for Mags but she remained silent. Something was wrong, and Del didn’t want to add more fuel to the fire.

“Is everything...okay?” Del asked as Duff climbed off her and dug through his bag and handed her on of his shirts. She knew he wasn’t mad at her, but she still wanted to know why he was pissed.

“Yeah,” Duff’s one world answer irked Del, but she quickly brushed it off.

“Come one Duffles, you can tell me anything,” Del quickly got out of bed and walked over towards Duff. As the words escaped her lips, she laced her fingers into his shoulder length hair.

“Why don’t you go fuck yourself Axl!” Del dropped her hand from Duff’s hair and snapped her attention towards the kitchen. She couldn’t see a thing since the door was closed, but she recognized who the screaming was coming from.

Del turned back towards Duff to see a scowl had formed on his face. In attempt to lighten the mood, she said “Mags knows that there is probably a line of people who are waiting for Axl to go fuck himself.”

This earned a small smile from the blonde and Del quickly got dressed in Duff’s shirt he handed her.

“Duff, can I borrow some shorts too?”

Del froze as Duff's laughter filled the room.

“I love you Delly, but my shorts are going to be a little too big on you,” Duff teased back, earning a playful eye roll from the girl. He wasn’t wrong, Del looked like a twig compared to Duff.

She threw Duff’s shirt on and followed him out to some breakfast. Her stomach rumbled as the smell of a freshly cooked breakfast drowned her senses.

“Good morning lovebirds!” Slash bellowed as Duff guided a slowly moving Del into the kitchen.

Izzy and Slash shared knowing looks as they watched how slowly Del was walking. They were defiantly going to tease Duff about this later, once Del wasn’t in the room.

Duff and Del sat down at the table joining the rest of the band minus Axl. Del figures he was probably in his room either lying on his bed or drawing in attempt to calm himself down. She wished there was something she could do to help, but she wasn’t in the position to do that at the moment.

“Thanks, Izz! It smells amazing,” Del said as Izzy placed a plate of eggs in front of her.

“Hey! I’m the one who made it!” Laughter echoed through the tiny apartment as Duff spoke.

“It tastes delicious,” Del said before kissing him on the cheek.

Axl was the last to join the group. He almost froze as he sat down as he saw Del at the table. Her hair was a curly mess that framed her features perfectly. To Axl, she looked like an angel in his shirt that she was practically swimming in. He had forgotten that he gave that old shirt to Duff a month or so ago, and now after seeing Del wear it part of him wished he had kept it.

Feeling Axl’s stare, and immediately misinterpreting it why he was staring, Del quickly spoke, “Ohh...I can..I can eat in another room..if you guys want to have a band meeting. I can go eat with Mags..wherever she went off to.” Del began to look around left and right to see where her friend went.

“Mags left. She just stopped by to drop off some food,” Del knew that Mags didn’t leave by choice. By the tone in Steven’s voice she knew that Mags was kicked out.

“You’re not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me now..like it or not,” Duff whispered into Del’s ear earning a sweet smile to cross her lips.

——————-

“Come on Beth, we are almost there and then you can take the blindfold off,” Mark said as he guided the blindfolded girl through the church basement. His heart was racing a million miles per a minute, and he couldn’t believe he was going to finally do it. He was going to propose to her. He felt giddy, excited, and nervous all at the same time. He had finally found the right moment to propose to her.

“It smells amazing! Are you sure we are still in the church?” Beth asked as Mark guided her to sit down.

“Yes, and you can take off your blindfold,” Mark couldn’t help, but smile as Beth remained silent as she took in the room.

The first thing she noticed was that the room was illuminated by candles instead of the ugly yellow lights that traditional illuminated the room. The second was the rose petals on the floor. The third wwas photos taped to the wall.

“5,110 days….that’s how long I’ve known you. We met when we were 5 years old. I am going to be honest, but I don’t remember much from back them. This though….this memory I will always remember,” Mark pointed at the first picture that he had tape in the wall only a few hours ago.

Beth let out a giggle as she stared at the photo. It was of Beth and Mark covered in flour. Their smiles were large as they posed for a photo which Beth assumes Mark’s mother took the photo since from what she remembered her own mother wasn’t to pleased with the situation at the time.

“It was in the middle of a small bible study, and we were being read from one of those children’s bibles with the large colorful photos. You wanted some cookies for a snack and after begging…..” Beth began to say.

“I didn’t beg!” Mark playfully shot back.

“No you begged because I remember Delilah teased you for a month about it!” Mark shook his head trying to hide his giggle at Beth’s comment, but she was right.

“Anyway, after you harassed the poor book reader he finally said you could go and grab some cookies from the kitchen, but you couldn’t go alone so I had to go with you. Anyway we ended up in the kitchen, but there were no cookies. So we decided to make some….and….” Beth couldn’t contain her laughter as the memories of how poorly their cooking went filled her head.

“I was grounded for a week,” Mark added smirking.

“A week? I was grounded for two months! Delilah and I couldn’t play because of it,” Beth playfully hit him as he spoke.

“I’m assuming I follow the rose petals?” Beth asked as she followed the rose petals towards the next photo. She smiled at the thought of celebrating her four month anniversary with Mark looking through old photos.

Mark nodded and they walked down the rose petal path looking at photos that ranged from their first day at school to after school activities.

“I still think you look good it Delilah’s hot pink tutu,” Beth said as they looked upon a picture taken from one of the talent shows.

“I think my rendition of the sugar plum fairy gave her cute little dance a run for its money,” Mark smiled as Beth’s laughter filled the room. They were just 12 years old when that photo was taken, and even back then he wore the tutu and jokingly danced around like a fool to make Beth laugh.

“Which one is your favorite?” Beth asked as they walked in front of the 12th photo.

“The last one,” Mark smiled as he purposely focused on the picture. If he looked at her he would cry because the last one was going to be a special memory.

“And which one is that?”

“You’ll have to wait and see,” Mark sneakily replied earning an eye roll from Beth.

The next photo was from their eight grade graduation. Beth, Delilah, Mark, and Matt were posing in front of the church holding their little diplomas in the air with the pride of a college graduates who had just earned their doctorates in advanced medicine.

“Do you remember how much of a fuss you were making because the cap flattened you hair,” Beth smiled as she pointed at the picture.

“Do you know how many photos my mother took that day? My brothers would still be making fun of me if I looked bad in those photos!”

“Ohh Mark...they make fun of you anyway,” Beth teased before she headed towards the next photo. It was from Halloween when they were 15.

“Do you remember when Delilah was told she couldn’t be Tinker Bell because Tinker Bell was inappropriate?” Beth asked as she looked at the photo.

“If I remember right it was because Tinkerbell promotes sin because she was a needy attention hog or something like that?”

“And how Delilah was so busy complaining that she forgot to tell her mother what she actually wanted to be for Halloween, so she went as a princess,” Mark couldn’t help but laugh at the memory of Delilah.

“Then Matt kept telling people she was the princess from the princess and the pea. How would warm the people who handed out candy that Delilah was cranky because she didn’t get a lot of sleep the night prior because of a pea under her mattress,” Mark and Beth’s laughter once again filled the room before heading onto the next photo.

After 20 more minutes of reminiscing on other photos, Mark guided Beth towards a room filled with even more flower petals and a candle. Beth smiled as the smell of roses engulfed the room. The small room had a table and some tables and chairs pushed against the walls with a large mirror in the center. Beth could tell that he tried to hide what the room actually was, but she recognized it. This is the room where Matt, Mark, Delilah, and her would hang out every day.

“Mark, I know you didn’t intend for this to be creepy, but I’m getting horror movie vibes,” Beth half joked as she looked around the room.

“Where is the photo?” Beth added while continuing to look around the room.

“Come,” he held both of Beth’s hands and stood in front of the mirror. Beth was hesitant, but let him guide her out of curiosity.

“Beth, from the moment I met you I knew I wanted to spend the rest of my days with you. Whether it was getting in trouble for attempting to make cookies or just spending time with you on that ugly floral couch, I love spending every moment with you. I feel like I can be my true self when I’m with you,” Mark felt the nerves come back as he spoke.

“I love you too,” Beth smiled as she squeezed his hands tight.

“Beth Marie Jacob,” Beth gasped as she watched him get down on one knee.

“This afternoon we reminisced over some of my favorite memories for every year I have known you,” Mark pauses as he watched tears of happiness slowly flow down Beth’s face.

“Will you make one more memory with me tonight?” Mark pulled out the small box he had kept in his pocket for the past month.

“Will you Beth Marie Jacob marry me?” Mark’s heart stopped as the words escaped his lips. A sliver of fear slipped into his thoughts that she would laugh at him or say no.

“Yes! Ohh God yes, I love you,” The tears now began to stream down her face as Mark put the ring on her finger, and kissed her.

“I love you too!” Mark spun her around causing her to fill the room with her giggles and screams of joy.

Once they let go of each other they turned and stared into the mirror.

“I think this is my favorite memory too,” Beth smiled as she continued to look at her and Mark.

Mark watched as a frown quickly formed on her face.

“What?” Mark pulled Beth in close attempting to comfort her.

“I just...I wish Delilah was here to share this memory with us,” Beth spoke no louder than a whisper.

In that moment, Mark kissed Beth’s forehead and made up his mind. He was going to go to Sunset Strip and bring Delilah home, no matter what.

[xxisxxisxxis]

La fin

Inspired by this ask.

Present day Duff and Vivian reflect on their romantic relationship

I sat down with my best friend to discuss our affair for the first time in 26 years…and gain a final piece of closure the two of us have yet to attain from one another. 

"This is gonna be interesting because both of our spouses are here." I say as I sit down, at my kitchen bar and Duff takes a sip of his water before joining me.

"Nah, Su's as cool as a cucumber. We got this." He replies. "...I don't know about Sixx but me, you and Su can handle it." He teases. 

"If you get war flashbacks, baby, just remember you're sober." I tell Nikki and he chuckles. 

"I'll just go to the bathroom and sing 'Kumbaya'." Nikki adds and Susan laughs. 

"It won't be that bad." She assures him. "I got my waterproof mascara on. I'm ready." 

"I'm getting through this without crying." I state.

"You cry over google commercials, Viv." Duff informs me.

"Because they know how to market. This happened…" I have to do the math. "...thirty-two and a half years ago. I won't cry." 

"Okay, well, just in case, I came prepared." Susan tosses me a pack of Kleenex. 

"Thank you." I say to her, doubting I'll need it.

"I'm about to start the camera." Nikki tells us, going to press start on the camera he's got set up to film this. "Oh, it's already started." He states. 

"It's okay, people won't care." I shrug, taking a sip of my Pepsi. "Okay, Hey, Guys." I say to the camera. "This is a very special occasion because I'm here with my best friend, and the father of my first child, Michael Andrew McKagan a.k.a Duff McKagan a.k.a Daddy McKagan according to some of you nasty, freaky, bastards." I pipe and Duff rubs his face. 

"Oh my God." He chuckles. 

"Do you read your instagram comments?" I remind him and he nods. 

"It's just so weird to hear it in real time." He explains. "I think that's one of the most odd things you can call a sexual partner. Like…'daddy'..."

We just stare at each other for a moment and I look at the camera. 

"He just single handedly dragged me in the nicest way possible." I say to him as Nikki and Susan try not to laugh. 

"No, I jus--well, you can say whatever the hell you wanna say and call him whatever you wanna call him because you've earned it with the shit you've been through, but it's just odd for me to go online and there's, like, girls 30 years younger than me calling me 'daddy.' Like, I'm not sure if you realize this, sweetie, but I have daughters your age." He points out and I start laughing. "I-I could actually be your dad. Careful now." 

"I think Vince has a higher chance of being these horny girls' father." I state. 

"I know, but it's just food for thought, you know?" He shrugs. 

"I don't even know how to transition from that to the topic--which is a serious topic, but this is just...oh my gosh." I giggle out, not able to stop. 

"Speaking of 'food for thought'," He creates a transition for us to go into what we're talking about and I take the opportunity. 

"Yes, we will be discussing our weird relationship-but-not-really-because-I-was-married-and-confused situationship in honor of my book coming out 'Verbatim: The Truth, The Whole Truth, & Nothing Left Unsaid', which tells everything that happened from 1981, to early 2000s, that people have already read about in everybody else's books." I explain. "I've had this, 'it isn't anybody's business' mindset and now, I feel like I'm in a place where I can tell what happened, including our thing--which is something, believe it or not, we have not talked about as much as people think we have." 

"No, we haven't." 

"I don't know exactly why we haven't spoken about it much, like it happened, it obviously happened because we got a son out of it...we just haven't acknowledged it happened, really. Which is why we're gonna ask the tough questions and hopefully get through some stuff."

"Which is nice because I honestly think the last time we even alluded to it was 1994, right after I got sober, and was advised to resolve things in my friendships, and even then we didn't get everything out there." He replies. "At least I didn't, and I feel like a lot of people have something to say about it, and we spent so many years letting other people define what that time was to us--which it was such a private and personal thing between the two of us that other people's two cent shouldn't have had the impact on us that it did--but we let it get to that point where we lost sight of what it meant to us and let it be defined however the fuck people wanted to call it. And that wasn't good for either of us, and I think that's one of the things that's kept me from bringing it up again. Especially now that, ya know, I'm married, have two grown daughters with Susan, you have Nikki and your children, and I've always thought there's no point in bringing something up that happened--like you said--thirty-two, almost thirty-three--years ago.

"Because you don't want to hear the b.s."

"Because I don't want to hear the b.s." He agrees. "But the more I've thought about it, there are parts of me that feels like I didn't get to say what I wanted to say when we decided to go separate ways, and that just gets fucking heavier and heavier with each year, and I'm sure you might, too." 

"Oh, definitely." I agree completely, able to relate to it. "I feel like one of the main reasons for me, why I haven't tried to talk to you about it is because, like you said, people will automatically start something out of absolutely nothing, but also because I felt like I never had the right to." I state and he furrows his brows a little. "Why did you wait so long to tell me how you really felt about me?

He lets out a breath before thinking a moment. 

"I refused to hinder what little happiness you had left in your relationship with Nikki. I knew you guys were struggling, I knew you were fighting like hell to get your relationship back on track, and I didn't want you to have any more confusion going on than what was already being put on you and if I would have told you how I felt, that would've done that. And then I was with Mandy for a while and that kinda helped me feel like I was over those feelings, but I realized I wasn't when she and I broke up."

"Did anybody else know about how you felt or..?"

"Well, I--yeah, Stevie thought it was just a little, like, I had a crush on you, but Izzy knew I loved you...which is why he wasn't shocked when they found out about us." He says. "...Of course he wasn't surprised because all the Nikki/Vanity stuff happened, so he was kinda expecting you to do something, which--okay, I don't know how to ask this." He admits, thinking of how to word it, glancing at Nikki. 

"What?" I ask him. 

"I just don't want to come across as an asshole for asking this because I'm assuming it's a lot deeper than just...okay, whatever, I'm asking it." He decides. 

"Okay." I prepare for it and he sighs. 

"Why did it take that level of public humiliation for you to realize you weren't in a good marriage?" He asks and it nearly makes the breath leave my body, Nikki and I looking at each other. 

"Because it was public." I confess. "Everything else that had been done, had been done in private. There was no public input on it, there was nobody watching the situation unfold under a microscope, everything that happened up to that point was private. So, he could trip during a crack binge and shoot me and I could stay with him because I didn't have the public watching me, giving their opinions. But when his mistress announces it on TV, I can't just gloss over that because now everybody knows and has an inkling that 'uh oh, they're not this perfect relationship they've made people believe they are' and yes we came out and said it was a lie and tried to undo that damage that Denise caused, so physically I was still in the marriage, mentally I was drawing up divorce papers. And I'm not completely sure it was just the very public aspect of it, I think it was the fact it was her. And I realized, 'I can't compete with a woman who has absolutely everything about her that Nikki is addicted to: she knows how to have a good time, she's equally as wild as him, she's got the sex appeal, she's got all the drugs, she's on the same level as him in terms of entertainment industry' just everything that I wasn't...she was. And I was too exhausted at the point to try to compete with her so I gave up when that came out."

"I remember Izzy ranting, 'she's fucking comparing herself to Vanity and there's no reason to'." He impersonates Izzy and I chuckle. 

"He drilled into my head for years to follow that I was fine the way I was, I didn't need to change anything about my looks, my personality, my hobbies, my sobriety, like it was like 'The Help' when she's constantly reassuring the little girl 'you is smart, you is kind, you is important'." I quote. "Anytime Izzy could see me struggling with myself or not feeling my best he'd be like 'seventeen outta ten, Viv. Seventeen.'" 

Duff looks enlightened, and points to the space behind my right ear. 

"That's why've got '17' right there." He realizes and I nod. "In his writing." He adds. 

"In his writing." I confirm. 

"That's--wow. I didn't know you struggled with that for so long because there was no competition." He assures me.

"Well, I already had shitty self-esteem and then that made it worse, and then even when you and I were together I still had this fear a little bit that you were only with me to help yourself get over Mandy." 

"Abso-fucking-lutely not." He doesn't even think before saying and I feel myself tear up a little. "No way. No freaking way. I loved you, Viv, I really, really did. When you told me that you were filing as soon as the tour was over I started planning out our lives together, as crazy or cheesy that makes me seem, like, I was really going for it." He tells me.

"Duff." I feel guilty, my heart aching a little. 

"I remembered, 'okay, she wants this many kids, she says she likes dogs but really wants a cat, too, she doesn't want to live in the middle of the city, she doesn't want an over-the-top house, she wants to go back to school at some point so I'll put away some savings for that', like, I was planning out everything and fitting Guns N' Roses in wherever there was time in that whole plan. I was ready to be with you and start a life with you. I really, really was." He adds and I see Susan's sympathy for him, only adding to my guilt. 

"Well, just rip my heart out, why don't you?" I ask him to add some relief and Susan giggles, her bright smile coming back to her lips. 

"Right?" She asks. "Geez, babe." 

"I'm just saying." Duff tells us. 

"Nikki didn't even plan his days out when he woke up back then, and then you were there with a calculator adding up how much money you probably needed to put away for my schooling." 

"We wouldn't have had any money to go to school, anyway, Viv, 'cause it was all going to taxes and heroin." Nikki points out and I think for a moment. 

"And house payments." 

"And house payments." He agrees as I look back to Duff, who looks like he's thinking about something. 

"Okay, sorry if this is a weird question, but what did you mean you felt like you had 'no right' to talk about our relationship?" 

"Okay, well, we broke up, I was working on things with Nikki, you married Mandy four months after we broke up...I felt like 'okay, you've already gotten your husband back, he's gotten Mandy back, they're married, who the--' pardon my french ''--fuck are you to bring up your relationship and how it affected your friendship when you're both married to other people and doing your own things? Who are you to be worried with your time with him when you're with Nikki and he's got a wife, now?'." 

"Ohh, yeah. Yeah." He knows what I'm talking about, nodding. "So, you kinda felt like it was disrespectful to dwell on it too long." He adds. 

"Exactly. And I didn't want to disrespect Nikki, or Mandy, or Linda, and now Susan, by trying to work on us again, as friends, because we are exes, whether we want to admit it, we are. We dated. And I feel like it's easy to forget that sometimes because it was so long ago and that freaking sucks because I don't want…" My voice cracks and he looks at me pointedly as tears come to my eyes and I take a deep breath. "...I don't want to forget that time. And I'm not trying to be rude to my marriage or yours or make it seem like I still have those feelings for you, because I don't, but I don't want to forget there was a time in that hellacious cycle my life was in at that moment, that for a few months, I was genuinely happy in the midst of my life falling apart." I explain, sniffling. "And that wouldn't have been the case, if not for you. And I don't want to forget that." 

"Vivian." He says as I grab at a tissue and I see Susan knuckle a tear in her tear duct. 

"I don't know, it just felt like there was never a right time to address what happened fully because everything was happening so fast in our personal lives, for you and Guns, for Nikki and the band, I started having kids, and you got married a second time and your drinking was worse and worse, so it just never happened." 

"Can I ask you something else?" He says and I nod. "When do you think we should have said, 'look, we were together, it happened, and it's okay'. Because we avoided it like the plague for years and still do at times, and that's practically due to--like I said earlier--listening to how people defined it. Like you were called a 'whore' and a 'slut' and just awful shit in public and in papers and tabloids for years after it happened and I feel like because of that, there was that element of 'we should be ashamed of ourselves and just pretend it never fucking happened' surrounding it, even though we had Monroe who's breathing proof of what happened at some point, but we just treated it as if we adopted him together as friends or something like--" I laugh, wiping a tear, and he laughs with me for a few seconds. "--it's the truth, though, we never talked about our relationship. We went on Howard Stern in '88 right after Monroe was born, and he grilled us about it, but we just shut the fuck down after that and didn't speak of anything again for a couple years until we got in that fight over you limiting my time with Monroe, and then again in '94, and that was it--and none of those times really accomplished anything. At all." 

"We should have had that conversation before you got married to Mandy that May." I point out.

"That was so, so soon." He smiles nervously. "That was too soon, way too soon, to get married."

"You proposed to her the day after we broke up." I recall and he nods. 

"I sure did. I sure as hell did. So stupid." He states. "I learned not to make important decisions when I'm in pain. 'Cause I married two different women when I was going through some painful stuff and only made it worse." He explains. 

"And see that's the thing because you had me completely convinced you wanted Mandy. Like I felt so much better when we broke up, knowing you were with who you really wanted to be with, and I was with who I wanted to be with, and then I found out in an argument with you that you were miserable and married Mandy to try to make yourself excited about being back together with her." 

"And that's exactly why I told you that because I needed you to be happy and if I would have told you how I really felt about you, you wouldn't have been happy because you would've felt guilty for staying with Nikki and fixing things with him. And I wouldn't have forgiven myself if I would have put you through that so I married Mandy so fast because I was hurt, and I thought I loved her as much as I loved you, and I held on to that and ran with it." He tells me. "Why wasn't I good enough for you to stay?" 

I go to answer, before the weight of what he's asking really hits me, and several tears topple down my cheeks before I'm wiping them away. 

"I can't begin to put into words how highly you surpassed 'good enough'." I inform him when I finally speak. "Um, my decision to stay with Nikki had absolutely nothing to do with you. That was all me, and issues I thought were resolved within myself that weren't resolved at all, I was just ignoring them." I say. "And something in me was telling me not to stay with you...and I fully believe that was God telling me to back the hell off because he had a plan for you and I had no business accompanying you in that plan as your significant other." I explain. "And I hate to say this, but I really feel like we would have gotten divorced." 

His eyes widen and his brows raise, a knowing smile on his lips as his nods his head. 

"And I hate to think that but we would have made it, maybe, up until '92 because I wasn't even your wife or your girlfriend but just being around you made me so miserable." I admit. "I-It was like--you would get up and start drinking until you passed out that night. I was watching the person who had his shit together the most in my life, fall apart, and that was scary for me because we had a son who was witnessing his dad spiral." 

"Yeah." He rubs his lips together. 

"And getting you to take accountability for what you were doing was like trying to bathe a cat." I add.

"And it took me months after getting sober to evaluate what went wrong in my life with the band, what went wrong in my relationships, what went wrong in my parenting with Monroe, what went wrong in my friendship/co-parentship with you, and own up to what I played a part in because none of it imploded on it's own, or just because of other people, like I played a part in all of it, too, and admitting that took a lot of time to swallow my pride and just accept that I became the very thing I got pissed at Nikki for being, years prior to that, and saying, 'okay, I made all those mistakes, I fucked up, how can I do better and learn from it to better myself, to better my friendships, to better my relationship with my son, and just do what I'm supposed to do?' And I even ended up going to Nikki, and apologizing for what happened between us," he motions between me and him, "because even before you and him were separated over the Vanity thing, knowing you went to me for shit, over him, made him feel less than, made him feel like he wasn't a good enough husband and I kinda felt the same way when he stepped up for Monroe when I was going through my drinking, and it made me feel like I wasn't adequate enough as a father because Monroe was leaning a bit more on him than he was on me, and for the shit I was going through in my life with my alcoholism and drugs, I was doing the best I could do as a dad. And it made me realize that Nikki was doing the best he could do as a husband back when he was in the thick of his heroin addiction, because he was sick and couldn't fucking help himself, just like I was sick and couldn't help myself, and neither of us wanted to hear we had a problem, neither of us wanted help. And I know people are gonna, 'well, Nikki cheated and was mean to her and this and that', I know what you looked like when Nikki was hurting you. I know the look you would get on your face...I know that I hurt you as much as Nikki did through my drinking because you would look at me the way you would look at him when you weren't recognizing the person in front of you due to how royally they had fucked themselves up." 

"Yes." I nod, not even arguing. 

"And that fucking hurt to realize that I was hurting you as bad as he had, and I remembered getting so pissed at him for doing that back in '86/'87 as he got worse, but then I did it, too, and that experience really opened my eyes when I got sober because I wouldn't have been humbled in that way had I not had a drinking addiction and reached that low, and I do think that's one of the reasons that was allowed to happen to me." He finishes and I take a deep breath before asking:

"If Monroe wouldn't have been conceived, if we wouldn't have had a child to come out of our relationship, knowing what we know now, how we ended up not staying together, the public slander and stuff we had to go through...would you still have had a relationship with me, if you could go back and change it?" 

"Without a doubt, yes." He says, matter-of-fact. "It would have been a waste of a blessing to not have taken the opportunity to love someone as recklessly--maybe even stupidly, at times--unconditionally, with the magnitude I loved you with, at such a young age. Like, usually you can expect to find something like what we had when people get a little older, and get through all their bullshit relationships before finding the person that loves them for them fully, but I had the chance of experiencing that when I was, like, in my early twenties...and I didn't experience that again, and so much more, until I met Susan." He says and I nod. "And I don't want you to think that because we haven't spoken about it, maybe as much as we should have, that I'm ashamed of you or us or embarrassed, because I'm not proud that we did what we did in that timing--because it was really shitty timing and we both can agree on that, I think," he raises his brows and I agree, "but I will never be ashamed, or apologetic,  or embarrassed that I ever had that with you. I felt like one of the most fortunate people to even know you, and then to have that relationship we had--even for the few months it lasted--was just...it was such a short time compared to how long you've been with Nikki and how long I've been with Su, but we spent it loving each other the best that we could. And we really did love each other, and we do still love each other--even if it's not in that same way, the spirit of it, I guess, is still there. There's still that 23 year old kid in me that'll kick somebody's ass over you, and wants to see you happy, and is in absolute love with you. And don't get me wrong, there's a 56 year old me that wants to see you happy and that'll still kick somebody's ass over you." He clarifies, making me laugh. "I'm just pointing out that even when those feelings went away, I don't think that bond ever did." 

"Yeah." I nod, sniffling as I press a tissue to under my eye to catch more tears. "Do you, um...do you remember our break up?" 

He exhales and gives me a little smile, nodding, before tears come to his eyes.

"I--yeah, I...I remember it…" He informs me. 

"We had just gotten done messing around, and if we did anything before we went to bed we would just stay in bed and go to sleep, but if we did anything in the afternoon or whatever we'd get up shortly after and clean up and go about the day. And we got done, it was, like, 2:00pm, and it was this odd feeling in the midst of it that 'this is gonna be the last time we ever do this with one another', and neither of us said a word, we just laid there with each other for four hours when we were done, taking in every second that we could. Well I finally got up to go back home and check on Nikki because he had OD'd the night before." I explain. 

"And you went to the door to leave and I stopped you, and was like, 'I know you're going to make things right with Nikki, and I'm going to fix things with Mandy, and I want you to know that I love you, and I'm proud of you, and I always will and always will be'. Of course you can understand me a little better now because I was crying when I choked those out, but, um," he laughs and I smile back more tears. "And you said, 'thank you, I love you, Duff' and gave me a kiss and a hug and then you were gone." 

"And we rarely spoke about it, again."

"And we rarely spoke about it, again." He confirms and I let out a breath, feeling more tears swell in my eyes. "What a fucking way to end a relationship." He adds. 

"This is where I'm really gonna start crying, um…" I start, chuckling nervously. "...I wasn't thanking you for being understanding, I was thanking you for everything that you'd done for me, and it took me a while to understand that that was one of the things I felt like was unresolved because that 'thank you' had a lot of weight behind it." I tell him. 

"Okay." He tells me, listening intently. 

"This is so freaking stupid and unhealthy but I wrote suicide notes for when Nikki finally OD'd and died, because I knew if he were to go, I'd have to go with him, I couldn't live without him." I tell him and he looks a shocked. "You taught me that I could live without him when I didn't think that I could, and you brought me so much peace and rest in a time when I couldn't remember the last time I was at peace, and I sure as hell couldn't get any rest. And I felt, and still feel, so indebted to you for those months that you spent trying your hardest to fix what you didn't break--you risked your career over me, you protected me, you defended me, you supported me, you loved me--and that's what I was thanking you for that day, and I feel like I've got a weight off my shoulders now because I have never told you that and I've always wanted to but didn't think it was a good time." 

"Holy shit, Viv." He wipes a stray tear, and I see Susan doing the same, Nikki just smiling at me like he's glad I've gotten that weight off of me, because he knows I've been wanting to say it for years.

"And I'm sorry it was such a shitty breakup that kind of came out of nowhere." 

"The way you were screaming and crying and begging God whenever we were trying to get Nikki to wake up, I knew if he lived you were gonna fix things. I was prepared for it, I promise." He assures me. "And I'm really glad we got to do this and get this out there with each other and I really hope you were able to get some closure with this, because I really did." 

"I did, too." I nod, wiping more tears. 

"I love you." He tells me as we get out of our chairs, giving me a quick, innocent, peck on the lips, before hugging me tightly.  

"I love you, too." 

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

.

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

@fancywasmyname1  @teller258316  @ggorehorror  @blowinmeupwithherlove  @xrosegoldwolfx  @mylifeisjustafeverdream  @redlipscrystalskies14 @str4nge-haze

[prettymuchdolansbitch]

Award Winning | N.M.

A/N: This goes to the Anon that asked for something soft 🥺 It was solely based off this picture, enjoy 💖

Today was a big day for your boyfriend, Nick's, band. They were nominated for an award on their new EP that just came out not too long ago.

Unfortunately, Nick & the rest of the guys were advised not to bring their girlfriends to the award show so that they can be more appealing to fans. You were upset you couldn't be there to celebrate when they won, but you understood.

Nick was out all morning getting cleaned up and what not. You sat at home cleaning up some areas of the house that needed cleaning. Nick got home and didn't start to get ready til an hour before they had to leave for the red carpet.

He was running all over the house and throwing clothes everywhere. The clothes that you had just put away. "Nick, honey. Your outfit was already planned out. It's all in the closet already." You said leaning on the doorway of your shared bedroom.

His head turned so fast to you and he just smiled. "Oops. Sorry babe. I'll put everything back. Thank you thank you thank you" He ran out of the room across the hall to your walk in closet that you guys shared. Nick didn't forget to place a small kiss on your head though as he ran out of the room.

You picked the clothes up from the floor and folded them quickly and put them back in the drawers in front of you. The amount of clothes this kid has is insane. You thought to yourself.

Nick came back into the room dressed with messy hair. He put his shoes on and then ran to the bathroom to fix his hair.

You sat on the couch and waited for him to be done. Nick ran into the living room out of breath. "You ready?" You asked. "Uh yeah I should be. I think I have everything. Hard to know when your girlfriend isn't coming to make sure I have everything."

You laughed at what he said. "You just need me there to hold your shit." You grabbed your keys and walked towards the door. "No, I just need you to be there with me." He pouted and wrapped his arms around you.

"Mm, I'll be right on that couch watching everything. I'll text you if I see anything wrong" You placed a gentle kiss on his lips, but that wasn't enough for him. He pulled you back and started to kiss you hard.

"Okay, you're gonna be late, and I'm sure the boys are just waiting on your ass so they can leave" "Ugh fine." He mumbled walking out the front door.

-

You were making yourself some dinner in the kitchen while waiting to hear the boys on the TV. As soon as you heard "prettymuch" on the TV, you turned off the stove and brought your mac n cheese to the living room.

You watched the boys walk the red carpet and pose. People were already raving about them. E! had stopped the boys for an interview and you were excited for them.

"Last question, is everyone here single? New fans are dying to know" She turned the mic to them. "Actually just me and this guy are." Brandon said pointing to Zion. They both smiled. "Yeah our girlfriends are at home watching this right now." Nick said smiling at the camera. "Well, now you guys know! Congrats on the nomination and good luck!" They all said thank you and the channel cut to commercial.

An hour & a half later, it was time for the award that the boys are nominated for. You sat on your couch sweating so much. You were nervous but you knew they had this in the bag.

"And the winner is... PRETTYMUCH!" You jumped off the couch screaming to no one. "THATS MY BABYY" you screamed and recorded it on your phone.

You saw the boys all had smiles on their faces and we're hugging each other. They had some people from their team with them and hugged them as well. You watched as they all walked to the stage with big smiles. You couldn't help but tear up a little. This is their first big award ever and you were so incredibly proud of them.

Just knowing how many hours in all you didn't see Nick per day because of this EP made you even more proud. It was all worth it. And they're going on tour in a month? They really made it.

Nick grabbed the award from the presenters and held it up. Brandon was the first to speak. "We just wanna thank everyone who had a part in this EP. The fans, our team, family, everyone. It really means the world. Thank you!" He stepped back to let one of the other boys speak.

Nick came up and began to speak. "Man, this is really special to us. This is our first award ever, and this is really only because of you guys. We love you. And to my love who's at home probably crying, thank you for sticking with me through the whole process. And I think we can all say that to our ladies. Y'all special. Love you baby. Thank you guys, again" He stepped back and it didn't look like anyone else had to say anything so the camera switched to the crowd.

Nick wasn't wrong. You were bawling and didn't even notice. Everyone began tweeting you about it and your heart felt so full. You couldn't wait for him to get home.

You got a text from Izzy and she said that they were all going to the Prettymuch House to celebrate. You quickly changed and drove over. You stopped to buy a champagne bottle for Nick and the boys.

You knew Nick was going to stop at the house anyways because of the rest of the boys. So you just thought you could leave with him from there.

They got to the house and everything was crazy. Confetti and champagne was thrown everywhere. They really won the award and you were beyond ecstatic for them. Nick walked into the house and went straight to you. You hugged him and started crying again.

"I love you so so much" You said into his ear. He pulled back and looked at you. "I love you way more" He kissed your head and saw all the excitement happening behind you.

You grabbed the bottle from next to you and handed it to him. "Try not to waste half of it this time" You said reminiscing about his 21st birthday on tour when he wasted half a bottle of champagne from letting it get everywhere.

"I'll try." He shook the bottle and ripped the top off letting it explode everywhere. Nick held the bottle up to his mouth and drank some. Parker took pictures of you two while he drank.

3 hours later, you were exhausted and Nick was drunk. You didn't care though. You were happy he was bathing in blissful delight. You knew it was time to go home when you found Nick knocked out in Edwin's bed.

"C'mon baby, let's go home." He turned over to go back to sleep. "Niiicckk" You said poking his butt.

"Okay okay. Help me up." He held his hand out to you. You attempted to pull him up but instead he pulled you on top of him.

"You loser" You said as his arms naturally fell on you. "Mm, I'm your loser" He said closing his eyes again. "Indeed you are." You said smiling at him.

"Do you ever think about having kids? I mean you're fucking gorgeous, and I'm not too shabby. Our kids would be the most beautiful creatures on this planet" He rambled to you. This was the first time in the 3 years you've been dating that he talked about kids.

You were shocked because he never brought up a family before. You assumed it was the alcohol talking though. "You're soo drunk. Let's get you home" You tried to get up off of him.

"No, I mean yeah I'm drunk but it's not the alcohol talking. I really do want kids with you." You looked at him and his eyes were still closed. "We can talk tomorrow when you're sober, okay?" You said staring at his gorgeous face.

"Okay, let's go home" You rolled off of him and tried your best to help him up. You guys walked to the living room and saw only a few people left. You said bye to Edwin and Izzy as they were the only ones you really cared to say bye to. You didn't know where the rest of the boys were so.

You got home and helped Nick get out of his clothes. He had enough energy to shower and get into bed. You guys laid in bed and he immediately got on top of you. Nick laid his head on your chest and almost immediately fell asleep. "I love you mamas. Goodnight." He said placing a kiss on your boob. "Love you too sugar" You ran your hand through his hair as you felt his body get heavy with slumber.

[burnedmytongue]

when my heart felt volcanic: can we dance

chapter two’s song is can we dance by the vamps which takes me backkkk. here’s part one if u haven’t read that. i have a spotify playlist also that includes the chapter songs and also a bunch of songs that make me think of calum. my spotify name is dumbteenluke and the playlist is called songs for calum if u wanna check it out. this story is also on wattpad and i have a few more chapters up on there if you want to read ahead, my user is blurryphace. okay hope u enjoy smoochie <3

in which calum is stirs up her bad desires and she is burning him up

word count: 1231

isabella was just a little bit drunk. so was everyone else in their group, but isabella was the only one underage. this was one of those times she missed home. she didn't miss it for too long, however, because maddie was handing her another drink and taylor was pulling her on the dance floor.

truth be told, this wasn't the first time isabella had been drunk by one p.m. but, she did have a show to attend later that night. her brother's show. her mother had left after they finished their meal, telling ashton to not let izzy drink too much before she had the chance to capture their show that night with her camera. speaking of ashton, where was he? she had been so caught up trying not to spill her vodka soda on taylor while she was dancing on him that she had forgotten the boys were there with them celebrating their graduation. she looked around the room and saw the boys sitting in a leather booth, the table littered with empty glasses.

more importantly, she saw calum, who was staring daggers through her. he had been in a weird mood ever since she had introduced the boys to her two best friends. isabella really wanted them to like each other, but that was the least of her worries right now as calum burned holes in her skin with his harsh gaze. she excused herself from taylor when ashton motioned her to come to the table.

"i have one more thing to give you izzy," ashton smiled as she approached the table.

"ash, really you don't have to. I'm just glad you guys are here," isabella said, sitting down in between ashton and luke. luke threw an arm around her and kissed her forehead. "this one is from all of us," he added.

ashton handed isabella a small black box. she looked around at them for any hint as to what it could be. she carefully opened the lid. inside was a key.

"what is this, ash?" she asked. all four boys were smiling from ear to ear.

"well, seeing as you can't exactly stay in your dorm anymore, and since mum is flying back to sydney tomorrow, we thought you might need somewhere to stay."

"yeah i don't know how i feel about sleeping on the streets. i'm not opposed to it, but i'd like to explore my options first." she said slowly, not fully understanding what this key unlocked.

"so.. they boys and i thought it would be fun i-" ashton stated before he was interrupted by luke.

"if you came and lived with us." luke finished.

"wait seriously? you want me to live with you? in your house? me?" izzy clarified. "yes little one, would you like to say it one more time," calum smirked.

"if i wasn't so drunk right now, i would be screaming," isabella said, smiling. she saw the worried look on ashton's face at the mention of her intoxicated state. "this is going to be so much fun. we can have movie nights and throw party's and bake cookies!"

"not exactly what we're used to but i guess we could use a little change every now and then." michael said, grinning.

"yes bitches! i have officially ascended to fifth member status. your name can finally fucking make sense!" izzy slurred. "now, who wants to dance?" calum grinned up at her from his spot in the booth.

"let's fucking dance."

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

isabella danced for another hour before going back to her dorm to take a nap and get ready for the show that night. she had to be moved out by the next day, so she packed while letting her hair air dry. after she had gotten all her clothes in boxes, she finished blow drying her hair and applied her makeup. she called maddie and taylor to come to her dorm so they could help her with her outfit.

they ended up fucking around as usual and were running a bit late. isabella wore a pair of blue-green plaid pants with a silver chain, a black guns n roses shirt, and black docs. she was really excited to see her brother's band live for the first time since they played at her prom in high school. she smiled to herself at the memory of the four boys in their too-big suits and flat ironed hair.

maddie leaned back from the front seat and looked at izzy. "are you excited to see the boys?" she questioned.

"of course. i haven't seen them perform in ages." she replied to the blonde girl, who was peering at her over her oversize sunglasses.

"i bet calum is excited to see you." maddie smirked.

isabella's eyes widened. she thought back to the curly headed boys angry mood early before responding, "doubt it."

"shut the fuck up. did you see the way he was looking at you when you were dancing today?" maddie said.

"yeah, like he hated me." isabella grumbled, remembering the way he glared at her. she had honestly been thinking about it all day. but she also couldn't quite seem to let go the pet name calum had called her. "little girl." what was that supposed to mean? isabella didn't know, but it sure made her stomach flip. god, calum was fucking confusing.

"not you, taylor."

"what?" izzy asked.

"fucking forget it, no one ever listens to me." maddie grumbled and turned around as izzy giggled.

as the lights of los angelos passed by the window of the car, isabella couldn't help but think back to the key she was gifted earlier that day. she had woken up from her nap thinking it was a dream, but alas, the black box was sat atop her night stand. as they pulled into the venue, she could feel her nerves start to build up. she hadn't actually been in the right mind to process what living with the boys would entail, but now that she had sobered up, she was nervous.

and seeing the boy with the curly brown hair standing at the entrance didn't do anything to calm her nerves. isabella couldn't remember a time when her stomach didn't do flips around calum. the first time he had come over to their house, she ran to her room and hid there until he left. and while she was much more comfortable around him now, there was still a thick fog of desire that overcame isabella when ever he came into the room.

"hey guys." calum greeted them. "bella!" he exclaimed before jogging over to her and picking her up.

"calum! put me down, you're going to drop me!" she squealed. he looked her in the eyes and brought her face down level with his. he leaned in and whispered in her ear, "now why would i drop you, baby?" before kissing her cheek. isabella shuttered and calum placed her on the ground before taking her hand.

"come on, i'll show you guys to the dressing room." calum said.

isabella knew calum didn't like her the way she liked him. she knew he saw her as a little sister. nothing more. his constant mood swings were giving her whiplash, and she was sure he was plenty occupied with the girls he met on the road.

yet her hand was on fire from his own wrapped around hers.

[xxisxxisxxis]

Gateway Drug | Part Fifty-One

Table of Content or Part Fifty

Wattpad

Word count: 4.6K

Warning(s): explicit language, drug abuse, minor sexual situations, violence

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

@fancywasmyname1 @teller258316 @ggorehorror @blowinmeupwithherlove @xrosegoldwolfx @mylifeisjustafeverdream @redlipscrystalskies14

LET ME KNOW IF YOU WANT TO BE TAGGED

My stomach aches with laughter as Duff delivers his punchline of his joke, my hands coming up to cover my mouth as I try to chew my fried mozzarella stick and he takes a sip of his beer, laughing as I snort, which only causes me to laugh even harder, until the both of us are laughing possibly the ugliest anyone has ever laughed, and I'm discarding my food into a napkin because I'm laughing too hard to try to chew it.

My eyes are watering, and thin tears roll down my cheeks.

We finally calm down, seeing people glaring at us for being so loud, but we ignore them.

"That was pretty good." I give him credit where credit is due, shifting in my seat a little and taking in a sharp breath as my sore thigh takes notice of the movement.

"Are you okay?" He asks me and I nod.

"It's still sore." I tell him, trying not to take notice of the expression on his face that flashes for a split second.

Nobody could understand why the hell I went right back home when I got out of the hospital like Nikki hadn't put my life in serious danger.

It wasn't like Nikki had intentionally shot at me. He didnt know what the hell I was and just kicked into to survival mode.

I didn't see the big deal in staying with him.

Tommy, Vince and Mick didn't even know what really happened. Doc had told them the same thing he told me to tell the press: I dropped Nikki's gun on accident, while trying to move it, and it went off and caught me.

He didn't want them to know the truth because they were working on the new album, and he didn't want to "create conflict" within the group.

So the only people that knew the truth aside from Fred, Doc and Nikki, was Duff, Slash, Steven, Izzy and Axl.

It wasn't long after that, that Axl informed me he wrote "You're Crazy" about me as a joke, but realized he was pretty right to write it because, in his words, "you staying with the crackhead heroin junkie that already treats you like shit, then fucking shot you, just solidifies my theory that you're actually, medically, out of your mind, and your insanity isn't just 'to be determined' anymore" and I asked him if he "wanted to be the pot or the kettle?"

The irony of him--out of all people--calling anybody else "crazy" was beyond me.

Thirty-two years later and he still dedicates the song to me every time they play it live.

After we're done eating our Sunday lunch, we pay and head to my car, slowly, because I'm limping and Duff's walking slow so he doesn't leave me.

"So, I kinda did something for your late birthday present." He informs me out of nowhere and I raise my brows.

"What do you mean?" I ask, fumbling to get my keys from my purse, shielding my eyes from the harsh sun in my face as we head to the parking lot.

"Mandy and I broke up." He states and I raise my brows.

"...You broke up with your girlfriend as my birthday present?" I'm confused and he chuckles it off.

"No!" He nervously rubs at the back of his neck. "She broke up with me, actually, but that's not what your present is."

"She broke up with you? Are you okay?" I ask.

"It's a girl, Viv. There's plenty more decent girls to choose from when I'm ready to be in a relationship again." He shrugs.

"Did she tell you why she was breaking things off?" I question.

"Just needed space or time or something like that, I don't know. I was kinda drunk when she called to tell me."

"She broke up with you over a phone call?" I raise my voice, my nostrils flaring.

"Viv, chill out." He let's out with a laugh, nudging me with his arm. "You haven't let me explain the good part of this."

"Well then explain." I clear my throat and he rubs his lips together.

"I talked to Nikki last night 'cause he and Tommy came around to hangout with us for a little while." He explains.

"Mhm?"

"I mentioned the fact that you were kinda getting back into dancing and he said he'd been meaning to ask me about it because you'd told him about Mandy letting you use their rehearsal space to dance."

"She didn't even know I was using it, you just sneak me in whenever she's not there. Well, at least, you did. I'm assuming she got the key back from you."

"You're not letting me finish." He points out and I roll my eyes and sigh.

"Okay. I'm listening."

"Nikki and I conspired together, and I'm buying the place from Mandy, and Nikki is going to pay for any renovations and cleaning up it probably definitely needs."

I stop walking, my face falling, unable to say anything.

"So...happy birthday?" He cautiously finishes, not able to gauge how I'm gonna react.

I just start crying.

"I-I'm sorry, if you didn't want that we can--"

"--I'm not crying because I'm upset, I'm crying because I'm happy." I tell him, wiping my running mascara.

"Viv." He smiles a little, and I hug him to me, my arms around him tightly as I squeeze my eyes closed.

"Thank you." I mumble to him and he kisses at my hair for a second.

"Happy birthday."

I knew on Nikki's part it was an attempt to apologize without actually saying "I'm sorry for shooting you" because if he said "I'm sorry" it would mean admitting he was wrong and I was right about his drug use.

And Vivian could never be right about anyone over-doing it with their bad habits.

I shut the front door, slipping my kitten heels off by the door before I calmly step through the house to get to our bedroom so I can change from my church dress.

Nikki's passed out in our bed. I've gotten to where I have to wake him up and get him to bed or just sleep next to him in the closet.

I accidentally rolled over and stabbed myself with one of his used needles a few nights ago so I've been praying he's been using clean needles and isn't going to transfer anything weird to me.

I change clothes and get into our bed, watching him sleep, at least I think he's asleep.

"How was church?" He asks me, keeping his liner smudged eyes shut and I run the tip of my finger over his bare chest.

"It was good." I reply. "It ran late again today." I lie, not wanting him to find out about Duff and I eating lunch again.

"Oh." He yawns, turning over to face me and I get a little closer to him, hooking my leg around his hip and he grins softly, resting his hand on the curve of my back.

"So, Zutaut called again." I tell him and he sighs out.

"Nope." He sits up and I untangle from him, rolling my eyes as I follow him into the bathroom.

"You didn't even let me finish." I argue, crossing my arms and leaning against the doorway as he puts the toilet seat up to pee.

"I don't need to let you finish. This is the second time he's called in the three days and you told me the first time he called he was wondering if I'd be up to produce your friends' album."

"I love how they're strictly just my friends as soon they inconvenience you. Which I don't even consider this an inconvenience."

"Then what is it, Viv?" He flushes the toilet and steps to the shower to turn it on.

"An opportunity to actually listen to our--'our' meaning 'your's, too'--friends' music. And help them get it put down on an album that actually stays true to their sound instead of trying to add all the extra bull crap that everyone else that's wanted to produce them, has done." I state as he gets his clothes off and gets into the shower.

"What's in it for me?" He asks over the sound of the water.

"Um, the satisfaction of helping a hungry band reach their dreams and share their music? Also helping them get money because once the kids see the album is produced by Nikki Sixx they're gonna buy it because they trust your opinion on good rock music?" I suggest hopefully.

"I want blowjobs." He cuts through the sentimental atmosphere I created in my mind surrounding friendship and dedication, and I glare at the shower as my face drops from it's smile into an unamused expression. "Like, on-command blowjobs. Anytime, anywhere."

"You want me to drop to my knees the second you snap your fingers? Ha!" I scoff.

"Then I'm not even gonna consider producing them."

"Oh my goodness gracious, fine!" I give up, letting out a heavy sigh. "For how long?"

"Um, until I come?"

"No, I mean over what duration of time do I have to sacrifice the wellbeing of my jaw for your disgusting and degrading satisfaction?"

"Until you get arthritic to the point of not being able to get down that low without throwing a joint out of place." He says and I raise a brow, yanking the shower open.

"I am not gonna be in my fifties getting on my knees every time you want some head." I state and he laughs.

"If I have to give you on-command BJs, you have to go down on me on-command."

"You don't even have to tell me to eat you out, I'll gladly do it without the say-so." He says as he shapes his lathered hair straight up with his hands and I have to keep myself from laughing at his childishness. "And can you close that, It's kinda nippley out there." He motions outside of the shower and I shake my head a little before pinning my hair off of my shoulders with a hair clip on our counter and start pulling my clothes off.

I get in with him and he smirks.

"Am I in trouble?" He asks and I raise my brows before reaching my hands up to squish down on his hair that he's got perfectly sculpted upward with shampoo. "No, Viv!" He tries to protect it, laughing loudly.

Tom Zutaut had pressed at me to convince Nikki to at least consider producing "Appetite for Destruction."

Everyone that was interested in Guns N' Roses wanted to alter their music or add unnecessary elements to their signature raw sound. He knew Nikki advocated for people not compromising on what they want, especially with their music, and knew he would never try to produce the album the way he wanted it, but the way the band wanted it.

The only problem there was in the plan...

I roll my eyes as Nikki takes a bump of coke to try to pull himself out of his heroin induced stupor as I fall back in the seat across from him in the limousine, wiping my smudged lipstick from around my mouth, panting, hot and bothered because he started something and couldn't get his prick up to finish it.

Oh, the joys of body function inhibiting drugs.

"Okay, c'mon." He says as he takes a deep breath.

I get back on him to straddle his lap, my hands pulling my dress up my hips and pushing my panties aside while he rubs at himself.

It doesn't seem like he's getting any harder, and the mood is ruined.

"Babe, it's okay." I sigh out, calmly, although I'm frustrated.

"Fuck." He curses, just as irritated, his boot harshly kicking the edge of the seats across from us, his fingers grasping at his hair.

I fix my panties back and move off of him, smoothing my dress back down as he tucks himself back into his pants and laces them back up.

"I'm sorry, Viv." He turns his head to the side to look at me while he's leaning his head back.

"It's fine." I assure him. "Not like I need to be putting that much pressure on my thigh anyway." I add and the atmosphere in the car immediately tenses up.

He doesn't reply, putting his shades on to prepare for the flashing cameras bound to find us.

He despises the press.

I don't blame him.

Once we get stopped, Nikki's opening the door, tightly grasping at my hand.

"Nikki! Nikki!" They all seem to be shouting, followed by questions such as, "you guys working on the album?", "what are some songs we can expect on the new album?", "when are you releasing a new record?", "is it true you went to rehab for heroin?", "are you still on drugs?"

"Vivian, there's pregnancy rumors, do you know who, in the band, is the father?" Someone shouts and I ignore them, keeping my head down and my eyes closed, letting Nikki cut through the reporters and get us into the venue to meet Tom and let Nikki experience his first official Guns N' Roses show.

...Nikki hated it.

He was ready to leave only two songs in and showed absolutely no interest in spending his time producing them.

He wouldn't even really pin point what exactly he didn't like about their music or their playing, he just didn't like it.

He admits now that he was so fucked up that night, in particular, that he wouldn't have known what was good music if it hit him in the face.

I figured that might have been the case since he was the first one to put in for Guns N' Roses to join Mötley Crüe on the "Girls, Girls, Girls" tour and advocate for their music.

His mood swings gave me whiplash.

"What do you think so far?" Tom asks Nikki as Nikki takes a sip of his drink.

"I don't see the fuss." He states, and Tom and I exchange looks, confused.

"W-What?" I ask, furrowing my brows. "Are you kidding me?"

"Did I stutter?"

"W--C'mon, Nikki, you haven't even heard some of their other stuff. These kids have the potential to be extraordinary, they're almost there. You can't just write them off like this."

"I'm not writing anybody off. They're my friends and I dig their enthusiasm but I can barely find the time to work on our own album, let alone produce someone else's and they're not striking me enough to make me want to sacrifice more of my time to produce them."

"Baby, if you would just give them a chan--"

"--Viv, I said 'no'." He sternly scolds me and tears swell up in my eyes because I could have sworn Nikki would have really liked their music.

"I'll be right back." I tell them, stepping to the bathroom to dry my tears.

At the time I thought Nikki was just being an asshole.

He didn't tell me he didn't want to produce them because he wouldn't have done the kind of job they deserved for their talent on their debut album.

He wanted to do right by them, and that meant staying as far away from their music as possible.

He didn't tell anyone that because that would have been him admitting he had a problem.

"Lose the nasty attitude, Vivian." Nikki orders as I stomp into our house while he shuts the front door behind him, locking it.

"Why? You gonna toss me aside, too?" I hiss, taking my jacket off and throwing my purse onto the coffee table, crossing my arms.

"Will you just drop it? It's not like there aren't thousands of producers that would love to help them out." He takes his jacket off, tossing it to the couch.

"What is wrong with their music? Is it their sound, their personality, their--"

"--Vivian, I said 'drop it'!" He barks.

"I have every right to be angry, Nikki! You clearly might not give a fuck about them but they are my friends--who I know good and damn well have immense talent and there's even some of it that's yet to be untapped--and I just wanted you to give them an actual shot at achieving the thing all of them have worked their asses off for and dreamed about since they were kids!" I throw my hands up.

"I'm done talking about this." He states, stepping to our bedroom.

"I'm not!" I take my heel off and throw it as hard as I can at his head.

It hits the back of his hair and he stops in his tracks.

"Tom said it himself, and you heard him: Guns N' Roses will be the biggest rock n roll band in the world if they just get someone behind them that can guide them to where they need to be!" I ball my fists up at my sides, digging my nails into my palms.

Nikki just slowly turns to face me, his eyes wild, his breathing labored, and a out of line theory sprouts in my mind, but the way he's been acting lately it won't surprise me if it's true.

"Is that why you won't help them?" I ask him, cutting my eyes. "Because they're possibly going to dethrone Mötley Crüe?"

The fact that I'm insinuating he gives a fuck about bullshit "competition", especially in regards to his friends, just infuriates him more. I see it in his eyes.

He just turns back around and goes to our bedroom, slamming the door shut.

I roll my jaw, my eyes drifting to the beautiful display of his gold and platinum records on the wall beside the hallway that leads to guest bedrooms.

My skin of my knuckles is splitting open when my fist collides with the glass of the "Shout at the Devil" Gold award.

Platinum's next.

Just before I'm going for "Too Fast for Love", Nikki's screaming from our bedroom doorway, Jack Daniel's in hand.

"What the fuck are you doing?!" He shouts and I just shoot him a glare before taking the "Too Fast for Love" plaque off the wall. "Put the fucking plaque down Vivian." Nikki orders, stepping closer to me.

"Produce their album." I demand, acting as if I'm going to drop it.

"Put. It. Down. Vivian."

"Or what? You'll shoot me again?" I taunt him and he grinds his teeth. "Produce their album." I repeat.

"Go to hell, crazy bitch." He snaps.

"You go first!" I holler back, hurling the award at the wall and it crashes into another plaque and they both shatter to pieces.

I turn around just in time to see Nikki pouring Jack all over my Bible that he'd plucked from the coffee table, just before pulling his lighter out.

"Stop!" I shriek, rushing to him.

I'm too late, though, and he's lighting it up and throwing it into the empty fire place just as I make it to him.

A God-awful feeling of dread fills me as Sikki looks very proud of himself.

I can't even look at him right now.

Walking to the kitchen to wash my bleeding hand off and get it wrapped up, I start to think a mile a minute.

My heart clenches in my chest as tears line my lashes.

How predictable of Nikki Sixx to burn a fucking Bible just to piss off a christian who's had said Bible since childhood...but it somehow shocks me that he'd do it to me, I guess.

I glance down at my wedding ring.

I've noticed it feels more and more like a weight with every argument he and I have.

Our entire relationship was just an open body of water that, that freaking ring was dragging me deeper and deeper in to.

The pressure was starting to get painful and I needed air.

My finger tips tug at my wedding ring and I leave it on the kitchen counter before I'm walking to our bedroom-- while he's still in the living room-- locking the door and heading to the closet, quickly gathering every lick of heroin, coke, and pills before going to our bathroom and flushing all of it, all the while Nikki's banging his fist against our bedroom door.

I hear a loud crash, and realize he kicked the door in.

"Vivian!" He screams as I'm giving the final flush to the last bindle, opening the bathroom door.

He's pushing me aside rather roughly and stomping to the toilet as the sound of the tank refilling with water let's him know what I've been doing.

"What did you do?!" He seethes at me, finger in my face, eyes shot, five o'clock shadow framing his gritted teeth.

And I just turn around with the intention of getting my shoes back on and leaving.

His hand is catching in my hair and yanking me back to him.

"Nikki, fuck off!"

"Don't fucking walk away from me!" He yells.

"I should have walked away from you six years ago!" I exclaim, tears of anger rolling down my cheeks.

This gets his attention because he's letting me go, an obvious expression of hurt on his face.

"I should have never slept with you. I should have never dated you. I should have never told you I'd marry you and I never should have taken vows to love and honor and protect someone who can't even get off of drugs long enough to love and honor and protect me." I sniffle and he blinks at me slowly as if holding back on his emotions.

"Then walk the fuck away." He hisses at me, rolling his jaw.

I left.

Nikki called Vanity.

And I went to find Duff.

I shut my car door before making my way into the Seventh Veil, running a hand through my hair as music blares through the speakers.

I glance around, hoping they're here because I've been up and down the strip and they've been nowhere to be found.

My prayers are answered when I look to see the massive fluff of blonde hair and I walk over to the table where Duff, Izzy, Steven, and Slash are, yanking a chair from a neighboring table and sitting with them.

They give me weird looks, Steven glancing around to check for Nikki or any of the other guys, before exchanging looks with Duff and Slash while Izzy seems unphased, his eyes on the same thing mine are on: the dancer on stage.

"Um...Viv?" Steven asks me cautiously and I side eye him.

"Yeah." I mumble.

"Uh, a-are you here alone?" He asks.

"Yep."

"Do you like strippers or something?" Slash asks me next.

"Nope."

"Did Nikki piss you off?" Duff's next.

"Yep."

"Is your hand alright?" Steven motion's to my hand that's got a scabbed over, bloody cut over the top of it.

"Shh, guys, she has to keep a clear mind so she can properly construct her plan to ask the dancers if they've accepted Jesus Christ as their Lord and Savior." Izzy sarcastically puts in and I cut my eyes at him as he takes another drag of his cigarette.

"Talk all your shit, Stradlin. Just gives me more motivation to curate ideas to make your life harder."

"Your existence in itself makes my life harder." He scoffs.

"Good that means I'm fulfilling one of the purposes God gave me for my life."

"Is your other purpose getting your husband so heated he throws you out of the house?"

"Oh, I'm sorry." I pretend to feel sorry, poking my lip out a little. "I forget I can't be upset with Nikki around you because you get bothered at the thought of anyone being upset with your gothic, heroin hounding, drug buddy because you're kindred spirits that have bonded over being tortured artists."

"Oh, go read your Bible." He tells me.

"Can't. Nikki set it on fire." I shoot back and Duff chokes on his drink.

"He what?" Duff asks me, like he's trying to contain a little anger over it.

"So we can expect the Sixxes to get a divorce?" Izzy asks me, clearly joking, and I shake my head.

"No, he's just being a junked-out prick." I mumble, crossing my arms.

"Do you wanna get your anger out by aggressively throwing our money?" Steven asks and I blink.

"I'll go politely put the money on the edge of the stage." I say and Duff finishes his drink, setting the glass face down.

"Alright, let's get outta here." He tells me with a sigh, standing up. "We'll see you guys later."

"Alright, man." Izzy nods. "Viv." He adds.

"Izzy." I reply.

"Bye, Viv." Steven and Slash both say and I smile a little.

"Bye, guys."

I follow Duff out of the club, and he nearly trips coming out, causing me to grab at his hand and arm to try to help him keep balanced, and a few flashes go off, signaling paparazzi and I audibly groan as they move in.

My hand shields my eyes as my other hand holds tightly to Duff's arm as asinine questions are thrown at me but I ignore them.

The bastards got a good enough shot at just the right second--with me holding onto Duff with both of my hands, the two of us sharing wide smiles because we were laughing over him nearly tripping to the ground--that it definitely came across as "a picture's worth a thousand words" but the only words told by that picture was that we were a little more than friends...and that's what the headline spun it up as by the time it landed in Nikki's hands.

The argument it led to sparked the birth of "You're All I Need", delivered by the vocals of Vince, from the demented mind of Sikki Nixx himself.

"Where'd you park?" Duff asks me in my ear over the sound of photography and strangers talking at us, and I tug him into direction of my car that's parked down the street against the curb.

"Welp that's something I'm gonna get to explain to Nikki." I state as soon as we get into my car.

"He knows nothing's happening." He replies, laughing it off.

"Yeah, right." I say under my breath, as I start heading down the road. "Where to?" I ask, stopping at a stop light.

"Oh, I don't know I was just trying to keep you from swinging on Izzy." He admits with a chuckle and I shake my head a little.

"I'd never hit Izzy. Axl, definitely, Izzy, no. He's my favorite."

"Izzy's your favorite? How'd that happen? You two are, like, polar opposites." He asks me with an amused smile.

"He agrees that Sid probably killed Nancy." I inform him and he throws his head back and let's out a frustrated, but humorous, groan.

After finally deciding to just get milk-shakes, we sit in a corner booth of Denny's and once we get out orders, Duff's clearing his throat.

"So, I saw you guys at the show earlier."

He tells me and I raise my brows, sipping at my strawberry milkshake. "You didn't tell us you were coming, we could've told them to take you guys backstage."

"We weren't able to stay very long afterwards...Nikki just wanted to see you guys play together live." I explain.

"Oh." He nods, before asking the dreaded question: "what did he think?"

"He digs you guys." I lie, giving a little smile.

The guys never knew Nikki was approached to produce the album, each of them found out later.

I think they're secretly glad he never touched "Appetite for Destruction."

That album would have been an absolute train wreck under his junkie guidance, just like everything else that Nikki seemed to be apart of in 1987.