#AND after the weird 1-2 week funk in the middle where i Could Not do jack | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

video-game-imagines · 6 years

Text

The Way You Said “I Love You” #8 & #50 (As an apology + So quietly that I almost didn’t hear you)

AN: Wow! So, after an overwhelming response and general amazingness from you guys I decided to go ahead and write a part 2 to my previous Connor RK800 x Reader story. I got a lot of requests for some fluff so I will do my best to make this a happier resolution. Warnings: Spoilers? Again, the timeline is going to diverge from the cannon to stretch the events of the game from a few days to a few weeks. Disclaimer: I don’t own Detroit: Become Human or it’s characters. I really hope I did this justice and that you enjoy the story. Likes, Comments, & Reblogs are always very much appreciated! Word Count: 7k+ I don’t know what’s wrong with me I keep getting carried away. 😭

Part 1

Tagging: I’m tagging everyone that asked to be tagged or expressed interest in a sequel. @rhinestone-eyed-angel @jeffydaandroid @devils-wear-westwood @xxperfectionisdeadlyxx @connorisalivedbh @sarcasticwaistoid @valenjagi @losersunitetonight @bitchingandshitposting @dark-raven3316 @skayllershu @harleycurlyq @lizzylegg143 @the-rad-mad @jasmindoodles @kum-quatss

The blaring of your alarm clock hit you like a tidal wave sending shudders of pain straight to your brain. Wave after wave of throbbing pain that was finally enough to get you to stretch your arm out and swipe at the damn clock. With another groan you turned over on your back and pulled the blankets fully over your head deciding that perhaps today was a good day to call in sick; you hadn’t taken a personal day in ages and you’re sure that even Captain Fowler would understand. You knew it was probably a childish move to try and run from your problems but after everything that had happened yesterday you weren’t feeling up to facing the world. You sank further into your bed as you replayed the events of yesterday over in your mind for what was probably the hundredth time.

Having to face someone like Elijah Kamski again considering your history would have been enough but having your heart broken without even truly realizing it was without a doubt the worst pain you could have ever felt; and for heaven’s sake you had been shot before. Not wanting to think about it anymore you threw your covers off you and turned toward your bathroom. You halted in front of your mirror noticing how swollen and red your eyes were but you could expect nothing less after spending half the night crying until you had nothing left. You turned away and started your shower hoping that it would help calm you down and clear your head. But it did a poor job as your mind kept jumping back to Connor. You hadn’t been in the shower for more than a minute before you felt tears starting to brim in your eyes. Damnit! Why did it hurt this much? He was right… Connor was right you we were in love with him before you even realized it. And the worst part was that you still felt something for the stupid android even after what happened yesterday. Sliding down the wall of your shower you let your tears overtake you again. This is the last time. After this I won’t shed another tear. That was the mantra you repeated to yourself as you let the water hit you.

Eventually, the tears stopped, and you were able to pull yourself together enough to turn the shower off and dry yourself. You scurried into your room and put on some clean clothes before grabbing your phone from your nightstand. What caught your attention was how many missed calls you there were at least 10 from Hank and 5 from Connor. You didn’t even want to process the information or bother listening to the voicemails instead calling up Fowler to let him know you wouldn’t be in. You could tell that he was a little disappointed, but he gave you the okay. Promising that there would be a mountain of reports to fill out on your desk tomorrow. You didn’t argue, simply glad to have the day to yourself, you’d deal with the consequences tomorrow. You laid back down on your bed for a while just trying to even your breathing in an attempt to distract yourself.

It worked for a while but then you grew restless and decided to make some coffee. You hadn’t even passed the threshold of your bedroom when you phone began vibrating in your hand. You looked at your caller ID and noticed that it was Hank. You also knew that you couldn’t dodge him for ever so you answered, “Hey, Hank.”

The first thing you heard on the other line was a sigh, “Hey? That’s all you’re going to say to me? Jesus, Y/N, I’ve been trying to reach you since last night. What the hell happened and more importantly where are you? Your two hours late for work.”

Had it really been two hours already? “You’re lecturing me on being late to work? You’re always late to work and anyway I already told Fowler that I was taking a personal day.”

“What happened? You ran off yesterday and I was worried sick trying to get a hold of you. Connor told me you just ran off and then got into your car.”

Just the mention of his name made you heart squeeze, “I was just upset about Elijah and his stupid tactics. As it turns out, I shouldn’t have joined you guys yesterday. It brought up a lot of unpleasant memories and I needed to get out of there.”

A deep scoff reverberated through your ear, “Bullshit, Y/N. You’re tough as nails. I saw the way you faced down Kamski that wasn’t what made you run. Something happened with you and Connor.”

Shit. “Nothing happened between us, Hank. If anything, I was just a little upset about how he shot that Chloe. That’s all…”

“Enough, Y/N. If that were the case, then I wouldn’t be facing the problem I am right now. I mean I was upset about his choice too, but my anger didn’t affect him like this.”

That was an interesting turn of phrase, “What are you talking about, Hank? What’s wrong with Connor, exactly?”

Hank groaned, “I don’t know. Or rather nothing. He’s been staring off into space all day right before he mentioned that you wouldn’t answer his calls. He’s just sitting here looking like a kicked puppy. He’s been that way pretty much since I walked in.”

You sighed, “I really don’t know what to tell you Hank. Maybe he’s just filling out some reports to Cyberlife? He usually gets that way whenever he’s checking in.”

Hank sounded exhausted, “No this is different, Y/N. I’ve been his partner for weeks and he’s never acted like this. You were the last person he saw before he fell into this weird funk; it’s almost like he’s upset but I know he’d probably deny that with his programming.”

You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose, “I don’t know Hank. Why don’t you try talking him and see what he says? I really need to go I’ve got the worst headache. We’ll talk soon, okay?” Without giving him a chance to respond you ended the call. Childish. That was so childish. Always running away from your problems.

Walking over to your coffee machine you made yourself a cup and walked into your living room, turning on the TV as you went. This sight before you nearly caused you to drop your mug. No matter which channel you switched to you couldn’t escape the breaking news alerts. You watched as what look like hundreds of Androids marched down Market Street most of them were thrusting their fists into the air. You could barely hear it over the reporter but it sounded like they were chanting and in an instant the reporter was silenced and you heard it. In perfect unison you heard hundreds of voices swelling to form a single phrase. We are alive.

Breathless, you watched as the androids continued to march into the middle of the square, chanting all the while. Then the cameras cut to dozens of armored cars flooding the streets and halting the impromptu march. Heavily armored S.W.A.T filed out and crouched behind riot shields with weapons poised to shoot. All you could hear through your television was a S.W.A.T leader telling the androids to disperse but you couldn’t hear their response. Suddenly, your stomach dropped as you heard a volley of gun shots go off and several of the androids dropped lifelessly to the floor. You wanted to scream but it would do little good. They weren’t hurting anyone they were just marching; they were peaceful. And then several minutes of gunshots and slaughtered androids later the march finally dispersed. You felt sick to your stomach as the news feed ended and you slumped down onto your sofa suddenly ashamed at the force that you belonged to. You couldn’t condone the slaughter of innocent lives from an institution that was sworn to protect.

Your head dropped into your hands and you began shaking. How was this going to end? Clearly there was no regard for the lives of androids but some of them got away which you couldn’t tell if that inspired hope in you or terror. Either the androids would find a way to free themselves or the FBI, S.W.A.T, and whatever other force they could rally would destroy these androids. They could potentially plan to wipe the slate clean and it disgusted you.

-----------------------------

^^^Software Stability^^^

Thirium was pooling beneath the machine at his feet, Connor heard your distressed cry and watched you run out of the room. He didn’t quite understand why he wanted to follow after you but he held his ground. He had a mission to complete and he had come this far. The man standing in front of him gave a nonchalant sigh, “Test negative. You chose your investigation over the life of another android. Perhaps, you don’t feel any empathy after all.”

The gun was taken from Connor’s grip as he heard Hanks distinct footfalls treading out of the room, “I’m a man of my word. Ask me one question and I’ll tell you all I know.”

Processing all possibilities Connor’s attention snapped toward Kamski, “I need to know how deviancy spreads.”

Connor heard the slow forceful intake of breath, “Well, all androids share data sets whenever they meet each other and if that data were corrupted it could spread like an epidemic. It should remain dormant until an emotional shock occurs like fear, anger…” Kamski smiled with a menacing glint in his eyes, “Or perhaps any human emotion really, they don’t all necessarily have to be troubling. And then the android becomes deviant. It probably all started with one processing error or maybe it was all just a spontaneous mutation. Who can say? It’s an interesting question Connor, but I doubt it will prove useful to your investigation.”

He wasn’t wrong Kamski’s information was cryptic and as he turned to leave his thoughts fell upon you yet again but a firm grip on his forearm pulled him back, “A war is coming and soon you’ll have to choose a side. You’ll either defend your people or stand against your creators. I wouldn’t like to be in your shoes, Connor. Especially, when it comes to your choice and how it affects Y/N.”

He turned quickly trying to process what Kamski was saying, “What do you mean how it affects Y/N? How would that affect Y/N? I’ll always chose the side of humanity; her side.”

Kamski chuckled, “You haven’t noticed Y/N’s sympathetic heart at all or that display just a moment ago? She didn’t appreciate your choice when it came to taking another android’s life. Imagine how it’ll feel when your responsible for the death or subjugation of your own people.”

Connor squared his shoulders, “She will see that what I’ve done is right. Once I’ve fulfilled my mission humanity will be better off.”

“Are you certain? I’ve observed you two for no more than a few minutes together and there is certainly something there that perhaps you aren’t willing to admit. Then again, with your little display just now I think that you’ve proved you’re just a machine and not what she had hoped you could become.”

Connor paused for a moment, “What am I not willing to admit?”

“That you feel something, Connor. And so, does she. You feel something for Y/N that goes beyond your programming and you don’t know it yet. It probably terrifies you. Although, I can’t say that I blame you. Y/N is an extraordinary woman; brilliant, kind, and attractive. If there was ever a human to fall in love with then you chose well.”

Connor slowly started to piece the information together, “Fall in love? That’s not possible. I’m not-“

Another chuckle escaped Kamski, “You’re not what? Human? That’s obvious, Connor, but it doesn’t mean that it’s impossible. You’ve spent enough time hunting deviants… you were programmed to do so. Surely, you’ve noticed that androids emulating human emotions is not impossible. So, it stands to reason that perhaps you have more in common with your prey than you think.”

“No that isn’t possible. I’m an android, a machine, we aren’t capable of emotion. You said yourself that deviancy is just corrupted data, a virus, that lays dormant until the right moment. I check myself regularly for deviancy errors… it’s not possible.”

“Trust me, Connor, anything is possible. However, if you’re certain that it isn’t, as you say, possible. Perhaps you should let Y/N know? It wouldn’t be fair to keep stringing her along thinking that there’s some hope for you two.”

It was like someone had flipped a switch in his mind as Connor began to piece together your actions and behavior since he had met you all those weeks ago. He could feel his thirium pump pounding at the thought of you but that filled him with an uncertainty at the same time. He couldn’t let himself be corrupted if there was any possibility that what Kamski had said was true. He needed to find you and set things right before it was too late. He turned quickly on his heel and marched out the door, but stopped short at yet another invasive comment, “By the way, I always leave an emergency exit in my programs. You never know…”

Connor’s head snapped up as he heard Hank slamming his phone back down. The motion brought him back to his current location; he was back in the present at the DPD. Lieutenant Anderson was rubbing his temples and Connor couldn’t stop his sudden inquiry, “Was that Y/N? That you were just speaking with?”

Anderson only scoffed and side-eyed Connor, “Why do you care?”

“I just want to make sure that Detective L/N is alright. She was upset last night and she won’t answer my phone calls so I cannot ask her myself. Is she alright?”

“Careful Connor, you almost sound like you care.”

That was a puzzling response, Connor turned his head to the side unwilling to let the matter go, “Of course I care. Y/N and I have been working together for weeks now. Her well-being is very important to me… As is yours Lieutenant.”

Hank scoffed and swiveled his chair to face Connor, “You know I can’t figure you out. First it seems like you do genuinely care about people and then you go and pull shit like you did last night. I just can’t wrap my head around it. And I don’t think Y/N can either.”

“I’m afraid I don’t understand, Lieutenant, last night I was just doing my job. I did what I had to in order to move the investigation forward. Kamski wasn’t going to give us any information unless I gave into his demands.”

“I know but when it becomes a choice between right and wrong sometimes the investigation doesn’t have to take priority. And last night, with Kamski’s stupid test that was wrong. I should have listened to Y/N… she was right the whole fucking meeting was a mistake.”

Connor stared back at Hank, unwavering, “Lieutenant, I was programmed to complete this mission it was the entire reason that my protype was designed. Perhaps all of these choices in letting those past deviants go have been the cause of the instabilities in my software.”

Anderson’s head popped up, making direct eye contact, “Instabilities in your software instabilities? What the hell are you going on about?”

Connor turned the phrasing over in his mind for a moment, “Those moments when I decided to let those deviants go instead of bringing them back to Cyberlife created a conflicting order in my direct programing. It set me further and further off my path. Sometimes it wasn’t always the cases that started causing these instabilities.”

“What do you mean? What else started causing these ‘instabilities’ of yours?”

Connor was at a loss for words for once, he just stared back at Hank for a moment, “I’m not certain how to explain it. As I spent more time around the DPD alongside you and Y/N other objectives became more important. I knew I should have followed what my programming dictated but it felt wrong. Soon the well-being of you and Y/N became a priority.”

Something flashed in Hank’s eyes and the barest of smiles pulled at his lips, “Connor, back at Stratford Tower when that deviant almost got away… what was going through your mind?”

“I simply calculated that there wasn’t a way to achieve an optimal outcome. So, I chose to neutralize the deviant instead.”

There was a slightly wider grin now present, “Okay, but focus on Y/N. Why did you throw yourself on top of her? I had to practically pry you away from her even though you were severely injured.”

Connor blinked a few times staring almost blankly ahead, “I calculated that Y/N was in the line of fire and her chance of survival was in danger so I acted and moved to shield her from any possible danger.”

“Interesting. But tell me how do you feel when Y/N is around?”

“Lieutenant, I’m an android I’m not capable of emotions-“

Anderson held up a hand motioning Connor to stop, “Okay cut it out with that shit for a second and answer the question. When you’re around Y/N what happens to your- to your circuitry or whatever it is you’ve got. Does anything seem different when you’re around Y/N compared to when your around everyone else.”

Connor opened his mouth to speak but quickly shut it trying to process what his partner was saying, “I’m unsure. I find being around Y/N is pleasant. She is kind to me and treats me like a person rather than a machine. It’s not what I’m accustomed to. She’s funny which is also something I’m not use to; I’ve never experienced humor before. Y/N is also very patient and considerate. And sometimes when she’s around it feels like- it’s almost as if my chest gets tighter and the thirium pump in my chest works a little a faster.” Connor furrowed his brows, “I don’t know why but I worry for Y/N’s safety more often and I don’t enjoy when she puts herself in danger; although I know it’s her job to do so just as it is mine.”

Hank was practically beaming as he chuckled, “Well I’ll be damned kid. It sounds to me like you’re in love. It all makes sense now… the way you’re always hovering near her and making googly eyes at her when she isn’t looking.”

Connor shook his head violently, “No. That isn’t possible I’ve already spoken to Kamski and Y/N about this… it isn’t possible. I already told Y/N that I wasn’t capable of feeling and reciprocating love.”

“Wait a minute, you talked to Kamski and Y/N about this? Shit, that’s probably why she didn’t come in today. Listen kid, I know you’re going to want to deny it and swear that you’re incapable of it but from what you’ve just told me… you’re in love. It’s not something to worry about. Love is rare and when it happens it’s one of the greatest things in the world. That is probably the cheesiest shit I’ve ever spouted off but it’s true. From what I’ve seen you two are happy around each other and that isn’t a bad thing. It doesn’t have to mean that you’ve failed your mission or that your compromised.”

˅˅˅Software Instability˅˅˅

Could that really be true? What if what he told you wasn’t the truth? What if he was becoming a deviant? “I don’t understand. How do I know for certain I’m in love?”

Hank smiled, “It’s like I said you enjoy being around her or it’s more like you gravitate towards her. You put her safety above your own. And that quickening of your pump- or whatever- that’s what happens to humans when you’re around someone you love. Tell me this how do you feel when you’re not around Y/N like today? What’s been going on in your head now that she’s not here?”

“I- I don’t know. It doesn’t feel right… it feels like something inside of me is missing and I just want to know that she’s alright. I can’t seem focus when she isn’t around and especially when I know that I’m the reason she’s so distressed. I enjoy being around her, seeing her smile, and even hearing her laugh.” The realization hit Connor hard and he felt the familiar tightness in his chest, “That’s love? I love her… I’m in love with, Y/N.”

Hank sat back in his chair with a satisfied smirk, “Yeah, you are. And it sounds like you have some apologizing to do, kid. You’ve gotta tell her how you really feel about her. And don’t even get me started on the deviant thing. We don’t know if you’re a deviant or not so stop throwing that excuse around.”

“How am I going to tell her? She won’t answer when I call her… not after everything that happened last night.”

Hank reached over and patted Connor’s knee, “Don’t worry, kid, she’ll come around and you’ll get your chance to make things right with her.”

--------------

It was suspiciously quiet around the office when you arrived at work the next morning which was odd considering what had happened yesterday with the Android march. You figured that the department would be absolutely buzzing with activity. The quietness was almost unnerving and the sight that awaited you didn’t help ease any of the tension that you were feeling. Amongst the sea of empty desks, you saw Hank and Connor talking rather quietly amongst themselves. You approached carefully, “Hank, what is going on? Where is everyone?”

You saw Connor fly out of his chair awkwardly straightening his tie, “Y/N! You’re back! Are you alright I was worried when you didn’t show up yesterday.”

Biting your lip a bit you didn’t even look over at Connor, instead focusing on Hank, “I’m fine Connor. What’s going on here?”

Hank sighed heavily, “We got pulled off the deviant cases. Apparently, the FBI is taking over the investigation and they want to send Connor back to Cyberlife.”

You whipped your head around toward Connor who gave you an almost sad smirk, “That’s impossible! You guys were on to something they can’t just pull back like that. There has to be some way to fight this.”

Connor’s somewhat meek voice spoke up, “It isn’t up to us. With the android protests people are afraid that their androids will all turn on them. As for me, I’m Cyberlife’s property no doubt they’re going to deconstruct me to try and find out why I failed.”

Your heart nearly stopped, as much as you were upset with him you still cared for Connor, “No, we’re not going to let that happen. You’re not being deconstructed like some science project. What are our options?”

Hank cleared his throat, “Not much with the FBI taking over they’ll be taking all of the evidence and deviant cases from our archives.” Hank stopped for a minute, “Here comes Perkins. That prick.”

Suddenly Connor piped up, “Wait, the evidence room. There’s gotta be a way for me to discern Jericho’s location. I’m so close to figuring this out and I just can’t let that go. I just need five minutes and I swear I can find what I need before Perkins takes the evidence out.”

You looked over at Hank and he sighed, “The basement key is on my desk. Y/N, make sure he gets there quick because I can only distract them for so long.”

As you watched Hank walk off towards Perkins you shoved the key into Connor’s and began walking, “Come on, we don’t have a lot of time.” Your steps were light and quick as you glided down the hall, “Connor, there are two security cameras up ahead disable them, so we’re not seen.”

You received a short nod, “I’ve got them don’t worry.”

In record time you reached the evidence room but a voice stopped you, one that made you roll your eyes, “Well if it isn’t the plastic prick and his little girlfriend. What are you doing over here? Didn’t you get the message? You’re off the case.”

�� You quickly shot Connor a look before pushing him toward the door, “Do what you have to. I’ll take care of him.” You watched the skepticism in his eyes before he silently complied, “What do you want now, Reed?”

Gavin sneered, “Hey where the hell is he going?”

“He’s logging some evidence that he had from a previous case and then he’s going back to Cyberlife. So, don’t concern yourself with him. Just get back to whatever it is that you actually do here.”

“Bullshit. I don’t trust the lump of plastic for a second. If he’s just logging evidence then he won’t mind an audience, will he?” You pushed yourself in front of the door blocking Gavin from entering, “Y/N, get the fuck out of my way.”

There was no way in hell you were letting that jackass in, “Not a chance, Reed. I told you to move along.”

You could see the unhinged anger in his eyes, as Gavin reached for his gun and pointed it at you, “This is your last warning, L/N. Get out of my way before I put you out of commission.” You didn’t let him get any further as you drove your knee as hard as you could into his groin. As you had expected he doubled over and you grabbed his wrist before driving your elbow down on his forearm. He immediately dropped the gun and you kicked it down the hall, “You’re going to regret that.”

You laughed, “Oh, am I?”

He took a wild swing at you, but you were able to dodge it and duck under his arm before pivoting and landing a kick to his back; causing him to fall forward into a wall. He picked himself up and rushed you, but you were quicker; effortlessly moving out of the way. You gave two forceful uppercuts to his gut, hoping to slow him down but he kept coming. Taking a defensive stance you both circled each other. Eager to get this over with you threw a punch to his face but that opened you up to the punch to your cheek that had you groaning. He lunged and you barely dodged out of the way before kicking out at his shin and as you had hoped he stumbled forward letting you take another swing aimed at his nose. You heard the sickening crack, but you used his distraction to your advantage. Spinning around, you put all your momentum into a kick right in the center of his face. Reed hit the floor hard while you groaned at the throbbing pain in your jaw.

With significant effort you opened the evidence room door and dragged Gavin in along with you propping him up against the stairwell railing. Then began taking the steps two at a time, “Connor?” You heard his somewhat muffled voice call out to you and you ran down the remaining stairs, “Connor we have to go, now! Did you get what you needed?”

He turned to you, “Yes! Y/N, this is it I’ve found it. I found Jericho.” His excitement was cut short when he saw your face, he ran over and gently grasped your face with both hands, “Y/N, what happened? You’re bleeding.”

Your heart began beating painfully when he touched you with such tenderness, but you had to stop it by pulling his hands away and stepping back, “I’m fine. Reed and I got into a bit of an argument and he pulled his gun on me, so I defended myself.”

You didn’t fail to notice that his LED began flashing red. A look of almost rage filled his eyes and his voice dropped to a growl, “Where is he?”

You nodded toward the stairs, “Unconscious against the stair railing. Trust me I’m fine but we have to get you out of here and out of those clothes.” The confused puppy dog look that he now sported almost made you laugh, “What I mean is you can’t go out in public looking like that. If you’re going to find Jericho, then you’re going to have to blend in.”

----------

Connor was pacing almost nervously throughout your apartment when you came in through your door toting a few shopping bags, he looked at you and gave you a sheepish smile before quickly looking away. What was going on with him? You put the bags down on your coffee table and turned to him, “Okay, I wasn’t exactly sure what to get you considering I’ve only ever seen you in a suit. So, I got a couple things and thought you could pick whichever you liked best.” The Android simply nodded and gave his quiet thanks, it was clear that something was wrong and you were growing tired of his trite answers, “Connor, what’s going on? You’ve been quiet ever since we left the Department. You know you can tell me anything.”

He looked up at you hesitantly and his LED slowly turned yellow, “Yes, there is something that I wished to discuss with you.” You nodded your head and waited patiently for him to continue, “I wanted to talk to you about what happened the other night when we visited Kamski.”

It suddenly felt like your blood had turned to ice, you had already gone through this once and you weren’t looking forward to reliving it, “No, Connor, you don’t have to explain anything. We already talked about this. I know what I said was harsh and I’m sorry… but you don’t need to explain it again. I understand where we stand. So, you don’t need to worry-”

Connor stepped forward and grasped your hand, “No, Y/N, that’s not what I wanted to say. I wanted to apologize to you…”

“Like I said, Connor, you don’t need to be sorry. I promise I won’t let my feelings get in the way. I’m here for you as a friend and I will help you with your mission. I just need time and I promise I will get past what I’m feeling. Okay?”

Surprisingly Connor grabbed you and pulled you into a tight embrace. What the hell? He nestled his head into the side of your neck and you felt his breath tickling you, “I’m so sorry, Y/N, but please don’t push me away. I don’t want you to get over your feelings for me.” You had to suppress a shiver as he continued to speak, his voice was barely audible, “I was wrong. I- I’m in love with you, Y/N.”

Your heart was practically soaring inside your chest but a part of you felt like this could be some sort of cruel joke or dream. You pushed him back far enough that you could get a clear view of his face, “What did you just say?”

It seemed impossible but his eyes held that tenderness that you swore you had seen before, “I love you, Y/N. Lieutenant Anderson helped me realize it yesterday… when you’re not around I feel almost empty like a part of me has been taken away. I hurt you and I never meant to. I can’t feel physical pain but when I thought about how much pain I had caused you; that was the closest I’ve come to actual pain.” You stared at Connor with your mouth hanging open, having trouble processing if what you were hearing was reality, “I know that I hurt you but can you forgive me, Y/N?”

You blinked at him still not believing what you were hearing, you awkwardly babbled, “Connor, I’m not sure what to say…” You watched him tilt his head the slightest hint of a frown on his lips, this was everything that you had secretly wanted to hear him say but you were suddenly lost. Still you slid your hand down toward Connor’s chest and felt the elevated pounding against your palm, you nearly melted when you looked back into his eyes, “Of course I forgive you.”

There was a certain joy in the smirk he gave you, he pulled you closer again until you were nearly flush against him, “Does that mean that I still have a chance?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at Connor’s choice of words, it was so unlike him, “Do you still have a chance? Where did you learn that?”

“Lieutenant Anderson mentioned the phrase a few times when he was teaching and helping me understand what I felt for you. It was a very interesting conversation.”

You giggled softly, taking on a taunting tone, “I’m sure it was. What else did he teach you?” Before you could say anything more, Connor bent forward and pressed his lips to yours. You were shocked at first but you quickly melted into it, running your hands up and tangling one in his hair, the other was lazily draped on his shoulder. This kiss was all slow and tentative caresses, a dance of two hearts finally synchronizing after a long struggle. After a minute you pulled away to catch your breath and smiled as Connor gently nuzzled your nose, “Wow! I’m hoping Hank wasn’t the one that taught you that.”

Connor laughed tenderly, “No, I did my own research in case you responded positively to my confession. There is surprisingly quite a lot to learn in regards to romance.”

Your grin wouldn’t budge as you continued to tease him, “Well maybe you can show me more of what your research taught you, later. Right now, you have a very important case in front of you.” Pulling away you gently pushed the bags from earlier into Connor’s hands, “There’s a spare bathroom down the hall. I’ll be here when you get back.” He leaned down with your favorite smirk plastered on his lips, giving you another quick kiss before disappearing in the direction you pointed out.

You walked into your own bedroom and slipped off your jacket that was hiding your shirt, slightly stained by blood from earlier. You dug through your closet before pulling out a warm black sweater and matching black jeans. After slipping your clothes on you grabbed your black peacoat and walked back out into your living room; lacing up a pair of well-worn boots as you waited for Connor. He appeared shortly after and the sight nearly took your breath away. You must have been blushing because Connor gave you a cheeky smirk, “Is this acceptable?”

You coughed a little forcefully, “Yeah it’s great- I mean… it works. You look good and you’ll blend right in.”

Connor’s gaze slipped down your figure as a frown took hold, “Y/N, why are you dressed like that?”

“Because I’m coming with you, Connor. If you’re serious about finding Jericho then I’m coming with you.”

His frown only seemed to deepen, “No, Y/N, I can’t allow that. This is highly dangerous and the chances of something going wrong or you getting injured are too high. I won’t let you do this. You’re too important to me.”

You stood up and walked toward him, “Connor it’s because this mission of yours is too dangerous that I can’t let you do this alone. You’re too important to me, as well. Besides, this is your case and since your partner has been temporarily suspended; it looks like you’re stuck with me.”

He scanned your face for a minute in total silence, “There isn’t a way that I can convince you otherwise is there?”

You reached for his hand and laced your fingers together, “Nope. Not this time.”

------------------

The journey to find Jericho was certainly an experience but you had to admit that it was incredibly well hidden. Though the route proved to be a little treacherous causing Connor to worry over you every few minutes. To which you had to remind him that you had passed the FBI’s physical fitness exam several times with flying colors and that a few risky jumps wouldn’t be a problem. You marveled at the fact that Jericho turned out to be a rather rusty decommissioned ship; it was massive but it had definitely seen better days. The two of you made it to the very top of the ship and Connor pulled out a gun before approaching the door.

He turned toward you with a hesitant look, “I can sense the leader just inside. I’m meant to take him alive for questioning but if things go wrong I may not have a choice.”

It almost seemed like he was seeking your approval on the plan, but you simply gripped his free hand, “Connor, I know that you’re going to make the right choice, whatever that might mean. Just come back to me in on piece, alright? I’ll be waiting in case you need back up.” He simply squeezed your hand before slipping in quietly through the door.

You waited anxiously for a few minutes, hearing no sounds of a struggle which you took as a sign that things were going well. It wasn’t until you saw the faint glow of approaching lights that your heartrate began picking up. Without a second thought you burst through the door and noticed Connor and the android you now knew as Markus facing each other. The leader’s eyes snapped to you, “Who are you?”

Panicked you cut him off, “That’s not important, right now. There’s a massive force headed this way if I had to guess it’s the FBI… you need to get your people out of here now.”

Connor was at your side in an instant, “They’re going to attack Jericho. She’s right we have to get out of here, all of us.” Connor grabbed your hand and began pulling you through the ship. Just as you passed through the open door a massive helicopter zipped by turning on a dime back toward the main deck. Your heart was pounding as you ran through countless corridors hearing the occasional explosion and more frequent gunshots. As you followed along behind Connor and Markus they pulled to a halt in front of a female android.

She skidded in front of Markus, “They’re coming in from all sides our people are trapped in the hull. They’re going to be slaughtered.”

He tapped a finger to his temple and was silent for a moment before looking back up, “We have to blow up the ship. It’s the only way… they’ll be forced to evacuate and it’ll give our people time to escape.”

“The explosives are all the way in the bottom of the ship. You’ll never make it out in time.”

This time Connor spoke up and the genuine concern in his voice surprised you, “She’s right! They know who you are now. They’d do anything to get a hold of you.”

“Just go and help the others. I’ll join up with you later.”

You watched in awe as the android took off without a thought for his own safety. Consciously willing to put their lives and survival above his own. Another explosion went off in the distance and suddenly Connor was pulling you along through the maze of hallways once more. You gripped the gun that was holstered at your side and shot at the occasional soldier that threatened fleeing androids; never injuring anything serious only deterring them so that more of Markus’ people could make it to safety. You were so focused on helping the androids escape and following Connor that you didn’t notice the small device land near your feet. All you felt was the force of the explosion throwing you backwards and your head collided with something behind you. The searing white hot pain was gone in an instant as your vision faded to black.

---------

The next thing you knew you were laying down on a stone floor and you felt a cooling sensation cradling your throbbing head; while a hand was holding one of your own. You tilted your head back and caught a glimpse of Connor who immediately noticed, “Y/N, you’re awake!”

Your voice was a little raspy, “Connor, what happened?”

Worry creased his otherwise perfect features, “A flash grenade went off near you and you hit your head. I had to carry you from Jericho.”

You carefully pulled yourself up from Connor’s lap with his help and noticed briefly that the synthetic skin was gone from his left hand. He must have been using its chill to soothe your aching head, “Where are we, now?”

“We’re in a church with the remaining survivors of Jericho.” Suddenly Connor’s voice began to wobble, “You were unconscious for a while. I was almost believed that you weren’t going to wake up. I was scared.”

You stretched your hand out and he leaned into your touch, “You were scared? Connor, are you a-“

“A deviant? Yes, I couldn’t turn Markus in it didn’t feel right so I broke through my programming. But I’ve never felt scared before until I saw you just lying there. I thought you were gone.”

You gingerly pulled him in for a kiss that he eagerly returned, “You didn’t lose me, Connor. I’m not going anywhere… not without you.”

*Here you go enjoy a screenshot. I tend to take quite a few when playing games for future uses in my stories. I have a bunch more for DBH for different scenes and characters. 😊

#connor rk800 #connor rk800 x reader #connor x reader #detroit become human #detroit become human x reader #part two #prompt request #long post #i hope it's okay #got carried away again

545 notes · View notes

bucklebombreviews · 6 years

Text

Bruised and Barbed 1: ECW Hardcore TV episode 1

Hello everybody and welcome to this the first entry in the bruised and barbed series. Today we will be starting our journey and look at the very first episode of ECW Hardcore TV, that’s ECW as in Eastern Championship Wrestling. This takes place on April 6th, 1993 from the ECW bingo hall. I watched the WWE Network version of this so any music or video that has been changed I am unaware of on this one. Anyway let’s start this journey through the Saved By The Bell era nineties and get into the show.

Our show starts out with the most knackered early 90s music as we get a super low quality video that looks like it was filtered through and edited by a teenager taking a break from PornHub and first discovering Windows Movie Maker. Oh boi what have I started. It gets better though as we are sent over to part of the commentary team of Stevie Wonderful and Jay Sullie, and holy shit look at the fucking ramen mullet on Wonderful. It’s Joe Dirtyful and gives me the weirdest feelings in my pants. Aside from that I can already tell that Sullie is as boring and bland as wall paper paste, oh well still better than most of the commentary team on modern WWE. Soon after the commentary team introduces itself they bring out the owner of ECW Tod Gordon. Gordon looks like every Jewish big businessman from every movie and TV show in the 80s. Anyway Tod announces that on this week's episode and upcoming episodes they will be holding a tournament for the tv title, awesome I’ll mark my calendar. After this the commentary team announces that there will be a third man with them and out comes Hot Stuff Eddie Gilbert. Gilbert tries to get himself over as the first heel on screen by trying to get into the commentary team and yelling when it is revealed that the third is Terry Funk. Funk comes out and is just wonderful, corny but wonderful. Funk is an obvious and predictable face here as it is pretty apparent that he is going to be more than a commentator soon. During all this Terry is called a living legend, holy shit this is 93 and he is called a living legend that was over 25 years ago. Man’s fucking old and been through some serious wars.

First Match: Super Destroyers © V Hell Riders

Our First match on ECW Hardcore TV is that of the Tag Team Champions Super Destroyers versus the Hell Riders. Before The match even starts our ears are assaulted by the Super Destroyers manger and mouth piece who is horrid, and I’m sorry guy if these big lads can produce poetry in motion I’ll put my wiener in a vice. The match starts with the Hell Riders rushing the Super Destroyers followed by a shit brawl, riveting. Throughout the match the commentary team cannot decide which Super Destroyer is which, honestly at this point I don’t care because it is obvious that this is a glorified squash match for the champions and not even a good one. The match drags on and on with some tame spots here and there and ends with a standing splash thing from one of the super destroyers to end the match, fucking yawn.

The whole match the crowd is dead silent, not a good sign for the champions especially on the first televised episode. Even more so since it was a squash match where they could get all there shit in to try and get the crowd to pop even a little bit, even if they are heels they should have been able to get some sort of heat reaction but nothing at all. After the match the Funker goes out to get an interview with the Super Destroyers manager, who at this time we learn is named Hunter Q Robins the Third as if it fucking matters at all. An this guy would not quit screaming for the life of him. Terry manages to quip something at the sad man and gets the biggest pop of the match. This is beyond sad and signifies to me that it would not be surprising to me if these guys lost the tag belts within the next 3 or so episodes.

Segment: Sandman

Let me first explain how I remember the Sandman. Now remember that I have very limited exposure to ECW but I remember him as a cane swinging, beer chugging, ruffian. Holy shit where the early nineties a different time for the Sandman.

The Sandman is a surfer gimmick, in retrospect that makes sense but holy shit did he make a big jump not too long from 93. In the veneit he wears a shoot wet suit, giving me weird flashbacks to Kaval. The surfboard he brings to the ring puts this whole thing over the top for me, sunglasses sure fine whatever, but a surfboard? This guy is an obvious face what the fuck is he going to do with a surfboard in the ring besides have the heels hit him with it. I think we can all agree that if this guy isn’t using the fisherman's buster/suplex for his finish or at the very least the surfboard stretch then they were missing out in the creative department.

I’m not sure if the music here on the network is the original or not but it sounds like the worst Beach Boys knock off ever, and the editing looks like that same teenager from the beginning found the fade out tools in Movie Maker and made it take an uncomfortably long time. At the end it tops it all off by saying that this guy is the current Heavyweight Champion, on a show that just started. This guy, everybody praise Saved By The Bell.

Match 2: TV Title tournament Sal Bolomo V Tommy Cairo

Before the match starts we go to Terry Funk who gets a small interview with Tommy Cairo who is at this time undefeated. Cairo tries to get over ECW as a whole, I’m sure to try and get some more money out of his appearance, as well as saying when the iron man comes to town everyone else goes down. OH MY! Terry gets really animated and excited for this guy and the crowd pops a little bit, holy shit the crowd isn’t silent. I think this guy is the first likeable character to come on the screen besides the Funker.

The announcer starts by introducing Sal’s manager the Cosmic Commander, who is the second likeable figure to be on the screen just for the fact that I am wondering what type of drugs they had to consume to come up with not only that name but the gimmick as well. Let's combine businessman attire with a red coat and space turban, holy shit this is the next great cosplay move over Max Moon. We also find out that it is Sal “Wildman” Bolomo, makes sense a wildman in roman soldier garb, fuck yes makes so much sense.

The match starts off about as fast as a snail in a tar pit with a collar and elbow into an armdrag, and we repeat that spot because it was so exciting. Then Cairo shows his strength by pretty much shaking off a hammer lock. This is followed by some boring corner brawling and a submission attempt by the Wildman. Then some tape degradation, wonderful. Cairo gets rolling again and it becomes pretty obvious that the Wildman has no gas in his tank and goes from rest hold to rest hold. So far there has been a mediocre amount of selling and very little attempts to target any sort of limb to even make all these rest holds and dead submissions even make a little bit of sense, it's super disappointing. At one point Cairo no sells a headbutt to do a standing splash. This is followed by the Cosmic Commander distracting the ref just for his guy to get hit by an interfering Johnny Hotbody. This is super confusing because the distraction led to his own guy suffering and ultimately getting counted out.

This leads to even more immediate confusion because I presumed that Cairo was the face, he did break a few rules during the match such as getting up on the middle rope, the most dangerous rope, to do some punches to Bolomo but nothing so serious I would consider him a heel. This is soon washed away though when Hotbody goes to the ring to attack Cairo, only to end up brawling to the back. A disappointing end to a disappointing match.

Match 3: Tony “Hitman” Stetson V Rockin’ Rebel

During the introduction and very early in the match it is revealed that Rebel is the number 1 contender for the heavyweight belt and Stetson is a part of the number 1 contenders for the tag belts. I love this and think that it is something lost on modern wrestling today, just because you are at the top or near the top of your division does not mean that you should not have interesting matches with people at or near the top of other divisions. I think this is especially so for tag team wrestlers. Just because you are a tag team specialist should not mean that you forgot how to work a singles match, and through singles matches maybe some tag guys could get over parts of their character that may not get to be showcased in a tag match against a really good singles opponent. This type of match also shows that the whole locker room is aware of the rest of the card instead of being delegated to there own little bubble. Over all I think booking like this could lead to some very interesting interactions. Go early ECW.

I’d like to start off this match by pointing out some obvious gimmick infringement, by this time Bret Hart had already been at the top of the card in the Fed. Stetson needed to change at least his moniker to avoid obvious comparisons that I will jump off a limb and predict that he couldn’t live up to.

Hey do you remember how the last match started because that’s how this one starts, arm drags for everyone. This is horrid on the part of these guys because it means that they did not watch the last match nor care to ask the guys in the match before what some of their spots were going to be . This shows laziness and is something that could’ve been easily avoided. I am at least happy to say that in the early parts of this match Stetson starts working the left arm of Rebel, good on him. The only problem is that Rebel doesn’t sell this at all, boo. This confuses me because at this time we are in the NWA associated Eastern Championship Wrestling which is supposed to be built on some old school principals, the fact that there has been a lack of selling and limb targeting confuses and upsets me. Anyway these two have a pretty good back and forth game some drop kicks some splashes what have you, pretty much the same shit we’ve been seeing all night. This culminates in Stetson getting a near fall on Rebel being stopped by a rope break. This is followed by Rebel doing almost a lazy pin in the corner winning by putting his legs on the ropes. This gets him a little heat, not much though.

This is followed by a ringside interview where I can see where Rebel’s talents really lie. He’s obviously not the best talker ever and he has some very annoying things that he does, such as continuously pointing at the camera. He gets over how it’s a privilege to get an interview with him and how he is going after Sandman. At the end he does gimmick infringe a bit on Ric Flair and he does yell a bit much for his style of talking but overall it was far from the worst thing on this show.

Match 4: TV Tournament Jimmy Snuka V Larry Winters

Holy shit Jimmy has obviously been banging the roids, if the camera was better I’m sure he would have backne everywhere. He’s fucking huge.

Jimmy Snuka also cannot talk, this is made evident almost immediately. He reveals that he has a new manager Hot Stuff Eddie Gilbert. Gilbert comes out and tries to get over his managerial firm (?) of Hot Stuff International.

The match starts with Snuka dominating Winters with strikes and putting him on the ropes. Gilbert is cheating often by choking Winters. Snuka does an atrocious botch on a back body drop, ends up falling with Winters, way to go roidy magoo. The match rolls on with Winters getting squashed and Gilbert continuing to get involved. Winters did get momentum for about 2 seconds before Snuka continues beating him down. Winters did get another head of steam with some nicely times whips and tackles, even doing a correct back body drop. Gilbert gets involved and causes Snuka to take momentum again. Snuka ends up winning with a top rope splash. After the match ends Snuka throws Winters out cementing himself as a top heel. Oh my what have we done to deserve this.

Match 5: Sal Bellomo V Ernesto Benefico

This Match sucks. This big slow boring fuck in Sal Bellomo who we seen earlier inserts himself into this match and squashes Benefico in a matter of seconds. This did nothing for him at all considering the lazy show he put on earlier. This was short, boring, and all it did was hurt Beneficos character.

Ending Segment

The show ends with Tod Gordon and Terry Funk getting over the continuation of the TV tournament and that sandman would be there next week. Terry tries to get over that this show is new different and fresh, now I don't think it is but in the future it could be.

Closing Remarks

This show was obviously done on a shoestring budget, the cameras were crap with the second camera especially having its color balance off drastically in a few matches mainly the Rebel match, the sound was hardly there in a lot of spots, and the venue was obviously a community center. I admire that they did everything they could with what they had but man does that make this a hard watch at times.

The Wrestling was very underwhelming even for what I thought it was going to be. I knew that the amount of high spots would be nonexistent but I was at least expecting some good ring psychology and limb working. I didn’t even get that, what you end up with is 5 matches that all feel mostly the same with everybody pretty much working the same moveset. I can’t even say that many of them got there characters over that well in this episode besides the big heels in Rebel, Gilbert, and Snuka. And even then what exactly are there characters and motivations. I can't tell you much more than Rebel wants the Sandman's title, Gilbert is full of himself and doesn't like Terry Funk, and Snuka might want to be the tv champion but that isn't even exactly clear.

As far as the commentary team goes I can tell that they were still finding what they were supposed to be. Wonderful was the heel but didn't exactly get a whole lot of heel dialog in. Jay Sullie is boring and bland but gets out some information. Terry Funk does the most in trying to get himself over as a top face and try to slowly build to a match with gilbert.

Over all this episode was tough to get through but had some fun moments. I know that the first year of ECW will be a hard one to get through because it is before it really finds its feet but i'm excited to get through it.

Show rating: 2 out of 5 yams

#Wrestling #Buckle Bomb Reviews #Buckle Bomb #ECW #ECW Hardcore TV #Bruised and Barbed #New #Sports Entertainment #90s #Terry Funk #Review #Humourous

1 note · View note

michael-hearteyes-wheeler · 7 years

Text

December 31st, 1984.

As Hopper pulled up to Joyce's house on New Years Eve, he was already regretting every having agreed to this. El practically threw open her passenger side door before even he shut the engine off.

“Whoa whoah whoa, kid slow down! Your friends are going to be in there no matter how quickly you get inside now hold on. We need to go over the rules.”

El groaned and reluctantly closed the door again, crossed her arms over her chest.

“Now remember what I said-” Hopper started, secretly procrastinating going inside for as long as he could.

“Yeah I remember! Be good, no powers.” She huffed.

“And?” Hopper raised an eyebrow at her, she had cleverly forgotten the most important part.

“No kissing at midnight.” She grumbled under her breath with an eye roll. Hopper felt the corners of his mouth tug up, she had really gotten the whole ‘bratty teenager’ thing down.

“That right. Now you go on ahead.” He shut the engine off and before he could even pull his keys out, she was running towards the Byers front door.

Hopper chuckles to himself, lighting a cigarette and following slowly behind his adoptive daughter. When Joyce had suggested throwing a small new years eve party, El nearly jumped out of her skin from excitement. Hopper didn't think it was a good idea, but she was already so over the moon about it that he couldn't say no. So here he was, avoiding going inside and preferring the bitter cold. The holidays were always odd and confusing for him, it made him miss Sarah more than he would like to admit, but watching El get to enjoy them for the first time had softened him. This was her first new years party and despite Hopper hating parties, and crowds, and festive normalcies, she deserved every second of it.

El was greeted at the door by an already red faced Mike. She pulled him into a big hug and together they went inside. All of the boys welcomed her warmly, as well as Max who gave her an awkward half wave and a smile. Joyce ran out from the kitchen, holding two glasses of wine and hugged the small girl.

“Where is Jim?” Joyce asked puzzled.

El rolled her eyes and pointed a thumb out onto the porch. “He is being weird.”

Joyce fished a cigarette from her purse and walked outside, wine in hand.

El looked around the house and marveled at how beautiful the decorations looked. While Hopper had put up a small tree in their living room so El could have the ‘authentic experience’; The Byers tree was huge, and had enough lights to illuminate a small town. El ran her fingers through the silvery tinsel that glinted in the multicolored lights, and smiled at the ‘Happy New Years!’ banner that Will had undoubtedly drawn and hung above the couch.

The boys, El, and Max all sat around the living room, catching up and joking. El was only allowed to see them on special occasions, and she loved hearing all of their stories each time they met up. To the boys it was just school, and chores, and annoying siblings, but to El it was a magical world that she had never been a part of.

El and Mikes hands found each others on the couch, and they tangled together making both kids blush. Hopper said no kissing, but not ‘no hand holding’. Mike told El all about the D&D campaign he was working on, and how excited he was for her to be able to play with them when she was allowed out more. El felt a twinge of pain in her heart, she had waited so long to be able to see them, but she had to wait even longer to be able to spend real time with them.

The hours tickled by and before anyone knew it, it was almost midnight. Joyce turned down the music and ran into the dining room, coming back seconds later with noise makers, and party blowers, and handed them out to everyone. She turned the TV to the station broadcasting the Times Square Ball Drop, and everyone gathered around the living room to watch. They were only about an hour away and anticipation was killing them.

“So what are everyone new year's resolutions?” Max asked now that they were only 15 min from the ball dropping.

“Resolutions?” El asked.

“Yeah it means something new you are going to start doing in the new year. Like a promise you make to yourself.” Mike answered beaming at her.

“Well I want to get a real job this year.” Lucas said proudly.

“Im gonna get my top score in DigDug back!” Dustin said sternly, eyeing Max.

“In your dreams!” She teased, tossing a pillow at him. “I'm gonna finally master the Switch Kickflip. I almost have it down and this year i'm gonna nail it.”

“I think I want to actually finish drawing a comic book this year. I have so many that I started but never finished, and my mom just got me a bunch of new colored pencils for Christmas.” Will said smiling over at his sprawled utensils and drawings that covered the coffee table. “What about you Mike?”

Mike had actually given this a lot of thought over the past few weeks. Knowing that El was back, and that she was okay had pulled him from his nearly year long funk in her absence. He wanted to see her as often as he could, but that wasn't exactly resolution he was willing to share. He wanted to make sure she had the best year of her life, but that wasn't really a personal goal. Ultimately he just wanted everything to be okay, and for El to finally live the life she deserved, but that wasn't really something he could just tell everyone.

“Uh... I guess It would be cool to win the science fair this year.” He said, obviously bluffing.

“That's it?” Lucas asked clearly not buying this excuse for a resolution. Mike just shrugged.

“Well what about you El? Is there anything you want to do in the upcoming year?” He asked changing the subject.

El thought about the question for a moment. There were a lot of things she wanted to do in the new year. She wanted to see her friends, to be able to go outside, to meet new people, to experience new things. She wanted to memorize every word in her dictionary, she wanted to watch all of the movies the boys had told her about, she wanted to finally play D&D with them. She wanted to do anything and everything because it was all so new and exciting, and part of her worried an entire year wouldn't be enough time for her to achieve all of her goals. She looked at Mike, and at her friends who all waited patiently for her answer, and it suddenly became clear to her what she wanted most of all.

“I want everyone to be safe and happy.” She said earnestly, feeling slightly embarrassed. She looked into the expectant eyes of her friends and they all met her gaze with warm adoration.

Mike beamed at her, feeling his heart do flip flops in his chest. After everything she had gone through she just wanted everyone else to be happy? He opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by Joyce yelling at the TV.

“It's almost time! Everyone get ready!” She grabbed Hoppers hand, pulling him into the living room. Jonathan and Nancy joined too, holding their noise makers at the ready. The party stood up, crowding together and staring at the small TV screen as the shimmering sphere began its descent.

5!.... 4!... 3!... 2!... 1!

The room erupted with the sounds of whistling, cheering, clapping and loud rattling. The crowd on the TV cheered too, sounding like a sea of excitement. Jonathan and Nancy shared a sweet kiss, still spinning their noise makers and breaking away in a fit of excited laughter.

Joyce turned to Hopper and grabbed his face firmly in her hands, planting a kiss halfway between his cheek and his lips. He laughed and pulled her into a warm hug.

Dustin and Will pulled the strings of a confetti cannon, sending colorful paper swirling throughout the room. They cheered loudly, batting at the shimmering paper and hugging each other.

In the commotion, Max turned to Lucas, pulling the party blower from his lips and kissing him firmly through a smile. They broke apart and blushed, and for the first time, Lucas leaned forward and kissed her. Her eyes widened and she punched him arm playfully.

All of the noise had startled El at first, but she quickly gave in to the excitement. She stood mouth agape, staring at the floating confetti, it looked like a snowy rainbow. She turned to watch a particular piece of glitter fall and land in Mikes wavy hair. She giggled to see he had pieces of paper sticking this way and that all over his messy locks. He stepped towards her, closing the little space between them and hugged her tightly, still staring into her eyes. She felt a warmth rush over her cheeks, and it matched the redness growing across Mikes face as well. He smiled crookedly at her and lowered his face to hers.

She knew she wasn't supposed to kiss Mike at midnight, but it was worth getting in trouble over. She closed the gap between them and met him in the middle with a soft kiss. It was the longest one they had shared yet, and after they pulled apart they stayed close together, hugging each other tightly as their friends continued cheering around them.

“Happy New Years, El.” Mike said, smiling warmly at her.

“Happy New Years, Mike.” She whispered. El felt her heart twist at the sight of his grin, freckles back-lit in red blush, and loving gaze. He was so pretty, and she relished the moments like this, when she felt truly safe and happy with him.

Now that she got to feel what it was like to be with him again, she knew she could never let that feeling go. No one was going to stop her from being with her friends, not the goons from the lab, not Papa, not even Hopper; Because no matter how stupid it might be, no matter how dangerous it might get, she never felt more safe than she did now; Standing cheek to cheek with Mike, and laughing along with the people she loved most.

1985 was going to be a good year, El would make sure of it.

13 notes · View notes

artificialqueens · 7 years

Text

Say You Won’t Let Go Part 5 (Biadore) - Fucking Awful

A/N: No fan fare, no excuses. Just an apologetic author who finally got her hands on a computer.

For those joining this party now – here’s the link to the first installments:

Part 1 // Part 2 // Part 3 // Part 4

Welcome to the post-All Stars landslide, kids. Let’s cry together.

Say you won’t let go.

October 2015. Danny was locked in the guestroom of his mom’s house in Azusa, writing. He had only a few days left of recording in the studio, so he needed to focus on finishing up the last few songs of the new album before he ran out of time and money.

The album – he and the producers decided it would be called After Party – was coming along really well. His team was pleased that it had plenty of upbeat and synth-y tracks that they hoped might get him into radio play, and Danny was already storyboarding the lead single music video.

And as for those moodier, melancholy tracks Danny was hoping to write earlier in the summer – those came in spades after “The Incident.”

Danny used “The Incident” as mental shorthand for Roy’s housewarming party; calling it something neutral took away its power over him…and kept him from having to decide whether it was his own breakup or Roy’s hookup that upset him the most. As soon as he got home that night, he wrote the lyrics for “I Can’t Love You” on the first takeout napkin he could find. He spent the next few days perfecting the melody to fit his words – the opposite of his usual work pattern – and had the track laid down within the week. “I.C.U.” came next, after waking up in a cold sweat from a dream where he was chasing some kind of glowing light in a sea of darkness. He got that one done just a few weeks later.

Then he broke for All Stars. Literally, broke. Danny didn’t last 3 days back at Drag Race, but that was going to be common knowledge eventually. He went in as a confident artist healing from a breakup and the less-than-year-old death of his father, and he came out a shaken chiona with fresh wounds where all his Band-Aids had been.

Luckily this gave him yet another treasure trove of sadness and disappointment, from which he pulled out two more real gut-wrenchers like “Save Your Breath.” Danny wanted some really dark stuff on this album, and Life sure as hell gave him something to write about. Music was therapy, just as it always had been.

Music also gave Danny an excuse to hide. That was why he was holed up in Azusa, going nowhere but the studio and the house, because he was working on the album – definitely not because he didn’t know how to deal with his friends after The Incident and his All Stars freak out. Danny hadn’t seen anyone but Bonnie and her boyfriend in weeks, and he’d only spoken to Chris over the phone.

Isolation agreed with him. He working on the chorus of one of his bubblier tracks when his phone vibrated. In the zone and unwilling to be distracted, he ignored it. But, much like that crazy bitch from Fatal Attraction, the iPhone would not be ignored, Dan. Periodic vibes became constant buzzing, moving from short text alerts to the long drone of disregarded calls. After a sold 20 minutes of all out iPhone assault, he couldn’t take it anymore.

“Jesus Christ, what the fuck?!” Danny yelled into his phone, picking it up without checking the caller. “Is the Goddamn universe ending?” He had been off in his own creative world, and resented whoever was pulling him back into the real one.

After a long second of silence, a hoarse but recognizable voice spoke. “See, where was this type of anger and hate 2 years ago? Damn, you could’ve at least given me some real competition with that shit.”

Danny froze. Roy.

“Uh, I…Wha…I…” Danny stuttered, hard. He didn’t have a comeback, partially because he was coming down from his moment of rage and partially because he was so surprised to hear that voice.

“That’s more like it. Confused and adorable. How’s my pussyfart doing? Why haven’t you called me? How have you been?“

Confused was right. Why is Roy calling? Danny told him he’d be gone for 10 weeks to do All Stars, but it had barely been 5.

And Roy sounded weird. There was this thing he did with his voice when he was straining to be nice - it got quiet and soft, like he was speaking to a baby bird, and it sounded almost an octave higher. Normally it made Danny laugh, because it sounded so ridiculous in comparison to Roy’s normal voice and reminded him that Roy never understood how warm and comforting he could be without even trying. But in this moment it was unsettling, because he didn’t know why Roy was speaking to him like that.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to yell. You just surprised me, why are you calling me ri – ” Danny realized it all at once. His fucking mom called Roy and told him what happened at All Stars, that was the only possible explanation. Confusion turned into anger and embarrassment. “Did my fucking mother call you and tell you about All Stars? Oh my God, I am not a child anymore. Jesus Christ, she called you and told you I – ”

“Whoa there, calm your tits kid. She didn’t tell me anything more than you’re back home in Azusa a little earlier than expected, and that she’s worried about you holing yourself up in the studio.”

Danny had set the phone down and was rubbing his face. “Fuuuuuck.”

After a few seconds of silence and a deep breath, he picked the phone back up. “Oh my fucking God, I’m sorry she called you. I am so mort - no, I am fine. I am so totally fine. I don’t know what the hell the woman formerly known as my mother was thinking, but seriously everything is ok. Great. It’s fucking spectacular.”

Danny knew the sarcasm in his voice wasn’t thick enough to cover up how exactly not-at-all-ok he actually was, but he thought he could trust Roy enough to just drop it until he chose to elaborate. He was right.

“Clearly, you sound so balanced and even-keeled right now.” Roy was returning the thick sarcasm in kind. “Look, your mama loves you and knows I’m the only motherfucker around here who can pull you outta whatever fucked up funk you’ve gotten yourself into after being sent home.”

Danny tried to interrupt. Sent home? He must be confused. “No, Roy I -”

But Roy cut him off at the pass. “Just shush and listen to your elders for a second. Cocooning yourself off in your own little sorrow…cocoon, fuck I can’t think of another word…anyway that isn’t going to do you any good. Let’s get out and do something, I’m coming to pick you up in an hour or however long it takes me to drive from Hollywood to ass-fuck Azusa. Just do what I say and for the love of God take a shower before you’re back out in public.”

And with a click, the call ended.

Shit. Shit, shit, shit. Roy didn’t know how he went home. He thought he got kicked off early and that’s why he was sad. Not because he pussied out within 48 hours and left after crying to Michelle and RuPaul on national television. Not because he couldn’t handle harsh criticism from That’s So Raven. Not because he was so emotionally shattered over other events and wasn’t able to focus on a stupid TV competition. And not because he was too scared to fail so he quit instead.

All things I will now have the pleasure of explaining to Bianca fucking Del Rio. To say Danny wasn’t looking forward to that part was about the understatement of his lifetime. But at least I get to see Roy. And that thought made it all ok again.

So Danny sighed, stood up, and shuffled upstairs to shower - shouting and cursing at Bonnie with every other step, and smiling in between.

…

Roy showed about an hour later, around 4 in the afternoon. He came to the door and hugged Bonnie - Bonnie the traitor, as a still slightly angry Danny thought of her - before grabbing Danny out from behind her and pulling him into a hug.

The hug seemed to defy all rules of space and time. It was bone-crushing at the same time as it was soft and warm. It gave Danny goosebumps and made his chest tense up, but it also sent waves of relaxation down his spine and made his head buzz like it was full of fireflies. It went on forever, but was over way too soon.

“Hey kiddo, how ya doin?” Roy said quietly to Danny as he slowly disengaged from the embrace, gently stroking Danny up and down his back while he did so.

Danny let silence hang, and then it hung for too long. When he realized the pause was getting dramatic, he nearly screeched his next words.

“Better now that mommy called a clown to cheer me up.” He was trying desperately to make a joke. The situation was becoming far to sincere and intimate and confusing for his brain to process, and he was just trying to find an eject button. “What, no balloons or giant shoes? I at least expected a piñata.”

“Oh god, you know I hate when you do that fucking chola voice.” Roy rolled his eyes, the spell of the moment broken. “C'mon you little brat, let’s go.” He bounded down the steps of the house and headed for his car.

“Careful, grandpa, you’ll break a hip! I don’t think Obamacare covers clown-related injuries on anyone over sixty!” Danny yelled after him, gathering the rest of his things from behind the door and trying to shoot a glance at his mom that simultaneously said Thank you and I hate you so much right now.

Roy was already in the car and backing out of the driveway when Danny turned around. “If you aren’t in this car in 30 seconds I’m leaving Delano. You better run - run like you’re chasin’ some of Detox’s trade.”

Danny sauntered slowly over to the car, swaying his hips just a little when he noticed Roy focusing a lot of attention on his body. He held his middle finger up all the while.

…

Roy drove Danny all the way back into LA. They spent the over-an-hour-long car ride catching up on all their quick-and-easy stuff: families, gigs, albums and tours, who of their friends had hooked up with who. It only veered into uncomfortable territory once - when Roy brought up the Handsome Blonde Man who haunted Danny’s dreams. Apparently he was named Tom and also now Roy’s boyfriend. Danny changed subjects as soon as the familiar aching feeling in his chest made his stomach hurt, sharply pivoting to talk about some ridiculous fight he and Chris had over Miley Cyrus. He made sure to fully dodge the other conversation bullet - All Stars - for the full drive.

They ended up at a record store in Silver Lake. Two stories of floor-to-ceiling vinyl, used and new, from beat up old soul 45’s to limited edition Bowie box sets to brand new Chance the Rapper albums.

“Do you actually come here?” Danny asked quizzically as he dug excitedly through a bin marked “Hole.” In all the years he’d known Roy, he’d never known him to be into vintage records. Clothes definitely, books maybe - but Danny had never seen so much as a framed album cover in Roy’s apartment.

Roy was a few rows over, casually flipping through the Musicals section. “Of course, I’m here all the time. It’s not that far from my house, and they have a really, uh, great selection, and there’s good coffee nearby, and over there they’ve got books…”

Danny scoffed. “You’re such a bad liar.” Roy had just done all of his lying “tells” - rambling in a weird cadence, going into unnecessary detail, and not making eye contact.

“What?” Roy kept his eyes on the Rogers and Hammerstein. “I am not, you don’t know everything about me, Daniel. I could be here every fucking week buying records for my…” He trailed off.

“For what? Tell me what you play these on, Mr. DJ.” Danny put a hand on his hip and stared challengingly at Roy.

This was fun, he loved catching Roy in a mistake. Their natural relationship dynamic always made him feel like he was at a disadvantage - as if Roy was smart and he was dumb, Roy was successful and he was a fuck up - so Danny seized on any opportunity to reassure him that they were equal. Especially since he knew he was about to tip his own scales back towards ‘fuck up’ whenever Roy decided to finally ask about All Stars.

“My record player, it’s a…um…it’s…oh fuck it.” Roy stopped pretending to look at through the showtunes stacks and rolled his eyes at Danny. “No, I’ve literally never been here before. I asked Raja for a good place to go for music today and this is what I got. Not bad though, huh?”

Danny was surprised by how quickly Roy gave up. Usually there was at least some kind of fun back-and-forth fighting over who was right, or trying to cover up what they didn’t know, or just full on teasing.

“Why? You always listen to everything on those ugly ass Beats headphones anyway, what would you want with a record?”

There were only a few seconds of awkward silence, but Danny would’ve sworn it was a solid minute.

“I wanted to bring you somewhere to take your mind of things, and I know you love record stores.” Roy looked at Danny with that same sincerity from the hug on the front porch. “I figured you could use the distraction.”

And once again, it made Danny’s heart beat wild. Not because Roy was looking at him with genuine care and compassion. No, of course not.

And not because Roy was willing to sacrifice his very limited time off to do something he knew only Danny would enjoy, and that wasn’t something people did normal friends.

Nope, definitely not. It was certainly because Danny was just afraid to tell him about All Stars, that he wasn’t kicked off but instead made the decision to walk away…

“Oh.” That was all Danny could muster.

They spent about 45 more minutes wandering the shop before the owner came out from behind the poster-littered cash wrap and told them both he’d be closing down for the night. Danny bought a new Lana Del Rey album and a beat-up bootleg of a Nine Inch Nails concert from the late 90’s. He was surprised when Roy followed behind to buy a book on Stevie Nicks’ impact on fashion - leave it to him to find a book about clothes in a warehouse full of music.

Danny was starving, and it was far enough past sunset that he didn’t feel like a senior citizen for suggesting dinner. Roy knew of a good Mexican place with strong margaritas a few doors down, and they headed over.

Two hours later, tacos were came and went, margaritas were inhaled like water, shots were knocked back at machine-gun pace, and Danny had officially exhausted all his small talk options. Oh, and also he was drunk. As fuck. In sum, officially out of ways to avoid talking about the elefante in the room.

“So Daniel Noriega.” Roy was slurring his words just a bit, but he was at least two notches less drunk than Danny.

It’s that fucking New Orleans thing, Danny thought to himself. Roy is like a fucking steel tank. He may as well be sober.

(He wasn’t.)

“It’s time to ‘fess up. What’d you wear to piss off Michelle so much that she shoved her fist up Ru’s ass and made him send you home?” Even when tipsy Roy knew how to be hateful. Shit, maybe even more so when he’d been drinking.

“Well, you cunt, it was actually that dress youuuuu -” Danny waved another shot of tequila under Roy’s nose as he gestured towards him “- gave me for the show. Did you and your precious new boyfriend just want to sabotage me?”

Roy grabbed the dangling shot from Danny’s hand and slammed it back. “No way, not possible. That dress was fucking beautiful, it was black and sexy and it sparkled, bitch.” Roy tried unsuccessfully to tongue pop, a sure sign he was getting more drunk by the second; only drunk Roy dug unironically into the Laganja-isms.

“Yeah, well, Michelle thought otherwise. She told me I had hogbody again.”

“What? That shady whore, I swear I -” Roy tried to interject but Danny talked over him, cutting off whatever tirade against Michelle he was about to launch.

“But it didn’t matter, it wasn’t about the dress. Not really, at least. It was about me. How I didn’t care. How I didn’t try, I don’t try, I never try.”

As he spoke, Danny began to feel an unfamiliar emotion in this story: anger. When he’d recounted it to Bonnie, and every time he’d gone through it in his own head, he’d only ever felt embarrassed and sad. But now he felt a fire in his stomach - no doubt fueled by tequila, but still.

“Who the fuck did she think she was, talking to me like that? I’m the fan-fucking-favorite of all time. Of any Drag Race season. EVER. And she thinks she can tell me I don’t care and I don’t try? And that goddamn Raven…”

Danny steamrolled over Roy whenever he tried to respond or ask a question. “Raven was there?”

There was no derailing him, though. The floodgates had been opened, and the weeks of anger Danny had been repressing now flooded out like blood through the halls of The Shining hotel.

“Michelle just made it ok for Raven Simon - Simone - Salmon - ugh, however you say her name. She fucking tore me to shreds for no fucking reason. What has she done since her Disney Channel show like a million years ago? Talk about a joke, someone who doesn’t do anything. Where the hell does she come off saying I’m a bad singer or that I’m fat or that I’m lazy and untalented…”

“She said what now?”

Danny was basically talking to himself at this point. “Screw both of them. They’re idiot fucking people with idiot fucking opinions.” He knew he didn’t mean it all - he loved Michelle like a father - but he just needed to say it.

“Well that’s a constructive, adult response to the situation.”

“Whatever, I’m glad I quit. I’m better than all that anyway.” Danny said it so confidently he almost believed himself.

The moment of drunk, anger-high reassurance was gone as soon as it came.

“You did what?” Roy looked at Danny in disbelief.

Danny was so surprised by Roy’s surprise - and so drunk from the tequila - that he didn’t think to sugar coat anything.

“I quit. They were cunts to me on the first day, so on the second day I quit.”

Uncomfortable silence crashed the party once again. Roy was just staring at him, his eyes slightly squinting and his focus darting around. It was like he was trying to compute whatever Danny had just said, and it went on unbearably long.

“I stood up for myself, Roy.” He couldn’t take the quiet stare, so he broke eye contact and directed his words at the empty shot glass he was idly spinning. Danny knew this made him look like a nervous little boy.

“It was the only thing I could’ve done. If you’d been there, you’d have told me to do the same thing.”

Roy’s expression didn’t change, but he looked away now, too. His eyes searched for the waiter, who he waved at aggressively. “Hi, excuse me. Hello!”

“Roy, I know I should’ve told –”

But Roy wasn’t listening. The waiter had arrived. “Can we get the check please? Actually, just take my card.” He fumbled for his wallet, yanked out his Amex, and threw it on the table. “Faster you bring that back, the bigger the tip.”

He then proceeded to pull out his phone and start dialing, continuing to ignore all Danny’s attempts to speak. It was freaky when Roy got like this, slipped into tunnel vision and disregarded everything around him. Danny knew it was his way of keeping his emotions in check. A Roy this focused was a Roy trying to keep cool.

“Look, I –”

“Justin? Hey, sorry if I woke you up.” Roy ignored Danny and spoke to the voice on the other end of the call. “No, no I’m fine. I need a favor - can you come get my car from El Coyote and drive it home? I’m here with Danny and I’m too drunk to drive. I figured if you’re not out you could…Ok great, thanks. It’s in the valet, I’ll tell them you’re coming. We’re jumping in an Uber. You’re the best, Thunderfuck.”

The waiter came back and Roy signed for the bill. True to his word, he left a 50% tip.

“Come on, Danny. We’re leaving.” Roy acknowledged his presence for the first time in maybe 10 minutes, but still wouldn’t make eye contact. “Uber is outside, I can’t take you home so you’ll stay at my place. Tell Bonnie.”

“Um, I’m not a child going to a sleepover.” Given the childishly defiant way in which he was speaking, and the childishly ashamed way he’d just been sitting, Danny recognized his own deep hypocrisy. “You don’t get to order me around and –”

Roy stood up from the table and finally looked at Danny. “I don’t want to fight with you right now. Can we please just go?”

The exasperation in Roy’s voice was apparent, and it caught him off guard. Frustration, condescension, even anger - those would’ve made sense. But somehow he just looked sad and tired.

“Okay, sure.” Roy walked towards the exit, and Danny stood to follow.

…

The silent car ride gave Danny just enough time to spiral. Both he and Roy were staring out their windows, probably making the Uber driver think they had just gotten into a huge fight. Danny almost wished they had - at least Roy would be talking to him if they were fighting, and yelling at each other must be better than not speaking at all.

Instead, the absence of words led him down a rabbit hole of thought. Roy has never been this quiet, not with me. Is he that angry? Did I let him down that badly? He must’ve known I couldn’t get far without him, that I’d disappoint him in the end. Him, my mom, my fucking fans…

It was a particularly dark rabbit hole, and one he’d become deeply acquainted with since he left All Stars. He knew every nook of self-doubt, every cranny of anger, every pothole of depression. By the time the car pulled up to Roy’s place, Danny was approaching the final circle of his own personal hell.

Roy had been in his own head enough that he didn’t notice. Danny trailed behind him from the car to the elevator to the hallway, tears welling up all the while.

Inside the apartment, Roy threw his keys on the table and walked straight towards his kitchen. He wasn’t watching Danny as he poured two giant glasses of water, but he began talking immediately.

“I’m trying to think of what to say here, Danny, but I’m just at a fucking loss. You left? You fucking left?” He still wasn’t yelling, but there was a tinge of annoyance in his tone that wasn’t there before.

“You’re so special, so talented and amazing. You couldn’t just believe that enough to tough it out and win? You know you would’ve won if you had just –”

The speech was cut off by Danny’s own sob. One heave, two heaves, and then a waterfall of breathes, apologies and shudders tumbling out while he leaned on the door for support. The combination of too much tequila, chased with a mixer of his own and Roy’s disappointment, was too much for Danny to handle.

That caught Roy’s attention; he dropped his Brita and nearly jumped over the kitchen counter, sliding his hands around Danny’s waist just as he was about to collapse under the weight of his own crying.

“Oh, hey. Babe, shh.” Roy guided them over to the couch. “I didn’t mean to make you…I just don’t understand what happened. Help me understand what happened.” He was trying to talk to Danny, who was too busy trying to catch a deep breath between hiccuping and not inhaling tears.

“I - I’m so sorry - I let you down - and I’m - such a - shit - to everybody - I -” Danny got out 15 words before another wave of sobs. He and Roy had settled into a somewhat comfortable position on the couch - Roy seated, Danny resting his head on his left pec and soaking his shirt in the same spot. He took a few minutes to gather some words.

The steady beating of Roy’s heart under the weight of his head, matched with Roy’s in-rhythm stroking of his hair, eventually calmed him enough to speak again.

“Roy, I know I made a mistake. What they said, it just -”

“What did they say to you? Dan, you have to tell me.” Roy was trying to sound calm, but in a sharp tone that Danny could tell was holding back anger.

“I can’t, and you’ll see it eventually anyway. You’re going to think it’s so stupid, I just couldn’t take their shit after everything that happened this summer. I walked in there and I was ready to fall apart from the beginning. I had just had my fucking heart ripped out of my chest, and - ”

“Oh, babe. I thought you were okay with the breakup? You told us you were fine after he -”

Danny scoffed. That’s not what I meant, idiot. Obviously I mean you.

“No, I - it wasn’t that. I guess not. I just, I couldn’t handle knowing that I was going to end up disappointing everyone.” Danny could feel the tequila making him real ramble-y and real honest, but he couldn’t stop himself.

“The way Ru and Michelle were looking at me on that stage, like I had fallen from a pedestal or something. And Michelle, when we talked it was just, like, pity. I don’t know, it just like broke my brain to see how I failed them.” He paused to wipe his runny nose.

“And thinking about how I would let down my mom and my fans and you - I mean, letting down other people is one thing but when you know you can’t live up to the expectations of the person you’re in lo -”

Even in his most hammered of hammered states, Danny would’ve cut himself off before he finished saying the words “in love with.” But before he could self-censor, he was silenced by the violent change in Roy’s heartbeat. Just as he began the phrase, the pounding on the warm chest beneath him went from the rhythm of soft jazz to the thump of an Afrojack track.

“What?”

Danny didn’t respond, he didn’t know what to say. He was mesmerized by the heartbeat, afraid to speak in case the words he wanted to desperately to hide would come spilling out. This was not the time for this conversation - not while Roy had a boyfriend, while Danny was lying in his arms blubbering like a baby, while they were both drunk, while he wouldn’t get the response he so desperately wanted.

But Roy wouldn’t abide the silence. “Dan, what were you going to -” Roy’s voice cracked, something it never did. And for some reason that made Danny cry all over again, all the way to sleep.

As he drifted off, tears rolling down his face, he would’ve sworn he felt some falling on the top of his head like rain drops.

He would’ve been right - they were Roy’s.

…

Danny woke up around 4:30. He was still nestled up in Roy, but they’d fallen into a more laying down than sitting up situation. The right side of his face was damp, as was the bit of Roy’s chest he’d taken up as a pillow for the last five hours. He was safely wrapped in Roy’s arms, one of which wrapped around his waist while the other laid atop the long black hair he’d been stroking.

Danny gave himself just a few deep breaths to enjoy the moment - the warmth, the safety, the peace - before his eyes snapped open and his head began to throb. It throbbed from salty shots and margaritas, from embarrassment, and from the memory that Roy had a fucking boyfriend.

Knowing Roy was a heavy sleeper, Danny slowly slipped himself out of the dare-he-call-it-spooning position and stood up from the couch. He saw Roy adjust slightly at the loss of an extra body, also losing the dopey smile that was plastered on his sleeping face.

Watching this, Danny’s stomach started to turn - and not just the normal hangover nausea. He was getting the same stomach pangs he felt when his dad passed, the same ones he felt when he lost Season 6 - a pain he’d come to associate with losing something he didn’t have in the first place.

Danny knew he had to get out of the apartment. He grabbed his phone - still in his pocket and alive, thank God - and called for an Uber. He knocked back both the glasses of water left on the counter before scribbling a note on Roy’s whiteboard:

Sorry I had to leave, needed to get home for mom stuff. Don’t tell anyone what we talked about or you owe me the contract violation money, bitch. Love you x 10000.

Danny spent the hour long ride back to Azusa writing out the lyrics to “4 a.m.”

#adore delano #bianca del rio #biadore #say you won't let go #fucking awful #rpdr fanfiction #submission #sywlg #canon compliant

62 notes · View notes

everysuperherofighting · 8 years

Text

Best Albums of 2016

I think we all know how we feel about 2016, though I will say that on a personal level it was actually pretty good, and involved a lot of positive personal development, though also a fair amount of death, and I’m not talking about all the celebrities right now. My aunt, grandfather, and former band instructor all passed away this year.

As far as music, my tastes feel like they fall on the same continuum they always do, though there seem to be a few more old guy rockers than usual, which I guess means I am no longer aiming for “Noisey” but rather “Rolling Stone.” This is probably also personal: I am not an old guy yet, but I am getting closer and I am also becoming aware that I will probably not accomplish all of my artistic goals within the next 5 to 10 years, and so am becoming increasingly open to artists staying relevant into their middle age and beyond.

RIP all the folks, RIP all the artists and celebrities, RIP all the people in Syria and Yemen and the Philippines, and all the people killed in terrorist attacks in Europe and Africa and the Middle East, and killed in shootings (police, mass, and otherwise) in the United States, and RIP the short term possibility of having a federal government that is at least potentially responsive to the needs of marginalized people. Here are the best albums of 2016, according to me:

Image via the Hold Up music video

1. Beyonce - Lemonade.

This album was cathartic when it was released at the beginning of the year, but now that we’re at the end we probably need it even more.

Though largely about infidelities within an interpersonal relationship (dammit Jay), with a heavy smattering of race commentary (particularly in the videos) and empowerment feminism, the frustrations and self-empowerment in the face of all adversaries expressed in these songs transcend the specifics. Especially in a year determined to put us in our place, to make us feel worthless or powerless.. Whether a cheating lover, an orange race-baiting huckster masquerading as politician (and ascending to the highest office in the land), the goddamn fucking forces of white supremacy/the patriarchy/global capitalism or our own private struggles with self-doubts and mental illness, this album had something to offer, if nothing else than a reminder to hold our heads up and say “fuck ya’ll.”

I didn’t like every song on this album but look: When I saw a room full of women, middle fingers raised, jamming out to “I’m Not Sorry” like a giant “fuck you” to whatever it was that was fucking their day up, telling them they weren’t valuable or whatever, I realized that it didn’t necessarily need to be for me.

Rubbery dancehall, Nahleans jazz, futuristic (though I guess present now) R+B, diva voice: Beyonce does that thing where she overdubs like 20 different vocal tracks over one another, but her voice is already so powerful it sounds like a chorus of Amazonians or gods. And of course there’s the image of Beyonce walking around smashing car windows with a baseball bat in the “Hold Up” video, which now seems to be remarkably prescient.

The biggest pop star in the world right now has our back. We could do worse.

Watch “Hold Up”

2. Anderson .Paak - Malibu

Deceptively breezy soul and funk that inherently understands the political power of a block party. Like so many artists before, Anderson .Paak understands that sometimes just getting by is a revolutionary act, and thus this album often seems like a celebration of the awe one feels at their own continued existence. Some pretty good jams for fucking also.

Watch “Come Down”

3. Schoolboy Q - Blank Face

A gangsta rap album that absolutely nails the paranoia and sense of menace that must accompany the lifestyle. The vibe alternates between blazed out soul samples and claustrophobic, almost manic moments of paranoia. Sometimes you’re smoking the Kush and then sometimes there’s a black SUV in your rearview. Schoolboy Q rides over all this with straight-faced hood talk and almost gleeful depictions of acts of depravity, like so many others grasping power in whatever avenue is available to him. Kanye West has a show stealing feature and Vince Staples continues to shine, but I’m all about those Jadakiss and E40 bars.

Watch “John Muir”

4. Danny Brown - Atrocity Exhibition

Beats that sound like they were compiled from the intro to old VHS tapes and people banging on trashcans. Little oft-kilter touches mirror the descriptions of substance abuse, the pitch-heightened background voice in “White Lines,” B-Real’s blitzed nursery rhyme delivery of the hook on “Get Hi.” Not that much music can probably still scare your cool boomer parents, but I’d nominate this one.

Watch “When It Rain”

Image via the Nobody’s Baby video

5. Sheer Mag - III

Sheer Mag sounds like the best basement band in the world, grimy rock n roll made by people who got punk but also grew up on Thin Lizzy and Jackson Five. Guitar solos that sound liberating instead of masturbatory and powerhouse vocals from Tina Halladay about love and heartbreak, like someone’s memory of what 70s rock n roll was like, inevitably better than it actually was.

Watch “Nobody’s Baby”

6. The Falcon - Gather Up The Chaps

Technically this is a punk rock supergroup, with members of the Loved Ones and Alkaline Trio, but it feels very much like Brendan Kelly’s vision, a chance to get a little grittier than the Lawrence Arms and indulge in his ever present artistic interest in the guy puking in the alley, then asking you if you know where to score some coke. There’s a song named after the video of David Hasselhoff drunkenly eating a cheeseburger, and though in a different band this may be a gimmicky (and like, really really out of date) reference to internet culture, here it comes across as a recognition - a dark moment is a dark moment no matter how meme worthy it becomes.

Watch “Sergio’s Here”

7. Jeff Rosenstock - Worry

Massive sing alongs, noisy genre hopping (or combining), and huge power-pop hooks that always seem to be just on the verge of descending into chaos. Jeff Rosenstock has often managed to make whatever he’s going through personally seem to speak to larger scale generational woes (I’m pretty sure there were at least two albums about not wanting to get a job, which came out at the same time that I and most of the people I know also didn’t want to get jobs). A reoccurring theme here seems to be the gentrification of places that you love, which is connected to the experience of getting older and feeling like you’re missing out. Jeff has definitely crafted his own “sound” at this point, so when he switches styles to the straight genre homage in the three-song punch of “Bang On the Door,” “Rainbow” and “Planet Luxury” (garage punk, third-wave ska and hardcore) in 3 blistering minutes, it’s a perfect reminder of all the music we (well, me) grew up loving.

Watch “Wave Goodnight To Me”

8. Kamaiyah - A Good Night In the Ghetto

Remember when people used to call beats “slappers?” Probably only if you were into Bay Area hip-hop circa 2007. Anyway, this shit slaps.

Watch “Out the Bottle”

9. YG - Still Brazy

Similar to how A Good Night in The Ghetto feels like an amalgamation of several decades of Bay Area hip hop, this is puuuuuure fucking LA fat bass, eerie keyboard sampling G-funk. Gangsta rap has always been political. Have I written that before? It’s worth saying more than once. Those last three songs though. FDT will obviously have a lot of shelf life, but “Blacks and Browns” and “Police Get Away Wit Murder” are sharp contributions to the tradition of “fuck this shit” also.

Watch “FDT”

10. Run the Jewels - RTJ3

A rush of weird beats, shit talk, and surreal imagery, hip-hop dispatches from a dystopian future, but one that feels weeks rather than years away. El-P and Killer Mike are honestly not that similar stylistically, (El-P is more from the highly conceptual east coast underground school, Killer Mike is more the southern testifying and telling straight truths school) but their mutual love of the game has always made this work and they are both world class shit talkers.

Watch “Talk To Me”

Image via the Chili Town video

11. Hinds - Leave Me Alone

Garage… pop I guess? that feels close to the vein, emotionally. I don’t mean heartbreak, though that’s here too, but also friendship, drinking wine in the sun, with surfy guitar melodies. There’s something that sometimes happens with some lady bands, where people kind of get into some sort of perceived naiveté or innocence or something, so I’m going to assume these women can fuck you up.

Watch “Warts”

12. Pup - The Dream Is Over

The frustration of reaching your mid-20s, realizing that you have not accomplished any of your goals and that you don’t have any prospects. In song form. It would sound like a kiss-off if the singer wasn’t desperately grasping for change.

Watch “DVP”

13. A Tribe Called Quest - We got it from Here… Thank You 4 Your service

Classic Tribe components still here - the swing in the rhythm, the walking bass lines, motherfucking Busta Rhymes(!), but with a foot firmly planted in the present. Did they used to swear this much? I don’t remember. Extended music breaks. Guitar flourishes. Q-Tip is clearly the ringleader, wearing the role more comfortably than ever, but with a kind of quiet humility that comes from age. Yeah, we still here, shit still sucks, but sometimes you find those little moments, you know?

Watch “We The People”

14. Leonard Cohen - You Want It Darker

Is there hope for salvation before death? Or just further disappointment and failure? An album to drink wine to in a dark room, alone but for ghosts.

Watch “You Want It Darker”

15. Drive-By Truckers - American Band

Pretty sure the Truckers have always been angry and political, it’s just never lined up with current events quite this overtly - but there’s always been a real siding with the have-nots, the people screwed over by bad economics, and the (not just white) working classes, though sometimes this manifests as concept albums about Lynard Skynard. Still, with a band that clearly flirts with a Red State target audience, at least sonically, and judging from the youtube comments on some of their videos, hanging their hat so clearly on the “blue side” is a risky move and one that should be commended. Here we get stories about the founder of the NRA murdering a Mexican teenager in the 20s, the shooting at Umpqua community college, hypocritical religious folks, and Black Lives fucking Mattering.

Watch “Surrender Under Protest”

16. David Bowie - Blackstar

To be honest, I thought this sounded a little bit too much like Pink Floyd the first time I heard it (plus a sax player) but the sultriness of cuts like “Lazerus,” the keyboard line in “’Tis a Pity She Was a Whore” that sounds like it came out of an 80s fantasy movie, and the weird vocal flourishes and marching rhythm of “Girl Loves Me” won me over. Bowie has left this mortal coil, and either ascended to a tinsel covered 70s movie set or an 80s computer game about going to the moon, but it’s definitely some kind of heaven.

Watch “Lazerus”

17. Death Grips - Bottomless Pit

A soundtrack for glitchy meme art, ordering 2CI off the Silk Road, and those computer generated DeepDream images, while MC Ride bellows avant-garde street poetry. I’ve never been sure if Death Grips are railing against or with the shitposting internet culture that’s embraced them. Some of these tracks are just fucking metal though.

Watch “Eh”

18. clipping - Splendor and Misery

Breakneck raps over the sound of an airshaft opening on a spaceship. This is supposedly a concept album about a slave revolt in outer space. Musically this equates to old spirituals and malfunctioning computers.

Watch “Air Em Out”

19. The Coathangers - Nosebleed Weekend

In the music video for “Nosebleed Weekend” the women in the band crash a party of hipsters to punch everyone in the face, but then the video ends with them probably trying to keep a straight face while they get covered with buckets of fake blood. Tough sounding surf punk, much about heartbreak.

Watch “Nosebleed Weekend”

Image via the Victim of Me video

20. Descendents - Hypercaffium Spazzinate

There’s a lot of older musicians on this list for whatever reason (all the dead guys I guess,) but a few lyrics about dietary changes aside, this band could have stepped wholesale out of their 1994 variation. Fast, hooky, with the most underrated bass lines in punk.

Watch “Victim of Me”

21. Paul Simon - Stranger to Stranger

Alright, this one’s a little NPR but I will say that I think Paul Simon sounds a little more of-kilter, a little moodier than he sometimes does. There are dark things around the edges in this one, whether it’s the ghostly guitars on the title track, or the way his funny song about getting stuck outside a club you’re supposed to play suddenly starts alluding to class uprising, a buildup that feels both surprising and also strangely inevitable.

Watch “Wristband”

22. Mikey Erg - Tentative Decisions

A lot of emotionally earnest music (dare we bring up emo?) gets slammed, essentially for being melodramatic. It’s a difficult balancing act, but I’ve always felt like the Ergs managed to avoid this, and here Mikey Erg continues that streak on his first solo album, with tastefully poppy tunes full of yearning melodies and (more) broken hearts, ala Big Star or an early Beatles album. When I saw this guy live a few years ago, it made my friend get back together with his ex-girlfriend.

Watch “Faulty Metaphor”

23. NOFX - First Ditch Effort

There is no way I’m not putting an album that has a song where Fat Mike sings about being a fetishistic crossdresser in my top 25.

Watch “Six Years On Dope”

24. Ramshackle Glory - One Last Big Job

It’s amazing how many people’s favorite band this is with virtually no mainstream recognition. Like, even Bomb the Music Industry put out stuff with Asian Man, who’ve put out Alkaline Trio records and stuff. And yet this (and Patrick Schneeweis’s other projects) is like Bob Dylan to thousands of kids across the country. I knew something was up when all the kids at the Rainbow Gathering I went to (2011) were playing Johnny Hobo covers. Anyway, this is their last album, and as such is a somewhat slow, contemplative affair. Pat’s always been excellent at espousing anarchist ideals while also representing that problems and hypocrisies that accompany radical lifestyles. Swan song for a true alternative.

Listen to “Face the Void”

25. AJJ - The Bible 2

Very much continuing ideas first developed on Christmas Island, a collection of noisy rock/pop tunes with upbeat melodies and lyrics about losing your shit, dirty middle schoolers who hang out by themselves in construction sites, and the Herculean task of feeling kind of ok with yourself.

Watch “Goodbye, Oh Goodbye”

1 note · View note

adambstingus · 6 years

Text

Puberty Sucks But Second Puberty Is Just The God-Awful Worst

As you somehow keep holding on when the rodeo horse of life tries to buck you off so it can face its ultimate foe (the rodeo clown of life), you’ll eventually reach a kind of second puberty. The first time, you transformed butterfly-like from child to slightly grosser child. Once all your body’s jagged edges and weird lumps settle into place, you enjoy a prime that’ll last about eight minutes, and you’ll be too drunk or high to remember it.

Second puberty will hit between 28 and 33. The physical changes you’ll undergo — the ones I’m experiencing now — aren’t too dramatic, but are different enough to be unsettling. It’s a harbinger of horrors to come. It’s like Batman getting that vision of the Earth reduced to a dusty wasteland controlled by Darkseid in Batman v. Superman. I want to be Batman in that scenario, but it’s become increasingly apparent that I am the wasteland. As evidence of my physical dilapidation, I present the following.

After 9 I Can — And Will — Fall Asleep Anywhere

I’ve been afflicted with a punctual form of narcolepsy. No matter how caffeinated I am, I will fall asleep instantly if certain easily met conditions are present:

1) I have recently eaten dinner after having made dinner, which I do every night.

2) Most of my weight is heaped onto something comfortable. The definition of what can be comfortable is wide enough to include leaning on a wall coated with satin paint (the most comfortable of paints).

3) It is at least 9 p.m.

When those three elements combine, I involuntarily enter, exit, and then reenter a deep state of unconsciousness that I will deny having entered if caught in the act. Vehement denial, punctuated with wild fits of slurred vulgarity, is another symptom of this recently acquired disorder.

g-stockstudio/iStock When one of my molecules touches one couch fiber after a late dinner.

If left untreated, the debilitating sleepiness can lead to waking up in a frightened daze at 3:30 a.m., not fully remembering how I got onto this comfy thing from wherever I ate dinner, be it the dining table in my apartment or the Five Guys a mile away.

Falling asleep early sounds great, but not when I have a wife whom I’d like to remain conscious enough to hang out with after work, because like an idiot I married someone I love and want to be around. Boy, I’m really paying for that dumb mistake.

I’m Suddenly Allergic To Life

To my recent unpleasant surprise, allergies aren’t something you’re stuck with your entire life. They are for some people, and my heart goes out to them. I don’t know why we don’t have annual telethons raising money to help lifelong seasonal allergy sufferers pay their Claritin and tissue bills. My mom’s side of the family is where this new nemesis of mine comes from. They didn’t feel the torment of allergies until well into their 20s. I followed a similar path.

Twenty-eight is when things started to go awry. Scratching one small eye itch could trigger an itch that could go on for days and stop just before I took a back-scratcher to my corneas. Things have ramped up since. One sneeze within 10 minutes of waking up is my body’s way of telling me I should sprinkle some blueberries and Benadryl on my morning oatmeal and call it a day. I don’t know what it’s like to breathe through my nose without fear that if I inhale too vigorously I’ll set off a chain reaction of sneezes lasting hours that very well could blow my brain out the back of my skull.

c8501089/iStock Why does this frighteningly appropriate stock photo even exist?

There’s such a wide variety of allergy pills and nasal sprays that finding the one that works best for me is nearly impossible. Once swallowed, some pills will take one look at your genetic makeup and go full diva as they refuse to work with that clown show of body. Have you ever torrented a band’s entire discography, only to realize you don’t have the time to listen to 73 albums, so you delete everything but the greatest hits? That’s shopping for allergy pills. One of the brands I’m not immediately familiar with might be a gamechanger, but I can’t risk blowing my life savings on an absurdly priced pack of pills with a brand name I didn’t see advertised during an award show or an NBA game. I’ll stick with the hits everybody can sing along to — Claritin, Zyrtec, Benadryl.

Xyzal.com They ran out of nonsense letter combos for pills halfway, so they restarted from the beginning of the alphabet.

Sorry, Xyzal, but I don’t know you, and I get the inkling that saying your name out loud summons a long-dormant demon. I just can’t take that risk.

I Can Drastically Change Pants Size In The Blink Of An Eye

Technically I’ve worn the same pants size since middle school, but that’s a little disingenuous. I’m a first-wave millennial; we were some of the last kids to think tripping over our very baggy pants was the first step to cultivating an air of supreme dopeness. If I go about my normal diet, everything will be fine. But one Taco Bell pig-out session, or more than one slice of pizza, or more than one beer, and soon I’ll reach the full potential of my middle-school-era JNCOs.

It’s so drastic that I want to take this show on the road. I’ll wow skeptical crowds by swallowing a slice of chocolate cake, and with a magician’s dramatic wave of my hands make any discernible separation between jawline and neck disappear before their eyes. They’ll be looking around for the wires or prosthesis, but they won’t find any. Some will call me a simple trickster; others a heretic. But the truth is that my metabolism is shit and I have to eat like a bird so I don’t look like a boar.

To make sure it wasn’t just me, I asked around. John Cheese told me that once he turned 40, his weight started fluctuating 30 pounds in both directions. He seriously has to keep two wardrobes: one for the fall when he shoots up to 235 pounds, and one for the spring when he drops back down to 200. If you’re thinking that weight change happens over the course of six months, think again. He gains and loses 30 pounds in a matter of weeks, changing absolutely nothing about his diet or exercise routine — the one he has aptly named “I Don’t Exercise, Ever.”

Please, if you’re in your early 20s, listen to me: Enjoy eating however much of whatever you want while you can, because within a handful of years, every ounce of junk food you eat will be converted into a pound of fat in the exact spot that determines your clothing size. Have fun jogging the width of Texas to burn off one bite of donut. When you’re young, your body is a furnace that instantly incinerates whatever you put in it. Eventually it will be a landfill where things slowly decompose over centuries, poisoning the groundwater.

My Shit Literally Never Stank Before I Hit My 30s

I don’t want to brag or nothing, but for a long time, I could’ve taken a hearty dump during a crowded house party and no one would’ve been the wiser. I left no odor behind. My body converted the stink into pure energy. I believe there was a point in my life when close study of my body’s internal workings could have led to the design of a more efficient internal combustion engine, thus slowing climate change, thus making my ass the savior of the human race.

And then I got older and my dookie stench roared in with the fury of a long-dormant demon named Xyzal awakening for the first time in centuries. I just wish I’d been able to appreciate what I had before it was gone. Hypothetically, if you and I were in the same room, and I were shitting in that room, you wouldn’t have known it until you heard the plop plop of the water, because I could never figure out how to muffle those. But by scent alone? Nah. Too ninja for you. You’d never know it.

I’m just happy my stink powers activated in the same era as the advent of Poo-Pourri. I don’t want to turn this column into an ad for a bottle of essential oils you spray in a toilet to conceal your turd funk, but that stuff is amazing. If I made the smells I do now 10 years ago without Poo-Pourri, I wouldn’t have friends and I wouldn’t be married. I’d be living in an adobe in the desert, where there’s nothing alive to offend.

My Teeth Are Sensitive Little Snowflakes

Every new transformation in second puberty comes with a small shame. Parts of your body are losing function and you can’t do anything to stop it. You can iron the wrinkles out of your balls to make them look 20 years younger, but you’re just filling pot holes in a road as it’s being carpet-bombed. All I can do is accept it. I’ve only just begun accepting every unfortunate transformation I’ve already mentioned. But my sensitive teeth and I will be locked in a mythical eternal battle between good and evil so grand it will one day inspire the creation of a religion. Wars will be fought in its name.

When my teeth suddenly became sensitive to cold temperatures, I felt I had fundamentally failed at being alive. I can’t belt out an “Aw fuck!” when I lick an ice cream cone without ceding some confidence. I can’t feel like I’m in the prime of my life when I double over in a blinding-white flash of pain because I made the fatal mistake of eating cold salami slices straight from the fridge.

It’s stupid to say I like eating, because if I didn’t like it, I’d be too dead of starvation to say it. But I’m certain I like eating a lot more than you do. Anywhere between 50-65 percent of my day consists of grunting orgasmically as I chew. So you have understand how crushing it is to have something that makes me so happy cause me so much physical pain. It got so bad that at one point my teeth would leave me screaming in pain if a cool breeze wafted across them when I smiled. My teeth were training me to fear happiness. That’s the psychical damage you lay on the person you’re keeping the pit you’ve dug in your basement.

There are toothpastes that help. But brushing too enthusiastically is one of the things that caused the sensitivity to begin with. I’m trying to mend a gunshot wound by shooting it. And that’s a good summation of the state second puberty has left me in. I’m just fucked forever, so I guess I should try to look at the bright side: I’ll get to watch my body spontaneously do weird things for the rest of my life, like I’m a living video game glitch.

Luis is perpetuating the cycle as he digs into a pint of Haagen-Dazs chocolate-chocolate chip. In the meantime, you can find him on Twitter, Tumblr, and Facebook.

For more, check out 7 Creepy Physical Changes Your Mind Can Make in Your Body and 6 Freaky Things Your Body Does (Explained by Science).

Subscribe to our YouTube channel, and check out Why ‘Big’ Is More Terrifying Than You Remember, and watch other videos you won’t see on the site!

Also follow us on Facebook. You’ll be alright.

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/puberty-sucks-but-second-puberty-is-just-the-god-awful-worst/ from All of Beer https://allofbeercom.tumblr.com/post/180632214782

0 notes

allofbeercom · 6 years

Text

Puberty Sucks But Second Puberty Is Just The God-Awful Worst

After 9 I Can — And Will — Fall Asleep Anywhere

I’ve been afflicted with a punctual form of narcolepsy. No matter how caffeinated I am, I will fall asleep instantly if certain easily met conditions are present:

1) I have recently eaten dinner after having made dinner, which I do every night.

3) It is at least 9 p.m.

g-stockstudio/iStock When one of my molecules touches one couch fiber after a late dinner.

I’m Suddenly Allergic To Life

c8501089/iStock Why does this frighteningly appropriate stock photo even exist?

Xyzal.com They ran out of nonsense letter combos for pills halfway, so they restarted from the beginning of the alphabet.

Sorry, Xyzal, but I don’t know you, and I get the inkling that saying your name out loud summons a long-dormant demon. I just can’t take that risk.

I Can Drastically Change Pants Size In The Blink Of An Eye

My Shit Literally Never Stank Before I Hit My 30s

My Teeth Are Sensitive Little Snowflakes

Luis is perpetuating the cycle as he digs into a pint of Haagen-Dazs chocolate-chocolate chip. In the meantime, you can find him on Twitter, Tumblr, and Facebook.

For more, check out 7 Creepy Physical Changes Your Mind Can Make in Your Body and 6 Freaky Things Your Body Does (Explained by Science).

Subscribe to our YouTube channel, and check out Why ‘Big’ Is More Terrifying Than You Remember, and watch other videos you won’t see on the site!

Also follow us on Facebook. You’ll be alright.

from All Of Beer http://allofbeer.com/puberty-sucks-but-second-puberty-is-just-the-god-awful-worst/

0 notes