#that they had a stellar game plan to avoid possible upsets on their end

[maxellminidisc]

What I find so funny and satisfying about this show so far is that a lot of these slimmer built athletic types keep underestimating the agility of a lot of the people with bigger builds, especially those with round bellies and protective fat layers, only to get themselves twisted up like human pretzels or fucking flung about like house flies with a single hand LMAO

[thoushallnotfall]

God Bless the Children of the Beast - Part 8

Previous // Masterlist

Pairing: The Dirt!Tommy Lee x Reader

Word Count: 3.1k

Notes: Ugh, this one was a chore. I had to rewrite a chunk of it since I changed my mind about some stuff…it was a whole thing.

I am playing chess with so many plot elements right now and some of them are like so freaking long game; like hang with me this is gonna be one of those updates that makes sense 8 updates later. Like I am laying the ground work for the bigger picture I swear it’s all relevant and my narrative choices will make sense later. (probably)

1984 is almost over… 🙃

Warnings: N/A (I don’t think anything majorly bad happens in this update?? So used to them at least doing drugs…)

1984

After your fight with Nikki, the atmosphere on the set of the video shoot had been less than stellar. It’s a wonder you all had managed to finish filming at all.

You were angry at Nikki for what he’d done and for putting you in an awkward position with Tommy, and in turn Nikki was trying to avoid you as much as possible. Then, you felt guilty about keeping the whole thing a secret from Tommy, which made you feel awkward around him; so it was easier for you to just try and avoid him all together if you could.

Tommy was trying to calm Roxy down after meeting his parents, and he was kind of pissed at you for laughing at the whole ‘groupie’ comment his mother had made. Normally you’d be upset about this, but it actually worked out in your favor, since you were trying to avoid him anyway. Still, how long could you keep this up? How long could you keep your distance from your best friend? How long could you lie to him, even if you knew it was for his own good?

The shoot done, you’d all retreated back to the hotel. After a long, hot shower, you called Razzle. You talked to him most nights now; some days it was only a few minutes, just to check in, see how the tour was going, make sure everyone was doing okay before he and his boys went out to party and you and yours did the same. Other times, the two of you stayed on the phone for hours, talking through the night. You had seen the long-distance bills from the hotels when you helped Doc with the paperwork–they were outrageous; but you didn’t care. It was worth it.

You had debated whether you should tell him about what was going on with you and Nikki, just so you could get it off your chest. Normally, if you had an issue like this, you would go straight to Tommy, or in the past Nikki; the fact that they were both at the center of the problem meant you had no one else to turn to. You could talk to Vince or Mick–under normal circumstances you would trust them enough to confide in them, but this issue was delicate; what if something happens and they accidentally told Tommy? You couldn’t risk anyone else close to you finding out and telling him. But then trusting someone new was, for lack of a better word–scary–and you weren’t sure if you were ready to put that level of trust in Razzle yet.

When you called him, you hadn’t really planned on telling him; you were just going to have a normal conversation. But he’d picked up on it immediately; he could tell something was wrong just by the tone of your voice. When he asked you about it, you realized you wanted to trust him, and you decided to take a chance and open up to him.

It felt good to talk. Not just to tell him about the situation, but to tell him how you felt about it. Razzle listened, telling you he honestly wasn’t sure what the right thing to do was, but that he was there for you, and you only had to call if you ever needed anything. Just listening was enough; just being there was enough.

And you really did love him for that.

—

After the shoot, there had been a noticable change in the dynamic of your group. No one wanted to talk about it, but the difference was obvious. You could barely stand to be around Nikki; between your anger at his actions with Roxie and his increasingly rude and inconsiderate behavior towards everyone, you found yourself fighting with him more and more each day.

Then there was Tommy. He and Roxie broke up, so that was one problem solved; but just like he always did after a breakup he was extra clingy with you now that she was gone. He wanted to hang out all the time, and that had caused some problems. For starters, while Roxie may be gone, you were still dealing with the weight of the her secret sex with Nikki, and knowing about it made being around Tommy awkward for you. You tried to suck it up and act like nothing was wrong, but it was obvious something was on your mind, and you wished Tommy would just give you some space so you had more time to process everything.

Then, there was the other issue that had come up between you. You had made it clear to Tommy you needed some time to yourself every once and awhile, and he seemed to agree, in theory. Then, in practice, would still bug you whenever he felt like it. Sometimes, he came to bother you in the middle of your phonecalls with Razzle. The few times this had happened, things had not gone well.

Tommy would insist you hang up and spend time with him. You would of course tell him no, saying you would hang out with him later. Usually, he would leave, pouting like a child. Later, he would spend the whole time complaining about Razzle; which annoyed you to no end–and you made sure to tell him so. That would only pissed him off more, and you two of you would both leave angry.

The last time he came in while you were on the phone, he’d been high, or drunk–or both–and when you refused to hang up he’d come over and done it for you. You’d gotten into a huge argument–something that had never happened before–and you made him leave, locking him out of your room.

Ever since your fight, Tommy had been walking on eggshells around you. He knew he’d fucked up, but he didn’t know how to fix it. You knew he couldn’t do anything; he’d apologized, but you were still upset. You just wanted to get away from all the drama–from Tommy, from Nikki–where you could relax and you didn’t have to worry if someone was going to yell at you for something or if you were going to get into another argument.

You weren’t essential to the band, it had occurred to you that maybe you could just go home for a week or two; take a little break? The guys wouldn’t love that idea, but no one could argue that things weren't strained right now. You could use some time apart. You hadn’t been away from them since they’d become a band–you’d all been living together the whole three years since they’d formed Motley Crue. It would be strange to be away from them after being together for so long, but then again some distance was starting to seem like exactly what you needed. And they do say absence makes the heart grow fonder; maybe taking some time apart would help heal the rifts forming in your most important relationships. Even if you didn’t love the idea of being alone, it would be worth it to get away for awhile.

As you drop your bags in yet another empty hotel room, you spot the phone on the nightstand, and an idea suddenly occurs to you. A crazy idea; maybe a great idea, or maybe a totally stupid one. Either way, the boys will absolutely hate it.

You pick up the phone, dialing the number and giving instructions to the receptionist on the other end as you sit on your bed.

“'ello beautiful.” Razzle greets you, and you smile.

“Hey Nic, how’s it going?” You ask, twirling the spiral cord around your finger.

“No' too bad; the boys and I jus' go' back.” He answer.

“Oh, that’s good.” You say, biting your lip, unsure of how to proceed.

“Is everythin' awlrigh'? You sound upset again.” He asks. “More trouble wif your brofa? Or is it Tommy this time?” You sigh, grateful he brought it up so you didn’t have to.

“Um, well I mean yeah, sort of, but, that’s actually not what I called about.” You say.

“Oh?” He asks. “Do tell.” You take a deep breath.

“I was wondering what you would think about me maybe coming to stay with you?” You ask, nervous. “Just for a little while.” You add hastily at the end.

“You wan' to come wif me? On tou'a?” He asks, clearly surprised.

“Yeah; I, I mean if you and the band don’t mind.” You reply.

“Of course I don’t fuckin' mind!” He says, clearly excited; and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. “But wha' about the Crue? Won’ they be angry you’re off tourin’ wif another band?”

“I’ll handle the boys.” You assure him, smiling into the receiver.

—

“The fuck do you mean you’re leaving?” Nikki asks as he looks at you, your bags at your feet.

“Exactly what I said; you need it in writing?” You snap.

“Would you stop being a fucking bitch for five seconds and explain to me what the hell you think you’re playing at?” Nikki spits back. “You can’t just fucking leave!”

“Newsflash Nikki; you don’t fucking own me! I can do whatever the hell I want!” You shout, throwing your arms up.

“Okay, okay can everyone just chill out for a second please?” Vince asks.

“Stay the fuck out of this Vince.” Nikki sneers as he looks over at the blonde. “This isn’t any of your fucking business.”

“Don’t fucking yell at him!” You say, scowling at Nikki as he looks back at you.

“We’re gonna get kicked out of the lobby soon.” Mick comments absently.

“Y/N please don’t go.” Tommy begs. “We can talk about this.”

“I’ve made up my mind Tommy.” You say firmly, crossing your arms.

“Where you gonna go, huh?” Nikki asks. “Back home? You live in my house y/n! You can’t go home–I won’t allow it!”

“'Allow it?’” You repeat in a mix of anger and disbelief. “God you have been such a fucking asshole lately! What the hell is wrong with you?” You yell back at him, exasperated. “And for your information no, I’m not going home; I’m going to stay with Nic.”

“Nic?” Nikki looks at you confused. Then, realization spreads across his face. “Oh hoho! You’re going on tour with Razzle and the rest of those fuckers in Hanoi Rocks!”

“What?” Tommy scowls. “You’re going on tour with another band?”

“I’m going to stay with my boyfriend, who is currently in a band that is touring.” You try dodging the question with a half-truth.

Technically Razzle wasn’t your boyfriend yet–but that was only because the two of you didn’t have time to talk about it over the phone before you had to leave to catch your flight. You expected that’s where things were headed though, since you were going to be touring with him now, so it wasn’t a total lie.

“Boyfriend? Since fucking when?” Tommy shouts.

“That’s none of your fucking business.” You snap, taken aback by his sudden change in tone. He had been so desperate and kind a second ago.

“So what? You a fucking groupie now y/n? Huh? You just gonna hop from one band to another whenever it’s convenient for you?” Tommy asks, clearly pissed. You look back at him like you’ve been slapped in the face. You clench your jaw as tears start forming in your eyes.

“Fuck you Tommy.” You whisper, tears sliding down your cheeks.

“Y/N–” He calls out to you, but you ignore him; grabbing your bags and heading out the door.

—

You stand outside waiting for your taxi as the tears continue flowing down your face. It was all too much, and as much as you hated people seeing you cry, you just couldn’t hold it in anymore.

Nikki was changing. It had been happening for awhile, but you had tried to ignore it; made excuses, played it off. Now there was no denying the truth: the brother you knew, who hurt himself to save you from your mother and her shitty boyfriends, who went hungry so you could eat, who took beatings to protect you–he was disappearing. This new Nikki was someone else, someone dark, and controlling. Someone who didn’t care about hurting the people he cared about–even you. You saw less and less of the Nikki you knew everyday, and you worried one day you’d look at your brother’s face and see a stranger staring back at you.

Then there was Tommy. That sweet, simple boy you meet three years ago. Your best friend. There was more to Tommy than that now–maybe there always had been, and you just never saw it. You didn’t understand how Tommy could be so sweet, then act so cruel. You didn’t understand why he got this way about Razzle; it’s like ever since you’d started seeing the other drummer, it had brought out the worst in Tommy.

As you stand under the awning waiting for your taxi, tears still staining your cheeks, you hear the doors to the lobby open behind you. You turn and see Vince and Mick walking toward you. You quickly wipe your face on the back of your arm and smile up at them.

“Hey, sorry you guys had to get stuck in the middle of that.” You say, doing your best to sound cheerful.

“Not the first time we’ve been in the center of a public shitshow; though usually there’s more nudity involved.” Mick says, the corner of his mouth turning up slightly. You know he’s trying to cheer you up, and honestly it works. A small giggle escapes your lips.

“We can still fix that if you want to y/n.” Vince says, winking at you. “I’m always down for a little public nudity if you’re involved.”

“I’d like to not get arrested tonight; but thanks anyway Vince.” You say, smirking at him. He shurgs.

“Your loss.” He replies, looking away. After a moment, he looks back at you, a more sincere expression on his face. “By the way y/n, I wanted to say…” He trails off, rubbing the back of his neck as he looks down at the pavement awkwardly.

“What?” You press. It was unusual for Vince to be at a loss for words. He sighs, then looks back up at you.

“I just wanted to say you shouldn’t listen to Nikki and Tommy–they were being real assholes, and they were wrong.” Your eyes go wide as you stare back at him in shock. You knew Vince and Mick felt bad for you, but you hadn’t really expected them to openly take your side against their bandmates.

“Look, you’re not a bitch, and you’re definitely not a fucking groupie, okay? I mean if you were then I think I got fucking jipped.” He says with a laugh. You’re too surprised to laugh at the joke, not that it was that great to begin with.

“With jokes like that it’s amazing you ever resisted his charms.” Mick comments, and that manages to get a laugh from you. “He is right though; those two were total shitheads and I don’t blame you for wanting to split. You deserve to be happy, and if that frilly English shit makes you happy, then I say go for it.” You’re taken aback by the sincerity in Mick’s words. Vince comes over and puts a hand in your shoulder.

“Look, try not to worry about what Nikki and Tommy said, okay? They’re just pissed because they’re used to having you all to themselves, and they don’t like the idea of having to share you. So go have fun with your English boy toy, and just know we’ll be here if you ever get homesick.” You look back at the two of them, and you feel your heart swell so full it aches.

Nikki and Tommy had been the people you were closest to since the band formed; Nikki was your brother, your rock, your oldest friend. Tommy had quickly grown to be your best friend, your closet companion, the person you trusted most. But you couldn’t forget how much you loved Vince and Mick; they were your brothers just as much as Nikki and Tommy were. You had been through so much with both of them, and just because you were having problems with Tommy and Nikki, you didn’t want to punish Mick and Vince for that.

You feel tears well up in your eyes as you grab hold of Vince, hugging him tightly as you bury your face in the crock of his neck.

“Thanks Vinny.” You say as you squeeze him tighter. “I appreciate it.” You let him go, and his cheeks are flushed as he looks away.

“Yeah, whatever.” He says, and you laugh, whipping your eyes. You move over to Mick and wrap your arms around him.

“Give us a call every once and awhile so we know you’re not dead.” He says, and you laugh as you pull away.

“Yes dad.” You reply sarcastically, and he scowls. You smile, moving to give him a quick kiss on the cheek. His eyes go wide as he stares back at you in surprise. “I promise I’ll call as soon as I get there, okay?” He looks away.

“S'all I’m asking.” He mumbles.

“Hey, why does the old man get a kiss?” Vince whines, and you laugh.

Just then, the taxi pulls up to take you to the airport.

“Well, looks like my ride’s here.” You say, trying to mask your sadness by turning away from them. You move to get your bags, but Vince grabs them before you can. He winks at you, and silently moves to toss them in back of the taxi.

“It’s not forever; I’ll see you guys again in no time.” You say cheerful as you look at Mick, who just nods in response, looking lonely. You take one quick glance back at the lobby doors, before turning to the taxi.

“Thanks for grabbing my bags Vince; maybe there’s a gentleman buried in there somewhere after all.” You say, smirking.

“Don’t hold your breath sweetheart.” Vince jokes, smiling; though you both feel the sadness behind it. As you pass him, you lean in and give him a quick peak on the cheek. You smile as Vince laughs.

“There, now you’re even.” You say, before getting into the taxi. You shut the door, waving out the back window as you watch the two of them get further and further away.

[kiwisfics]

Toshinori x Kody - Retail

A/N - A rude customer caused me to need to vent. It was the first time someone has been rude to me at work and I nearly went into a panic attack. You could just as easily replace “Kody” with “kiwi” in this, because Kody’s character was just completely me in this.

X

If there was one thing Kody loved—besides animals, animals were the best—it was people. They had unending possibilities lying in front of them, unpredictable and complex. She loved to make them smile, even more to spark laughs, even the lightest enough to brighten her already beaming smile. She loved people, but she hadn’t planned on working retail.

It felt like a dirty word. Everyone had their horror stories if they worked retail, and she was just a bunch of broken pieces pushed together and periodically broken once again. She wasn’t made for the stress of customer management.

She hadn’t argued when Toshinori had brought up the idea of a job - more to benefit her in the hours he was away than anything. She’d nodded along and perked up greatly when he mentioned a frequent stop of hers—a toy shop, she loved toys! Mostly collectibles and stuffed animals, but still—had been advertising openings in the stocking department.

Granted, she mostly perked up because he had brought home a stuffed cat from said store, but she applied the following day regardless.

It didn’t take long for the managers to notice her affinity with people. She had a knack for making them comfortable and happy and she soon found herself spending most of her shifts stationed at the front of the store. She didn’t mind, even those who seemed to be in less than stellar moods never picked at her too much, always offering a smile or, even if nothing, holding back on harsh words.

But retail is retail.

It had taken her awhile to become comfortable with the phone calls, she never had been a fan of those, but she happily chirped away answers to the customer on the other line—motioning a customer to come to her register, before putting the call on hold and repeating the questions she didn’t know the answers to into the radio. Her motion was ignored, but another cashier sent the customer in her direction.

She’d just finished her questions when the customer made her way to the counter.

“How long have you been working here?”

Kody blinked, thrown off by the question, “A while?” Her signature smile had fallen, but only on account of confusion, her answer coming out as more of a question.

“Well, you must not like your job, you’re not very customer friendly. I had you yesterday too. You should have called me forward when you were ready.”

She was speechless. It was spoken in a way that facaded as neutral, but the anger was clear. She’d never been anything but polite to any civilian—on or off work. Unsure of what to do, she avoided eye contact and swiftly and quietly did her job, retreating into herself.

As always, she handed the receipt over, hands shaking as barely contained anxiety forced its way out. The woman rose her brows, “Have a good day?”

Once again the words came out as a question. The situation was almost surreal. She was, probably, the most friendly of all the cashiers, not that the others were bad in anyway, she just enjoyed speaking to people, even if only for a moment. She thrived off of the interactions.

“That’s better. You’re lucky I didn’t call your manager.”

As the woman headed off, Kody’s shaking hand pressed the Mic on her radio, “I need to take my fifteen minute break. Or a five minute. I just need a break.” She darted off to the back of the store, shaking all the while. Any confidence she had gained from the positive reflections her managers had given her on her work was shattered.

Like the kicked puppy she was, she stumbled away to lick her wounds.

___

She was quiet that night, tapping away at a mindless game on her phone with a far off look in her eyes.

“Kitten?”

She almost forgot for a moment why she was upset, the warmth of the nickname and its affections running over her.

“Do you think I’m bad at my job?”

Toshinori balked. She always came home tired, but rarely complained about anything more than sore feet, and she’d never questioned her ability before. He’d watched her work a few times, sneaking in before her shift ended to walk her home, and she rarely lost her smile when a customer was in front of her. Occasionally she would be frazzled by simple malfunctions in the machines or her own simple mistakes, but she was always bright. If anything, the customer service representative any manager would be proud of.

He might have been a bit biased, but she was good at her job.

She went into the story, fingers shaking again as anxiety flared in her gut.

“You were on the phone, Kody. You couldn’t have called her forward.”

“I just don’t know how I did anything to seem rude or whatever she thought I was.”

“Some people are just like that, sweetheart.”

“I know but-”

“Come on, lets get your mind off it.”

“How?”

He grinned, and before she had a chance to blink, his fingers dug into her stomach, eliciting a squeal.

“Toshi no!”

He laughed as her own degraded into snorts, but the moment her fingers reached his armpits, he fell back, his own laughs turning into pleas for mercy.

Finally, they stilled, quiet pants coming from both of them, eyes glowing and smiles so wide they might’ve pulled a muscle in their cheeks.

“I love you.” His words were soft, spoken as if it was the first time he’d said them.

And, like always, they covered her like a weighted blanket.

Kody placed a chaste kiss against his lips, using her position above him to her advantage. “I love you, too.”

…

“I hope she gets a pebel in her shoe and can’t get it out for a few hours.”

“Even your revenge hopes are adorable.”

[junker-town]

The Vikings and Saints gave us an ending for the ages, breaking a curse that never existed

Marcus Williams missed a tackle that led to one of the greatest playoff endings ever. It was unfortunate, and that’s all.

If the Vikings were going to exorcise the demons of so many playoff heartbreaks, this was the only way: An accidental Hail Mary as time expired thanks to a fortunate whiffed tackle.

The last time the Vikings played the Saints in the NFC Championship, Brett Favre threw a terrible interception at the end of regulation that led to an overtime loss. The Gary Andersen miss begat the Blair Walsh miss, which are branches from the roots of the 1975 Hail Mary loss to the Cowboys.

It’s fair to say that Vikings fans deserved this, especially the specific euphoria that comes from a win like this.

To be a sports fan means chasing that feeling — for a lifetime, if you must. There are tangential benefits to fandom, like interpersonal relationships and easy weekend plans. Those benefits are staked in the idea that something like what the Vikings achieved Sunday night is possible: A miracle, just for you, to validate all that time you’ve spent on your favorite sports team.

Diggs’ 61-yard reception — in which he leaped, caught the ball, avoided a would-be tackler, spun quickly, and tip-toed down the sideline to the end zone — will be remembered for the rest of human history.

So will the safety who missed the tackle, Marcus Williams, who put his head down and tried to take out Diggs low, with his shoulder, and ended up missing Diggs completely.

That’s where this gets messy.

#saints Rookie safety Marcus Williams feel to his knees on his way to locker room after his missed tackle cost saints the game and then inside the locker cried with his head in his hands.

— Alex Flanagan (@Alex_Flanagan) January 15, 2018

Yes, Williams should have been less aggressive. If he simply lets Diggs make the catch in front of him, he can likely wrap him up for a big gain but nothing more. Even if Diggs gets by him, he would likely slow him down enough that a teammate or two could catch up and make the stop.

Williams screwed up at a level of magnitude he almost certainly won’t screw up again. Yet, there was a reasonable explanation for what Williams did. The Saints committed four pass interference penalties on the day, and a fifth would have given the Vikings the gain AND stopped the clock with just a few seconds left. Williams wanted to take down Diggs, but in a way that couldn’t be construed by the referees as a penalty.

Marcus Williams had a spectacular rookie season, and could have a stellar career. He was trying to make the right decision and not interfere. As a competitor, I'm sure he's crushed. I invite Nola to be encouraging and supportive as well as we move on. -SG

— Steve Gleason (@TeamGleason) January 15, 2018

The play was actually a good example of the Expanding Brain-level intelligence required to play NFL-caliber football. In a split instant, Williams processed the time, the situation, the way refs had called the game up to that point, and what was happening in front of his face into the decision to tackle low. He over-thought it, as K.J. Wright noted after the game. The rest is history.

Williams vowed after the game to make sure nothing like that ever happens to him again. Getting over the play won’t be easy, however. In the same way that Vikings fans celebrated the win as an extension of themselves, Saints fans felt the loss as a personal injury. Williams’ Wikipedia page was edited in the minutes after the game to note that he missed “the easiest tackle in football history” and ruined “the playoff hopes and epic comeback of the New Orleans Saints.”

Before that, the Wiki page said something much more vile that isn’t worth printing here. You’ve been on the internet, so you know how this works. And if you don’t, just wade a bit through Williams’ Twitter mentions. Williams just finished an excellent rookie season and may be on his way to an excellent career, but his legacy will forever be the Minnesota Miracle.

That’s the problem sometimes with sports fandom: Fans often use the same license to take joy in their favorite teams as license to hate. The two are necessarily tied together once you start believing that your sports team is you, that what happens reflects your own worth, and that things like playoff curses are real and transferrable.

None of those things are true, though. Curses have never existed, and you don’t have to be upset that a sports team lost in heartbreaking fashion if you don’t want to be. The way fans internalize and respond to moments like these is out of tune with the fact that football players are just dudes — Williams is 21 years old — making instantaneous decisions that are informed by the whole. Sometimes those individuals goof up. Sometimes the goofs are well-meaning. And sometimes those well-meaning goofs lead to catastrophic outcomes because football is cruelly engineered.

If I were a Vikings fans, I would be leaning into this catharsis hard. I would be yelling SKOL!!!, and eating hot dish and booyah and playing Duck, Duck, Gray Duck until the sun came up. Hell yeah, an undefeated streak of heartbreak has ended and now we’re one game away from the Super Bowl. This is the reason anyone bothers with sports.

If I were a Saints fan, I’d probably feel pretty crappy right now, and maybe for several days, and maybe even periodically over the next several months or years. But I don’t think I’d be mad at a guy who is good at his job and did what he believed to be best, chasing a euphoric feeling like the rest of us.

Remember: You can feel however you want at any time. Maybe — say, if your team has appeared in four Super Bowls and lost them all — you can say you deserve better. But nothing is owed in sports. If you don’t get what you deserve, you can call it a curse, or just acknowledge that the whole exercise is silly sometimes. Once-in-a-lifetime touchdowns are only one way to feel better about yourself. If you’d like, you can exorcise your demons at any time.