#and cops are starting to fuck with us here more. i've gotten bruised up a couple times from being shoved around
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have not left bed today + found out another friend got locked up + want to beat up every single adult that saw what was happening to me and looked away or actively made it worse
#personal#vent#suicide mention tw#i need to call her. last time we talked she said she was going to kill herself if she got incarcerated again#i love her. nothing makes me more angry at so many systems than trying to do suicide support with my friends who are locked up#trying to do this shit over the phone with people listening in. trying to figure out what meaningful support we can even give#because when she says that death is better than months of solitary i know exactly how she feels and what she means and i cannot fucking#most of the skills mainstream peer support has ever taught me are useless in that situation and my best is not enough#there are so many places that need to be burnt down.#there are so many people i love who are not out and it starts to kill me a little bit#and cops are starting to fuck with us here more. i've gotten bruised up a couple times from being shoved around#nothing too bad yet but just#jesus christ#sorry for coming on here to vent all the time but my offline life is a little crazy at the moment and half this shit i can't talk about irl#i honestly think i need to like. start learning how to fight properly again. bc i have so much anger right now#and learning how to actually fight sounds like a better idea then fucking off and getting into random fights like i used to#idk. will look into it
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Gateway Drug | Part Forty-Two
Table of Content or Part Forty-One
Read here on Wattpad
Words: 3.6k
Warning(s): Explicit language, explicit sexual situations, miscarriage
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I had miscarried a week before the four month mark, and despite the large amount of stress I was under, I was told my body showed signs of preparing to discard the pregnancy, anyway, and it was estimated there hadn't been a heartbeat for almost a week prior.
I planned on telling Nikki before my stomach grew to an obvious size, but I managed to keep it under the radar and it just looked like I was gaining some weight.
Andy had taken me, in and out at consciousness, to the hospital after Nikki's blue color started to miraculously subside and he decided it was better to keep the freshly overdosed heroin junkie away from anyone who could notify authorities.
A D&C was performed, I was given hospital-issued pajama pants since I wasnt wearing any, told not to use tampons, insert anything into my vagina or have sex for two weeks, and I was sent on my way.
"I-I heard the nurse say something about a failed pregnancy." Andy tells me, hesitantly, as we head back to the apartment to see if Nikki's still there.
"They thought it might have been one, but I told them I wasn't pregnant and they decided it was a serious spell of period cramping." I reply.
"You don't fucking pass out from a period cramp, Vivian."
"I passed out because I was in shock from Nikki being blue." I argue.
"That was a lot of blood to be--"
"Andy, until you have a uterus that sheds once a month, you don't get to make the rules as to what's a normal amount of period blood and what isn't." I cut him short and he sighs out.
"Got it, Viv."
When we get back to the apartment, it's empty.
The Rat is gone, and Nikki's gone.
"Do you think he's back at the hotel?" Andy asks me and I pray in my mind he is.
"Maybe he is." I tell him.
I have to give it to Andy, he managed to get Nikki breathing again while simultaneously trying to get me to regain consciousness...all while on heroin himself.
Vince killed his drummer, and he still saved Vince's bassist.
I get back to the hotel, Doc interrogating the front desk, demanding to know where I went and if she's seen me recently.
"Doc, chill out." I tell him, rubbing my eyes and he sees me and relief washes over him.
"Where the fuck have you been?!" He shouts at me. "I was about to call the cops, Vivian!"
"I know, I'm sorry, I just had to go to the doctor for lady issues." I tell him and he looks at me like I've lost my mind, looks at Andy and throws his hands up.
"All you kids are fucking impossible, holy shit!" He calls out, stepping to the elevator.
I turn to Andy, smiling tiredly up at him.
"Thank you for helping Nikki." I tell him.
"I'd do it ten times over, Viv." He replies.
I try my hardest to memorize him, snapping a mental picture of his soft smile, his liner smudged eyes, his clothes...preparing for this being the last time I ever see him, because at the rate he's going, he'll be dead in a couple years.
Tears blur my vision, but never break over my lashes, and I hug him to me.
"Take care of yourself." I tell him calmly. "Please."
"Oh, I'll be fine." He replies, squeezing me back.
When we pull away, his hands hold at either side of my face.
"Keep your head clear." He tells me one last time and I nod.
To this day I still hear him in my mind when I'm overwhelmed.
"Keep your head clear."
I get up to the room to pack, thinking of what the hell to say to Nikki.
He's getting out of the shower when I get in, bruises covering him from where he was hit with the bat, and his chest is bruised from CPR.
I decide not to say anything, ignoring him when he tries to talk to me.
"Baby." He states, realizing I'm purposely ignoring him.
I just fold my dirty clothes up and put them in my bag.
"Vivian." He tries again. "I really don't need you to be pissed at me about this, Viv."
Again, I don't say a word.
I try to head to the bathroom before he's grabbing at my arm, stopping me.
"I over did it, I know I did. I'm sorry, alright? Just please talk to me."
"I'm going back home." I tell him and he looks shocked before his face suddenly scrunches up.
"What?"
"I am going back to L.A." I repeat.
"Why?"
"Because I'm not hanging around to see you pick up where you left off before you nearly died, Nikki, and I know that the second we get to the next city, you'll be pinpointing a dealer as soon as possible." I state.
"I--Viv, I made a mistake, I understand that I made a bad call." He tries to reason with me before snatching my shirt out of my hand before I can pack it. "Will you listen to me?"
"Why? You never listen to me." I hiss at him and his eyes glass over in tears.
Instead of yelling at me, or arguing, he puts my shirt in my bag for me, and helps me pack the rest of my stuff before he gets dressed and gets his own stuff together. "I just want to go home." I finally tell him, feeling a little guilty for being mean to him after what happened to him.
"I know." He says lowly, sitting next to me on the bed. "I just don't want you to."
"I'll only be a phone call away, and the tour will be over in less than a month and you'll be back in no time." I point out.
"Yeah, I guess." He replies.
"Just, please, be careful." I plead, grabbing his hand.
He looks at me and nods a little.
"I will, Viv. I promise." He assures me.
It was bullshit. Two days after that, he was hanging out with Tommy, Rodger Taylor and Robin Zander, at dinner and when lines of power rails of coke were offered to them, Nikki snorted all of it on his own.
But I wasn't worried about Nikki. I prayed for him before I left London and that was that.
I bombard Steven when I see him by Duff's car in the parking lot, wrapping my arms around him tightly, nearly crying tears of joy.
"Have you gotten taller?" I tease, ruffling his fluffy blonde hair.
"Nah, maybe you're getting shorter." He replies as I put my bag in the trunk.
"Short-stop." I shoot at him.
"Firecrotch." He replies without missing a beat and I can't help but laugh.
"You've been hanging around Izzy too much." I point out, getting into the car.
When we get to their apartment, I set my bag on floor by the door and look around at the shithole it is.
"The guys are out, I'm about to go see if I can find 'em if you wanna come." Stevie offers.
I shake my head a little, already knowing how I want to spend my night.
"No, thank you, just wanna shower and get settled." I explain, and he nods.
"You're gonna have to air dry because we don't have towels, and we don't have hot water." He adds. "Also, pee in the shower if you gotta pee because we don't have a toilet anymore."
"What about if I need to do the other?" I ask him and he rubs his lips together.
"We usually just do that in our friend's apartment down the hall. Apartment 205." He informs me and I raise my brows but don't say a word.
"Got it." I reply.
"Alright, well, I'm out." He tells me.
"Okay, see you later tonight." I reply, shutting the door behind him.
I turn to face the mess that is their apartment and I take a breath and get started.
I'm just getting out of the shower by the time I hear the front door open and close, and I hold my arms over my chest and peak my head out of the bathroom, seeing Duff's lanky frame in the kitchen, the only light is from the small lamp on the floor in the living room.
"Hey." I tell him, and he turns around, brows raised.
"Oh, shit, hey." He chuckles off his startledness. "Are you done with your shower?" He asks and I nod.
He's stepping to me, his hand holding out a cheap towel.
"Steven said you were crashing here tonight so I went and got some things...I knew you'd appreciate a towel." He tells me and I chuckle, grateful for his consideration as I step back into the bathroom to wrap up in the towel and step back out to my bag to get pajamas. "I got some shitty sheets for that mattress." He motions to the one bedroom. "And a blanket because we don't have any."
"How do you guys stay warm then?" I ask and he shrugs.
"We usually go home with girls who have blankets." He chuckles and I shake my head a little. "At least they do. Anymore I come back and crash here." He adds. "Also, thank you for cleaning." He notices the much more organized and clean apartment I'd been working on ever since Steven left three hours ago. "Which brings me to my last purchase I know you would need." He puts a can of disinfectant spray on the counter next to the blanket and sheets and I can't hold back to laugh that comes when I see it. "I suggest using the whole can."
"I'm planning on it don't worry." I chuckle as he takes can of spray and the sheets into the bedroom.
I'm assuming to spray down the mattress and put the sheets on.
I dry off and towel dry my hair before slipping on a pair of pajama shorts and a Crüe band tshirt.
Once I'm done in the bathroom, I see Duff sitting on the couch with his bass and I sit beside him as he goofs off with it for a couple minutes before I point to a note his finger is on.
"What's that?" I ask him, curiously.
"J." He tells me and I furrow my brows a little.
"There's a 'J' note on bass?" I ask and he nods, his expression serious for a moment before he cracks into a smile. "Duff, I'm serious." I push at his shoulder lightly and he chuckles.
"I don't know what note it is." He tells me.
"Bullcrap." I state.
"I'm being serious. I don't know a single name of any of the notes."
"You play by ear?!"
"Yep."
"Why?!"
"I just wanted to play bass. I didn't want to learn it step by step. It's obviously working out for me the way I do it now, so." He shrugs. "Is that not what Nikki does?"
"Yeah...but he's Nikki I don't expect him to know all of it. He sticks to the same template of decently easy notes in every song anyway because he's too fucked up to remember anything elaborate." I tell him and he chokes a little, looking at me.
"That's mean." He points at me.
I think about it for a second and sigh out.
"Yeah, you're right. I'm just tired and moody I guess." I mumble, running a hand through my hair.
"Do you need to go to bed?" He asks me.
"Probably." I admit, seeing it's 1:17am on their crooked wall clock, standing up and stretching.
I look towards the bedroom, then to Duff and back to the bedroom before sitting back down.
"What is it?" He asks me.
"I'll just chill here with you for a few more minutes." I tell him.
"Okay."
I lay down, my legs curling to my chest as the top of my head brushes against the side of his thigh, my eyes closing.
I'm probably asleep for another hour before I'm being woken up.
"Viv." Duff slowly shakes me awake and I groan a little, blinking up at him.
"C'mon, I'm helping you to bed." He tells me and I nod sleepily, taking his hands as he helps me up.
I'm half asleep when I fall to the matress on the floor and he chuckles at me grabbing the blanket to cover me up.
"You good?" He asks me after covering me up and I nod. "Okay, I'm crashing on the couch if you need anything."
"Sleep in here." I tell him, rubbing the sleep from my eyes in an attempt to wake myself up a little.
It's obvious he's thinking really hard about the invitation.
"Please?" I ask. "I don't like sleeping alone."
He thinks about it for a moment longer before getting his boots off, laying down beside me as far away as possible, not even taking his jacket off.
"Goodnight, Viv." He says.
"Goodnight." I barely mumble back.
This is where the very strict "friends" line that separated Duff and I began to slowly blur, and I despised myself for it.
I'm tired, but I can't bring myself to sleep, turning to face Duff.
I wonder if he's asleep.
"Duff?" I whisper.
"Hmm?" He replies.
He's laying on his back with an arm tucked behind his head, the other across his abdomen.
I think about how he kissed me, and how did it like he meant it, openly and honestly, and I freaked out over it.
And why?
Because of Nikki?
I remember the reminiscent feeling I got with Duff, when he made his drunk move, mirrored how I felt when Nikki first made his five years ago.
My eyes go back to the blonde beside me, the temptation to either scare him away or draw him in more is pulling at me strong.
"Take your jacket off." I say to him lowly and he looks at me in the dark of the room, the only sliver of light coming from the neon glowing lights of the strip.
"Viv." He says it like he knows what I'm thinking he's begging me not to because he couldn't possibly resist.
I sit up getting on my knees, pulling my tshirt over my head and discarding it.
"Shit." He mumbles to himself, sighing out as I crawl to him.
All it takes is my leg swinging over his hips to straddle him and he's caving.
He doesn't dare make a move to touch me, probably trying to decide if this is real or not, until I'm pressing my lips against his, moaning softly as my nipples gently rub against the fabric of his clothes.
My hands grab either side of his unzipped jacket, pulling him up to a sitting position, pushing the leather from him, he discards the jacket across the room and my hands run down his arms to his wrists to guide his hands to my hips as I slowly start rocking against his groin as my forehead rests against his, my breath catching in my throat as pleasure sparks through me.
"Fuck, Viv..." he breaths out, finger tips lightly pressing into the flesh of my hips.
Pull up on the bottom of his shirt, leaning into him when it's off, feeling his skin against mine as our lips meet once more before I'm running my tongue along his bottom lip to give him the hint.
His hands move to my ass, guiding the slow, needy movements of the junction of my thighs against the hardness in his pants.
Our tongues tangle together as he moves one of his hands up to run his thumb against my nipple.
I whimper, the ache in my core growing stronger as he gets comfortable and shifts from being shy and acting like he doesn't know what to do, to complete dominance, pushing me onto my back, my hair hanging off the foot of the bed.
He takes his pants off as I pull at my shorts, rubbing my thighs together, looking up at him as he gives me a happy smile, pressing his lips to my ankle, working his way up inch by inch, worshipping me with each caress, each kiss, each move.
He's running his tongue against my clit, eliciting another moan from me, my back arching as my hands fall into his blonde hair.
When he hits a certain spot, I gasp, my eyes nearly watering.
"Right there, please, Duff." I quietly whine out a beg.
He listens, continuing to move his tongue against me, causing me to resort to shallow breaths as pleasure builds.
One of his hands goes to my breast, rolling my nipple between his fingers, only encouraging me to grind into his face with his slow, savoring, pace.
I'm coming before realizing it, my toes curling, his name catching in my throat as I arch my back.
He looks like he's about to go back for seconds but I'm sitting up and pulling his lips to mine before taking my hand and wrapping it around his prick.
The thought of it inside of me sends me into overdrive and he groans out as I run my thumb over his tip, my thigh hooking around him as my legs spread, wanting him inside of me.
I fall back on the matress taking him with me as our lips stay locked, and both of his hands are on either side of my head as we break our kiss.
"Are you sure about this?" He asks me. "I mean really sure. I don't want to hurt you, Viv, I--"
I cut him short, giving him reassuring kiss before looking up at him again.
He nods, as if convincing himself to disrespect Nikki and our marriage as he jerks himself off a couple of times before placing his head at my entrance.
He slowly pushes himself in, and by the time he's in as far as my body has room for him to be in, he's grasping the blanket we're on, under his hands, obviously trying to keep his control.
"Are you okay?" He asks me, giving me time to adjust to him.
I don't answer, my hands pushing at his sides to get him to pullout of me, and he thinks I want him off of me, nearly moving completely out of me before I'm wrapping my legs around him, causing him to push back into me.
The feeling forces a loud, wanton, nearly pornish sound from me and he realizes I want him to keep going.
He smiles to me, kissing me again while pulling out and thrusting back into me, gently.
"Duff," I start, breathing out.
"Y-Yeah?" He asks, stopping suddenly.
"I'm not gonna break." I tell him with a shy smile as a subtle hint to screw me into the mattress.
He's chuckling a little, loosening up, before thrusting into me a little faster, rougher, and harder.
"Fuck, Duff!" I can't control myself, my nails screaming against the skin of his back as his length moves inside of me addictively.
He repeatedly hits against my tender cervix, and the thought of him finishing inside of me is fucking crazy but nearly primal.
"You feel so fucking good." He tells me, his cigarettes laced breath adding to the comfort of him pulling pressing his body against mine, taking my lower lip between his teeth.
My fingers curl into his blonde hair, my nipples aggressively move against him with his desperate pace.
"I'm gonna come." I tell him, my eyes closing, my lips slightly opened as tremors course through me.
I cry out so loudly he has to put his hand over my mouth incase any of the guys are home.
Tears roll down my face as he picks up the pace, chasing after his high with my legs locked around him.
"I love you." He tells me, his lips brushing against mine.
"I love you, too." I say back, my hand going between my legs to play with my clit to try have another hit before he finishes.
His hand is moving mine out of the way and rubbing at me far better than I can in my love-high state.
More of my juices flood onto him as my brain fills with more endorphins, my eyes heavy with a floating high.
"I'm about to come." He tells me.
"Come in me." I tell him, hazily, not thinking clearly.
"Viv, I--"
"Please, I wanna feel it, Duff. I wanna feel you." I beg, arching into him, pulling his hips into mine with my thighs.
He doesn't argue, cursing out as streams of his cum pump into me.
He doesn't get off of me until he's finished, the both of us laying in silence as nausea forces it's way through me.
I'm sitting up, throwing up, my body sweating and my face soaked with tears.
I realize I'm throwing up on the living room's stained carpet as Duff startles awake from where he fell asleep beside me on the couch.
Izzy's passed out on the floor on the other side of the coffee table and I look at the clock to see it's 5:00am.
"Viv, are you alright?" Duff asks me, but all I hear in the sound of his voice is the terrifying idea that I just dreamt up an entire fantasy about him that seems so unbelievably realistic, that if he weren't still fully dressed, jacket and boots included, I would swear it actually happened.
My heart sinks to my stomach.
I need Nikki.
It was one hell of a foreshadow.
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A Love Like No Other
Jacob Seed X OC Ana Pearce
Warnings: Violence, Smut, Mention of Abuse
Word count: 1664
Chapter One
Moving to Hope County was one of the best decisions that her parents ever made. It had everything; forests to explore, mountains to climb, places to visit and very nice people. Ana Pearce, absolutely loved Hope County already and it had only been two days since her and her family moved to the County.
Upon arriving to Hope County, The Pearce Family was invited to Hope County Jail, where they met the County Sheriff. The family was given an option to choose from three different regions. Going through the pamphlet, Ana immediately fell in love with one region known as, Whitetail Mountains. It was perfect for her. It had so much more forests, mountains and a hotel. Unfortunately, her parents had chosen to live in Holland Valley instead. Not that she complained, it had forests to explore as well but not much like Whitetail Mountains.
It was a Sunday morning, everyone was still asleep after being exhausted from all the unpacking they had to do. Except for Ana, she was always an early bird. She was super keen to go out and explore today. The only problem was, she had controlling parents, who could get abusive if one of their children did something wrong or disobeyed their rules. Ana and her two sisters have experienced what it could be like if they disobeyed their parents but their older brother, Blake, always disobeyed them. Back in New York, he'd always sneak out of the house and meet up with his friends, drinking and partying till midnight.
For the parents, Tim and Kelly, they didn't know the difference between abuse and teaching their children a lesson. For Tim, taking his belt off and hitting his daughters with it, meant that he was being a good parent and teaching them a lesson. To others it was straight out abuse and he had gotten into trouble many times but never learnt his lesson. Kelly was the same, she'd use anything that was hard to teach her children a lesson but never had gotten caught doing it.
That's where the brother comes in. Tim and Kelly feared their son Blake. Many times he had fought back and left his parents with bruises or cuts. Since then, Blake had sworn to protect his sisters from copping anymore abuse from their parents. Now the girls lived freely. They were able to do whatever they wanted, no matter how angry their parents got and that's why Ana decided that she was going to go out and explore Hope County.
She tippy toed into her brother’s room, to let him know that she was going out. "Blake? Wake up?".
"What?" Blake said, opening his left eye only.
"I'm going out to explore a little bit. I want to see what this place has to offer" Ana explained to her brother.
Blake's other eye flung open wide and he immediately sat up. "Go back to your room. I'll get changed and come with you".
Ana was happy to have her brother come along with her. At least now her fear of her parents were completely gone. "Ok" she said and quietly made her way back to the bedroom.
-
"Mom and dads going to get angry" Ana said as she walked beside her brother.
"Fuck mom and dad. What are they going to do when I'm around?" Blake said, trying to reassure his little sister. "They won't hurt you Ana".
Ana smiled at her brother and continued to follow him. They came across as sign that pointed in the direction of a busy but small town. Blake looked at the sign, "Falls End" he read out loud and the two of them continued to approach the town.
"Looks really busy" Ana said as she looked in every direction and saw crowds of people walking around. "Must be a popular place, Falls End".
"Anywhere that has a bar, is always popular. Let's keep looking around and see what else we can find here" Blake said and started walking again. "Hey, I've got an idea".
"What's that?" Ana asked.
"You remember that church we came across, while driving past?" Blake asked.
"You mean that church on that little island type of thingy?" Ana looked at her brother and noticed a cheeky smile on his face. "That's so far away. We can‘t walk all the way there".
Blake took out a set of keys from his pocket and dangled it in front of Ana's face. "We'll just have to borrow mom and dad's van. Come on".
-
After sneakily borrowing their parents van, Blake and Ana finally arrived at the church. It seemed to be another popular location in Hope County. There was a line of people, waiting for the church doors to open. Ana and Blake joined the line, both curious to see what the big fuss about this church was. Not long after, the doors finally opened and the line started moving slowly. Walking in, Ana and Blake saw four people standing on the stage, waiting for everyone to take a seat. The two siblings decided to be the only two to stay standing, while everyone sat down.
"Blake, I've got a bad feeling about his" Ana whispered to her brother. "I don't think this is a normal church. Look at these people. Most of them are wearing the same clothes and those guys are holding guns".
Blake looked around and realised that his sister was right. Something seemed odd about these people. He was getting some bad vibes from the men that were holding guns and noticed that they continually looking at Blake and Ana.
"We should go" Ana whispered again.
"I don't think so. Those guys are constantly watching at us. Just stay cool" Blake ordered his sister and looked back at the man standing on the stage.
"Welcome my children. It's so great to see everyone here today" the man with the bun started speaking.
As he continued to talk, Ana looked around the church, examining every single person. As she looked to the left of the stage, she made eye contact with a man that stood with his arms crossed around his chest. He was wearing a camouflage jacket, which Ana made out as an army jacket. He had ginger hair and facial hair and what looked to be scars, painted all over his arms. The man continued to stare at her, making Ana feel incredibly uncomfortable. Yes, he was good looking but the way he looked at her was intense. It seemed like he could sense her fear and that he was feeding off it.
The sermon went on for a good hour but when it finally ended, Blake and Ana couldn't wait to leave before anyone else noticed them.
"We should go" Blake said to Ana.
The two of them were just approaching their van when they were suddenly stopped by the men with guns. Blake and Ana came to an immediate stop and looked at each other.
"Who are you two and what are you both doing here?" One of them men started questioning them.
"Listen, pal. We didn't come here with any bad intentions. When we saw a church, we thought we'd check it out" Blake started explaining.
"The Father would like to see you two in the church" the other man informed them.
"We didn't do anything wrong" Ana said, scared that something bad was going to happen.
"Ana" Blake pushed her behind him and continued to reason with the guys. "Look we are new here and were just checking things out in Hope County".
"Tell it to the Father" the guy said and pointed the gun at Blake. The men escorted Ana and Blake back inside the church. The same four people were once again standing on the stage, talking amongst themselves until they saw them walk into the church.
"Father! We've bought the couple that you've asked to see" the man that led them said.
"Thank you my child. You are dismissed" the topless guy said and approached Blake and Ana. "I've never seen you two before. You must be new to the County?".
"Ahh. Yeah. We moved two days ago" Blake replied back.
"Welcome to Hope County my children. I'm Joseph Seed and these are my brothers, Jacob and John. My sister Faith" Joseph introduced his family.
"Nice to meet you all. I'm Blake and this is my youngest sister, Ana" Blake introduced himself too. "I hope we didn't do anything wrong. We drove by the church when we moved and thought we'd check it out. We don't have any bad intentions whatsoever".
"I'm sorry if we've frightened you. When I saw new faces, I was a little surprised and wanted to meet you two. Is it just the two of you?" Joseph asked, his brothers and sister now joining them in the middle of the church.
"No, there's our other two sisters; Haley and Hannah and our parents. We pretty much snuck out to explore a little. Our parents can be.... controlling at times" Blake explained. "Well more towards my sisters".
"Yeah, if you're not around" Ana added.
"They sound like... interesting people" Joseph smiled.
"You ask anyone from New York, they'd tell you that they are nothing but abusive parents" Blake said and looked at Ana, who gave him a nod of approval.
"Blake, I think we should go. Everyone would be awake" Ana said, tugging on his arm. She was keen to get out of there once she noticed that the same man from before, was staring at her again. Up closer he looked ten times hotter but Ana still felt a little uncomfortable around him. "Plus I'm getting hungry too".
"Go my children but I'd like to see you two again and your sisters. My church doors are always opened" Joseph said, putting his hands on each other their shoulders.
"Thank you. Hope to see you all again" Blake turned around to Ana and smiled. "Come on fussy pants. Let's go".
#jacob seed#far cry 5#fc 5#jacob seed x oc#fanfic#trash story#ana pearce#john seed#joseph seed#faith seed#pearce family#far cry 5 fandom#far cry 5 obsessed#a love like no other
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[ I N S P I R A T I O N ]
< W A R N I N G S >
Mentions of mental illness
Language
Murder, Grief, Death
" Who Are You ? "
÷ S T A R T ÷
Like every other sad story this one starts in the middle of a rainstorm. Tear filled eyes and people with lumps in their throats. All dressed in black with heads bowed and eyes shielded from the sight of the coffin. Amidst all of that grief and sorrow, a song was heard.
The song was light and calming with a bubbly tune. It made the mourners look up and around one by one to see who could be playing something so joyous on such a sad, sad day.
No one could find the source, but the song quieted, didn't silence, but it quieted against the heavy sound of the rain. As hours passed people began to walk away, the music had still yet to fade. No, the music didn't stop until there was only one person left standing. A woman with dark skin, dark clothes, and dark eyes.
The song came to an abrupt stop as a dark figure walked into view. A person dressed in black with their hood up and a bundle of flowers in their pale hands. It was, of all people, the person responsible for the mans death. They had wanted to wait until everyone had left. The lingering shadow of one last mourner went unnoticed until it was too late.
"Who are you?" The invisible woman had choked out. Lost her brother and she felt she was soon to be with him.
"Damon," The reaper of the dead mans fate spoke like there was a bundle of rocks tumbling in their voice box.
"DeSantis?" A hesitant question, the masked gunman. The getaway driver, the cop, the thief, and the dealer.
"Yes."
"What are you doing here?"
"You know what. You've heard him say my name a thousand times. You were there, you saw what happened."
"What, have you come to take me from them too?" The woman spoke almost begging for it to be true.
"No." Damon spoke in an even more broken tone. "I'm here to lay my brother to rest." They squatted down and leaned forward just enough for their head to thud against the casket. They were waiting to bury it, they'd arranged for the gravekeeper to bury it once they'd all left.
"He was my brother."
"He was mine too, I've ran from cops, gotten high, even overdosed with him." The tired murder looked back up at the girl. "He was my everything. This fucked up world took him away."
"You shot him."
Pupils dilated and eyes filled with tears. The memory flashed like the lightning overhead. The screams echoed in Damons ears with the gunshot, the thud, and the thunder that brought them back down to earth. "He wasn't supposed to die."
The girls brow furrowed and her eyes narrowed onto the criminal in front of her. "Is that your excuse?!" She roared her words, angry, unforgiving, cruel for the first time in her life.
"No. I don't have an excuse. I killed him, I killed him and it's all my fucking fault, because it was my gun, it was my car, my drugs, and my fucking fear that put him in this casket." Damon wiped their tears. "I couldn't let him shoot the cop. It would've ruined his life.. I didn't.. I didn't know the safety wasn't on.." Anxious ramblings of someone needing something to blame other than themself.
"Stand up." The girl spoke with a firm tone commanding the other to their feet.
"What?" A shaking question with shaking hands and a failing voice.
"Stand up." Restated with half the steel of the last.
Damon stood on shaking legs and weak limbs as they looked at the other. They expected the onslaught of hits and slaps that came but didn't count on the other to stop so soon. The mourner had leaned into the theifs chest and dampened their shirt with her tears. The need to comfort was instant, but the guilt dragged an anchor through their heart.
"I'm sorry." They sighed. "But I know sorry isn't enough."
The womans shoulders shook as she wept. They quaked and churned like a rising tide that gave way to the storm that was her grief.
Jasper sat on the wooden mahogany table in their livingroom and stared at Medu. They watched the girl walk around, lighter, happier, it was hard to believe they were the same girl.
It was harder to believe Medu never recognized them. Although they'd changed a lot in the past two years, since that day at least. They wear less leather and more cotton, their hair is no longer platinum blonde, it's black. New tattoos, new deodorants and colognes, new piercings. Less confidence.
Medu had changed too, less skin tight clothes and makeup. Less kind eyes and naive thoughts. More taekwondo and jiu jitsu classes, more mace, more pocket knives and lighters. She used to be carefree, optimistic, at the death of her brother she hardened. She learned to protect herself because there was no longer a big strong brother to hide behind.
Jasper knew that the new Medu wouldn't have let them leave the cemetery. They knew their friend and roommate would've left only with them in cuffs and black bruises.. If at all.
"Coffee?" Medu asked looking over at Jasper with a light in her eyes that Jasper just didn't deserve.
"Sure," A kind dimpled smile in return.
"Do you want to stop by that new korean place after class?"
"Yeah, I heard it's pretty good."
The conversation went on as it always did. Smoothly, the two could talk for hours about nothing. It made a chain tug at Jaspers neck, they didn't deserve this, or her, at all. They deserved a prison cell in place of freedom and love from one of their victims.
To Medu Jasper had been a godsend in a time of need. Desperation, or depression had lead them right to eachother. A want ad for a roommate. Medu wasn't working as much.. She spent all her time sleeping, or moping.
At first the other seemed to be a cruel person. Dressed in black with scars and scowls in place of a heart but that changed. It changed with the flecks of recognition and the unspoken debt the thief owed. To Medu, a new protector. To Jasper, someone they owed a life, a loved one.
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Conversation
Him: are you okay?
Me: yeah
Me, internally: Hey poopy, I'm Andy Patton of the East Chicago harbor in Indiana, before reading about my indiana jones lifestyle, have a go at tetris which is about to load, make a high score, and use my page just like your personal black and white gameboy, and relax with me like i'm your lazyboy barcalounger!!
[Here comes the game]
Source: Crazy Games
........... I got a pell grant for film school because i'm poor and might choose Chicago University this fall or winter. i'm single baby!!! But not in the sense where i'm fucking other people n shit, its been 6yrs not being with a woman, I've had 8 dates since jail and got to kiss and hug a girl but that was years ago, I miss human touch, i'm scarred from heartbreak but also i don't succumb to lonesomeness and have someone beside me for the time being as a renter to my heart, i seek love and not fingerbangs, i'm a novelist of dozens of books (details in my publshed folder on my facebook .com/boathopper page, add me)..... I have 1,000+ short films, 3 films, one of them i killed 80 actors in, its called 'the tenderizer' and it had a zero budget which raked in a few grand of clothing/vhs tape sales.....i have a fantasy novel that can be read in its entirety for free at http: //shakeyquakeyridenovel.blogspot.com/ and it could be bigger than harry potter but nobody reads anymore.... and i have another book you can read for free at http://platdnovel.blogspot.com/ ........... i had a script in hollywood bounced around called boathopper which is science fiction about a monster slamming into our oceans, but the serial killer described in it is identical and predates the 'dexter' book and show, and yes its copywritten just like the rest of my sampled work, stephen king even samples me, and i've overtaken him in quantity as well in my opinion as quality, i'm to the point and don't drag on bullshit fluff for too long, to see more about the dexter narrative and incredible journey your detections could take just youtube 'andyp's arduous travels of an unrenound serial killer'. my body is caked and dented in scars, lacerations and holes because i'm a good person, a strong person, doing good things in a horrible place, this earth, but i'm retired and yet i haven't even begun, i'm the type of person that's been all over the world killing warlords and thousands of the cruelest people known to exist, so the mysteriousness is lain in this, am i a serial killer? or just a shadow operative navy seal?........ i've had troll blogs devote themselves to me before, but here's one that's the most recent, i love my haters suhn https://kiwifar.ms/threads/andy-patton-aka-clivedavinci-loveshy-filmmaker-who-is-apparently-the-true-creator-of-dexter.11274/ ........i really am a mass murderer, my reins controlled by the police, and knowledge of me by other precincts one by one, year by year, being like an internal affairs of hitmen for them, to the most redtape entanglements that bother each depeartment, all secret, commissioned by a government program later, and then after my r.o.t.c i took out of highschol, where i aimed high towards the air force the seals nabbed me out of the air force, my intellect and my physical attributes is extremely rare, i could’ve easily gotten a wrestling scholarship to purdue after i had a walk on match with a dude from iowa and slammed his huge cornfed ass to the mat so hard he got hurt, i realized i can’t be invovled in regular heights of the elite, i couldn’t go backwards from what i had became, since i was a boy i’ve been in china in training programs, i honestly led a life just like d.a.r.y.l the movie, exept i wasn’t a robot, even figuratively in the sense of a sociopathic mindless servant or psycho, i was bombarded by compassionate teachings, my mother a police officer the leadrope to all of this, allowing this, she’s caught serial killers and crimelords, and one time it backfired, horrible men came and abducted me, and tortured me, they bordered on white supremecy and satanists, my mom didn’t find me that long month, the police didn’t find me, this was even in a newspaper, but all knowledge of this ever happening has been redacted and destroyed, nobody could find me, i was 6yrs old, three powerful men sexualy abused me, physically burned me, broke my bones, my rectum had been split open, i was beaten purple with my eyes swollen every couple days when i started to heal, where they would bust me up again, nobody knew where i was, on one of the most high profile cases my mom ever took, she did come to rescue me with the murderers in the house still there, in their total ignorance of evil and what they can get away with, with a young innocent boy, they left their knife that they cut me with on the mattress 3 seconds too long, and i turned into chucky, i snapped, i had absolutely no fear, i didn’t wanna run out of a door, blood pooled all over the floor, it was always my blood, seeing your reflection in your own pool of blood as you cry for help night after night as you lay to try to get comfy to sleep which you can’t becuase you’re bruised all over, does something to someone, something snaps, like how a virgin’s skin does when a scumbag pops their cherry, i became chucky, i had developed tactical defense, and didn’t keep stabbing one of them, i sliced one of them down crying, then hid and waited for the next and sliced him, and i waited many hours in the house, not leaving, not picking up the phone yet, waiting for the other to arrive, in the dark i came at him, where he had no time to react, i climbed and took the bulbs out, and easily made my way to get him too before he saw the scene int he bedroom, i sliced away his achilles as i jutted out behind a couch, those long hours before he came and met his demise, i’d played, like a child with toys, but i played with my knife, a memento i still have, a murder weapon of the most grotesque, i stabbed at every part of their skin, i even kept one of them alive, and took out each of his eyes andn let him squirm around, something inside me took over, and it was GOOD as much as it had been horrible, it must’ve been something put there by god and vengence, and i finally called my mom and we talked on the phone, booking had listened in, her friends, i explained but they were confused, i told them they were still in the house with me and they can come over,i couldn’t talk properly, i hadn’t really known what i’d done, it was like i was possessed, i blubbered crying on the phone just hearing her voice, she was the first one to the scene, there were other cops that came later, which contradicted a way out for me that she would have to face, her son, which the world woudln’t wanna face, and instituionalize me for, those cops got fired for something she had to fenagle, it was her son, or them, you’re forgetting that i was a murderer, although 6, doesn’t matter, all the murderers were stilll in the house, but they were all dead, and cut to pieces, and it took my mom probaby 10 full minutes to unclench my hand around my knife, and dthat was only because i allowed it, because we came to a truce where she’d let me keep it, it was a part of me now, it saved me, it helped me, it was my friend, yes i wrote a novel predating dexter called boathopper where its science fiction, but the myth of a dexter like child in blood had been passed around precincts long before that, it was covered up but there’s always trace gossip, it became a legend, i’ve worked in moscow with putin, i’ve been taught by spies, everytime i’m pulled over the cops freak out becuaase my rapsheet is so long, and that’s just in america, but i’m always a victim or witness, i’m always acting and protecting people, never a bad person, just misunderstood, all the cops protect me, all the agents, the stint i did in calif was my exes doing, i remember traveling ALOT, missing alot of school, but always coming back, pretending to be in school, hanging out with my friends, iwas bombarded by animals, i loved animals, i wasn’t a maniac to ever hurt one no matter my blood rage, but i was taken to villages a round the world to share love with good people and experiences, and to always train, and to even kill, i needed to kill, a lifetime of killing, decades of it, thousands of horriblly evil people around the world, especially china, india and the middleeast before soldiers ever got there, was my purpose in life, i could chameleon into any cell, or group, i was invisible and innocent, and with training i was a weapon, all my education when to combat and stealth and learning many languages, and i served my agency proud, and when i tried to resume a regular life i couldn’t, i was hurting people in sports, not really trying to, my training i held back on, and just used physical standards, but i had too much rage, its like i wanted to see people bleed, i’d been around the world helping animals, trained as an assassin, trained by seals, educated by scholars, there are good sects in this world when you’re facing incredible circumstnces, as well as bad sects like terrorists or satanists, and they caught wind and found my mom as she had sought something like them too, onlhy a few people know about this, after the rotc, i went to the air force for a few months, then leaped to the seals and i’ve been putting away badguys, and hopping back to the states for my character andn presence ever since, i’m a honed tactician, i’m beyond liam neeson, i’m a good person, i have compassion for everyone, but i have a screw loose, and i need love, and i’ll never find it, i’m calmed now and ptsd of wartime endevours you just get used to, compared to childhood traumas, i’m retired, vocalization and protest is what changes laws and leading by example helps animals in the world, i just need someone to spend my life with now, i had a good girl once, who was teetering on the side of cdraziness, enough crazy and cool to put up with me, but she was taken by this horrible world, i needed saved and she abandoned me, her best friend, i’m looking for someone new to come into my life and not be so fussy and close minded,k i’m still just a child needing affection, someone save me ......i'm the funniest person probably in the world in person, but i've gotten shy and reclusive the last decade, from my loved ones dissected and murdered in hospitals, to love stricken from me like a lightening bolt, i used to love dancing in clubs/weddings with any hot girl, but i could never dance again having lived the shit i've went through with my ex slowing metamorphasizing into a prostitute, and it began from the attention she got from me taking her out to clubs and being mixed in an elite environment and dancing with her making her feel a little bit too great to the point she needed to have that drug 24/7, so she slowly went out and forged it, dancing is the work of the devil i know see, its like that george michael song 'i'm never gonna dance again' love just gets taken from you and you become a bitter person because of it, i'm still funny, but it has to be the right setting, i have to be feeling good or buzzed or have a fleeting bliss of happiness, i can get really fucking dark sometimes to the point its scary, you mix i've been an eliete in sports amongst other things in my life, alongside my talented writing that's grosser and more depicting and original than anything clive or king could right, and you'll have a formula of fear, i mean one story i killed god himself, its on my fb in my notes titled 'the after', i've cursed god for the last couple decades of my life, not because i'm an atheiest or don't believe in a god entirely, but because if there was one, i figured he was absolute evil, like a parent abandoning children in a dingy motel or something, forced to fend for themselves because they don't know better, i have many thoughts on god but i'm a philosopher too, so that's a topic that can go on forever, for the most part, i vent, i'm fuming mad, but i'm the most passive human being you'll ever known, and the people beating upon me in life can attest to it, you see those vines or gifs with cats beating the shit out of large enormous strong dogs? well that's me, no matter what i'll never bite, i just seem to bark alot because i'm lonely, and still so heartbroken, i've never filled in that gap of a 'friend' or a 'fuckpal' or a partner in my life since my breakup, i'm not doing it right, like everyone else copes, i don't deal with death the same either, i'm careless to it and am enlightened to not get attached anymore, to anything, seeing dozens of my family put in the ground, it just takes a toll of carelessness, its something i don't want to deal with anymore, my cat was the height of all the bad in my life, a year ago my sister allowed this prostitute that was living next to me in my room to throw a fuckparty in the entire house, and my cat kidiot got outside, and this was when i was tossed out of that drughouse for not reason on top of it by the very multiple cops that were banging my sister, someone i cared about, and my cat kidiot who i've had a decade, got trapped and starved to death in a hot shed, just a glimpse at the kind of shit i have to go through ad cry over in my life, and its not because i'm a bad person, and its not from strangers, its from people closest to me, its always like that for me and i'm uncertain why........15 of my short films are pretty good, but maybe i'm just being modest and don't determine my worth properly,you'd have to type 'andyp's short films' to see some on multiple accounts, i'm always deleted, a rebel on youtube, i have a hellraiser script at hellraisernightshines.yolasite.com, another tumblr at clivedavinciromance ............ i was entering a finished 3rd horror feature into sundance but its incomplete, i made it by myself in a empty building when i was homeless, its under 'sundancers andyp's' on youtube, the 2nd part is the best, my 1st two features were generic slashers and don't count as serious, i'm finishing up another book, a fantasy novel i think will be bigger than harry potter...i WILL become larger than stephen king, and you wonder why i choose such a high totum to climb other than a smaller horror writer? well its because i've finished libraries of writing, novels and shorts, all the decades i've been alone and sad in a dark room as an introvert, what is dormant, and what is almost accomplished is more thatn king, almost, i need a few green miles and stand by me's first, and then i need a few other stories and books and i will have achieved more elaborate words than star wars or marvel combined, i just have to get them seen is all, tha'ts the hard/easy part......i hang out with my gay friends in portage, they're all i have in my life, my mexican bestie is leaving ot vegas, i don't have any other real friends, and no family left, i'm just all alone in the world, i drive a stupid car i spraypainted purple, i act like a retard because i want to filter through phony uptight people, i want a real cool, good girl, who doesn't fuck everyone like everyone in society does, i want a lover and rebel and fighter, not someone who's ordinary like my ex who breaks hearts and breaks herself off pieces of dick at any whim, i haven't kissed a girl in over 2 years. I'm not a sleazeball, i've only had 3serious long relationships, that means i've only had sex with 3 people, no additional fingerbangs or buttfuckings, maybe i kissed ten more girls, but that's it. I say heartfelt poems or perversion after almost every pic i reblog, so the history of my tumblr is quite a reading adventure. I'm a horror writer, here is a link to my newest collection of stories http://www.lulu.com/shop/andrew-patton/reflections-in-the-dark/paperback/product-20340079.html I'm an animal activist.gay rights activist, civil rights activist and women's rights activist, BUT I differ in opinion about bisexuals, not for them personally, but from my own experiences of people being able to fuck how many people they want without consquence to character, the last time i checked if someone was unsure if they liked women or men more they weren't tasting all those crotches, they went about their business and didn't need a stamp that i feel is an equivalent to yelling 'hey i'm in bars fucking this guy, fucking that guy and i don't give a fuck', well that's fine, live how you want, but in your abundances of pussy/dick and indecision, i'm all alone, and i'd be humbled to just hold and love ONE PERSON, and that's were the idea of the 'title' not the 'person' bisexual comes into conflict with me, its saying 'i'm samantha from sex and the city and slopping up weiners and hot snatches left and right, so fuck you', i don't hate anyone, i'm understanding of nearly anything, i try my hardest to dissuade violence or hate in any way i can, i just think the terminology used to describe someone as a bisexual is just for show, if they don't know if they love and man or woman, who's to say they even love men or women? but their travels and undertakings of trying to find that out are being stamped and revealed for all the world to know about, and i don't dislike it, i just think its as tacky as me posting my boner videos in my underwear is all, its sleazy to your eyes, but you don't understand me right, like i woudn't understand you? in such perversion there is actual sweetness in me and reasons i do this crazy shit, bisexuals and their silly title which is basically just saying you're a hippi is just offputing to some, like me who had a girl i loved who became bisexual, yet all she's doing is fucking people for money, and i bet alot of people have sex and not for love and in doing that i'd never wanna be stamped with something, in a broad sense sure, but me, i'm an individual and i'm kind and good and accepting of all of you and love all of you so what the fuck matters our personal bickerings ya know?....... stupid groups of people like most feminists, most of what p.e.t.a does, truth anti smoking commercials, etc, bother me, because these consist mainly of spoiled brats not really doing anything, having a campus activity n shit, not empassioned deeper, not being in any form of fight, just a lap of luxery, forcing their beliefs or ways of life on you even if they are the most insane selfish things imagineable, i think i used to be bitter about hipsters too, just anyone who is phony as fuck, hell it could even be described as a rare unicorn of a girl i liked, doesn't matter, superficiality annoys me more than anything......... like i actually argue with people who do gangbangs and have swinger parties, could they honestly justify that disgusting shit to me, do it on your own time and leave me out of your sexcapades, seeing those depictions in 'bruno' or something, or me personally jacking off to threesomes n shit in porn is one thing but if you're gonna come on my page and bitch and moan i think that's 'sleazy' since it doesn't invovle TWO people, but instead involves multiple people, then you're just dumb,.............. i'm the most fucked up person alive, stranger by far of any human alive, i have an imaginative mind but i also have social skills, i know what its like being lonesome its why i hate when people just fuck tons of others, they spit at something i wish i had, they are gluttonous. My idols are Clive Barker, i made my art collection entirely out of scratch but i had him in mind to impress him, and i also made a book of short stories like his books of blood, i'm very similar to him, a huge fan, but it wasn't on purpose, its weird, its liked he fucked my mom in the 70's before he went gay or something, Stephen King, Kenny Hotz, Wayne Pacelle of the hspca, and others, even steve o and tom green. i'm the poorest person i know, yet i give my singles to bums, i'm selfless, i'm lazy, but when i have ambition like someone helping me, i'll create milestones. i make all my videos mostly in this loft at my moms house, i'm stuck here until my federal probation is up, not like i'll go anywhere else unless i get mental disability, i have no drive in life for average shit, i'm a creator, not an assembly line worker, i don't need the shit that money can buy, i'd never go to disneyland again even if someone bought me a package cause i think its extravagent and there are kids that will never see that place, i'd let them go in my place. i dislike snooty superficial people who act like they are better than you and are mean and bully and act like they're cool, when really they are fucking ignorant whiny brats in college or some shit trying to find their identities; they are jackoffs. so beware if you get offended by something i say, which is almost always a joke, cause i'll outdebate you and i'm VERY mean to bullies who get used to being tools in their normal lives with normal people, cause i'm not normal, i'm elite, cream of the crop, super large penis machoman, and i'm wittier, funnier and fucking the coolest fuck you'll ever know period, so bitches on their periods stand no chance either. My trolling book is blowing up, its sold 43 copies now, i've made it cheaper, black & white, so i'm making money now, DON'T USE CREATESPACE they are not creative friendly. you can find my large magazine type trolling book here.. http://www.lulu.com/shop/andrew-patton/trolling-101/paperback/product-20324152.html I've been raised by women without a father, i'm very feminine but strong, so don't turn me into an angry woman that will tell you off, but it takes alot to even get me mad, it just may seem i'm mad cause i'm pretty creative and outspoken, but really, i just laugh at your insults and bullying and i destroy anything you shit out with my verbal reckonings. I don't think i'm better than anyone, i'm kind to everyone, and that's what opens my mouth in the first place, is people attacking me or trying to bully me, it reminds me of how they could be doing it do someone else, like a gay kid, a black person, a woman, and it pisses me off. scene kids are the worst, almost like nazis cause they are a form of upper rich caste system that thinks they're better and they get snobby and uptight and its fucking annoying. I'm faithful,, sometimes romantic, sometimes funny genuine human. I dob not have anything in common with humans, I feel I'm more intelligent and its a burden being in a way, an ugly duckling. But I relate to morons too, because I am a stupid moron sometimes, I'm silly like that. next month i will have seen 10 psychiatrists in my life yet there's nothing even wrong with me.I'm the kind of person who would volunteer his head to a row of nazis so that others may live, i'm selfless. I'm also the kind of person who would be the ONLY one to stand up and risk not being hidden anymore, risk being killed by those nazis just to stand up to them. I'm a leader. I've led 100 of the world's worst maniacs in a jail cell for a year, I was on the back of a 7ft nigerian man preventing him from killing someone, I was a good person in a bad place, like jesus walking this shitty earth. Upon an apoclypse in 2012 i can lead the world to peace. i'm also the kind of person that is a fighter, i can be on my bloody knees before a dozen nazis and slice all their throats in moments before they know what's happening. I've only been with 3 girls, all long relationships and am still looking for my true soul mate on this planet, I've scavenged billions of galaxies looking and my search has ended here. You're here somewhere, I sense you. My ex got me put in jail to become a pornstar? She sent a threat to Kevin Spacey's website. The fuckers stole my movie 'The Thing' but made it shitty, read my synopsis or script at thethingfromanotherworld.webs.com. 2nd time feds kicked in my door, guns blazing, I told them my gf had shaved a penis in my chest hair, which she really did the night before, they looked and laughed and withdrew their guns out of our faces, I basically saved that crazy ex ponrstar, tattood bitch's life with my wittiness and her stupid art project she did on me when she was bored. Plus, having a lifesize darth maul figurine at the foot of my bed didn't really solidify to these saps I was a real serial murderer. I'm a handyman and can do just about anything, I'm currently building a movie set for my next silly video. I type 100 words a minute. I'm great with my mind, hands and dignity and I apply those things to women. I'm the most compassionate person alive or who has ever lived. I'm a registered rehabber wih the D.N.R. of Indiana. I"m incredible in all sports. I love spending time with someone I love watching movies and going out to eat, just waiting on that right girl. I have a bachelor's in English, and an associates from Minneapolis in Art instruction, but I'm happy with being a loser, being poor and having no future, I'm just trying to manage every day on this shitty planet, being a very lonely wise thing. I've been to California a dozen times in the last 2 years and not for vacation or my own accord (long story). I'm VERY down to earth and give great advice. If I could go to Chipotle daily I would, but I have no girl in my life, no significant other, no waddling penguin, no friend to hold my hand. i do like a girl alot, but i realize how fucked up i am, sometimes i don't even want to get out of bed, i'd need her to understand what its like to be lonesome and depressed, i really miss holding someone. we're all doomed to die, it sucks, i'm just trying to make my life as comfortable as possible with the little means i have, hopefully they'll put me on mental disability and i can continue my writing without having to work shit jobs to make ends meet, or save for a date with a girl and it never happens anyways go to a few of my sites myspace.com/andyp6 or Andy's Facebook link is below, its facebook.com/boathopper i have a new myspace account but rarely use it
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Hey poopy, I'm Andy Patton of the East Chicago harbor in Indiana, before reading about my indiana jones lifestyle, have a go at tetris which is about to load, make a high score, and use my page just like your personal black and white gameboy, and relax with me like i'm your lazyboy barcalounger!! Get Adobe Flash player Source: Crazy Games ........... I got a pell grant for film school because i'm poor and might choose Chicago University this fall or winter. i'm single baby!!! But not in the sense where i'm fucking other people n shit, its been 6yrs not being with a woman, I've had 8 dates since jail and got to kiss and hug a girl but that was years ago, I miss human touch, i'm scarred from heartbreak but also i don't succumb to lonesomeness and have someone beside me for the time being as a renter to my heart, i seek love and not fingerbangs, i'm a novelist of dozens of books (details in my publshed folder on my facebook .com/boathopper page, add me)..... I have 1,000+ short films, 3 films, one of them i killed 80 actors in, its called 'the tenderizer' and it had a zero budget which raked in a few grand of clothing/vhs tape sales.....i have a fantasy novel that can be read in its entirety for free at http://shakeyquakeyridenovel.blogspot.com/ and it could be bigger than harry potter but nobody reads anymore.... and i have another book you can read for free at http://platdnovel.blogspot.com/ ........... i had a script in hollywood bounced around called boathopper which is science fiction about a monster slamming into our oceans, but the serial killer described in it is identical and predates the 'dexter' book and show, and yes its copywritten just like the rest of my sampled work, stephen king even samples me, and i've overtaken him in quantity as well in my opinion as quality, i'm to the point and don't drag on bullshit fluff for too long, to see more about the dexter narrative and incredible journey your detections could take just youtube 'andyp's arduous travels of an unrenound serial killer'. my body is caked and dented in scars, lacerations and holes because i'm a good person, a strong person, doing good things in a horrible place, this earth, but i'm retired and yet i haven't even begun, i'm the type of person that's been all over the world killing warlords and thousands of the cruelest people known to exist, so the mysteriousness is lain in this, am i a serial killer? or just a shadow operative navy seal?........ i've had troll blogs devote themselves to me before, but here's one that's the most recent, i love my haters suhn https://kiwifar.ms/threads/andy-patton-aka-clivedavinci-loveshy-filmmaker-who-is-apparently-the-true-creator-of-dexter.11274/ ........i really am a mass murderer, my reins controlled by the police, and knowledge of me by other precincts one by one, year by year, being like an internal affairs of hitmen for them, to the most redtape entanglements that bother each depeartment, all secret, commissioned by a government program later, and then after my r.o.t.c i took out of highschol, where i aimed high towards the air force the seals nabbed me out of the air force, my intellect and my physical attributes is extremely rare, i could’ve easily gotten a wrestling scholarship to purdue after i had a walk on match with a dude from iowa and slammed his huge cornfed ass to the mat so hard he got hurt, i realized i can’t be invovled in regular heights of the elite, i couldn’t go backwards from what i had became, since i was a boy i’ve been in china in training programs, i honestly led a life just like d.a.r.y.l the movie, exept i wasn’t a robot, even figuratively in the sense of a sociopathic mindless servant or psycho, i was bombarded by compassionate teachings, my mother a police officer the leadrope to all of this, allowing this, she’s caught serial killers and crimelords, and one time it backfired, horrible men came and abducted me, and tortured me, they bordered on white supremecy and satanists, my mom didn’t find me that long month, the police didn’t find me, this was even in a newspaper, but all knowledge of this ever happening has been redacted and destroyed, nobody could find me, i was 6yrs old, three powerful men sexualy abused me, physically burned me, broke my bones, my rectum had been split open, i was beaten purple with my eyes swollen every couple days when i started to heal, where they would bust me up again, nobody knew where i was, on one of the most high profile cases my mom ever took, she did come to rescue me with the murderers in the house still there, in their total ignorance of evil and what they can get away with, with a young innocent boy, they left their knife that they cut me with on the mattress 3 seconds too long, and i turned into chucky, i snapped, i had absolutely no fear, i didn’t wanna run out of a door, blood pooled all over the floor, it was always my blood, seeing your reflection in your own pool of blood as you cry for help night after night as you lay to try to get comfy to sleep which you can’t becuase you’re bruised all over, does something to someone, something snaps, like how a virgin’s skin does when a scumbag pops their cherry, i became chucky, i had developed tactical defense, and didn’t keep stabbing one of them, i sliced one of them down crying, then hid and waited for the next and sliced him, and i waited many hours in the house, not leaving, not picking up the phone yet, waiting for the other to arrive, in the dark i came at him, where he had no time to react, i climbed and took the bulbs out, and easily made my way to get him too before he saw the scene int he bedroom, i sliced away his achilles as i jutted out behind a couch, those long hours before he came and met his demise, i’d played, like a child with toys, but i played with my knife, a memento i still have, a murder weapon of the most grotesque, i stabbed at every part of their skin, i even kept one of them alive, and took out each of his eyes andn let him squirm around, something inside me took over, and it was GOOD as much as it had been horrible, it must’ve been something put there by god and vengence, and i finally called my mom and we talked on the phone, booking had listened in, her friends, i explained but they were confused, i told them they were still in the house with me and they can come over,i couldn’t talk properly, i hadn’t really known what i’d done, it was like i was possessed, i blubbered crying on the phone just hearing her voice, she was the first one to the scene, there were other cops that came later, which contradicted a way out for me that she would have to face, her son, which the world woudln’t wanna face, and instituionalize me for, those cops got fired for something she had to fenagle, it was her son, or them, you’re forgetting that i was a murderer, although 6, doesn’t matter, all the murderers were stilll in the house, but they were all dead, and cut to pieces, and it took my mom probaby 10 full minutes to unclench my hand around my knife, and dthat was only because i allowed it, because we came to a truce where she’d let me keep it, it was a part of me now, it saved me, it helped me, it was my friend, yes i wrote a novel predating dexter called boathopper where its science fiction, but the myth of a dexter like child in blood had been passed around precincts long before that, it was covered up but there’s always trace gossip, it became a legend, i’ve worked in moscow with putin, i’ve been taught by spies, everytime i’m pulled over the cops freak out becuaase my rapsheet is so long, and that’s just in america, but i’m always a victim or witness, i’m always acting and protecting people, never a bad person, just misunderstood, all the cops protect me, all the agents, the stint i did in calif was my exes doing, i remember traveling ALOT, missing alot of school, but always coming back, pretending to be in school, hanging out with my friends, iwas bombarded by animals, i loved animals, i wasn’t a maniac to ever hurt one no matter my blood rage, but i was taken to villages a round the world to share love with good people and experiences, and to always train, and to even kill, i needed to kill, a lifetime of killing, decades of it, thousands of horriblly evil people around the world, especially china, india and the middleeast before soldiers ever got there, was my purpose in life, i could chameleon into any cell, or group, i was invisible and innocent, and with training i was a weapon, all my education when to combat and stealth and learning many languages, and i served my agency proud, and when i tried to resume a regular life i couldn’t, i was hurting people in sports, not really trying to, my training i held back on, and just used physical standards, but i had too much rage, its like i wanted to see people bleed, i’d been around the world helping animals, trained as an assassin, trained by seals, educated by scholars, there are good sects in this world when you’re facing incredible circumstnces, as well as bad sects like terrorists or satanists, and they caught wind and found my mom as she had sought something like them too, onlhy a few people know about this, after the rotc, i went to the air force for a few months, then leaped to the seals and i’ve been putting away badguys, and hopping back to the states for my character andn presence ever since, i’m a honed tactician, i’m beyond liam neeson, i’m a good person, i have compassion for everyone, but i have a screw loose, and i need love, and i’ll never find it, i’m calmed now and ptsd of wartime endevours you just get used to, compared to childhood traumas, i’m retired, vocalization and protest is what changes laws and leading by example helps animals in the world, i just need someone to spend my life with now, i had a good girl once, who was teetering on the side of cdraziness, enough crazy and cool to put up with me, but she was taken by this horrible world, i needed saved and she abandoned me, her best friend, i’m looking for someone new to come into my life and not be so fussy and close minded,k i’m still just a child needing affection, someone save me ......i'm the funniest person probably in the world in person, but i've gotten shy and reclusive the last decade, from my loved ones dissected and murdered in hospitals, to love stricken from me like a lightening bolt, i used to love dancing in clubs/weddings with any hot girl, but i could never dance again having lived the shit i've went through with my ex slowing metamorphasizing into a prostitute, and it began from the attention she got from me taking her out to clubs and being mixed in an elite environment and dancing with her making her feel a little bit too great to the point she needed to have that drug 24/7, so she slowly went out and forged it, dancing is the work of the devil i know see, its like that george michael song 'i'm never gonna dance again' love just gets taken from you and you become a bitter person because of it, i'm still funny, but it has to be the right setting, i have to be feeling good or buzzed or have a fleeting bliss of happiness, i can get really fucking dark sometimes to the point its scary, you mix i've been an eliete in sports amongst other things in my life, alongside my talented writing that's grosser and more depicting and original than anything clive or king could right, and you'll have a formula of fear, i mean one story i killed god himself, its on my fb in my notes titled 'the after', i've cursed god for the last couple decades of my life, not because i'm an atheiest or don't believe in a god entirely, but because if there was one, i figured he was absolute evil, like a parent abandoning children in a dingy motel or something, forced to fend for themselves because they don't know better, i have many thoughts on god but i'm a philosopher too, so that's a topic that can go on forever, for the most part, i vent, i'm fuming mad, but i'm the most passive human being you'll ever known, and the people beating upon me in life can attest to it, you see those vines or gifs with cats beating the shit out of large enormous strong dogs? well that's me, no matter what i'll never bite, i just seem to bark alot because i'm lonely, and still so heartbroken, i've never filled in that gap of a 'friend' or a 'fuckpal' or a partner in my life since my breakup, i'm not doing it right, like everyone else copes, i don't deal with death the same either, i'm careless to it and am enlightened to not get attached anymore, to anything, seeing dozens of my family put in the ground, it just takes a toll of carelessness, its something i don't want to deal with anymore, my cat was the height of all the bad in my life, a year ago my sister allowed this prostitute that was living next to me in my room to throw a fuckparty in the entire house, and my cat kidiot got outside, and this was when i was tossed out of that drughouse for not reason on top of it by the very multiple cops that were banging my sister, someone i cared about, and my cat kidiot who i've had a decade, got trapped and starved to death in a hot shed, just a glimpse at the kind of shit i have to go through ad cry over in my life, and its not because i'm a bad person, and its not from strangers, its from people closest to me, its always like that for me and i'm uncertain why........15 of my short films are pretty good, but maybe i'm just being modest and don't determine my worth properly,you'd have to type 'andyp's short films' to see some on multiple accounts, i'm always deleted, a rebel on youtube, i have a hellraiser script at hellraisernightshines.yolasite.com, another tumblr at clivedavinciromance ............ i was entering a finished 3rd horror feature into sundance but its incomplete, i made it by myself in a empty building when i was homeless, its under 'sundancers andyp's' on youtube, the 2nd part is the best, my 1st two features were generic slashers and don't count as serious, i'm finishing up another book, a fantasy novel i think will be bigger than harry potter...i WILL become larger than stephen king, and you wonder why i choose such a high totum to climb other than a smaller horror writer? well its because i've finished libraries of writing, novels and shorts, all the decades i've been alone and sad in a dark room as an introvert, what is dormant, and what is almost accomplished is more thatn king, almost, i need a few green miles and stand by me's first, and then i need a few other stories and books and i will have achieved more elaborate words than star wars or marvel combined, i just have to get them seen is all, tha'ts the hard/easy part......i hang out with my gay friends in portage, they're all i have in my life, my mexican bestie is leaving ot vegas, i don't have any other real friends, and no family left, i'm just all alone in the world, i drive a stupid car i spraypainted purple, i act like a retard because i want to filter through phony uptight people, i want a real cool, good girl, who doesn't fuck everyone like everyone in society does, i want a lover and rebel and fighter, not someone who's ordinary like my ex who breaks hearts and breaks herself off pieces of dick at any whim, i haven't kissed a girl in over 2 years. I'm not a sleazeball, i've only had 3serious long relationships, that means i've only had sex with 3 people, no additional fingerbangs or buttfuckings, maybe i kissed ten more girls, but that's it. I say heartfelt poems or perversion after almost every pic i reblog, so the history of my tumblr is quite a reading adventure. I'm a horror writer, here is a link to my newest collection of stories http://www.lulu.com/shop/andrew-patton/reflections-in-the-dark/paperback/product-20340079.html I'm an animal activist.gay rights activist, civil rights activist and women's rights activist, BUT I differ in opinion about bisexuals, not for them personally, but from my own experiences of people being able to fuck how many people they want without consquence to character, the last time i checked if someone was unsure if they liked women or men more they weren't tasting all those crotches, they went about their business and didn't need a stamp that i feel is an equivalent to yelling 'hey i'm in bars fucking this guy, fucking that guy and i don't give a fuck', well that's fine, live how you want, but in your abundances of pussy/dick and indecision, i'm all alone, and i'd be humbled to just hold and love ONE PERSON, and that's were the idea of the 'title' not the 'person' bisexual comes into conflict with me, its saying 'i'm samantha from sex and the city and slopping up weiners and hot snatches left and right, so fuck you', i don't hate anyone, i'm understanding of nearly anything, i try my hardest to dissuade violence or hate in any way i can, i just think the terminology used to describe someone as a bisexual is just for show, if they don't know if they love and man or woman, who's to say they even love men or women? but their travels and undertakings of trying to find that out are being stamped and revealed for all the world to know about, and i don't dislike it, i just think its as tacky as me posting my boner videos in my underwear is all, its sleazy to your eyes, but you don't understand me right, like i woudn't understand you? in such perversion there is actual sweetness in me and reasons i do this crazy shit, bisexuals and their silly title which is basically just saying you're a hippi is just offputing to some, like me who had a girl i loved who became bisexual, yet all she's doing is fucking people for money, and i bet alot of people have sex and not for love and in doing that i'd never wanna be stamped with something, in a broad sense sure, but me, i'm an individual and i'm kind and good and accepting of all of you and love all of you so what the fuck matters our personal bickerings ya know?....... stupid groups of people like most feminists, most of what p.e.t.a does, truth anti smoking commercials, etc, bother me, because these consist mainly of spoiled brats not really doing anything, having a campus activity n shit, not empassioned deeper, not being in any form of fight, just a lap of luxery, forcing their beliefs or ways of life on you even if they are the most insane selfish things imagineable, i think i used to be bitter about hipsters too, just anyone who is phony as fuck, hell it could even be described as a rare unicorn of a girl i liked, doesn't matter, superficiality annoys me more than anything......... like i actually argue with people who do gangbangs and have swinger parties, could they honestly justify that disgusting shit to me, do it on your own time and leave me out of your sexcapades, seeing those depictions in 'bruno' or something, or me personally jacking off to threesomes n shit in porn is one thing but if you're gonna come on my page and bitch and moan i think that's 'sleazy' since it doesn't invovle TWO people, but instead involves multiple people, then you're just dumb,.............. i'm the most fucked up person alive, stranger by far of any human alive, i have an imaginative mind but i also have social skills, i know what its like being lonesome its why i hate when people just fuck tons of others, they spit at something i wish i had, they are gluttonous. My idols are Clive Barker, i made my art collection entirely out of scratch but i had him in mind to impress him, and i also made a book of short stories like his books of blood, i'm very similar to him, a huge fan, but it wasn't on purpose, its weird, its liked he fucked my mom in the 70's before he went gay or something, Stephen King, Kenny Hotz, Wayne Pacelle of the hspca, and others, even steve o and tom green. i'm the poorest person i know, yet i give my singles to bums, i'm selfless, i'm lazy, but when i have ambition like someone helping me, i'll create milestones. i make all my videos mostly in this loft at my moms house, i'm stuck here until my federal probation is up, not like i'll go anywhere else unless i get mental disability, i have no drive in life for average shit, i'm a creator, not an assembly line worker, i don't need the shit that money can buy, i'd never go to disneyland again even if someone bought me a package cause i think its extravagent and there are kids that will never see that place, i'd let them go in my place. i dislike snooty superficial people who act like they are better than you and are mean and bully and act like they're cool, when really they are fucking ignorant whiny brats in college or some shit trying to find their identities; they are jackoffs. so beware if you get offended by something i say, which is almost always a joke, cause i'll outdebate you and i'm VERY mean to bullies who get used to being tools in their normal lives with normal people, cause i'm not normal, i'm elite, cream of the crop, super large penis machoman, and i'm wittier, funnier and fucking the coolest fuck you'll ever know period, so bitches on their periods stand no chance either. My trolling book is blowing up, its sold 43 copies now, i've made it cheaper, black & white, so i'm making money now, DON'T USE CREATESPACE they are not creative friendly. you can find my large magazine type trolling book here.. http://www.lulu.com/shop/andrew-patton/trolling-101/paperback/product-20324152.html I've been raised by women without a father, i'm very feminine but strong, so don't turn me into an angry woman that will tell you off, but it takes alot to even get me mad, it just may seem i'm mad cause i'm pretty creative and outspoken, but really, i just laugh at your insults and bullying and i destroy anything you shit out with my verbal reckonings. I don't think i'm better than anyone, i'm kind to everyone, and that's what opens my mouth in the first place, is people attacking me or trying to bully me, it reminds me of how they could be doing it do someone else, like a gay kid, a black person, a woman, and it pisses me off. scene kids are the worst, almost like nazis cause they are a form of upper rich caste system that thinks they're better and they get snobby and uptight and its fucking annoying. I'm faithful,, sometimes romantic, sometimes funny genuine human. I dob not have anything in common with humans, I feel I'm more intelligent and its a burden being in a way, an ugly duckling. But I relate to morons too, because I am a stupid moron sometimes, I'm silly like that. next month i will have seen 10 psychiatrists in my life yet there's nothing even wrong with me.I'm the kind of person who would volunteer his head to a row of nazis so that others may live, i'm selfless. I'm also the kind of person who would be the ONLY one to stand up and risk not being hidden anymore, risk being killed by those nazis just to stand up to them. I'm a leader. I've led 100 of the world's worst maniacs in a jail cell for a year, I was on the back of a 7ft nigerian man preventing him from killing someone, I was a good person in a bad place, like jesus walking this shitty earth. Upon an apoclypse in 2012 i can lead the world to peace. i'm also the kind of person that is a fighter, i can be on my bloody knees before a dozen nazis and slice all their throats in moments before they know what's happening. I've only been with 3 girls, all long relationships and am still looking for my true soul mate on this planet, I've scavenged billions of galaxies looking and my search has ended here. You're here somewhere, I sense you. My ex got me put in jail to become a pornstar? She sent a threat to Kevin Spacey's website. The fuckers stole my movie 'The Thing' but made it shitty, read my synopsis or script at thethingfromanotherworld.webs.com. 2nd time feds kicked in my door, guns blazing, I told them my gf had shaved a penis in my chest hair, which she really did the night before, they looked and laughed and withdrew their guns out of our faces, I basically saved that crazy ex ponrstar, tattood bitch's life with my wittiness and her stupid art project she did on me when she was bored. Plus, having a lifesize darth maul figurine at the foot of my bed didn't really solidify to these saps I was a real serial murderer. I'm a handyman and can do just about anything, I'm currently building a movie set for my next silly video. I type 100 words a minute. I'm great with my mind, hands and dignity and I apply those things to women. I'm the most compassionate person alive or who has ever lived. I'm a registered rehabber wih the D.N.R. of Indiana. I"m incredible in all sports. I love spending time with someone I love watching movies and going out to eat, just waiting on that right girl. I have a bachelor's in English, and an associates from Minneapolis in Art instruction, but I'm happy with being a loser, being poor and having no future, I'm just trying to manage every day on this shitty planet, being a very lonely wise thing. I've been to California a dozen times in the last 2 years and not for vacation or my own accord (long story). I'm VERY down to earth and give great advice. If I could go to Chipotle daily I would, but I have no girl in my life, no significant other, no waddling penguin, no friend to hold my hand. i do like a girl alot, but i realize how fucked up i am, sometimes i don't even want to get out of bed, i'd need her to understand what its like to be lonesome and depressed, i really miss holding someone. we're all doomed to die, it sucks, i'm just trying to make my life as comfortable as possible with the little means i have, hopefully they'll put me on mental disability and i can continue my writing without having to work shit jobs to make ends meet, or save for a date with a girl and it never happens anyways go to a few of my sites myspace.com/andyp6 or Andy's Facebook link is below, its facebook.com/boathopper i have a new myspace account but rarely use it
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