Every Famous Person Has A Problematic Past And Yes Motley Crue Is Known More For Their Antics Than Music

just thought of this but this is lowkey kinda funny since nikki and lita use to date in the 80's. i shouldve been born earlier so i couldve joined.

what a dream.

god hates me. he just wants to see me suffer

the 80's is taking over my fucking mind...

i need lita ford and nikki sixx in my bed right now. they're the loves of my life you guys dosnt understand!!!!!!!!!!!

LIKE LITA IN THE "KISS MY DEADLY" MUSIC VIDEO... GODDD!!

i feel like a teenage boy when i watch it.

i love them so much.

runs around and crashes into a wall, falls over and bleeds everywhere then explodes.

I need him so bad

GIMME HEAD GIMME HEAD GIMME HEAD GIMME HEADDDDDDDD

OMG THANK YOU FOR REBLOGING UR SO NICE😭🤍

OF COURSE!!

Your writing is actually amazing and I really enjoyed reading what you’ve posted!!!!!!

they are SOO cute idcidcidc!!!!!

hate to ANYBODY who thinks shes with him for the money. they look so sweet!!!!!!!!!!

xhmzhmcxdchmfhmfcmfcjfmdfcj8 bc y3cteriunsd y89vecrniusu [ovlkchesxf

(me banging my head against my keyboard)

This has to be my favorite picture of Mick and Fai, to anyone who thinks that’s she’s with him for money or whatever: look at their smiles! Look at Micks smile! Probably the most genuine and happy smile I’ve seen on him ever. I am so grateful Fai is in Micks life given the abuse he’s had to go through by past partners, and I’m so happy he has someone to support him through the lawsuit. They deserve all the happiness🖤

silly aaah nikki

VMPYRIA POSTED ANOTHER BANGER GUYS

CHECK IT OUT NOW

— SAL FISHER X READER : psychiatrist’s office.

NSFW! p in v, fem!reader, creampie, blowjob, etc etc.

reader is basically my oc, BUT it’s all in the full pov of an x reader fic, so enjoy! i looove prison sal, he wants me so bad teheheheh, i wish i could’ve made him a bit darker, but for this one i wanted to stay with a sal interpretation that fit canon! reblogs and replies motivate me to write more!

your sessions with the mass murderer, sal fisher, are weekly — up until his trial date.

“good morning, mr. fisher.” you said calmly as he was forcefully pushed inside your office. the guards aren’t good people, their position fuels their head with power, making them all believe they were some sort of god.

you frowned as you saw the man stumble after a shove, sal’s gaze was on the floor when sat down. the guards glared down at him.

sal had been pleading not guilty, your job was to examine him mentally, to dissect his mind.

you were tasked to find out why he killed everyone.

in all of your meetings, the man explained a detailed story about his life, about the paranormal activity he came across with. you could even say you believed him, he told his stories clearly.

you asked him the same questions over and over, for him to tell you his past. even with all the repeated questions, he also repeated the same story, no faults, no missing points.

you believed him.

as your meetings progress, you began to enter the realm of..unprofessionalism.

your gaze would linger, your eyes would subtly examine his body, you would stare at his chest, then at the slight chub of his stomach that was covered by his loose inmate uniform.

this wasn’t good.

at night, you would fantasize about him, about what he would be like on top of you, under you, how he would feel between your legs —

it was bad, to the point that when your hand would slip down your pajama pants and all you could think about was him.

you have seen his face too, and for some odd reason..it attracted you more.

you were playing with fire, one wrong move and all of those years spent in university to get your degree would be down the drain.

but, fuck.

you couldn’t deny the fact that you wanted him badly.

looking at the man before you, his gaze was focused on you intently.

he knew what was happening, you may think you were sly, but he’s seen your gaze travel, the way occasionally your cheeks would heat up.

you were still professional in your speech, but he knew.

he could see the way your legs crossed and the way your thighs squeezed together.

it was surprising for him. you, his psychiatrist, seemed to be fantasize about him. him? a deformed, scarred, mass murderer that everyone believed was a psycho path.

“how are you today, mr. fisher?” you asked calmly, lowering your glasses so they framed your nose, your hair was held back by a claw clip and overall you looked good, professional and pretty.

sal stared at you, his gaze focused on your pretty face.

he let out a breath, “not good.” he replied.

“whys that?” you asked with a hum, your legs crossing. you let your papers rest on your lap as you stared up at sal.

he let out a small breath, “i’m in prison.” he replied, a bit of attitude laced in his words. you stopped yourself from scoffing.

“well, you killed people, sal. of course it bounded you to end up here.” you stated, looking at him.

sal shrugged his shoulders.

you stared at him and let out a sigh, “is there anything specific bothering you? other than the fact you’re in the facility.” you asked, curious on how he’s getting along with the inmates.

sal hummed, given the fact he had committed mass murder, most of the inmates didn’t mess with him. they didn’t push him around, they didn’t fight him, or any of the sorts.

he’s heard people call him names, but that’s not unusual.

the inmates were scared of him.

though, as time ticked by, other things began to bother him.

privacy wasn’t an option in prison, he was shoved in a room with four other guys, sal keeps too himself, but given the amount of people around him constantly he couldn’t do much to relief his urges.

it’s been weeks now, and though he doesn’t complain, he desperately wants to satisfy himself.

to put it lightly, he wanted to beat his cock until his body couldn’t take it anymore.

“hm,” sal wasn’t sure what to say, honesty is what’s required in your office, but he didn’t have to air out his dirty laundry like this.

you tilted your head slightly, “mr. fisher?” you mused, “is everything alright?” you asked genuinely.

sal raised his gaze back at you and let out a breath, “how do inmates generally relief their..urges?” he asked, his voice trailing off slightly.

it was embarrassing to ask, especially given the fact you were a woman. he didn’t enjoy having to speak of such topics like that, but you where his psychiatrist — you should be able to understand, right?

you were surprised by his question, given that hasn’t been the topic of discussion you expected, but you didn’t mind.

you have learned many things by working in the prison, so you could help.

“well, most prisoners, they find satisfaction between themselves while some go to secluded places and relieve themselves there.” you explained, though your mind was going wild.

the fantasies you had about him were reflowing your brain.

this wasn’t right — this was illegal, you could get in serious trouble for this.

“..i can help you.”

your voice was quiet, you didn’t even think much about what you were going to say until you said it, the need had clouded your head for a moment.

sal stared at you, behind the prosthetic his eyes were blown wide.

what?

now it was his time to squirm, his cock beginning to harden under his orange jumpsuit. he looked down and cleared his throat, staring down at the bulge in his pants. his face was hot.

you swallowed a lump in the back of your throat before clearing it.

“my apologies, i— i wasn’t thinking. im sorry for my unprofessional behavior.” you stammered horrified by your lack of self control.

you grabbed your papers hurriedly, “how about we just continue with your session?” you said, hoping to forget about what just happened, but sal couldn’t.

his cock was hard, straining against his underwear. it was so sensitive too— it had been so long.

his hands were cuffed in front of his body, so in desperate need for relief, sal’s palm pressed against his boner.

you stared at the man, noticing what was happening.

looking around your office, you gulped.

there weren’t any cameras installed in your office, it was something to have the patients feel less paranoid and more relaxed in your office.

you had a button that was there in case of emergencies if anything where to happen.

biting your lip, you stood from your chair was walked around the corner to where he sat. hearing your heels with each step, he looked up at you.

“mr. fisher..do you want help?”

sal’s breathing got heavy behind the prosthetic, where you really going go do this?

you were looking down at him, waiting for his reply, heat pooling between your legs, coating your pretty red panties.

sal shuddered and nodded his head, his hand pressed against his bulge to find any form of friction that can help him.

“we don’t have cameras here..” you said softly, sal scooted his chair back and you slipped between his legs. you slowly sank down to your knees and your hands gripped his inner thighs as you made yourself comfortable.

sal’s legs were spread, manspreading, you looked up at him.

adjusting your glasses, your gaze fell back onto his boner, gently you moved his hand away and pursed your lips.

sal was looking down at you, now that you were so close you could notice how intense his stare is. you even noticed his pupil was large.

undoing the knot of his waist line, you slipped your hands under and shyly pulled his pants and underwear down.

sal shivered at your touch.

he moved his cuffed hands and let them rest on top of your head so they didn’t stand in the way of your actions.

he looked up and let his gaze focus on the wall in front him, he felt your fingers trace his skin, making him a quirm, then your hand wrapped around his shaft.

a groan left his lips as his head bowed down again, lidded eyes watched as you pulled his cock out.

looking up at him, your eyebrows were raised.

slowly, you leaned down and licked his tip, sal’s body shook.

you leaned your head down and pressed your tongue at the based of his cock, you held his dick up and licked from the bottom up, following the line back to his tip before your lips wrapped around the head.

a breath left sal’s lips as his head leaned back, his eyes shutting as he savored the warm, wet feeling of your mouth against his cock.

one hand held his cock at the base, while the other slipping down to fondle him.

holy fuck.

sal’s head felt like it was going to explode. he felt so good with you wrapped around him, it was killing him.

his hands gripped the back of your head and eagerly forced you to down his cock. it felt so good — he couldn’t control his actions.

your head was pushed down, his cock reaching the back of your throat while your face was pressed against his pubic bone.

you gagged, your shoulders shaking, your hands moved to grip his thighs, your nails digging into his pants. your eyes got overwhelmed with tears due to the gagging, but sal was too lost in his own little world.

he panted quietly as he fucked your mouth.

he moved your head up and down with a lot more force than you had imagined before a shaky grunt left his lips.

he kept your lips pressed against the base of his cock as he threw his head back, cum spurted out of his head, filling your mouth.

you almost choked, gagging as the cum slipped down your throat, luckily sal pulled your head back. one of his cuffed hands moving to jerk his shaft, trying to unload all of the pent up cum.

you shut your eyes as sal finished himself off on your face.

thank good for your glasses.

the man panted heavily, his body seeming a lot less tense.

he continued to grip his now softening cock as he regained himself from the fuzzy feeling in his head.

you sighed and took off your glasses, looking at the milky thick liquid that stained the glass.

wiping it off with you thumb, then rubbed the glass with the end of your shirt and then let them rest on the top of your head.

sal let out a deep breath before his hands moved to shove his cock back into his pants.

you quickly regained yourself and stood on your feet, your knees hurting from the extended time spent on them.

quickly remembering you just sucked off a mass murderer you cleared your throat and walked back to your chair. “this never happened, mr. fisher. understood?” you said, looking at sal with a firm look.

the man nodded his head and cleared his throat, “yeah—“ he stammered, his face was still flushed, but due to his prosthetic you couldn’t see.

looking up at your wrist watch, you hummed.

“see you next week, mr. fisher.”

sal couldn’t stop thinking about you, about what happened. it was infecting his thoughts with ideas that made him uncomfortably horny.

practically counting down the days until his next session, he was excited when the day rolled around and he could see your pretty face again.

“fisher!” one of the guards stood outside his cell, looking up, the guards glared down at him. “get up! you have your meeting with dr. ramirez today!” he yelled.

standing up, sal stepped over quietly and let the guards handcuff his arms in front of him.

the path to your office was one that he had engraved in his head, one female guard was walking in front of him, leading the way, while the male guard stood behind him.

after a minutes long walk, the three arrived to your office.

the female guard knocked loudly on the wooden door, hearing a voice call from inside, she opened the door.

“inmate sal fisher is here for his appointment.” she informed, opening the door wide so you could see the man standing by the side.

when you heard the knock on your office door, you had been reading up on sal’s file, again, and again, and again.

the case was so interesting to you, sal looked sane, he wasn’t showing signs of anti social personality disorder, he was polite — so why? you weren’t a skeptic, you believed his story, but a cult that is trying to take over the world? that seemed a bit too far fetched.

your outfit was professional, yet pretty.

a pencil skirt that hugged your hips, a white button down shirt, black thigh high stockings, and heels. your hair was being held back with the same claw clip you used before.

you looked good, though maybe your shirt was too tight for your chest..

“come in!” you called, still reading through the man’s archive. “yes?” you mused when the door opened, upon hearing sal’s name you looked up.

was it already time for his appointment?

adjusting your glasses, you looked up. “oh, yes. let him inside, thank you.” you said, nodding your head.

the male guard shoved sal inside the room and slammed the door shut. the automatic lock clicking.

“good afternoon, mr. fisher.” you hummed, putting your papers aside. “how are you today?” you asked, watching as the man sat down before you.

he hummed in response, “i’m okay.” you nodded, “better than last week, yes?” you asked, beginning to jot down his answers.

“mhm,” he hummed.

“well that’s good! i’m glad to hear you are doing better.” you said, clasping your hands together. “before we begin, is there..anything you would like to mention? about the prison, cellmates, how you have been feeling in the past week?” you listed off, placing your pen down and listening to him intently.

sal stared at you for a moment, his mind drifting up the last session he had with you, he remembered the way your lips pressed against his head, the way your lips wrapped around him — the way he shoved your head down.

he swore he could feel his mouth salivate and his blood swirling.

he cleared his throat, “uh,” he could easily say that his tension only heightened. the fact it was a problematic situation made him ache for you more.

he didn’t know what to say, was he supposed to ask again? to beg for you to help him again?

you sat across from him like before.

after last week, you couldn’t stop thinking about what happened. the thrill of it all had your mind in a chokehold.

at night, before bed, you would use your vibrator and pretended it was him, you would fuck yourself with it, starting off slow and steady — feeling the way the silicon would press on your walls, then you would increase your speed until your body couldn’t take it anymore.

thought you wished it was the real thing.

the crush you had on this man was wrong, very, very wrong. he killed an apartment complex filled with people, and yet you dreamed about having his cock fill you up.

how sick where you?

biting the inside of your lip, you cleared your throat.

“mr. fisher?” you asked, wondering where his mind had trailed off. he seemed to snap back to reality after hearing you call for him. “uh, what?” he said looking at you.

you squinted, “what are you thinking about?” you mused, asking for the sake of his case. in your assumption, you believed it could be related to the murders, to his past — but no.

he was thinking about when you gave him head, his thoughts filling with other ideas, how would you feel like when wrapped around him?

he paused. “oh, uh—“ he wasn’t sure what to say, you caught him off guard, now he was put on the spot

“you can be honest.” you reassure, trying to stay professional.

he squirmed in his seat, “you.” he replied, glancing away.

oh.

you thought, clearing your throat. “mr. fisher, what happened last week was an act of unprofessionalism..” you paused, “and it shouldn’t be repeated given the circumstances. i put my job at risk over what happened.” you explained, though your mind begged for another time spent with him.

sal nodded in understanding, but he wanted to beg for you to touch him again.

looking away from him, you let out a sigh, leaning back against your chair.

“but..” you began quietly, “if you make it quick, we won’t get caught.” you said, turning your head to stare at him.

sal gulped, feeling his cock twitch in his pants again.

“really?” he asked quietly, scooting his chair closer to the table.

nodding, you stood up from your chair and rounded the table, before sitting at the edge of the table. “really.” you confirmed, your hands moving to undo the buttons of your shirt.

your bra was black and lacy, holding your breasts perfectly. sal’s mouth felt dry as he watched you with widened eyes.

his gaze focused on your tits, how good they looked with your bra. you didn’t take off your shirt completely, but the buttons were completely undone.

sal’s cock was pressing tightly against his pants his hands trembled under the handcuffs.

you pulled your pencil skirt up and let him see the matching black panties. he let out a breath, “did you match on purpose?” he asked softly, staring at you intensely.

you smiled, “maybe.” you said, spreading your legs for him — inviting him in.

sal felt a shiver go down his spine, “fuck.” he whispered, “c’mon, stand up.” you hummed, “you have to be quick if you want do do this.” you reminded.

sal was at a loss for words, he stood up and stared down at you, your hands reached out and you tugged at the waistband of his pants, you didn’t pull them off, you simply lowered them to his mid thighs for easy access.

sal moved his cuffed hands down and he pulled his cock out from his underwear before staring back at you.

you slipped your lacy panties down and let them dangle from one of your legs.

sal watched as your pretty cunt was exposed, he was grateful his prosthetic was on, because he would he embarrassed if you saw the way he was flustered.

your cunt was slick, wet. you were already so wet for him.

he bit his bottom lip and his hands moved to grip your thighs, he yanked your thighs towards him so you were closer to him.

sal was standing between your legs, you looked down and watched as sal’s calloused hand gripped his shaft, his hands jerking himself for a bit before he pressed the girthy top against your entrance.

your body shook, wishing you had lube with you. sal moved his prosthetic hastily and exposed his lips before he spat down on his hand and spread his saliva and pre-cum down his shaft, coating it with faux lube.

after coating it with a hefty amount of saliva, he slipped his cock inside your glistening pussy.

a small gasp left your lips as his cock pushed your spongy walls apart, his cock had more girth than length, but it felt so good.

your head leaned back as a choked breath left your lips.

as he slipped inside a guttural groan left his lips, your slick walls stretching to accommodate his girth. hugging him snuggly.

your lips were parted as a soft sigh left your lips, you felt so full — no dildo could compare to the girth of him.

your hands gripped the table, trying to stabilize yourself.

sal’s grip on your thighs was tight, bruising almost. 

after he bottomed out, he leaned his head back with a breath as he savored the heat you brought him. he swears this is the best pussy he’s ever had.

his hips pressed against yours, moving his hands up to your hips, he gripped them tight before pulling his hips back and pushing back inside.

his movement was hard, putting his weight behind the thrust.

your eyes shut as a small whine left your lips, leaning down, sal rested his body on top of yours and his hips drawled back again.

his thrusts weren’t fast, but they were hard, letting you savor the way the his cock rubbed against your walls, your legs were next to hips, dangling in the air given the fact you were at the edge of the table.

sal’s arms slipped under your back, almost as if he was hugging you, his face pressed against the crook of your neck, hiding his masked face.

you had the delight of hearing the muffled heavy breathing and the small grunts leaving his lips.

your arms moved and you gripped his shoulders, digging your nails into his uniform.

your moans were soft, choked, trying to stay quiet.

though your office was private, the halls weren’t. if you weren’t quiet you risked getting caught which would put you and sal in a bad situation.

sal grunted, his hands slipping down to your lower stomach.

one of his cuffed hands pressed against where your womb would be, while the other slipped between your folds.

the pressure of one of his hands pressing against your stomach combined with the feeling of your clit being pressed on made you let out a broke moan.

“shhhh,” sal reminded you, his face still nuzzled on your neck.

you bit your bottom lip and nodded your head, desperate trying to keep your composure.

sal’s finger pressed on your perked clit, slowly rubbing it gently, a heat began to spread on your lower stomach, your hips unknowingly grinding up to meet his hand.

his experience surprised you — that and the fact he wasn’t fucking you in an uncomfortably rough manner like would expect from an inmate.

your eyes shut and your eyebrows furrowed.

“s—sal—“ you gasped out, your nails still griping his uniform.

he hummed, letting you know he was listening. “feel good?” he muttered, pressing his hips against yours firmly.

you nodded your head, “yes—“ you agreed desperately.

your legs wrapped around his hips, keeping him close to you. sal’s fingers rubbed slow circles on your clit, he was driving you insane.

the noises of skin slapping and the wet squelches of your cunt sucking his cock back in were present under the moans and whines that left your lips.

sal’s head was fuzzy again, he hadn’t been able to fuck someone in what felt like forever now, so this felt like a godsend.

the way your walls hugged his cock was too good, spongey and warm.

as he angled his hips, his thrusts increased a bit of speed, with the angle he was able to press against a gummy part inside you.

he felt as your back arched and your grip tightened — but before you could cry out in pleasure his he pulled back and moved his hands to cover your mouth forcefully.

he was hyper aware on the fact they were walking on thin ice, and he couldn’t risk getting caught and putting your job in jeopardy.

you stared up a sal with lidded eyes, your eyebrows furrowing upwards and your eyes blinking slowly as they

sal’s cock was still buried deep inside you, he stared down at you, his blue eyes seeming to shine under the light. he let out a breath and then pulled back again and shoved his cock inside you again. you let out a muffled whine and slipped your hand down to your clit, you toyed with your nub hastily as your legs shook in anticipation.

sal’s body was hot, his skin was coated with a thin layer of sweat, his cock was tense and heavy.

he wanted to cum so bad, but he wanted to wait for you.

luckily, it didn’t take long as your fingers toyed with your clit, your hips rolling up to meet his thrusts, after feeling your walls flutter around his shaft, he knew you were close.

his hands stayed covering your mouth when you came.

your back arched and your legs trembled, your hips rolled up, riding out your orgasm.

sal was grateful you came quickly, because he couldn’t keep edging himself any longer.

in a hazy moment he leaned back down, moving his hands from your mouth so he could land his final few thrusts properly.

he put his weight behind his thrusts, his body pressing against yours as his hips slammed against yours.

when he came, a muffled groan left his lips.

your eyes were practically rolled back, a shaky sigh leaving your lips when you felt sal pump his cum inside you. he coated your walls with his thick, milky cum before letting his body rest on top of you.

his face moved down to nuzzle your chest, you were the closest thing he’s had to comfort in so long, he just wanted to cherish it — just a bit more.

you let him rest on your chest, your arms moving to wrap around him, you held him firmly. hugging him.

sal nuzzled against you and sighed, he let his eyes slip shut for a moment before your fingers tangled themselves in his blue locks.

“i don’t think you’re a murderer, sal.” you whispered.

sal’s eyes opened, “you’re the only one.” he replied, pulling away from your touch, he slipped his softening cock out of your cunt and hastily stuffed it back in his pants.

you sat up on the table and started to re-button your shirt, “all i’m saying is the truth, doctor.” he added, looking at you through his prosthetic.

you slipped off the table and readjusted your panties before fixing your skirt.

“i know.” you nodded, fixing your hair too.

he looked at you, “go to the apartments..the treehouse. you’ll see.” he said before plopping back down on his chair.

adjusting your glasses you let out a hum.

“i’ll see you next week, mr. fisher.”

tags !! @chaobun @dollface6666 @airenaa @instanttacocoloreggs @rottindecay @sebastitties @sinisteryanderescribe @mrzombielover

So sorry for my absence you guys. I’ve been doing a bunch of shit lately like visiting Las Vegas and shit. I’ll try to get back on my regular posting schedule but I don’t think that’ll happen for a while because of end of year testing that’s going on in school rn💔💔

This whole board is so me fr!!

☣ more middle regression by autistic user ☣

felt like dying when i read this but VMPRYIAs WRITNG >>

ok respectfully you’re writing is absolutely ethereal😭. Anyways I have a prompt that may get you to write something for the SF fandom (I’m very fixated on it and I can’t find decent content lol)

~ok so yk how Sal is on that killing spree to free everyone from the red eyed demon thing? What if the reader had been living there and now he has to kill them? Idk I just feel very angsty today

(have a lovely day 💜)

SAL FISHER X READER: the end.

i am putting a gun to my head, this was agony. i did some small research on how it feels like to be stabbed so my description is a bit detailed. i tried to expand on the feelings sal felt as he did this :( i hope i did the scene justice and i hope you enjoy! reblogs & replies help me be motivated!

TW — murder, blood, depictions of stabbing and death. angst.

sal’s chest felt heavy.

this felt like a scene straight from his nightmares, but no — it was real.

his eyes were clouded with tears, his lip quivering. his tears stained his skin and the inside of his prosthetic. he stood over the corpse of soda and faced chug’s bloodied corpse.

“i—i’m sorry.” sal stuttered.

in his hand he held the knife.

he wanted to die, he wanted to stab himself just like how he stabbed the others.

first, he lost larry. larry, his best friend. his brother. the demon was beginning to take over him leading him to do the did the only thing he could — drank himself to death to avoid having his soul taken away from him.

then, terrance.

the little boy broke the heartbreaking reality to him.

to save them all, he had to kill them.

sal didn’t want to, he didn’t want to hurt them. his friends, his family.. but, it was either save them by killing them or lose them to the demon’s power.

the world wouldn’t understand, but at least he did. at least he knew that this was the easy way out.

sniffling, he stumbled to the door of chug’s apartment and then walked out.

his grip on the knife was tight, the the sudden realization of what was next almost made his collapse.

you.

you were next on his list, you.

his girlfriend, his everything, his confidant. you. he had to kill you next.

his stomach twisted, the anxiety, the fear, the grief, the pain. it was all too much, he felt nauseous, he wanted to throw up, he wanted to wake up from this nightmare.

he wanted to be with his mom.

he wanted to be cradled by her, to have his face pressed against his mother’s chest as he wept away the fear of this nightmare. he wanted her to gently pet his hair and reassure him — ‘it was just a nightmare, dear. it’s okay, mommy’s here and she’s not going to let anything bad happen to you.’

but no, his mom wasn’t there. she wasn’t going to hold him, she wasn’t going to tell him he would be okay. she wasn’t there.

and now, you weren’t going to be there either.

you had been the one he cried to when he felt the grief of his mother’s passing, you had been there. you had always been there. you listened to him, you held him, you cried with him.

and now he was going to lose you.

who was he going to cry to after this? his dad is dead, larry is dead, you’ll be dead soon. who was going to hold him and reassure him he did the right thing?

you weren’t gone yet, but he was already mourning.

the walk to your apartment felt like he was walking to his doom, which honestly felt like he was.

he had sobbed as he went up to the floor you lived in, he moved his prosthetic to wipe his tears and now he was in front of your apartment door.

it was time.

opening the door with the spare key you had gifted him during your first year anniversary, sal stepped inside.

the apartment smelled like you, he could smell the sweet candles you had set up around the house, they were vanilla scented.

he always loved the smell of your apartment.

“hello?” you called from your bedroom.

sal froze at the sound of your voice, soft and his favorite. he loved your voice, he could fall asleep to you just rambling.

you entered the front area and saw sal, a bright smile spread on your lips almost immediately. “sal!” you said happily.

you could tell he didn’t seem lively, the knife was in his back pocket, hidden from your view.

looking at his hands, you saw the blood that stained them, then you noticed a bit of blood on his mask. “sal?!” you said in alarm, walking closer. “are you hurt? are you okay? what happened?” you asked, concerned for him.

he’s going to miss you, so, so much.

he was going to miss the way you smiled, the way your eyes crikled, the way you pursed you lips when you focused on something, your laugh, the way you lit up the room, your hair, you skin, your style, your art, your music taste, your everything.

he was going to miss how you always shared snacks with him, how you always called him at night while he was in the suburbs, how you would arrange study dates. how you would hold his hand tightly and point out every single thing you liked, how you cared about him.

he was going to miss how you—

“sal?” you asked, standing in front of him , your eyebrows furrowed up in worry for his wellbeing.

he wasn’t going to miss this, what he was going to do to you.

“i love you.” sal said, his hand reaching to his back pocket.

you laughed, “i love you too! what’s happening?” you smiled, an eyebrow raised in confusion. sal’s hand gripped the base of his knife.

“please forgive me.” he whispered, you could feel his heavy gaze behind his mask, the way his voice cracked, was he crying?

you looked down at his hand, watching as it reached for the back of his pocket, you then saw the blade that peaked from behind him, stained and bloodied.

you stepped back, “sal? sal— what..what is going on?” you asked, letting out a nervous laugh as you stepped away from him.

you heard a muffled sob come from him, “please, y/n. please forgive me, this is the only—way.” he said, you could hear the pain behind his voice, he was now gripping the knife by his side.

“the only way for what? sal, s—sal, please put the knife down, what’s going on?” you asked frantically as you tried to step away from him.

sal’s vision was cloudy from the tears, his already broken heart shattering as he watched the fear in your eyes. “the d—demon, it..i need to save you, please..” he sobbed, stepping closer.

you pressed against the wall and watched desperately as sal stalked closer to you.

“i love you, y/n.” sal whispered.

he stood in front of you, his shoulders shook as you stared at him. you were at a loss for words, your eyes were wide in fear, tears quietly streamed down your cheeks.

sal’s grip on the knife got tighter, his knuckles turning white. “say it back—“ he sobbed, “p—please, say you love me.” he cried.

he was begging, pleading for you to say your words to him.

“s—sal—“ you stuttered fearfully, “i love y—you, i always have.” you sobbed, your gaze moving down to his knife.

“please don’t—“ you pleaded, sal gulped and shook his head. “i know it might not look like it..b-but i’m saving you, i promise.” he stumbled.

he didn’t want to do this, he didn’t have the strength to lift the knife and puncture your stomach.

you stared at him fearfully, you never understood much of the paranormal activity, you only knew a surface level of information, but you trusted him.

how silly.

he’s about to kill you, but you trusted his word. he had always been the person you most relied on.

a sudden punch was felt against your abdomen.

one, and another, and another.

you didn’t register the fact he had stabbed you yet, the adrenaline rush hiding the agonizing pain that would soon take over.

looking down, you watched as sal removed his knife from your stomach. your blood was oozing out, staining your clothes and then you felt it—

it felt like a searing pain in your skin, your organs had ruptured at the impact and now you were left in agony.

a choked cry left your lips as you tried to cradle your wounds, your knees feeling weak, and then your screamed. a gurgly guttural scream, one that displayed the agony you felt as your wounds seared.

you collapsed on the floor with a heavy thud.

sal stood over you, he was taking off his prosthetic.

dropping it down to the floor, he sank down to his knees and he was quick to hold you. he could feel your warm blood staining his shirt as he held you.

your hearing was muffled, you couldn’t make out what he was saying, you could hear your blood streaming through your body and your pulse.

it hurt so much you couldn’t even speak.

your breathing got fast, you felt yourself gasping for air. your chest hurt, you couldn’t breathe— your mouth began to fill with a metallic liquid.

blood began to spill from your mouth, your coughs were gurgled.

your body was moving with every sob that came from sal. his grip on your was deadly. he didn’t want to let go, he wanted to savor the warmth of your body one last time.

now he was weeping, his sobs were loud and guttural, he wanted you back. he wanted you to hold him, to tell him you were fine.

he had envisioned himself growing old with you.

he even thought about marrying you when he finished his studies, he wanted to have a family with you. it all sounded so stupid now, but he was envisioning the life he could’ve had with you.

he babbled various ‘i love you’s’ as he held you.

his voice was muffled for you.

you were so tired.

your eyes got heavy, your strength was depleted. you didn’t want to move, you didn’t want to speak.

you couldn’t.

it hurt, everything hurt so much.

your airways filled with mucus, your breathing got nasally and scratchy.

you weakly held sal’s hand for one last time and then your eyes slipped shut.

two more breaths passed and suddenly it all stopped.

sal sore that time stopped.

your grip stopped and your body went limp.

looking down at you, sal let out a sob, his face was tear-filled and red. his heart was broken.

first his mom, then larry, then his dad and lisa, everyone — and finally you.

the people he most deeply cared about were gone, and it was all because of him. he did this, the guilt that overcame his body was immense. he thought about stabbing the knife deep into his abdomen and twisting it, to feel the same pain you felt.

but he was scared.

deep down, he was just a small child, one that grew up alone, the only people that accepted him were gone.

now, he was left alone.

just how it started.

Yes the Vince fat jokes need to stop like no one thinks he might read that stuff

SAME WITH FAT JOKES TARGETED TOWARDS AXL ROSE.

people who make those kinda jokes needs to shit themselves cuz what the actual fuck is ur problem?!

And I know we aren’t talking an about Kurt Cobain jokes but to the people who joke about his suicide… I hope nothing but pain your way! Because who sits there and genuinely finds joking about someone’s SUICIDE funny??????

Some people can be really fucking shitty.