ON HIATUS UNTIL AUGUST 1ST

[Fandomless OC RP blog.

Multi-Character, Multi-Verse, Multi-Ship

Tracking the tag 'pleasedonotpet'.

I am the FC for Cal but I do not claim to be any other person associated with this blog, fictional or otherwise.

Mun is 18+]

Muse of the Month: Bucky Williams

M!A Status: None

ourintimationsofspooks:

pleasedonotpet:

"I’m fine…" He grunted, though it hurt to even speak. RJ turned his back to her and lifted his shirt in the mirror, examining the damage again. The bruises covered most of his abdomen and a portion of his chest, and the inky wounds stretched around his sides to his back. "Fuckin’ ugly mess." He muttered to himself.

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"RJ, you’re not fine and you know that." The blonde muttered, shaking her head. She examined him for a moment, getting a glimpse of his chest in stomach that had black and blue scattered across. 

"Not like it won’t heal." He pointed out, covering his body with his shirt again, feeling twice as ugly with her nearby. He wished she would leave him. "Why do you give a shit anyway? Doesn’t disturb you."

POSTED 7 hours ago · via · source · with 8 notes · REBLOG
decorusx asked:
"You're not supposed to see me before the ceremony!"

pleasedonotpet answered:

"I’m sorry, Anna… I’m sorry but…"

She’s here…”

decorusx:

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"What?" It’s a quiet question and the feelings of tradition are thrown out the window as she gathers up her dress to make it easier to walk.

"How’d she find out?"

"I don’t know… But… She’s here… She saw me…"

He whirled at the door opening.

"Well shit." The blonde smirked, glancing at Anna. "Well don’t you look good in white."

POSTED 10 hours ago · via · source · with 2 notes · REBLOG

||Drugs|| Open

dismantledxsoul:

pleasedonotpet:

Today would be RJ’s last meeting and he knew it. His plans were made to pack up and run away tonight. He’d met a guy who’d called himself Jay, who told him he’d give RJ a place of his own and give him a job. The job described was… weird, and opened a whole new world to RJ, but he’d always believed in dark-sided things… Anyone who’d met his mother would too.

He wanted to say goodbye to Michael, to wish him well, but the large man slipped out, quickly and almost unnoticed. He felt especially lost when he looked around the room to find it missing the only member of the group he might have considered looking up to.

RJ walked out slowly, conveniently forgetting to contact his foster mother about him being finished. He was going to take a long walk back, think of his plan, question if he was really going to go through with it, move back into the city and start a life underground. A shadow passed over him and he glanced up, found Michael standing outside the building. He lifted a hand limply in greeting. 

"Hi… Do you… have another of those?"

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Brisk autumn wind whipped the Irishmans curls into a wild panic. Surprisingly he enjoyed that kind of weather so didn’t mind at all, only when renegade wisps of hair began obstructing his view did the man make any complaint. Besides, It’s not like he had anywhere to be rushing off to, expect for work maybe, but knowing Angie and how lenient she was that wouldn’t be an issue. One cheeky grin and a little shrug should placate her imminent telling off.

He turned again when the door hinges squeaked and this time gave a chipper smile. There stood RJ in all his sheepish glory. “Sure,” Michael said, slipping a hand into his pocket, giving the younger man a smoke. He took a long drag from his own before speaking again.

"Ignore what that wanker said. What he doesn’t know about drugs, and all the shit that comes with ‘em could fill a thesaurus, hundreds of ‘em actually. Come on. There’s a cafe not too far from here, reckon you could do with some coffee." His long legs kicked off from the wall and strode out onto open street. The three’o’clock school run hadn’t hit yet and the roads seemed bare. Good, Michael thought, the less folk around the better. Too many and his senses would go haywire. 

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RJ might have explained how he didn’t drink coffee, how he tried to avoid things that made it even harder for him to sleep at night, (though, he’d fall into the vices of energy drinks when he needed a particular boost) but he accepted, wanting an excuse not to return to the Dollhouse. 

"Thanks," He smiled, taking the cigarette and lighting it. His foster parents forbade him from doing any drugs, thinking he’d be able to quit if they simply didn’t allow him to get to them. They gave him nicotine patches but all they did was make him feel sticky. What they didn’t realize was how easy it was for him to lift a smoke off of someone, or to steal someone’s pack if he was desperate. The smoke lifted from his lungs in an exhale, the light wind blowing the warm breath back in his face where it clung to his hair and clothes. He’d reek of tobacco when he got back, and he’d get a lecture. 

He knew he ought to be in school, but he was nowhere close to graduating, and his new therapist thought it would not be harmful to pull him out of school and let him adjust before letting him return for summer school and then real school. His foster parents put him on that path but he had no plans of going back to school, not with the new deal of life he was given.

"Do you gotta phone I can use?" He asked, nibbling nervously at the end of the cigarette. "I gotta call Barb and tell her the meeting’s running late…"

POSTED 10 hours ago · via with 9 notes · REBLOG

tarukai788:

thatonechick42:

littlecupcakenymph:

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Oh.My.God. 

There ARE ACTUAL REAL MEN OUT THERE??!

THAT RESPECT WOMEN?

THAT ACCEPT “no” FOR AN ANSWER?

What.is.happening.

Quick, reblog this everywhere so we can learn and grow as a species!

the fact that this is shocking is saddening.

Prostitute/Stripper Starter Sentenses

"How much?"
"So what do you like?
"Top? Bottom? Versatile?"
"Give me the royal treatment, then."
"I don't kiss on the lips, sorry."
"So how long have you been doing.. What you're doing?"
"Can you.. Do that again?"
"You don't have to go, you know. I can make us breakfast?"
"You deserve a nice girl/guy. You shouldn't trail after someone like me."
"Just because I'm your whore for the night doesn't mean you get permission to treat me like one."
"I wasn't supposed to give you this number.."
"In the day light we don't know each other."
"It was on the house."
"You really fucked me up, you know that? I've never had this problem with a client before--I shouldn't have this problem with a client ever."
"No feelings. That was our deal."
"I can't give you what you want. I can't give you a normal relationship."
"You the one who called for an all nighter?"
"My favorite regular-- what can I do for you tonight?"
"I may be what I am at night, but in the real world I have a life, okay! Stop butting in to it!"
"It's okay to call me what I am. A whore, don't need to sugar coat it."
"Of course it's a fake name!"
"This isn't a date, it's business."
"I'll let you do anything you want.. Just follow my few rules."
"I know you have rules about this.. but can I take you out sometime? Not as this you--but as--well, you."
"Just because you've been my regular for months/years, doesn't make us friends."
"What do you think this is, 'Pretty Woman'?"
POSTED 10 hours ago · via · source · with 2,713 notes · REBLOG

notsogeniusgirls:

pleasedonotpet:

Well that was vague.

"Do you mind elaborating on that? I mean, not to pry, I just want to be sure you won’t feel uncomfortable for the same reasons here and that we can be sure to accommodate you as much as we can, if need be."

Hopefully she didn’t have any big dreams for what a pizza place was going to be or high expectations, for that matter.

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"Oh, it’s just that I was told I could actually interact with the clients more directly than handling their paper work." Dani shrugged.

"Nothing major. I just didn’t enjoy handling the paper work very much." She added, scrunching her nose slightly.

She knew she couldn’t expect much from a job at a pizza place, and she didn’t. All she really wanted was to have a job where she could interact with people a little more than she was able to at her previous job. Besides, it was more about saving up to be able to continue her studies.

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Aiden had to resist a cackle. “Well, you’ll be interacting with customersa lot.” He explained. He’d rather have a pretty blonde working the counter than a greasy teen boy. If she wanted to deal with people pissed off about the quality of their $6 pizza, she could do it.

"There’s not a whole lot of paperwork here. I don’t know what sort of paperwork you had to fill out at your old job, but here all we do is pizza."

POSTED 11 hours ago · via · source · with 6 notes · REBLOG

the-cutie-nextdoor:

pleasedonotpet:

"You’re a pretty gal, just get a couple of hookups and don’t bother with protection." He gave a shrug. "I should also inform you that you’ll need to do the dirty work yourself… Killing it, I mean. I’ll ensure there are no legal or social consequences but how you deal with that is your problem."

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"I guess" she sighed biting her lip. "I have to do it?" she questioned wide eyed. 

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"Why yes, if I could just go killing babies to my hearts desire, I wouldn’t need to help you." He explained. "You could get someone else to do it, but I cannot help you if that person reports you to the police. Even if they do not but they refuse, you are left with a baby you don’t want and an ailing brother if you don’t take care of the problem yourself."

POSTED 12 hours ago · via · source · with 16 notes · REBLOG

||Drugs|| Open

dismantledxsoul:

pleasedonotpet:

When Michael shook his head, RJ couldn’t help but feel as though Michael was ashamed of him, and it made RJ quiet himself quickly and bluntly. When Peter addressed him, he kept his gaze on the ground, feeling like he’d done something wrong.

Michael said words RJ understood but could never articulate. He knew he’d likely have felt better saying it out loud if Peter hadn’t been there, or if he at least hadn’t said anything. RJ only came here to be with like-minded people, without the righteous guidance of someone with a counseling certificate. Of course, these meetings would quickly turn into a junkies-getting-high party without him, but sometimes the way he spoke made RJ want to shoot up.

He gave a nod in response, nothing more, and Michael pulled the attention back to himself. Peter wrapped up the meeting quickly after that, they recited their mantras, and everyone stood to leave.

RJ always felt lost at this part, and he stood uncomfortably in the space as others greeted each other for a chat or simply went home. He didn’t want to go home, though, had nowhere to go home. If he went home it would be empty, left just the way the police left it when they arrested his mother. His foster home felt like a doll house, everything so pristine it could only be fake. He had a fake doll mother and a fake doll father and all they did, day in and day out, was play house with him, pretend he was their son, drive him to and from these NA meetings after the doctor discovered needle tracks on his arms during the check-up. 

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When the meeting concluded, everyone departed into their cliques and groups. Michael slipped out through the nearest fire exit, hastened by Peter as he began sneaking closer to approach him about something or other. He should have known the Irishman wouldn’t stick around to hear it- he’d been clean for almost a year now- the only reason he turned up at all was for the advice, maybe Peter would one day spew out something useful. Like how to handle an addiction to something he’d never even tried. Something no one else in that god forsaken meeting room had either, blood. 

His six foot five frame leaned up against the community centers outer wall, a crumpled cigarette held loosely between his fingertips. “Arrogant prick,” he muttered to himself. Still irked at how the pompous older man had dealt with RJ’s confession, kid needed real advice. Not a pat on the fucking back for speaking. 

His attention was caught by the squeaking of metal hinges beside him. Kate and Eliza tottered out together, laughing and joking. Both gave a wink as they passed by, Michael nodded politely in return; he wasn’t waiting for them. He wanted to see RJ. 

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Today would be RJ’s last meeting and he knew it. His plans were made to pack up and run away tonight. He’d met a guy who’d called himself Jay, who told him he’d give RJ a place of his own and give him a job. The job described was… weird, and opened a whole new world to RJ, but he’d always believed in dark-sided things… Anyone who’d met his mother would too.

He wanted to say goodbye to Michael, to wish him well, but the large man slipped out, quickly and almost unnoticed. He felt especially lost when he looked around the room to find it missing the only member of the group he might have considered looking up to.

RJ walked out slowly, conveniently forgetting to contact his foster mother about him being finished. He was going to take a long walk back, think of his plan, question if he was really going to go through with it, move back into the city and start a life underground. A shadow passed over him and he glanced up, found Michael standing outside the building. He lifted a hand limply in greeting. 

"Hi… Do you… have another of those?"

POSTED 12 hours ago · via with 9 notes · REBLOG

||Drugs|| Open

dismantledxsoul:

pleasedonotpet:

"Used to be a painkiller, now it’s a pain causer." RJ snorted under his breath, amused at Michael’s banter. Others in the group didn’t care for him, but RJ liked him, he liked his wit, his humor. He liked that he wasn’t always so serious all the time. If it hadn’t been for Michael, actually, RJ probably wouldn’t attend support group.

However, he spared Peter the awkwardness and spoke up on the subject again. “That’s what’s so freaky about drugs, I think, is because they start out pretty harmless but people mess with them so that they fuck you up… That’s how my dad OD’d last month, he thinks he can do drugs the same way he did years ago, that he’s doing the same drugs, but he’s not… He thought that if weed didn’t hurt me when I was thirteen that Smack wouldn’t hurt me when I was fourteen, and Coke wouldn’t hurt me at fifteen…”

It was the first time RJ had ever shared that much about his past, proved that he was one of them and not some kid sitting in for a school project. He glanced at Michael, only feeling safe looking at him, then turned his eyes down.

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As soon as RJ began speaking of his father and the trials they’d faced together, Michael shook his head. It wasn’t a sympathetic shake, more of a- oh god what are you doing. Don’t encourage the guy- kind of shake, but it was too late. Peter latched onto the confession like a baby to a teat.

"That was very brave of you to share. Perhaps others in the group could learn from this, everything within these walls is confidential… we understand your pain." The ageing man leaned into the conversation, hands clasped neatly on his knee.

"Christ sake, leave the kid alone, Peter. You think we come here fer yer fecking sympathy? He’s had a rough time, harder than you’d ever know so don’t go all daisies and fecking sunshine on him, alright?” The Irishmans tone was unusually harsh, eyes burning into their group leader, daring him to say anything else. Peter cleared his throat, sweating and turned back to the youngest member. If Michael didn’t know better he’d say the bloke looked apologetic.

"Thank-you for sharing that with us," he pushed those spectacles further up his nose then turned back on Michael with an arched brow, "What about you, you seem awfully chatty today?" 

His shoulders lifted in a gentle shrug, nonchalance in it’s purest form. “When aren’t I? You want someone to talk to, call yer wife… or husband.” 

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When Michael shook his head, RJ couldn’t help but feel as though Michael was ashamed of him, and it made RJ quiet himself quickly and bluntly. When Peter addressed him, he kept his gaze on the ground, feeling like he’d done something wrong.

Michael said words RJ understood but could never articulate. He knew he’d likely have felt better saying it out loud if Peter hadn’t been there, or if he at least hadn’t said anything. RJ only came here to be with like-minded people, without the righteous guidance of someone with a counseling certificate. Of course, these meetings would quickly turn into a junkies-getting-high party without him, but sometimes the way he spoke made RJ want to shoot up.

He gave a nod in response, nothing more, and Michael pulled the attention back to himself. Peter wrapped up the meeting quickly after that, they recited their mantras, and everyone stood to leave.

RJ always felt lost at this part, and he stood uncomfortably in the space as others greeted each other for a chat or simply went home. He didn’t want to go home, though, had nowhere to go home. If he went home it would be empty, left just the way the police left it when they arrested his mother. His foster home felt like a doll house, everything so pristine it could only be fake. He had a fake doll mother and a fake doll father and all they did, day in and day out, was play house with him, pretend he was their son, drive him to and from these NA meetings after the doctor discovered needle tracks on his arms during the check-up. 

POSTED 12 hours ago · via with 9 notes · REBLOG

Relationship Asks:

♛ : OTP for my muse
☠ : NOTP for my muse
♙ : Character my muse hates
♗ : Child!Character my muse would adopt.
♠ : Character my muse would have a one night stand with.
♥ : Weird ship I have for my muse.
♜ : My muse's best friend.
☢ : Character my muse is afraid of.
☣ : Character my muse respects greatly.
☩: Crossover Ship with my muse.
POSTED 13 hours ago · via · source · with 16,583 notes · REBLOG
TL