You Wanna' Hear The Real Story?

Pick my brain, or whatever they say. Just don't get too brave. ((Independent Tommy DeVito RP blog))

[manofwettowels]

Poppa loops

[manofwettowels]

"Say one more word and I swear I'll punch you." (Tommy and Joey)

“One. More. Word.”

[manofwettowels]

3 sentence fic: "Dad, can we please get ie cream??"

“God, you are a fucking MISTAKE. YES we can get ice cream.”

[manofwettowels]

Have you ever felt like you were really loved?

“nope lol.”

[manofwettowels]

So what's the deal with Mary? What is she to you?

“A no good, toe sucking whore.”

[manofwettowels]

Have you ever gone skinny dipping?

“i have body dismorphia.”

[manofwettowels]

(Teenage!AU) "What the hell, Tommy? You were supposed to meet me Tony's last night and you stood me up! And now Jessie is tellin' me that she saw you 'round town with that Rachael. You are no good, two-timin' loser!!"

“Okay, so, here’s what we’re gonna do. You’re gonna apologize, and go away.”

[manofwettowels]

So what's REALLY going on with you and Cadence? I've heard some pretty damning rumors...

Cadence is my birth mother

[manofwettowels]

"You looked better from across the room, but now that I’m here I might as well talk to you." ((their entire relationship in 1 sentence tbh

“No, you know what? I don’t need this. I’m fucking GORGEOUS and maybe you just can’t appreciate it. So... the questION I ask it; what gives you the right to do the things you do???”

[manofwettowels]

You're a binch, Tommy.

“HEY

FUCK OFF

IDIOT

UGH.

GOD.”

[manofwettowels]

How about you and Nick? What's going on there?

"I don't know what kind of answer you're fishing for here, but whatever it is, it's probably not that."

[manofwettowels]

“How did you get these bruises? Please don’t lie to me.” Off the streets AU

“Why, don’t you like em’? I thought they were kinda’ pretty.”

It was so very like him. To play something down like this. Acting normal, even lighthearted to decorate very serious problems with lighter sides that weren’t even there. He snickered, and ran his thumb across the swell of his eyelid. A black and blue flag. Patriotic to only himself.

“Bet you wouldn’t believe me if I told you I was part of an all exclusive fight club, would you?”

[saintvalli]

manofwettowels:

“Oh come on, you got friends. And you got -real- friends, which, hey, not everyone in this garbage pool can say.” But this was a little more serious than he was making it out to be, maybe. He slowed down a bit and ignored the feeling of dread as best as he could.

“You’re not taking over my life, kid, I…” He stopped for a moment. “Is this about me having a girlfriend? Come on, Frankie, you know it’s the guys first. Just putting a little miles on myself, maybe you should do the same! You know I’d never trash you for that. You know that, right?”

“Oh, friends huh?” Frankie let out a dark chuckle, “Yeah that’s a damn lie. What friends, Tommy? You? Nick? Nicky? Yeah that works well when two thirds are in fuckin’ jail.” He walked forward, ahead of his friend so he didn’t have to look at him, “ Just fuckin’ forget it okay. I will just pick up a vice. Who gives a shit?”

[manofwettowels]

"Hey, hey, hey." Tommy stopped now for good, under an angrily lit streetlight and took Frankie's wrist. For a long time he stayed there, unsure of how to solve this or really even how to approach solving it. "How you think Nicky would feel iffin he heard you say that, huh? Frankie, we don't-....God."

And so it was finally time for this chat.

"I want you to know that this life isn't easy," He said. "If you're looking to an answer for why you feel so empty all the time, you're gonna find the same answer we all did when we was your age, and that answer is nothing at all. Life screwed you, and it gave you the wrong cards, and i'm sorry. I really am. But you have to use those cards as best as you can because you know what? I didn't get any new ones, and neither will you. But I can show you how to use them." He paused to breathe.

"I give a shit."

[manofwettowels]

[i'm sorry but i had to do this; saintbxbby] Bob wakes Tommy up with a gentle shake of the shoulder, holding a Topo Gigio doll above his head. "Tommy?"

Tommy, in the shortest words, wakes up.

But words can’t paint an accurate picture of the anger that immediately castrates any chance of a civil conversation.

“Bob.” Tommy mutters. “You have two seconds.”

[saintbobby-deactivated20220219]

While the other man (boy, more like– he was almost nineteen & still playing pranks) normally would have stepped down at a threat, he only held the doll tighter.

No words came out of Bob’s mouth, but the unfamiliar mischievous glint in his eyes was enough to ensure Tommy that he wasn’t moving. Slowly, the corner of his mouth tugged up into a weak smirk, while moving the doll just an inch closer to the other’s eyes.

[manofwettowels]

Tommy took Bob’s wrist in his hand. Hard, but not forced. Soft, but not sweet. It was something they were familiar with. It would likely always stay that way. The smile that crept onto his face snuck away just as quickly as it was born.

Tommy squeezed. Narrowed his eyes.

“Two seconds.” He whispered.

[saintbobby-deactivated20220219]

Something similar to dread had slipped its way into Bob’s gaze once the elder gripped his wrist– in a surprising turn of events, however, it disappeared within seconds. Considering how much of an absolute prick Tommy could be, a little harmless revenge felt like something he could get away with.

That, and another night of no sleep (because songwriting was too important) provided him with no lasting comprehension of possible consequences. He was cogent enough to plan ahead, though. 

Going out and buying seventeen more Topo Gigio dolls was a stupid, unnecessary move, yes.. But would it be hilarious? Of course.

So, he ‘surrendered’, awkwardly tossing the doll to the floor because of the grip on his wrist. Pulling away, Bobby rolled his eyes. 

“Alright, alright, you can go back to sleep now.”

[manofwettowels]

"Good. Get that little rodent asshole out of here, I have no time for him in my life." Tommy groaned, rolling back underneath the covers for another year or so of hybernation until it was time to, once again, crawl out of bed and run away from his own shadow. There was never enough time for practice, or interviews or meetings, but there was always time for a lengthy hangover.

He kicked at Bob's leg as he passed by, always in the mood to be an asshole.

"And take topo gigio out of here, too." He snickered at his cruel joke and quickly cut it off to be sick and tired again.

[manofwettowels]

"Hello, mon cher.. May I buy you a drink?" { hi !!! this is saintbxbby btw, i'm using this account while i.. recover the login info for bobby's, haha }

“I don’t think that would make me too much of a gentleman, would it?” Tommy laughed, and it was hollow but not entirely fake. “No, I think you’d better let me buy you the drink, sweets.”

(hi lov!! good to hear from you again!

[yjhanuel-deactivated20200113]

Sniggering– in an attempt to suppress what she thought was an ugly laugh– Violet slid onto the bar stool beside the man. Heel-clad feet no longer touching the floor, she rolled her eyes a bit.

So much for being short.

“You may think so, but I’m not a traditional lady.. What are you drinking, Mr. DeVito?” The young woman asked, wagging a red-polished finger to get the attention of the bartender.

[manofwettowels]

“What is traditionalism, anyhow?” Tommy offered up a smirk, maybe thinking that in some world he was coming off as smooth or educated. Some world, but not this one. “If you’re out with it, then so am I. Just don’t expect me to be holding any doors open. Scotch and soda with a twist.”

And so the drink was delivered, and the eternally unwound Tommy DeVito began to unwind just a bit more.

“You know my name.” He said. “Wish I had a prize to offer you for that.”

[yjhanuel-deactivated20200113]

“Scotch, hm? Has that always been your drink of choice?” Violet seemed genuinely intrigued– surprising for someone who never cared enough about a man to even force a smile. Tommy, however, had been someone she’d heard about before. Everything from his origins in New Jersey, to his band’s arrest in Ohio. An interesting character, clearly.. At least, he was painted as such in the newspapers. She hadn’t made up her mind yet.

“La vie est trop courte pour boire du mauvais vin.. Life is too short to drink bad wine, hm?” Waving her finger a second time, the bartender hadn’t gotten the chance to step forward before she tacked on, “Chardonnay, please.”

While waiting for the glass to make its way towards her, Violet let her chin rest in the palm of her hand, eyelashes batting in his direction. 

“No need. My name’s Violet. Friends call me Vi.. Feel free to use it.”

[manofwettowels]

Tommy knew trouble when it spoke to him, or found it's way around dirty corners and into his life. The problem was that he never turned it away. The idea was that two wrongs were supposed to make a right. And he knew his wrongs from his rights, that was for sure. And the little french number in the dress, likelier than not, was a wrong. And so he dove into trouble like it had been calling him in secret for a long time. And it had, really.

"Not usually an anything man." He said. "Don't favor scotch, or vodka, or whatever. Just whatever comes to me at the time. Suppose you could say I'm the adventerous type."

He looked her up and down, not discreetly (that wasn't at all his style) and squeezed the lime over his drink. "What brings you to this dumpy neck of the woods? Can't imagine it would be the wine."

[delgad-o]

How do you sleep at night? (AhhH do with this what u will!)

Mary sighed softly, taking a drag on the cigarette they were passing back and forth before offering it to Tommy, the small cylinder resting in the vertex between her index and middle finger. 

“I don’t know, honestly.” She admitted softly, settling back onto her pillow, dark eyes studying the ceiling of her bedroom for a moment. “I think I just assume he’s doing the same thing on the road and I’m justified. He screws his groupies and I get…you.”

[manofwettowels]

“You get me.” He snorted softly. What a grand prize that was. For every step she took towards throwing her marriage into the garbage disposal, there he was, the dollar store consolation prize. He took the cigarette. It didn’t help.

“It gets easier.” He said. “Every time. To justify it, I guess. I sleep like a fucking baby. I can look him in the eye like nothing’s outta place.”

Looking her in the eye was a different thing.

[delgad-o]

Mary shot him a look, obviously not amused by his tone as she lightly nudged her knuckles against his cheek in disapproval. “Stop pitying yourself.” She warned before gesturing for him to hand the cigarette back. 

“I don’t know how you do it. I mean, it’s not like I’m new at this. We’ve been sneaking around since…God, it was the wedding reception, wasn’t it?” The redhead sighed, turning her head slightly so she could look at Tommy. “I just…every time, I feel a little guilty. I mean Jesus, he fathered my kids. He pays our bills. And here I am, fucking his best friend.”

[manofwettowels]

“Yeah, alright, I’m not an idiot, I know when it’s time to call a cab.” Tommy sat up in the bed, sheets sagging around his hips as he stole another puff at the cigarette that he had refused to hand over just yet. And he didn’t leave just yet, either. It was never as simple as getting the fill and leaving for the night. He sat there in a cold haze, tasting smoke and the past twenty five years. And then he opened his stupid mouth.

“There was a time before I was just your husband’s best friend, you know.” He said, feeling cold again. “Where I paid your fucking bills while he was still in grammar school or what have you.” He laughed, and it was hollow and soft. The cigarette found it’s way back to her. “You ever think that maybe I’m not the other man?”

[delgad-o]

“I never said I wanted you to leave, Tommy.” She replied softly, her expression softening considerably. The idea of being left alone again wasn’t exactly an appealing concept. When the boys were on the road, she spent most of her day in an empty house while the girls were at school. So, she wanted as much companionship as she could squeeze in before he left again in an attempt to hold her over until the next time the boys came home. 

God, this was so fucked up. Why couldn’t she just sleep with a person and that be that? But no. She had to go and get herself attached. And to Tommy Devito, no less.

Mary’s jaw was set, the muscles in her face tense as she stared at Tommy. “First of all, you never paid my bills. If anything, I did. But I’ll be generous and say we split. Second,” she paused to take a breath, easing herself up into a sitting position and holding the sheet to her chest, “you’re not my husband, so you’re the other man. I know we’ve got history and shit, but it doesn’t change the fact that he’s the one who I’m supposed to be dedicated to.” The redhead replied flatly, taking the cigarette back from him and letting it rest between her fingers. “Plus, he fathered more kids than you did.”

[manofwettowels]

"Oh, it's that kinda fuckin' contest now, isn't it?" He laughed. Not a real laugh, just breathing out a little more air than usual, as people often do when there isn't much to laugh about. "I still got time, you know. I could probably beat him in that department if I really tried."

It was just a nasty joke. And he knew that she knew that, but it certainly didn't justify the fact that it was in bad taste. Tommy himself still had two runts (three?) that he didn't pay enough attention to. And Frank still found the time to bring his girls gifts, and take them to the movies sometimes, tell them how pretty they were. He was a part time stand up guy. And Tom couldn't be that, not even part time. What was worse was that he couldn't even be bothered to feel guilty about it.

"Where is Frankie, anyhow? Should I be concerned on time?" He asked. "Cause I ain't playing around with hiding under the bed or some shit, I'm not a twenty year old greaseball anymore."

[manofwettowels]

[MSG:] I think the only option is to smoke so much weed I pass out for 3 days. { actually... that's me, tbh }

[text: vi] uuuh nick broke my dab rig SO if you’re providing then i’m all for it b[text: vi] that guy shouldn’t watch seinfeld when he’s drunk

((I feel u, all my life

[yjhanuel-deactivated20200113]

[text: that italian slut] Chrissake.. Fine, I’m providing. Just don’t break any of my shit and don’t hog it all.

[text: that italian slut] Mon dieu, quel idiot.

[manofwettowels]

[text: vi] bitch!! i dont know spanish the fuck!!!

[text: vi] i mean listen baby baby i can get u back like next week but as for now?? we’ll just have to see. i might hog it i might not. the THRILL is in not knowing whether or not i will

[yjhanuel-deactivated20200113]

[text: that italian slut] I.. Tommy, it’s French.

[text: that italian slut] You’ve known me for almost a year now, how do you not fucking remember I’m an immigrant?

[text: that italian slut] For you, the “THRILL” is going to be not knowing whether or not I’ll bash your head in for hogging it.

[manofwettowels]

[Text: vi] dude I'm p sure i'd forget my own name if i wasn't the most importsant bitch on this side of th world ok [Text: vi] hey listen ok thrill is thrill baby [Text: vi] if I'm not risking my head (and or nuts) on the daily is life rlly even worth it)

[fromanotherroom]

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