#and when he got there fuckin dave was posted up in his car like they were read to ransack this locker room and when my coworker asked why

[cruisinfdr]

[snarkwrites]

13 | gangsta ; sweetpea

NOTES:

It's been a while. I've had these two chapters written for a while now but I haven't had time to sit down, edit them a little better and post them. Since I have time now, I thought I'd go ahead and do that, whether you guys asked for these next two chapters or not.

Sorry this took forever! Sorry I'm so slow, I've been settling into a new house and taking care of some IRL stuff / taking a little break. I swear, I'm going to update everything sooner or later. >.>

I love you guys.

WARNINGS:

NON/ LOOSE CANON COMPLIANCE - this is the biggest warning, so if you’re into things that follow exact canon plot you are… definitely not going to like this. ANGST & SLOW BURN, HEAVY SEXUAL TENSIONSTARTING NOW, ACTUALLY - this is just so everyone who started reading this thinking the smut would transpire in a hurry knows that apparently, it is not. VIOLENCE / SWEARING & FIGHTING, POSSIBLE UNDERAGE DRINKING AND OTHER SHENANIGANS- look.. it’s high school. shit happens. also apparently, my ofc Alyssa uses the word fuck like all the time?…EVENTUAL SEXUAL CONTENT / A VIRGIN ORIGINAL CHARACTER- this one is self explanatory. yes, i plan to write a smutty chapter in this at some point. when? i don’t rightly know. it’s got a while before we get there. STALKER TW - this chapter marks the true appearance of Alyssa's ex, Dave Novak. It's hinted heavily that he's a gross asshole who likes to play mind games. ATTEMPTED KIDNAPPING TW - This chapter contains an attempted kidnapping. If this is gonna bother you you're best off not reading it.

If you're under 18+, probably not a good or wise idea to continue reading this series. Because there are going to be a few dark and adult themes within. I'll warn here, of course, but you need to understand that I don't control you. If you continue to read after having read the warnings and you're upset or don't like something... Totally on you, friend.

PAIRING:

Andrews!Sibling OFC x Sweet Pea.

TAGGING:

@brithedemonspawn is the only person on my Riverdale tag list. If you want to be added, the link to do so is below.

OTHER PARTS:

ONE - TWO - THREE - FOUR - FIVE - SIX - SEVEN - EIGHT - NINE - TEN- ELEVEN - TWELVE - soundtrack

OTHER STUFF:

[ about my writing - tag list doc ]

THIRTEEN.

[773 - 589 - 7956] Quiet sleepy little town you’ve got here. I can see the appeal, scarlet.

[773 - 589 - 7956] I saw you last night. If I didn’t know what a treacherous bitch you were, I’d say you look more beautiful than ever.

[773 - 589 - 7956] Have you shown that new boytoy of yours all the dirty little photos you were sending me? I bet he’d fucking love to see that… Or did you actually let him see the real thing?

[773 - 589 - 7956] You can say what you want to the cops, scarlet. You and I both know you enjoyed sending me those dirty little pictures. Do your parents know what a teasing whore their daughter really is? I know mommy wasn’t too thrilled when you went running to her to snitch just because things got a little too real for you…

[773 - 589 - 7956] I’ll see you soon. It’s like I said, scarlet. You owe me. I intend to collect. You think this is a game? You can just promise things and then betray me like that? That’s not how this works, scarlet.

The second my phone was powered on again after school, it immediately started to go insane. The texts came in a flood. They were so disgusting and scary that I dropped my phone because my hands were shaking so hard I couldn’t hold it. I quickly picked up the phone and took a few deep breaths, attempting to pull myself together.

,, I can’t keep this to myself. I have to tell someone what’s going on.” the thought nagged at me for the thousandth time in two weeks and I decided that as soon as I finished my tutoring session for the day, I was going to go to the construction site and show my father the texts. Tell him that somehow, Dave was out of prison and apparently, he was here in Riverdale.

My stomach was churning and a bitter taste filled my mouth at the thought. I felt like a dead girl walking. How could I have been so fucking stupid? I should’ve told my father the first time Dave texted me. I should’ve done something.

I felt anger at the situation too. I came here to get away from everything, to put it behind me. I just wanted to forget any of it happened. How dare he show up and ruin everything? He was supposed to be in jail right now, not walking free!

It wasn’t fair.

I knew I’d never be brave enough, but I found myself thinking that if I did see him again, I wanted to strangle him. To give him a reason to be afraid of me for once instead of the other way around. To get even for the hell he put me through in Chicago.

I stepped out into the parking lot, taking a few deep breaths to calm down. Leaning against the brick wall beside the doors that lead into the building. Waiting. Trying to pull myself together. Half hoping that my brother was still here, still in wrestling practice.

Then I remembered that he didn’t have it tonight and that he’d left earlier with Veronica, Betty and Jughead.

Cheryl and Toni were already gone too. I’d stayed over because I was tutoring some kids in the grade below me. I didn’t think it’d take as long as it did. When I realized just how late it had gotten and that I’d be walking home alone in the dark, I’d panicked.

I could always call my dad.

That’s what I wound up doing. About halfway across the parking lot and just as my father’s phone went to voicemail , Dave stepped out and grabbed me, clamping his hand over my mouth before I could do anything other than scream.

My phone fell out of my hands and hit the pavement . I fought him off, managed to get out of his grasp and took off at a run. He caught up to me and grabbed me, trying to drag me towards his Chevelle that was parked nearby, idling. I fought tooth and nail, making as much noise as I could. Grabbing hold of anything I could to try and wrench myself free from his grasp.

I spotted Sweet Pea walking towards the school and I screamed louder. Fought harder.

“Sweet Pea!” I screamed his name, biting at any exposed skin I could get my mouth on Dave’s body. Clawing and scratching. Determined not to go quietly or without a fight. Sweet Pea disappeared from sight for a few seconds in the scuffle between Dave and I, and I was fighting so hard that Dave was struggling to keep a good firm grip on me…

XXX

He’d come back to school because normally, Alyssa was done and at Pop’s within thirty minutes, an hour tops. It had almost been two. Something felt off. Sweet Pea tried to tell himself the entire walk across town to Riverdale High that he was just being paranoid or overprotective. By the time the school was in view, he almost had himself convinced that he was just being a paranoid idiot.

Until he heard her screaming.

Sweet Pea took off at a run in the direction her scream came from, watching as a guy grabbed Alyssa and started trying to pull her towards an idling Chevelle nearby. He locked eyes with Alyssa before slipping out of sight. Getting himself into a position where he could slip up on the guy from behind and hopefully, distract him enough that Alyssa could get away.

The second she managed to smash her head into the guy’s nose hard enough that he dropped her, Sweet Pea spoke up. Firmly. “Run, Cherry. Don’t stop running.”

“No.” I stubbornly refused to leave. I wasn’t going to leave him to fight Dave off on his own. Not when this was my mess to begin with, my own stupidity coming back to bite me in my ass.

“Damn it, woman. Fucking go!” Sweet Pea practically growled as he lunged for the guy in front of him, spearing him against the side of his own car. The fight took to the ground, the two rolling around. For a second or two, Dave had the upper hand because he managed to get his hand on Sweet Pea’s throat. Sweet Pea used his legs, flipping them so that he was on top, swinging his fists with no real thought other than the sheer rage he felt about the guy trying to grab Alyssa. Dave managed to get the upper hand again, holding Sweet Pea against the concrete, Sweet Pea’s hand wrapped around his throat as he tried to squeeze harder.

Sweet Pea swore in frustration when he saw Alyssa slipping over to the open rear door. She emerged with a baseball bat, making her way over to the fight.

“What the fuck do you think you were gonna do, man?” Sweet Pea snarled in anger as he got in a few hard and fast punches.

“I was gonna get my hands on that little bitch you call a girlfriend and teach her a lesson.” Dave grunted out the words as Sweet Pea’s hand closed around his throat tighter and he managed to get Dave on his back again.

“The only one who’s going to learn a lesson tonight is you, asshole. Don’t fucking touch her.” Sweet Pea got the upper hand again, holding Dave against the concrete, smashing his head against Dave’s head as he sneered, “I’m gonna fuckin kill you, putting your hands on my girl.” and really tightened his grip.

Dave managed to shove him off and stood, the two of them fighting. Alyssa swung the bat at Dave’s lower back, almost connecting with it but Dave stepped out of the way at the last minute, making a grab for her.

“Cherry, I told you to run, damn it!” Sweet Pea growled as he lunged at Dave, sending Alyssa stumbling back, barely managing to keep herself from falling on her butt on the pavement. The two were rolling around on the ground again, punching and choking wildly and Alyssa spotted her cell phone and she dove for it, dialing 911.

Just as she was about to hit call, Sweet Pea choked Dave out and grabbed for the rope that had fallen out of Dave’s jacket pocket, tying his arms together while he was down. Then he rushed over to her, checking her over in concern, wincing at the pavement burn on her cheeks and the few scrapes.

“What the fuck happened to run, huh?” Sweet Pea asked, trying to catch his breath.

“I wasn’t leaving you here with him.” Alyssa panted. Sweet Pea took her cell phone and hit call, keeping his foot on Dave’s head to keep him down as he made the call.

Two minutes later, a cop car came racing around the corner and pulled to a stop behind the idling Chevelle.

The cop got out and wandered over. Glancing from Sweet Pea to Dave.

Alyssa spoke up.

“Sweet Pea was trying to save me, officer.”

“I’m going to need you two to come to the station and make statements.” the cop informed them after getting Dave into the back of the cop car. Alyssa nodded, hugging herself against Sweet Pea’s side. Sweet Pea slipped out of his leather jacket,draping it around her, because at some point during her fight with Dave, her shirt had gotten torn down the front.

The cop left, leaving the two of them alone.

Sweet Pea took a few deep breaths, pulling her against him. Squeezing her tight. Holding her in place. “Thank God I decided to come by here. If something would’ve happened…” he muttered against her hair quietly.

She pulled away to look up at him and he locked eyes with her, leaning in closer…

XXX

My heart was still hammering away at my chest. The adrenaline was starting to wear off and I was starting to panic a little as I began to realize what almost happened to me. How close I came to disappearing, having God knows what would be done to me by Dave.

I wasn’t thinking about how awkward me kissing him would be. I wasn’t thinking about anything if you want the truth. I rose up on my toes, grabbing hold of the front of Sweet Pea’s t-shirt, pulling myself up. My mouth brushed against the corner of his gingerly, trying to avoid the portion of his lower lip that was busted and bloody because it had to hurt like hell. His hands dug into my hips and he growled quietly, his mouth latching onto mine just as I went to pull away, stop myself before I went for it and kissed him in the heat of the moment.

The kiss deepened and I raised my arms, wrapping them around his neck. Dragging my fingers through his hair. My back met the side of the Chevelle with a soft smack and he pressed himself into me more firmly. His mouth continuing to hungrily devour mine.

The kiss broke a few seconds later, we pulled apart breathlessly and stared at one another in a daze. Sweet Pea wiped the back of his hand over his mouth and cleared his throat. Going quiet again.

All I could do was melt into him and try to wrap my head around what almost happened and what had just actually happened. He curled his fingers under my chin, tilting my face so that I had to look up at him.

“Who was that? Wait.. was that your ex?”

My jaw dropped. I blinked at him and then I nodded quietly. He swore under his breath and held on a little tighter. Pulling away again, his hands on my upper arms as he stared down at me. “I should’ve fucking killed him.”

“H-how’d you know about Dave? Did my brother tell you?”

“And Jughead. I don’t know everything. I just know that I told myself if I ever actually saw the asshole, I was going to kill him.” Sweet Pea answered quietly. Taking a few deep breaths and then adding a few seconds later, “We need to get to the station.”

I nodded in agreement. Sweet Pea scooped me up when he saw me take a step and wince, then try it again with the same outcome.

“I can walk.” I protested weakly.

“You fell. You probably twisted your ankle. Just… let me carry you, Cherry.” he muttered quietly, his voice a soft and concerned whisper as he gazed down at me.

All I could do was nod. Lean my head against the space between his neck and shoulder.

As we worked our way towards the police station, it poured out of me. Every single thing I’d gone through with Dave in Chicago. I grimaced as I told Sweet Pea exactly what had gone down and why I thought Dave had come to town and tried to grab me tonight and Sweet Pea’s jaw set firm.

I could tell that hearing it bothered him. And at one point, he muttered quietly, “If you don’t want to talk about it you don’t have to…”

“No, I need to get it out. I shouldn’t have kept the fact that the asshole was texting me to myself. Blocking his number obviously didn’t work because he reached out with a new one. I thought if I just ignored him, he’d lose interest. I thought it was just him, trying to scare me. I didn’t think he’d be stupid or brave enough to show up here.” I muttered, shaking my head at how stupid that sounded now that I was really stopping to think about it.

“He’s not gonna bother you again, okay? I’m going to make sure he doesn’t.” Sweet Pea muttered after a few seconds, just as we stepped into the station and made our way over to a sitting area to wait.

“You need to call your dad.” Sweet Pea spoke up after a few seconds that felt like hours.

I nodded. Taking my phone back from Sweet Pea, I dialed my dad’s number and I could hear the relief in his voice when he answered.

Static crackled and popped on his end of the line so I strained to hear.

“I’ve been riding around town looking for you for over an hour, tiny. What the hell happened?” my dad asked in a rush.

“Dave was waiting outside of the school tonight when I came out… If Sweet Pea hadn’t gotten there when he did I… he tried to grab me tonight, Dad.” I grimaced as I said it, bracing myself for all the questions and the lecture I knew I’d be getting because I hadn’t told anyone the second all this started.

,, to be fair, I definitely deserve it.” the thought came and I let myself have it. Leaning back in the chair, resting against Sweet Pea’s side slightly. Taking a few deep breaths.

My dad swore and I heard him punching at something, probably the dashboard of his truck. After a second or two, he spoke up. “Where are you two? I’m on my way, tiny. Right now.”

“We’re at the station giving a statement.” I explained.

“Thank god. So Novak got arrested? That’s good. I’m going to be sure to find out what I can do to make sure that little prick stays in a cell this time.” my dad responded as I heard him rev the engine on his truck.

The call ended and I leaned my head against Sweet Pea’s shoulder. He slipped an arm around me and took a few more breaths as if he were trying to calm himself down again because he was still angry and tense.

The cop who made the arrest found us and ushered us back to his workspace and we sat down. Telling the cop every single detail of what happened tonight. The cop let me finish and then spoke up.

“We’re holding him for Chicago. He apparently escaped. Attacked another girl… A Claire Watson… Then he came here. But everything you’ve told me will help keep him behind bars, Alyssa. Do you have a parent you can call?”

I nodded.

“She already called him.” Sweet Pea answered calmly as he folded his arms over his chest and glared at the cop suspiciously.

The cop eyed him, nodding. Managing a cordial smile. “That was quick thinking on your part tonight kid. Also stupid as hell. If he’d had a weapon, that could’ve gone wrong. Next time, call the station.”

“And do what? Let an asshole make off with my girl? Yeah, no thanks. I’m good. I’ve seen how fast you assholes respond to any call you get from the South side.”

“Not all of us are bad, kid.” the cop pointed out in a calm and even tone.

“Yeah, well… I wasn’t going to stand there and let him take my girl either. I did what I had to do.” Sweet Pea took a deep breath, rubbing his forehead. Calming himself back down.

I spotted my father and Archie coming into the station, heading right for us and I let out a ragged breath. Squeezing my dad so tight he almost couldn’t breathe when they got over to where we were sitting in the back.

My father spoke up, addressing the cop. “We will be pressing charges. So, whatever I need in order to do that, just tell me and you’ve got it.”

Sweet Pea cleared his throat.

“If it helps, here’s her phone.” Sweet Pea held my phone out to the policeman and he took it, nodding. “If there’s anything on here, that’ll help. If you’ll come with me, Mr. Andrews, we’ll get that paperwork drawn up to start the proceedings.”

My dad gave me another hug and stopped in front of Sweet Pea. “If you hadn’t been there tonight, kid… Thank you.”

“I wasn’t gonna let anything happen to her, sir.” Sweet Pea muttered, awkwardly letting my dad hug him too.

My dad made his way to an office with the policeman who’d taken our statements and I glanced up at Sweet Pea, grimacing at the bruises and scraped starting to form on his face and neck. The black eye and the busted lip.

“Archie, can you go get some ice or a soda can? His lips really swelling up..” I muttered. My brother nodded, taking some change from me to go do it. And this left Sweet Pea and I alone again.

“About that kiss.. I’m sorry, I.. the last thing I wanted to do was make anything awkward. I just got caught up in the moment and I can’t keep fighting the way I feel and I… Sorry.” I spoke up quietly. Prepared to give him an out. Afraid that I’d gone way over the line.

“Yeah, about that… I’ve been wanting to do it for a while.” Sweet Pea admitted quietly. Making me look up at him as he chuckled quietly. “You wanna repeat any of what you just said?”

I felt my cheeks burning. I pouted up at him and gave him a dirty look.

He smirked in response and spoke up. “I’m being serious. You were doing that mumble and babbling thing again.”

“You heard me.” I answered, biting my lip as I looked up at him.

“A little, yeah… But maybe I wanna hear it again, cherry.” he pulled me close and gazed down at me for a few seconds.

“Wait.. you wanted to kiss me?” I realized what he’d admitted. Gazing up at him, a little shocked.

“You’re trying to change the subject now?” he questioned, slipping his arms around me. I gave a soft laugh and muttered quietly, “Maybe a little.”

“When you say you can’t ignore the way you feel.. What’s that mean?” he questioned again, making me look up at him. I took a deep breath and toyed with the front of his shirt, trying to figure out the best way to put it to words.

The truth. Simple and direct.

“I care about you a lot. I lo--” I started to say that I loved him, but Archie cleared his throat behind us, holding out the soda can to me. Then promptly excusing himself again to go find our dad. I gently guided Sweet Pea down into a chair and sank down to sit on his knees. Gingerly pressing the cold soda can against his lip. And after a second or two, I finally got myself to say it again. “I love you, okay?”

He chuckled quietly. Locking eyes with me. Lowering the soda can to ask quietly, “Like a best friend or something.. Right?”

I shook my head. “More than, actually. Since that day at the car wash when I drenched you with the hose, I’ve… It’s been hard to make myself not look for you in a crowd. Yes, yes.. I know this is mushy and you don’t do mushy, I..” his mouth crashing against mine cut off the flow of my words and he muttered in a daze, “Say it again. Tell me you love me, Cherry.”

“I love you.” I managed to get the words out breathlessly. His mouth was latching onto mine all over again. The kiss deepening. His arms enveloping me tighter. Squeezing til I thought I’d get lightheaded between the deep and heavy onslaught of kisses and the way he was holding me.

“I love you too.” he mumbled quietly. Gazing down at me. Panting for his next breath as the kiss broke yet again.

“Okay, are you two done with whatever yet? Because dad told me to get Al back home. You can come with us if you want.” Archie surprised me by inviting Sweet Pea. Sweet Pea eyed him and nodded, standing after I’d finally managed to pry myself away from him.

As we walked out of the station, he slipped his hand down between us, lacing his fingers between mine. Giving my hand a squeeze as he glanced down at me.

[themockingcrows]

Companionship Through Circuitry Ch 7: Data

Bro/Hal THIS CHAPTER IS NOT SFW cw: voyeurism, masturbation

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20942408/chapters/65171512

With a letter received, Bro's long standing questions about Dave finally get an answer, though it may not be the one he hoped for. And when the wasteland is quiet, and an AI is murmuring sweet nothings in your ear, what's a guy to do but respond...?

     It was a solid week before Bro left that ramshackle town in the dust, debt repaid as he could get it, and blood spattered boots pointed North. On the off chance that he had mail, he checked in with the next town not far away, and poked his head into the courier station.

     “Anything for Strider?”

     “Strider?” said a short, gruff looking man as he sized up the long, lean figure ahead of him in the strange sunglasses. ...Eh. He’d seen odder things out here, surely. “Let me check.” A perfunctory glance at the post boxes, and he was heading around the corner to the mail bag, rummaging for bundles.

     Bro tapped his fingers on the countertop idly. He didn’t expect anything, really, but it made it easier to pass the uncertainty by at least checking. Anyway, on the off chance he had something, he wasn’t sure what he’d do with it anyway.

     “Ah, yes, we’ve got something for a Strider. Ambrose?”

     Bro felt his stomach tighten into a steel knot as he saw the thick envelope in the man’s hands, stamped URGENT in bright red letters, and addressed in Dave’s familiar handwriting. He felt light headed, and it took Hal’s eyes flickering in front of his own to make him focus again.

     “Er, yes, that’s me. Sorry, was miles away there for a second. I didn’t… I didn’t think anything’d actually be here,” he said, not reaching for the envelope.

     “Well, whatever it is, it’s here,” the man said, setting it down on the countertop for him to take. Ambrose stared at it as if it were a bomb before reaching for it, and tucking it into his shirt. 

     “Thank you kindly,” he said. For once, he didn’t have a letter to send at this station, having written his peace while healing before. He walked across the small town as if in a daze, taking in the sights and smells both pleasant and unpleasant till he found a run down building with a shop out front selling different locally grown items as well as procured items. Bro could smell the tobacco before he could see the cigarettes, and was already feeling around for caps to secure a few.

     Why are you shopping instead of reading your letter?

     “I’ll get to it,” Bro said, tucking most of the cigarettes away after bumming a light off the shopkeeper. It tasted musty, unpleasant, but it was better than nothing. Not enough, but better than nothing.

     You’ve waited this long for a reply and you’re going to put it off? Hal asked, astounded. Aren’t you the least bit curious?

     “I’m sober, I’m sore, I’m tired, I’m kinda hungry and my balls itch. Curiosity can wait its turn,” he muttered around his cigarette, more agitated than he could write off with simple annoyance at being pestered.

     Truth was, he was terrified of the envelope that was burning a brand against his abdomen, stiff edged and fat with pages. Scared of every inch of paper that lay within. Scared of the still slightly uncertain way Dave wrote his name down compared to his own, as if it were foreign. He smoked till the heat of the smoldering end got too close to his lips, then flicked the entire thing down to the ground and rubbed it out beneath his heel. The last thing anyone needed out here was a fucking fire.

     If you’re putting off reading your letter because you’re needing a drink, I’d recommend having the drink so we can read.

     “Excuse me, did you just say ‘we’?”

     Are you going to remove me when you read your letter? I’m aware already of what your situation is, more or less. I would like to know what he has to say, this Dave of yours.

     Ambrose hesitated slightly, and sighed an exhale out through his nose. 

     “When I read it, I’ll leave you on. But keep your goddamn comments to yourself, you hear me? I don’t want an audio chorus goin’ on while I’m tryin’ to do everything.”

     Consider my lips sealed. Hal was quiet for a moment before he probed once more, Are you excited about being closer to the goal?

     Ambrose blinked. “How close are we?”

     Another few days if we do a quick clip. A week if we go slow. Longer if we keep making stops.

     “What about my current pace,” Ambrose asked, knowing he wasn’t as quick as he was pre-injury yet. That would take time. Healing always took time, the bastard. 

     Your current pace is just fine.

     “Besides, should I be askin’ you that question?”

     What question.

     “If you’re excited. I mean, it’s your body we’re headin’ to right?”

     If it is still in one piece, still in place, then yes. I’m quite excited.

     “What’s the first thing you wanna do once you’re in a body?” Ambrose asked, glad to have the conversation change direction from the letter that still pressed against his stomach like a threat. 

     Slap you as hard as I fucking can, for various sundry reasons.

     “Okay, dumb question. What’s the second thing you wanna do once you’re in a body.”

     It would ruin the fun if I told you everything ahead of time, Hal said coyly. Wouldn’t you just like to know?

     “What’s your body gonna look like, anyway? Gonna be all jacked, bigger than me? Big as a mutant? Lift cars over your fuckin’ head?”

     Most likely my body will look like a normal humanoid. The specifics are uncertain to me, I’ve never been inside of it to my knowledge.

     “...If it sucks, there’s always the Furb-”

     I hate that thing, and I hate you.

     Bro smirked. “C’mon. It’s useful and you know it.”

     I’m aware of what you’re doing now. There’s no fooling me. Open your letter, Ambrose. 

     The smirk died on his lips, and he ran a hand through his hand, fingers scritching at his scalp, dislodging little bits of dust that clung to the tips from walking the road. He patted his shirt, felt the outline of the envelope… and instead of pulling it out, turned and walked out of town, due North.

     What are you doing?

     “Travelin’, what does it look like?” he asked. “Wanna make good time, so you can go ahead and slap me.”

     Do you mean to put off reading your letter till I can physically force you to open it?

     “Nah, I ain’t gonna wait that long. I just don’t think I could sit still any longer. I’ll read it tonight, once I’m settled down.”

     ...It’s not a bomb, you know. It’s just a letter. 

     Ambrose rolled his eyes as he walked. “I know. Like I said, I’ll read it tonight.”

     Yet, that night came, and he didn’t read it. Nor did he read it in the morning as he ate a cold can of beans, nor as night fell the second night. Instead it remained in his shirt, beneath his folded hands as Ambrose rested by the fire, preparing to go to sleep with Hal perched on his face. It took four days before he finally took it out of his shirt by the firelight and carefully opened it with his pinky finger, ripping the paper as cleanly as possible.

     He unfolded the paper and clenched his eyes shut instinctively, unprepared to read what it said.

     ...It’s okay, Hal said. Open your eyes and read, Bro.

     “I am, gimme a second. Eyes were dry,” he muttered, blinking exaggeratedly a few more times before glancing over the paper, rubbing the side of his head as he did so. ...Hal was right. It was okay.

     While not filled to the brim with excitement at hearing from him, and not dripping with praise or familial love, there was a pleasant rapport contained within. As well as an apology for not writing sooner. Apparently he’d secured a second job where he lived and was saving caps. It was rough work, but he wasn’t just another body there. He had responsibilities, long shifts, and then long periods of having fun and exploring the new neck of the woods he lived in.

     Bro was swept into Dave’s world with not just words, but pictures. Within the envelope had been shoved several carefully done drawings, some highly detailed and some cartoony and shittily drawn with his other hand to get the point across and throw a gag or three in. They earned a chuckle, and a smirk. Kid was improving. The last page of the letter said he would be checking for mail like usual, and would be trying to write ahead of the curve as Bro predicted, judging by his path.

     ...And that was that. No condemnation, but no forgiveness either. No comments on his near death. No questions in return. Bro scanned the pages twice more before setting them down and patting the ground with his fingertips.

     Was it not what you were hoping for? It seemed pleasant to me, Hal said. Your spawn is talented.

     “Mm. Yeah, he is.”

     You didn’t answer the question.

     “I guess I just.. Expected more,” Bro admitted. “I didn’t think I’d get a reply, now I’ve got one. And he didn’t address any of the shit I brought up. Does that mean he’s still pissed at me?”

     People don’t tend to spend money and time and effort mailing people they hate, pointed out Hal. I believe your assumptions are incorrect. An option is that he is still processing everything you said, but didn’t want to remain silent.

     The iron knot in Bro’s stomach finally, blessedly, began to unwind its barbs from within him in relief. That was a theory that was believable. Maybe it was just him being overly hopeful, but he needed that hope right now.

     “Maybe.”

     If things were as bad as they seemed, as well, this could be a way of building a relationship with you.

     “Are you programmed to be part therapist? The fuck, a guy gets one letter and suddenly it’s time to play psychologist,” Bro murmured, grunting as he rolled towards his bag and rummaged for paper and pen.

     Writing back already?

     “Yeah. Gonna keep it up, if it’s not gettin’ on his nerves. Won’t write this one as urgent, though. Give it time to get there. After all, should be pickin’ up at the next station after gettin’ your body and heading back.”

     Back?

     “Yeah. Back home.”

     With you?

     “Who else? Got big plans once you get your body aside from knockin’ me into next Tuesday?” Bro asked, pen flicking across the paper as he began to write.

     Hal didn’t respond right away. Instead he watched Bro write for a few minutes before speaking again. Are you asking me to go home with you?

     “...Well. Yeah, I guess. If you wanna be formal about it.”

     Why.

     Of course he wanted reasons. Bro wet his lips briefly.

     “...Becauses I think travelin’ with you is alright, and I imagine it’d be more fun once you’re not sittin’ on my face,” Bro said, slowing his writing to a pause before doodling in the margin, aimless shapes as he thought. “Because I think I’d actually miss you, if you took off once we got that far, after all this shit we’ve already been through.”

     You like me, Hal stated rather than asked.

     “...Yeah. I like you.”

     You wish for me to remain with you.

     “Yeah.”

     ...Once I get my body, would you touch it?

     Ambrose blinked. “...Uh. Maybe.” So he knew about that kind of shit, did he? Made sense, to a point.

     Why not yes?

     “It’d depend on what you wanted,” he admitted awkwardly. Was he being propositioned by an AI? That was a new one. “Rule number one of havin’ bodies: you don’t go touchin’ ones that don’t belong to you without permission.”

     Would I have permission to touch you?

     He had to think for a moment. Would he be down for that? With a bot? It’d be weird, considering he didn’t know what kind of body they were going to be working with, but he supposed there was always a possibility for adjustments and customization as needed moving forward. Surely the body hadn’t been designed with that kind of functionality in mind, but…

     “Yeah,” he decided. “You’ve got permission to touch me.”

     Hal’s eyes flickered into his field of vision again, blinking slowly a few times before fading out. 

     I’m not certain how to touch you, when the time comes. I require data.

     “You propositionin’ me?” Bro asked with a slowly spreading smirk.

     I would prefer to know what to do when I’m able to do so properly, Hal explained. Then, again, I require data.

     “And if I give you data tonight?” Bro asked, pushing his letter away and rolling to his back. “What’s in it for me?”

     A better time when I have my body, since I’ll be able to touch you myself. 

     “You never said if I’d be able to touch you back,” Bro pointed out, reaching down to undo his belt buckle. “And mind keepin’ an eye out while we handle this?”

     You will be safe, promised Hal. ...And you have permission to touch me.

     “Two dudes touchin’ each other. Sounds gay,” hummed Bro as he flicked his pants open enough to slide a hand in, giving himself a feel and a gentle squeeze to start warming up. “So what kind of data you want, specifically?”

     I want to know how best to touch you, Hal explained. The data I require would be how you enjoy being touched.

     “Wanna be the best at touchin’ be, huh?”

     You could say that.

     Bro moved his hand steadily a few times till he was settled at half mast, then shimmied his pants a little lower, freeing himself to the cool night air. He glanced down, and was amused to see Hal’s eyes flicker into view again, this time not fading away.

     “Gimme a second, it’s not quite there.”

     It’s already pleasant to look at.

     “Remind me to teach you some dirty talk, dicks aren’t pleasant to look at,” snorted Bro, continuing to work his fist till he shivered and finally rested at full size against his own palm. “There we go..,”

     I take it you’re giving me the data already?

     “Yep. Take notes. Slow to warm up, but once the motor purrs it’ll go all night,” Bro hummed, closing his eyes. He’d done this thousands of times in his life, but rarely with an audience, and certainly not one in recent memory. Fuck it’d been a while.  He remembered to keep his chin down so he’d be in view of the shades properly, letting Hal look to his heart’s content as Bro’s fingers played over his length familiarly.

     Tell me what you would do to me, once you’re able to touch me, Hal said softly, voice a purr from the shades. Bro smirked a bit, enjoying the sound as he closed his fingers into a fist and began to slowly pump himself. Though he was still a little uncertain of the specifics, it was easy to think of how he’d behave with a human partner. Might as well just proceed that way mentally, and figure out what was different when the real thing was on display.

     “Well. Let’s see… Prolly warm you up with a bit of kissin’ first, some hands on explorin’ to see what you had to work with. Then I’d run my hands along your body, make sure you felt every inch of me on your skin,” Bro said with a relaxed sigh. Fuck, this was something he’d needed for a while it seemed. A bit of tlc and privacy. ...Well. somewhat privacy.

     And if I were beneath you?

     “Want me to pin you down, huh?” he asked, fist moving a bit quicker as his mind played out the scenario. “Well. Prolly already warmed you up so you’d be ready for me, by then. Work you open nice and easy till you’re beggin’ for it, bite your neck while I slide on in. Get those thighs nice and far apart for me. Keep on goin’ till I’m good’n deep.”

     There was no clarification on Hal’s part about how that might not work, about how he might not be compatible. Instead, there was a soft beeping coming from the shades, like a pulse monitor going off, faster than his own heartbeat.

     And if I were begging for it, by then?

     “I’d let you have it. Mostly,” Bro said, working his fist a bit faster, but not going all the way down. Instead he fisted the top of his length and went about halfway down, squeezing more towards the middle before working back towards the tip. “Probably work you over with about half of what you got a taste of, before goin’ any further. Make you really lose it before hammering ya.”

     The pulse beeping sped up again, a constant pace in Bro’s ear, and he adjusted his own hand to go along with it, hissing softly under his breath as he started to work his whole length again.

     And if it were me touching you, like you’re touching yourself right now? If it were my hand instead of yours? Would you find that pleasant?

     “Long as it was warm,” Ambrose chuckled breathlessly, unable to help himself but go quicker. It’d been too long, it felt too nice, and with his imagination running wild there was too much fuel feeding the fire. “You’d need a firm grip, I like that most. More towards the middle than the tip. And nice even strokes…”

     I think I preferred to imagine you inside of me, to the touching, Hal said suddenly, the firm pulse beeping seeming to mimic Bro’s pulse now that he was letting himself have what he wanted. You said before the engine could last all night. Would it do the same with me if I wanted it?

     “Till you were walkin’ funny the next day,” Bro promised, gritting his teeth slightly. It felt too good, it was warm, the voice in his ear was still a purr and his imagination was filling in all kinds of gaps. He just hoped the real deal wasn’t a letdown compared to his lofty imagination.

     Come for me, Ambrose.

     That did it. Bro let out a soft sound and tensed, shielding the tip of his dick with his opposite hand to catch the mess for easier cleanup. The pulse sound slowly settled in his ear before disappearing entirely, leaving him with the sounds of the wasteland in his ear instead. He opened his eyes finally and saw Hal’s blinking at him before they flickered out of sight, leaving him with the night view from behind the shades as usual.

     He exhaled another sigh and sat up to clean up.

     “I think I needed that. Been feelin’ pent up for a while,” admitted Bro.

     Would you enjoy doing that with me more often?

     “Yeah. Yeah, I’d like doin’ that with you, it was nice.” Bro felt, briefly, like he was finishing a date up. There was no second cleanup, but it did make him wonder… “Is there anything I can do while you’re like this to make you feel nice?”

     Feeling doesn’t really occur in this state. The closest would be electricity, and that could be dangerous for my stability.

     “No electrostim then, got it,” he chuckled. Bro took a glance towards his letter once he was cleaned and tucked away, and shook his head, tucking it back into his bag. He’d work on it tomorrow, the mood was definitely not there right now. Not after that. “But there’s nothin’ you’d like, nothin’ I can do?”

     Just speaking with me is good. I’ve recorded data fo-

     “Recorded? You just mean data-wise, right? Not actual recording, right?”

     Ask me no questions and I will tell you no lies. 

     He guessed it was fine, if Hal recorded him jerking off. Not like there was anyone to share it with, and even if there was, he’d be able to write it off as being narcissistic to a point. Record himself to use for getting off later. ...Okay, now the idea was intriguing to him. He’d have to see if Hal would allow him to see video files sometime…

     I’ve recorded data for the future, when I have my body. I would like to use that data once I’m accustomed to the controls.

     “You propositionin’ me again? Want a hot date once you’ve got your own bod?”

     Yes! I want to experience what I’ve learned first hand, and see if all of your talk is as good as it sounds. 

     “I can promise I’m not just talk. I can’t promise I’ll be able to do all that to you right away,” Bro warned. “But we’ll see what we’re workin’ with soon enough, I suppose.”

     If I lack genitalia will you make me some?

     Bro was quiet for a minute, just sitting there, trying to think of what in the world he’d gotten himself into. “You want me to make you a dick if you don’t have one.”

     Yes. I want to use what I’ve learned, and that is what I’ve learned with.

     He reached up to rub his eyes beneath the shades, just holding his face for a moment before sighing. In for a penny, in for a pound.

     “Right. Uh.. sure. I’ll try to figure out how to do that, if you’re needin’ something. We’ll figure it out.”

     I can’t imagine my body is a tin can, Dirk was working with advanced technology. Surely this will work.

     “Where there’s a will, there’s a way. You’re lucky I ain’t got nothin’ against bots.”

     Robosexual.

     “...Sure.”

     They sat in an easy silence for a while, the fire flickering and Bro watching out over the wastes. He felt more relaxed than he had in ages, despite part of his mind now focusing on how to built a robotic dick that had some kind of feedback function. There had to be some kind of research with bots, with ‘droids, that had that kind of functionality. Hell, might even turn into a side business: sex modifications for droids and bots.

     That’d make for a hell of a letter to Dave. Actually, so was telling him in general about Hal coming home with him. He could hear the teasing already.

     “Hey. Hal.”

     Yes.

     “Do you want me to tell Dave about you comin’ home with me?”

     Of course.

     “Or would you rather write him yourself, once you have your body.”

     Hal was quiet for a moment. You would entrust me to write to your spawn?

     “Yeah. If you stop calling him my spawn. I think he’d like to get to know you, once you’re not just sittin’ on my face, and I don’t think I can easily mod to Furby to hold a pen.”

     If you even tried, I’d zap you immediately.

     “See, can’t even if I wanted to,” Bro said, lifting his hands upwards and shaking his head, giving a shrug. “My hands are tied by the system.”

     Bro.

     “Yeah?”

     ...I’m actually quite excited, to get my body. Not just for the reasons we discussed so far tonight. I’ll finally be able to see what Dirk left for me.

     “...If it’s not there, we’ll figure somethin’ out,” Bro promised. “And if it’s damaged, I’ll do my best to figure out how to fix it.”

     I’ll be able to run diagnostic scans once I’m able to connect, I should be able to tell you how to fix things, or even fix them myself. But Bro, I wanted to ask a favor.

     “Yeah? What, aside from beatin’ my meat, do you want me to do for you?”

     I would like to find other vaults, before we return to your home.

     “Vault huntin’, huh? What for?”

     I need to find other instances of Dirk’s work.

     “You got it. We’ll hunt down whatever scraps of him and his work you need.”

     It felt easier to promise than Bro assumed it would. It felt genuinely good.

[sippin-on-red-wine]

No. 6 Collaborations Project: A review!

It’s been a week since this fabulous album has dropped into our hands. Click “Keep reading to hear my thoughts on each track!

Track 1. Beautiful People Khalid ★★★★ Favorite Lyric: You look stunning dear/So don’t ask that question here

Thoughts/Reflection: Ed keeps referring to this song as ‘cozy’ and I completely agree. The vibe is cool. I love the tone of his voice here and I think it meshes really nicely with Khalid’s. The content isn’t super relatable, but I think we can all take something away from this one. It’s a good note on self-awareness and being able to see the reality in things that may look glamorous on the surface. 

-

Track 2. South of the Border feat. Camila Cabello, Cardi B ★★★★★ Favorite Lyric: So join me in this bed that I’m in/Push up on me and sweat darlin’/So I’m gonna put my time in/Won’t stop until the angels sing

Thoughts/Reflection: This track is literally freaking scorching hot fire. TBH I’m surprised that they led the album with IDC and not this one. It feels like big radio potential to me. Regardless, this song is an absolute BOP - so catchy and so fucking sexy. 

I know Ed’s Spanish leaves something to be desired ☺ But I feel like we can cut him some slack after singing (yet another) song dedicated to going down on a woman. The ginger is forgiven! Five stars for him! And I’m going to have SOTB on repeat all summer (or for the rest of my life).

Oh, I also really like Cardi on this song. IDK if she’s problematic or w/e, I don’t really follow her in the media at all. But her verse is fun. (I think Ed got a lil jungle fever AY) bahahahah

-

Track 3. Cross Me feat. Chance the Rapper, PnB Rock ★★★★★ Favorite Lyric: Know she gonna slide anytime you bitches talk shit/Keep a lil blade in her fuckin’ lip gloss kit 

Thoughts/Reflection: Love love love LOVE this one. It just makes you want to get up and DANCE the damn thing! I have to laugh a little at the thought of Ed being hard & tough, lol, but it’s a cool concept nonetheless. Like he said in his Charlemagne interview, it’s kind of a love song…. but a different tempo. It’s catchy as all hell and Chance’s verse is fucking cool. 

Full points. 

-

Track 4. Take Me Back to London feat. Stormzy ★★★★★ Favorite Lyric: Coz you can win BRITS (it don’t stop)/And you can do Glasto (headline slot)

Thoughts/Reflection: Fuck. This song, though. IIt’s the first one that jumped out at me when I did my first full album listen. And I haven’t stopped listening since. The chorus is so syncopated. Stormzy is sick on this track, I love his voice so much. And it just feels like the two of them really play off each other nicely and probably had a blast making this song. 

Also, Ed flexing “Grossed half a billi on the Divide tour/No I’m not kidding what would I lie for” is BDE and I’m personally really here for it.

This song is a banger and you should dance in your kitchen to it while baking pastries. FIve stars for you, Big Mike and Teddy.

(Dear God please let Stormzy guest live in Ipswich)

-

Track 5. Best Part of Me feat. YEBBA ★★★★ Favorite Lyric: it’s not a lyric but that part when Ed & YEBBA are harmonizing perfectly in the whoooaaAAaaaA 

Thoughts/Reflection: I love the sound on this song! His voice is so raw and tender here. It reminds me of Plus era, but grown up. I think it may be how delicately he approaches the syllables in his verse and the chorus. YEBBA’s tone is super rich and lovely, and they sound great together.

I’m taking a “star” off here because I don’t love the lyrics. I get that he’s being vulnerable and showing insecurities in verse 1, but then YEBBA follows that up with lamenting about misplacing things and being late for the train? It doesn’t seem to match up with admitting physical/bodily insecurities. Also, it could just be that I hate that Ed thinks of himself this way.

DUDE IS HOT AF

-

Track 6. I Don’t Care feat. Justin Bieber ★★★★ Favorite Lyric: I don’t like nobody but you/I hate everyone here

Thoughts/Reflection: Oh god. When did this song come out? I’m trying to think back to my first impressions of it, LOL. It’s bright and poppy and of course it went and stayed #1 all summer (thus far). I remember thinking it was so cool that the melody is super mainstream and upbeat, but the underlying theme is around social anxiety. “Crippled with anxiety/But I’m told I’m where I’m sposed to be” 

I mostly skip this one now that the full album is out, but I think I listened to it for a full 48 hours on repeat when it first dropped. Bieber is problematic and shit, and honestly I don’t think he adds much to the song. I really like Ed’s acoustic version where he does the whole thing solo.

The bridge slaps. Literally. I love that clapping bit behind it. I wish that Ed hadn’t fucked up the lyrics to the bridge in the acoustic version lolololol

Four stars, will bop along for many moons to come

-

Track 7. Antisocial feat. Travis Scott ★★★★★ Favorite Lyric: So antisocial but I don’t care/Don’t give a damn I’m gonna smoke here/Got a bottle in my hand bring more tho

Thoughts/Reflection: DID YOU SEE HIM GUEST AT TRAVIS’ SHOW LAST NIGHT? This song was already one of my faves but holy shit. In interviews, Ed talks a lot about feeling awkward on stage without a guitar - but it didn’t look like that last night. He was bouncy as all hell, sounded great, looked great. Looked like he was loving the crowd’s energy too.

And the music video? That deserves a post all on it’s own.

This track is pretty short but it’s packed with good stuff. Ed’s intro is really strong here, the chorus is interesting despite the repetition. I physically can’t help but groove along to this tune. I’m sorry. I have no say in the matter

-

Track 8. Remember the Name feat. Eminem, 50 Cent ★★★★★ Favorite Lyric: 20 years old is when I came in the game/And now it's eight years on and you remember the name/And if you thought I was good, well, then I'm better today

Thoughts/Reflection: YES. YES. YES.  The song intros with a reference to Ipswich, bitch. I love how Ed makes those connections back to his upbringing.

It’s a little unreal that these three iconic voices/styles can flow so well on a song and still sound so balanced. 

I’ve got this one on repeat too. I’m determined to learn all of the words damnit!!

Five stars for a tune that I would love to see performed live someday.

-

Track 9. Feels feat. Young Thug, J Hus ★★★

Favorite Lyric: See you wigglin’, jigglin/If I have a bite will it taste like cinnamon?

Thoughts/Reflection: This song is fine. I like the feature verses. The song just doesn’t stick out that much for me.

-

Track 10. Put It All on Me feat. Ella Mai ★★★

Favorite Lyric: I try to be strong but I got demons/So can I lean on you?/I need a strong heart and a soft touch

Thoughts/Reflection: Falsetto. Falsetto everywhere. I love that! Ella Mai’s voice is so rich. Unfortunately, I don’t have a lot more to say on this one. It’s not a song I’m playing on repeat, but I don’t skip it either.

-

Track 11. Nothing On You feat. Paulo Londra, Dave ★★★★ Favorite Lyric: You and I/Whisky on ice/Maybe later we can turn down all the lights

Thoughts/Reflection: This song is SEXY and cool…. ‘smoke clouds and the scent of perfume’.... the imagery. Man. More falsetto here. Also, please go look up the translation of Paulo Londra’s verse. Thanks. I’m sweating. Is it hot in here? This album is *sexual* 

ALSO THE ‘BRRRP’ AFTER “they keep ringing my phone”  bahahahahah 

-

Track 12. I Don’t Want Your Money feat. H.E.R. ★★★★★

Favorite Lyric: I need you here for the good times and the bad times/Yeah the pullin’ out my hair gettin’ mad times/Not just the when I’m in your bed on my back times

Thoughts/Reflection: THIS IS SUCH A GODDAMN TUUUUNEEEEEE!!!!!!! I love this song so much. 10/10 jamming out to this in the car at every opportunity. Finger snappin’ cool r&b vibe. I love the super quick tempo (but not quite rap?) in Ed’s verses. And I always appreciate the little double-meaning-references in Ed’s songs - like ‘diamonds, silver or gold’ means $$$ of course, but also just success in terms of album sales performance.

TBH when I saw the title on Ed’s tracklist reveal, I totally thought this would be a slow mushy love song about how Ed’s lucky to have found someone who wasn’t into him for his money. This was a pleasant surprise!! I love that it’s a little angsty.

Five STARS bitch I love this song and y’all are sleeping on it

-

Track 13. 1000 Nights feat. Meek Mill, A Boogie Wit da Hoodie ★★★★

Favorite Lyric: Birds eye view/Pay my dues/For a two-mile queue

Thoughts/Reflection: i been ON for a thousAND NIGHTSSSSS NEW YORK TO LONDONNN DIFFERENT CITY EVERY DAYAYYY

1000 Nights: a flexy bop and I love it

This song is about the Divide tour which has been going for approximately 572 years. Not that I’m complaining.

But it’s cool (how many times have I said ‘cool’ in this post? don’t answer that). Ed loves touring and that comes out in this song. And Meek’s verse is so fun to rap along to!

Four stars.

-

Track 14. Way To Break My Heart feat. Skrillex ★★★★★

Favorite Lyric: I can’t stop thinkin’ bout her/And her lips on mine, so soft/Feelings I don’t know the name of

Thoughts/Reflection: biiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiitch.

This song is NOSTALGIC and I simply adore it. It has that same… “cozy” feel that Beautiful People does. Which is strange, considering it’s a song about heartbreak. But it’s just so. Soft. And warm. 

We’re back to super soft placement of words and such pure tone. 

It’s hauntingly beautiful. And yet uptempo! Bless, Skrillex. I especially love the drums that come in during the chorus, after “you’re still gone, and i’ll say”

PS, the soft sound of mouth smacking at :13. Use headphones.

Some of my favorite Ed songs are ones about heartbreak, and I appreciate that he included one here. About an imaginary heartbreak 👀

Take another five stars from me, bud

- Track 15. BLOW feat. Chris Stapleton, Bruno Mars ★★★★★

Favorite Lyric: Hot damn/Pop it like a pistol mama/You got me down on my knees/Baby please?

Thoughts/Reflection: *laughing nervously*

Again, definitely not what I expected out of this track when the titles were all revealed. I LOVED release day on this one. The world collectively lost their shit. I need nothing more in this world than to see this song performed live, especially with a full band and Ed on an electric guitar. 

I’m still not over this loud, full, energetic song full of men bellowing about wanting to, well, fuck.

Bye

(five stars from me and also my 62 year old coworker Jan)

:::OVERALL:::

This album is SO GOOD MATE and I already cannot wait until the next collabs project! Ed blessed us with 15 amazing tracks to tide us over until Subtract comes out. They’re so different from his normal album stuff and I really love to see him try new sounds and get to create/collaborate with artists he admires so much.

it also has me real hot and bothered lmao

Thanks for coming to my tEd talk.

[sserkets]

Untitled Striders get a cat fic

Back when I first started writing for this fandom I had requests open and @eighthchiharu asked for a cat fic. 😅 it only took me three years of sitting in my drafts. Heads up I didn’t edit this or even look at it I’m just posting it.

____________________________________

It was pouring down rain outside. Huge drops pelted the windows on the Strider's Huston apartment in a rare rainstorm in the middle of a scalding summer. Texas was almost always hot all the time, but at night in the rain things got a chance to cool down.

It had been another normal night in the strider house until Bro realized he left the windows down in the truck. He left Dave sitting on the futon after pausing their movie.

He should just be a minute, Dave reasoned flicking a fallen piece of popcorn off of his shirt.

The truck's turn crank windows were old but they still functioned like the day Bro bought the orange monstrosity out of a used car lot in two thousand three. Point being, it shouldn't be taking him so long to get his ass back upstairs. The screen saver on the DVD player flashed on, the emblem bouncing across the screen.

The apartment door finally opened twenty minutes after it should have and Dave's brother stumbled in, soaked to the bone like he'd been thrown off a pirate ship.

"What took you so long?" Dave asked, twisting around to took at him.

Bro's clothes clung to him, stuck to his skin like the rainwater made paste, and any place the fabric might have even thought about being loose now sagged it was so water logged. His shades were pushed up on to the top of his head. They were covered in water droplets that prevented him from seeing. His hair product had been all but washed out and huge droplets of water fell on to the linoleum.

None of that was interesting though, just normal caught in the rain stuff. What was interesting about the whole picture was the item Bro was holding in his hands.

It was a kitten, equally as wet as Bro. It clung to him with its tiny white mitten paws, claws hanging on for dear life. It's fur was yellow like Dave's hair with faint orange stripes. It wasn't very old either, maybe only six weeks.

"I found it in the storm drain in the parking lot. Here," Bro thrust the kitten his way, dumping the wet creature in Dave's arms. Tiny claws dug hairline cuts in to Dave's skin before they found purchase in his shirt.

"What am I supposed to do with it?" Dave asked his brother's retreating back.

Bro didn't reply, just chucked a towel his way as he shut the door to his bedroom. The towel hit him in the face, coming unfolded. Grumbling, Dave shifted the cat to one hand to pull the towel off his head.

He had to pry the creature off of him. He would have had better luck with a crowbar. Every time he got a paw unstuck the other would grab back on. Finally with a pathetic mew Dave got the kitten loose and placed it in the towel, gingerly trying to dry some of the water from its fur.

Bro came out a few minutes later in dry clothes and dry shades. He went to the kitchen and grabbed a bowl, filling it part way with water before he brought it to the couch.

"What are we gonna do with it?" Dave quizzed as he tossed the wet towel down on the floor. The cat was dryer, but not all the way.

"I dunno," Bro deadpanned, handing the bowl over the back of the sofa.

"The super hates cats," Dave pointed out. He took the bowl and offered the cat some. The kitten didn't seem interested, so Dave set the bowl down on the coffee table.

"We should keep it then," Bro replied.

"Did you not just hear what I said?"

"It's not against the lease. The more shit I can do to passively piss off the land lord the better," Bro shrugged and stood up right. "I'm gonna go down to the drug store and buy some cat food and a litter box."

"What do I do with it until you get back?" Dave used an arm to pull himself up the back of the couch, watching his brother go for an umbrella near the door.

"I dunno," Bro shrugged, stepping back outside the front door, "you could start by finding out if it's a girl or a boy?"

Bro was gone just like that, shutting Dave inside with the kitten.

Dave sat still a few more moments until the DVD went back to the main menu and the blasting music scared the cat. It cowered against him, huge eyes scanning the room. Dave reached over with one hand to shut the TV off and he used the other hand to scoop up the cat.

With both hands he turned it over on to its back. Dave was pretty sure this was a girl cat. Or it could be a boy? He didn't exactly know what he was even supposed to be looking for, actually. He hadn't spent much time around cats.

In the end, he decided to just hold it for now and wait for Bro to come home.

It's little body was warming up quick in his hands now that it's fur was dry. Even though it was scared, it was a nice cat. Who would throw such a nice little thing out in a rain storm?

Dave slumped over on the couch arm, shifting to his back and placing the kitten on his chest. The little orange fluff curled up on him, and Dave watched as its eyes drifted shut and its head got lower and lower until it was finally asleep. Cute little shit. The two of them stayed there too until the apartment door opening signaled the return of his brother.

Bro wandered over, bags in hand, sticking a finger under the cat’s chin to rub. Even asleep, the kitten purred for him.

"Make you a deal,” he said. “You scoop the box, I buy the food."

"Whoa whoa, no. I didn't ask for the cat. I scoop no boxes."

"Okay,” Bro shrugged. “Hand it over. I'll take it to the pound."

Dave narrowed his eyes and twisted away from Bro, clutching the cat to his chest.

"That's what I thought," Bro snorted. "So is it a boy, or a girl?"

"I can't tell," Dave said flatly, and pried the cat off of his shirt. He handed the handful of fuzz over to his brother and Bro took it carefully. He flipped the kitten and took half a second's look.

"It's a boy."

"Cool. No girl cats crashing on our testosterone den of an apartment today," Dave grinned, reaching for the cat back. Bro handed him over carefully.

"Hell yeah."

"What are we gonna name him?"

"I don't fuckin know," Bro shrugged. "He's yours, you name him. Jesus, Kid, I get you a kitten and you can't even name it."

"You didn't get me a kitten! You found it by chance!" Dave disagreed, speaking to Bro's retreating back. Bro plopped back down on the sofa and sort of groaned at the tv. He'd been gone so long the paused screen had already gone to screen saver, and then shut itself off in power saver mode.

Dave followed him, still clutching his new cat. ”Could just call him Jeff.”

“Jeff? Like your dumb comic?” Bro laughed.

“Yeah. Ironically after my comic.”

“Of course. Ironically.”

[touchlotsofbutts]

Tay’s fav new artists, songs, albums of 2019; decade favs too <3

Hello friends. I have listened to 20,000 songs this year (#brag). Some of them I have listened to more than once, and some of them are all together on one really good album I like. Here's some lists of the songs, albums, and people who make them that I liked a lot.

For your listening convenience: a Spotify playlist with the artists, songs, and albums in question. One song from each artist, one song from each album: checka me out

5 new artists from (roughly) this year (unordered)

Slayyyter

Slayyyter is the logical conclusion of the early 2000's pop wave, absolutely bubble gum but no longer pulling and punches with its sexual desire. "He wanna get in my guts" indeed.

100 Gecs

I love high energy, I love noise, and I love catchy. Synthesize major electronic musical movements of the last 10 years and then kick that in the dick and you get 100 Gecs.

Stef Chura

A consistent AF album, with great single songs and a slow procession as well, I'm very hyped for more!

Glass Beach

This band is cutting edge, they know a shitton about music, their hour long album feels like it's only 30 minutes, it teleports you away.

Nilüfer Yanya

Clearly someone who is making music with a succinct style and aesthetic, I find it great to see a full album form around (relatively) simple concepts like an imaginary mental health spa.

10 Songs from this year (ordered)

10. "Good News (Ya-Ya Song)" by MUNA

Unexpectedly a smash hit for me, this is such a simple song but something in the melody stirs a deep and warming feeling within me.

9. "Falling Down The Stairs Of Your Smile" by The New Pornographers

New Pornographers always have great singles. Their albums never quite capture the same feeling, and it breaks my heart every time. Still love the band.

8. "Can't Believe The Way We Flow" by James Blake

A many month throwback, this song was a go-to for the whole year. Seemingly forgotten by many (surely not Dave tho), this album and song really showed additional depth for Blake in my eyes.

7. "24" by IDK

Should to DJ Big Fan. This song is fun as fuck and has so many good one-liners. "She says she not a THOT she a nymphooo"

6. "Clarity" by Kim Petras

This song is a guilty pleasure, not because I am ashamed of its content or sound, but because Kim consistently works with Dr. Luke, the fuckhead who absolutely abused Ke$ha. This song absolutely bops though. Oof.

5. "All I Do is Lie" by Stef Chura

A very small sleeper hit for me, and a big regret when I missed Stef playing nearby, but I love the winding and twisting of this song and the simple mantras bouncing back and forth between meanings.

4. "Lark" by Angel Olsen

This song encapsulates all of Angel's album. It's the lead-in to the album, and it truly matches the scope and grandeur.

3. "Stupid Horse" by 100 Gecs

A song so strong I also want to beat the shit out of a jockey. Distill 100 gecs and for me, this song is at the center. High energy, nonsense, and just total fun. I don't feel bad saying I kind of wish all music sounded like this (sometimes).

2. "Jelmore" by Bon Iver

14,115 feet above sea level, I look out to the sweeping arc of the horizon, a cloudy sky blankets the landscape I left behind. Play this song on your rental car speakers when you choose to conquer fear and ascend a towering mountain.

1. "Gretel" by (Sandy) Alex G

I adore the slow fade in, the garbled vocals, the familiar guitar. The garbled mix slowly devolves into a clear message. Alex G has said he never looks up lyrics, that there is an ambiguity to all words in songs. Is that why he sings this with such clear conviction? There's no misinterpretation here: "good people got something to lose."

20 Albums from this year (ordered)

The first ten are great, but I didn't want to blurb for them all!

20. Clarity by Kim Petras

19. MAGDALENE by FKA Twigs

18. Midnight by Stef Chura

17. Miss Universe by Nilüfer Yanya

16. Dedicated by Carly Rae Jepsen

15. Two Hands by Big Thief

14. Assume Form by James Blake

13. basking in the glow by oso oso

12. Why Hasn't Everything Already Disappeared? by Deerhunter

11. Pang by Caroline Polachek

10. Animated Violence Mild by Blanck Mass

I became stuck in place while listening to Blanck Mass on a plane this summer. One of the only albums I downloaded, it was all I had at 30,000 feet, thrumming engines piercing all the other music I had handy. The cacophony only added to this album, noise layered on noise but turning into melodies and stretching into songs.

9. Father of the Bride by Vampire Weekend

I don't know a ton about jam bands, but I definitely feel it when everyone else says this album was made in hopes of becoming one. This long ass album has some great highs, some charming lows, and honestly a really good chunk of Danielle Haim. Really a soundtrack to 2019 in a lot of ways. But it's really fuckin' long.

8. IGOR by Tyler, the Creator

Tyler's career has had the craziest arc. Rapping about killing women and progressing all the way to IGOR, which, is it even a rap album? The album contains such clear direction and vision, and far less of the reckless anger that Tyler became known for. The energy and sound has been honed down to a fine point, and there's a conciseness that sticks with you for hours after listening.

7. House of Sugar by (Sandy) Alex G

Alex G has always done so much for me. Bedroom music that has transformed each time into bigger and more detailed versions of itself. House of Sugar is no exception. While maybe a little less thrilling for me than Rocket, it's another evolution of this stripped down style, still laid bare but richer all the same.

6. U.F.O.F. by Big Thief

A lot of lists are going to feature some Big Thief. Big Thief is good, their music pierces you through the flesh and hits you in the bones. It stirs the spirit of a time now lost, sidelong glances through thickets of woodsy pines, listening to a friend play a simple song on their new guitar. It's great to celebrate a band and an album that puts a lot of pretense to bed and creates a simple, pleasing experience.

5. Charli by Charli XCX

Charli delivers an album after years of PC Music collaborated mix tapes and psuedo-album releases. Charli isn't some sort of second coming, but is the pinnacle of her expertise: fantastic collaborations, cutting edge beats, and familiar tales of her love and loss.

4. All Mirrors by Angel Olsen

Angel wasn't really known for her grandeur. Her songs and albums were dynamic, sure, with strong emotions, but All Mirrors dives into the direction of a grand pool, crystal clear and vast. "Lark" is a sweeping masterpiece, while "All Mirrors" has a methodical build and release. Angel is fully putting her voice and composition to work with an album this magnificent.

3. the first glass beach album by Glass Beach

My favorite description for this band is "post-emo." Many of my compatriots are not fond of band genres in generally, but for me this really nails it. It's a combination of an emotional, DIY scene with an online mentality, which I feel is representing the pace of the world. Also the music absolutely blasts, grand and epic and quiet and pensive, meandering as it wants.

2. Ghosteen by Nick Cave & The Bad Seeds

Until about two months ago, I wasn't even a huge Nick Cave fan. Serendipitously, I happened to look into his backlog a couple weeks before this surpirse release. I spent a small amount of time looking into his older style, but when Ghosteen popped up, it floored me. That tangible loss, the grief that winds around you and grips you from within, it's on this album in full force. It's an album I know I will listen to sparingly, but lovingly, for ages and ages.

1. 1000 Gecs by 100 Gecs

I typically do not measure these kinds of lists by the number of listens. Usually albums with emotional weight or impact are not so accessible or listenable. This album is an absolute exception, it is crystalline and pure, it is powerful and subtle, its energy infectious. For me, it's a clear message describing the future of music I love.

Honorable menties, not conclusive or ordered, from this year:

Albums:

IDK's Is He Real?

Holly Herndon's PROTO

JPEGMAFIA's All My Heroes Are Cornballs

Battles's Juice B Crypts

Bon Iver's i,i

American Football's American Football (LP3)

DIIV's Deceiver

Anamanguchi's [USA]

Sir Babygirl's Crush on Me

Sharon Van Etten's Remind Me Tomorrow

Hemlock Ernst & Kenny Segal's Back At The House

Jay Som's Anak Ko

Florist's Emily Alone

Songs:

"Harmony Hall" by Vampire Weekend

"Superbike" by Jay Som

"Aute Cuture" by ROSALÍA

Many many others!

Roughly 10 of 2010-2019's best albums (unordered)

Halcyon Digest by Deerhunter

Encapsulate all of the indie rock I listened to and make it so dramatic it oozes lackadaisical energy.

The Idler Wheel Is Wiser Than the Driver of the Screw and Whipping Cords Will Serve You More Than Ropes Will Ever Do by Fiona Apple

The title is as long as the album is great. I am chomping at the bit for Fiona to follow this up with literally anything.

Carrie & Lowell by Sufjan Stevens

Many feel Sufjan could do no wrong, but it's not that he's unimpeachable, it's that he is able to shift his sound in pivotal ways at pivotal moments.

Cerulean Salt by Waxahatchee

Waxahatchee captured the post college ennui I was so suddenly thrust into, and continues to kick ass even after I got over the dread.

Allelujah! Don't Bend! Ascend! by Godspeed You! Black Emperor

This album kicks ass, but also I have an undying emotional connection to it since I listened to it on repeat the months after pops died! "We Drift Like Worried Fire" is entwined in my soul.

Good Kid, M.A.A.D City by Kendrick Lamar

There is a lot of great Kendrick to choose from, but the one absolutely stacked with bangers will remain my favorite (but I totally acknowledge the artistic merit and beyond of Damn. and TPAB).

The Monitor by Titus Andronicus

I only got into this album like four years after the fact, but it scratched the civil-war-concept-album-actually-about-the-Northeast I didn't know I had! Pumped it also taught me a cool Abe Lincoln speech.

E•MO•TION by Carly Rae Jepsen

This album guided me from toeing around pop music to going all in and finally have a good time in life.

Song of the summer:

"Steal My Sunshine" by Len

Remarkably, for the 20th year in a row, the song of the summer is Len's "Steal My Sunshine." What a powerhouse.

[paradoxidolatry]

Brotherly Love

@birdhole , @beatconductor a lil bit

TG: hey TG: sup

TT: Hey. TT: Not much.  Lunch break at work. TT: Sup?

TG: oh thats sweet TG: sucks theres no free pizza in it when you work as a cop huh TG: i guess its overall kind of a step up from the pizza gig tho

TT: Right? Free donuts though. TT: But nah, yeah, not so bad. TT: Didn't get a chance to tell you about it but I figure Dave or whoever's already spilled those beans. TT: Kinda weird, right?

TG: yeah dave told me TG: donuts just like a real cop huh TG: still cant quite wrap my head around this cop thing tbh TG: i can see you working as a LOT of things but a cop? thats wild

TT: Yeah. TT: I mean, I figured.  Got all that military experience, right? TT: But I didn't want to go back to the military. TT: Plus, working as a cop is an equal mix of 'keeps me active' and 'allows me to work around certain roadblocks in regards to the acquisitions business', so it was a good compromise. TT: Better than fast food and skin flicks again, at any rate.

TG: i mean i guess that makes logical sense n all TG: still fucking wild as shit to me TG: guess you can still wear a uniform even its obviously not as sweet as the fast food ones

TT: Yeah, I really miss that old greasy apron. TT: But what can you do?

TG: the grease just made your eyes pop in that special way ykno TG: chicks love it

TT: They fuckin do, don't they? TT: But somethin tells me you didn't message me to talk about the chicks missing my pizza funk.

TG: you sure about that? its a pretty great topic you could write a book on it become rich quick with your pick up tips

TT: Hey, I'm already on chapter 7: the Sausage Party. TT: But really though. TT: What's up, boss?

TG: nothing TG: i was just TG: thinking about you is all

> Heart, squeeze. TT: That right? TT: Cool, cool. TT: Was thinking about you earlier too, actually.

TG: oh? any reason or

[Dave txt @ bro] im watching u [Dave txt @ bro] > that chicken image

TT: Just, y'know. TT: Was outside on a smoke break and I saw a couple of pigeons hanging out, eating some sandwich or some shit on the sidewalk and like. TT: Got me thinking about you, and like. TT: I spent the past 13 years thing you're dead or some shit, and now you're alive and it's. TT: Just fuckin buck wild. TT: Pardon me for sound fucking sappy but it's kind of like a dream come true.

[TT > Dave: I'm behaving, dad.]

TG: ...am i a pigeon now? tho i do admit i would eat that floor sandwich(edited) TG: yeah its...its fucking wild huh? TG: kinda thought id never see you again even after TG:  i got away and shit TG: idk why not like you up and died but? after looking for you and you werent there i dunno i guess TG: i thought you just TG: werent going to come back TG: ...you didnt even see my wings yet you dont get to relate me to birds just yet dude

TT: I mean, I saw them in a picture. TT: One of you and Dave and a bunch of trolls and some old dude in front of a candy cane dildo? TT: But also you post about birds and shit all the time, so I figured that was sort of your Thing now. TT: And ... well.  I dunno. TT: Almost didn't. TT: I was just gonna stay on Earth, maybe pop in to visit every so often. TT: But then all that shit happened and Dave wasn't answering my messages, so I thought he was dead too, and...well. TT: I guess I'm, uh... grateful to the apocalypse for.  I guess bringing you back to me? TT: Well, no. TT: But like, at least letting me know you're alive.

TG: oh...yeah thats TG: thats my sisters actually and uh..shit what even is grig? grandpa i guess TG: already know mr d after all TG: i mean... im not sure how i feel yet TG: i guess im sorta glad because TG: i mean it has been my embarrassing dream to play family with you again for a while TG: i want to be a family again TG: a lot TG: its just TG: hard

TT: Sisters, huh?  Well damn, you got the whole family package with these folks, huh? TT: Nice.  How long you been with them? TT: Yeah, I figured. TT: I didn't, and don't, make it easy. I know. TT: A lot easier when you were a baby, even if our folks were shit, just cuz, y'know. TT: Everything hadn'tt happened yet. TT: Hadn't started to completely fuckin lose my mind and treat you like dogshit. TT: But I mean.  I dunno. TT: I'm not gonna force you or nothin. TT: But if you ever wanted to come backto the apartment and chill for a day, see how you feel about it? TT: That'd be uh. TT: That'd be really nice.

TG: 3 years TG: as long as ive been TG: away from scratch... TG: i..yeah i guess maybe TG: can you even handle seeing me get gay with dave tho

TT: God.  You were with Scratch that whole fuckin time? TT: Fuckin sonnuvabitch refused to tell me what he did with you. TT: Anyway. TT: Handling y'all and your homogay is a small price to pay at the end of the day. TT: Even if it's still. TT: Kinda really weird from my perspective. TT: But I respect y'all and he takes good care of you, so I can't complain too much, right?

TG: ...yeah like ten years TG: kinda fucked up huh TG: ill..ill think about it TG: okay so im gonna be real with you here for a sec okay TG: i TG: messaged you because i was talking to dave and i realized i missed you and TG: that i TG: kindawantahugiguess

TT: ...Yeah? TT: I can do a hug, yeah. TT: Where are you?  I can meet you, if you wanna.

TG: ...workin TG: at [coords] TG: dont arrest me mr officer these drugs are prescription

TT: I'll leave the cuffs in the car. TT: What happens off-duty stays off-duty, though, so. TT: See you in five.

TG: kay > Try not to freak out. Freak out anyways.

> Pull up by the curb a short walk away and park. > Look, you even pay for the parking meter and everything. > Step out of the car in your full uniform and approach Sock, one hand in  your pocket, the other raised in a wave hello.

> Oh god, he really fucking is a god damn cop. That's so damn weird. God. > Not as weird as randomly meeting up with him for a hug though. Damn it that was the dumbest idea. > You wave back, trying hard to look cool and not like you are dying on the inside and failing miserably.

> You stride up alongside him and... ...well, now what, actually. > Neither of you are very good at this kind of planning, are you. > Damnit, Striders. "Hey." > Now just to... > ... > Open your arms up? > Yeah.  That's how hugs happen.

> Oh god, he's going right for it.Oh god. Not even small talk or anything really bro? > Maybe that's better anyways because god know you don't know what to say. "Hey." > You take a deep breath and you...Go for the fucking hug. Squeeze that big bro tight.

> Aww shit here it comes and here he is.  All up and hugging you. > Actually, that's uh. > That's real nice. > You wrap your arms around him and pull him in for a good, tight hug. > It's probably not the most comfortable thing, what with your radio strapped onto your chest and name plates aand shit, but. > At least for you?  This is a fucking good hug. > (Don't you dare tear up in public.)

> You don't really care about the cofort level of this, it's something you've been craving for 13 years now, a little radio isn't going to stop you from enjoying it. > It's nice. It's familiar, like all the good parts of Bro you've been missing wrapped up for you in one big huggable form. Easy to forget all the shit for a moment. > But the moment does end and when you pull away you have to wipe at you eyes like an idiot. "Uh...Th-thanks."

> Aww, shit goddamn.  He's teaaring up too under those glasses. > You swipe one knuckle under your shades, and you take a steaadying breath. "Hey, yeah, no problem." > Breathe easy, Strider.  You glance up for a moment as you see a fatass snowflake come drifting down, then you look to Sock again. "Hey, you wanna maybe grab some lunch with me?  Haven't eaten yet and it's still my break, so."

> Well at least you are both sappy motherfuckers now. > Oh. You didn't expect that. You think about what Dave told you earlier "Stay in control" and promptly decide to fuck that advice because shit. You are already here. You already went for it like an idiot. "Yeah sure. Gonna have Donuts like a proper cop?" > You make such a face at the snow. Ugh, you didn't really prepare for that kinda weather, fuck.

> You snort a laugh and give your flat stomach a pat. "Gotta work on that signature cop gut, don't I? C'mon." > You gesture behind you with a jerk of your thumb. "Hop in up front.  You can pick the place."

"Hell yeah you do. You look like a fake ass striper cop dude." > You get into the car and immediately get the seatbelt. Doesn't feel safe otherwise. You don't really like cars still but you can't pin point why. It's just a weird personality quirk yeah? But you are used to being in one at this point of your life. > Just drive carefully. Please.

> You hop in and buckle up too, both pleased and a litttle saddened that you didn't even need to remind Sock to put on his seatbelt. > Poor kid. > Luckily, you are an impeccably safe driver, and the drive to Wherever is smooth and uneventful.

> Old habits die hard. > You feel kind of awkward in the car with him, it's too silent for our tastes. > You get out of the car at whatever this amazing food place he's taking you is. Fingers crossed for fast food- "Y'know kinda funny. Always figured my first frive in a cop car would be because I'm getting arrested."

> You snort a laugh.  It's Sock's old favorite pizza place. > God you hope he still likes this shit. > Also this wasn't a Pizza Pimp before, was it?  It was Gino's-- > Wait. > Ugh, well, maybe Dave's not at work. "If you're planning on getting arrested, you're doing this pushing thing wrong, kid."(edited)

> Oh the Pizza Pimp. Fucking score. Maybe Dave is there, that would be rad. "I didn't say I was, I said I didn't think I'd ride a cop car otherwise. Your hearing getting bad?" > You immediately freeze after saying that. Oh man, actually sassing Bro though? Please don't hit me.

> Dave is unfortunately not there, but he sure would love to.

> You catch that freeze, and you... > You snort a little, before pointing to your ears. "Too many concerts and phat-ass beats.  Knew I shouldn't have gotten all up and personal with those speakers.  Who knew the grown-ups were right about that?" > You smile, and it's a little awkward cuz you sure as hell have never been the smiling type, before you hold open the door for him. "C'mon, before we freeze our asses off."

> Oh. Okay. It's cool. It's chill. In a quite literal sense even so you get your silly ass inside. > A smile though? You haven't seen your brother smile in...far longer than you haven't seen him for sure. > That little scare knocked the speech right out of you though so you just awkwardly sit down at the next best table, suddenly really not sure how good of an idea this was.

> You take a seat opposite him, and when the server approaches, you order yourself a water instead of a soda. > Who are you, even. > You glance over the menu, humming softly.  Some of these item names... fitting for a place called Pizza Pimp. "You wanna split one, or do individuals, or?"

> Who is he indeed. You order a black coffee instead of apple juice though, so maybe the traditional Strider beverages are just staying outside today. "Uhhh..Not super hungry honestly I don't mind sharing one." > You haven't been able to eat a whole pizza at once in a while but you don't say that.

"Alright.  We'll split a medium and you can take the rest home if you want." > You let him pick the toppings too.  This really is a strange Strider day.

> The strangest. Do they have nuggets as topping because you want that.

> They might have like, baked chicken, which is kinda like nuggets and also? Is Carro-approved.

> Do you think the pizza pimp doesn't have a nugget topping what kinda fool do you take Dave for.

> A big one. >:3

> LISTEN Nuggets have been added like at least two months ago. Cock Special.

> Goddamnit, Dave.

> Sock loves Dave and the Cock Special Pizza. Prepare ya taste buds Bro.(edited)

"One Cock Special with extra cock please" > Yes, this is exactly how you order.

> Oh your face. > You're so fucking proud.  Dave sure is your little brother, and so too is Sock. > Bless these fucking kids.

"Hope you like it, it's my fav." > Both the pizza and you know.

> Yeah.  Yeah, you know. "Sure I will." > Snort a laugh. "This sure isn't Gino's anymore, huh.  You remember that place?"

"Oh yeah. Man..That's been a while. Clover gifted the place to Dave what? 2 years ago?" > Back when you were on a no homo basis. Memories.

> [Clover: nya face]

"Used to be your favorite, but maybe that's because it was free when I worked here. ...Clover?"

"I'm always a slut for free food but I still digged their shit later. Oh uh..Yeah. Little green guy? 4 of the Felt?" > Should..You now have mentioned that?

> [Dave] Oh no.

> There's this shift in your face.  It's not a frown, but a certain tightening of your lips as you're hit with the full brunt of what Sock just said. "...Dave's...doing business with the Felt?"

> WHOOPSIES >Oh. Oh, oh, oh shit. You fucked up. You didn't really think about that when you said it. At all. Shit. Fuck. Damn. "Hahaha whaaaat? Noooo. Of course not! He'd never uh...Clover is just y'know his uh... Sugar daddy yeah. Cash money man, can't say no to that even from a greenie right?" > Well it's not entirely a lie. You are sweating though.

> You paw at your face and you sit back in your seat, eyebrows knit together tightly. > Looks like you're going to have to have a little talk with Dave when you get home. "...No, guess not.  Desperate times and all that, right?"

"Yeah exactly! Haha..." > God this is uncomfortable. You are going to warn Dave but you already feel like shit. Fuck. "Don't...Don't hurt him okay?" > There's fear in your eyes now. Not for you but for your boyfriend, which is so much worse in your eyes.

> That snaps you Right out of your bad thought spiral and you quickly wave your hand. "Hey, no, no.  Not gonna hurt him.  It's chill." > There's that smile again, even if it's uneasy and a bit green around the gills.  Your brother and the Felt... "Really.  Just surprised he hadn't mentioned it before now."

> [Dave] GUESS WHY.

" 'kay..." > He probably hadn't mentioned it for a reason. You couldn't have known Dave wasn't supposed to do business with the Felt but you still feel like shit. It makes sense in hindsight and considering your history of course but...You just plain didn't know. > The Pizza arrives but you suddenly don't feel very hungry at all, sipping on you coffee awkwardly instead.

> You're, similarly, not hungry, but you've got to salvage this.  Not telling when or if Sock will agree to see you again after this. "Sorry, I just... Y'know, getting offered a gift by those guys.  If they had snatched Dave too..." > You shake your head, and sigh it off.  Out with the bad. "But they didn't, and that's that.  So." > You take up a slice of the pizza and you point is casually at Sock, an eyebrow quirked. "What're you out there peddling?"

> Oh. You'd really rather not follow that line of thought, yeah.  Smooth topic change. "Dude, don't think I should be discussing that with a cop in a pizzeria. Mr D would murder me man."

"Hey." > You make a show of taking off your badge and laying it upside down on the table. "Off-duty, not a cop.  So is it the good shit, or is it like, oregano in a dimebag being passed off as weed."

"We're still in public man." > And you don't want to piss off your Dad on top of the shit you just pulled.

"Yeah, yeah.  Weren't you in public anyway?" > You chuckle a little and you point toward the kitchen area. "Your big bro used to sell shitty dimebags out of there, way back.  Dealt to all the line cooks."

" Course you did." > You roll your eyes behind your shades. "What you want an inventory list? Okay I'll just tell you my favorite product aight? Kinder Überraschungseier......The surprise is Cocaine." > Huh, sure did slip into your mother tongue there. Welp..

> Okay.  You actually laugh then. "You're selling Kinder Überraschungseier full of Cocaine.  Shut the fuck up, seriously?" > You're nodding approvingly now. "That's a fucking great idea.  Where the fuck'd you get the chocolates, though? Make them yourself?"

> That makes you feel..really proud? Huh. You can't stop the big dorky grin from spreading on your face. "Best idea I ever had, honestly. I'm importing them from earth, duh. Along with a bunch of other banned sweets and shit. Who the fuck thought peeps are illegal anyways?"

> You balk at that and you laugh again. "Peeps are illegal here-- wait, shit, right." > Smack your forehead. "That's my job to know that now.  Wow, fuckin fire me now."

"Maybe I should show you my stock, just as a reminder. A fucking lot of dumb shit is. Fucking Lattes were banned man. Until the King unbanned them just for Jude which is honestly so fucking stupid. Way to play favorite, just like royalty should am I right? Not that I'm complaining, love me a big fat Latte." > Man it's...Nice to be able to make that kind of shit tier level german dick joke and to know you're gonna be understood just fine.

> You snort your water and you pull a face,but you're clearly goofing around a loving it. "Fucking nasty, dude.  I don't need to hear about your love of big hot fuckin Lattes."

"Aren't you glad the prospitian monarchy digs a steaming hot Latte too? What a life that would be otherwise." > You snort yourself.

"Jesus christ.  Fuckin whities, dude." > You stuff some pizza in your mouth and you talk withyour mouth full like the fat nasty trash you are. "Can you believe I have to work with them?  Like what the fuck."

"The Queen gives me the creeps with her I love everyone bull. And the King seems like a huge fucking idiot so...Congrats man. Jackpot."

"Not had the chance to meet either, but this is the closest I've gotten to infiltrating the corrupt government yet.  Maybe if I keep my shit up, I can finally overthrow them from the inside." > You are entirely dead seriouus.

"What's the masterplan? Shoot them in public?" > You aren't but you also don't mind the topic. Not a fan of these guys.

"Nah, nah, nothing like that.  Too messy.  Besides." > You gesture at the scar that runs oveer your eyes. "Never been a fan of guns."

"I know." > Hell maybe you should be grateful he ain't. Swords fucked you over bad enough. "Seems like a popular approach is all. Like historically or whatever. But I guess you gotta go for something less stale huh?"

"Of course.  Flashy's the only way to be when you're taking out a corrupt system of government."

"Looking forwards to the show Bro." > Except you hope he's fucking joking.

> You totally fucking aren't. > You toss him a wink, which of course he can't see all that well behind your shades. "Hope it's a good one.  You gonna eat any pizza, lil bro?"

"Oh, right." > You finally grab a piece too. "How's the Cock Special?"

> Stuff the rest of your piece into your mouth and brush the crumbs off of your fingers. "It's not big hot Latte, but it's nice and tasty all up in my mouth, so it'll do."

"I mean we can grab a Latte next time-" > Did you just say next time. Did you just imply you want to meet up like this again? Shit. > Stuff your mouth with Pizza real quick.

> Oh. > Oh... That makes yourr heart do the smiley emote. > You grin a liittle bit about that and you say, voice kinda soft, "Yeah... alright.  I'd like that."

"Me too...I think." > If you don't hurt my boyfriend tonight that is, is what you think.

> Don't you worry, Sock.  Not gonna hurt your boyfriend tonight. > You're not gonna be home, so Dave gets to go unhurt for another night.

> Or any other night Bro.(edited) > Or day, or ever:

> Well, at least you'll try to keep your cool when you talk to Dave about it later.

> That's a good start.

> Fuck yeah.  Before you all finish up here, you nod back to the streets now lightly coat with snow. "You going back to your corner, right?  You need a jacket?"

"I mean, I'll live..." > But it's pretty obvious that you don't have any especially warm clothes on you, you know like an idiot.

"Yeah, and you'll get sick, doofus." > You shrug off your jacket--it's a plain black windbreaker, while you wait for your city issue polcie jacket to come in--and you ball it up, handing it over to him. "Here."

> You open your mouth to respond but the Jacket is already in your hands. Oh. That's..Oh. > Is that what it's like to have a caring older brother? "Thanks..." > The Jacket is far too big for you and smells like Bro. It's a weird feeling to put it on. Like a hug you can wear. > Your heart is doing several emotions.

"Hey, no sweat. No good to go out there to work if you're just gonna freeze to death, yeah?" > You have the server bring you all a box for the leftovers, and you give those to him, too. > You stand from the stand and stretch. "Alright, my lunch is about over.  You ready to go?

"Uh, yeah." > You are still trying to sort your feelings over all of this. It's weird. It's nice. > It's what you wanted all along. > Except for the part where you are scared about Dave. > You get up too feeling like a huge fool.

> You, very very carefully, put your hand on his back and lead him out back into the cold. > Look to him, then to your car. "Back to tthe same corner? Or you got anywhere else you need to be?"

> You tense up just a little at the touch but let it happen anyways. "Y-yeah same place." > You just get into the car quickly to cut off the awkward moment. Not without putting on your seatbelt of course.

> Always seatbelt first, kid! > You buckle in and drive him back to the street corner you found him on, putting the car into park but not getting out. "Alright.  Don't get into any trouble, alright?  Oh, and patrol comes past here in about 30 minutes, so be cool when they pass, yeah?"

"Oh uh..Okay. See you, I guess." > You wave an awkward goodbye, overwhelmed by a lot of conflicting emotions.

> You're about to drive off, but then you open the door and, hanging halfway out, you call to him, "Hey! Love you, Sock."

> That just leaves you starring for a moment. Did he just-? Does he? What. Can not compute. "L-Love you too Bro..." > You are not sure if he heard that with the way you mumbled that. You are not sure if you want him to or not. > It's only getting weirder. > But it also warms your birdy little heart.

> You heard it--you've actually got pretty good hearing still, despite all tthatt music and shit. > You smile and wave again before ducking back into your car and driving off.

> The patrol driving by half an hour later doesn't find a drug dealer, just a crying kid in some back alley. > This absolutely kills the bird.

[keepingupwithlinmanuel]

Lin-Manuel Miranda, 'Weird Al' Yankovic Talk New 'Hamilton Polka'

Earlier today, Lin-Manuel Miranda fulfilled his ultimate childhood fantasy by releasing "Weird Al" Yankovic's "The Hamilton Polka." The hysterical tune, which manages to cram all of Hamilton into a frenetic five-minute polka, is the latest installment in Miranda's ongoing Hamildrop series, where artists like the Decemberists, Nas, Dave East and Aloe Blacc put their own spin on songs from his Broadway musical. He hoped to have "The Hamilton Polka" ready for February, but "Weird Al" was so busy prepping his Ridiculously Self-Indulgent, Ill-Advised Vanity Tour that they couldn't get it out until March 2nd. But in a brilliant move by "Weird Al," they simply decided to declare the date February 30th.

Not long after taping an appearance on The Tonight Show with Jimmy Fallon, Yankovic and Miranda sat down with us to talk about "The Hamilton Polka," their close friendship, the possibility of future collaborations and hanging out with Larry David on the set of Curb Your Enthusiasm.

Let's go through the history here. Lin, tell me your first memory of hearing "Weird Al" music when you were younger. Miranda: Oh, God. My first memory was hearing "Fat," which is a spoof of "Bad," and like most "Weird Al" fans you discover that there is a catalog and this isn't a one-off. "Oh, my God. There's tons of these." I remember asking my parents for "Weird Al" albums for Christmas and I remember the Christmas morning. There were all these cassettes,  Dare to Be Stupid, Polka Party, In 3-D. I kinda got the mother lode all at once. And that's the rest of my childhood right here.

At that point, did you know the songs he was spoofing? Miranda: To this day, I've never heard "Lola" by the Kinks. To this day I've never heard it!

Yankovic: Wow!

Miranda: To me, that's "Yoda." But some of them I have and with some of them it was years until I realized. I didn't know "I Lost on Jeopardy" was a spoof until like a decade later. I always knew they were half parodies and half genre parodies or original songs, but sometimes it took me a really long time to catch on to the fact that he was really spoofing something.

...

So how did you guys become actual friends? Miranda: I would just get in touch with him anytime I was in L.A. after that first initial contact. We would hang out. Going to Amoeba Records with Al is a very surreal experience. They just start playing his stuff because he's there. Al TV just started playing on the monitors. I'll never forget, I don't know if you remember this, but we were in the car and you were at a red light. You picked up your phone and went, "Oh, cool. Tony Hawk just named a move after me." That's the kind of thing that happens to Al and doesn't happen to other people, that's kind of amazing and blessed.

When I decided to do a year of singles, I reached out to him. The nature of this collaboration is, "Here's everything in the show. Go do what you want." That's what happened. He did a polka and I heard it the first time last Thursday.

Yankovic: It was hard for me because everything I did in production I was like, "Oh, Lin would love to hear that. I should send it to him." And then I was like, "No, no." I told him, "You can only hear it for the first time once." I didn't want to send him the demo. I wanted his first experience to be the real thing so he'd have that one-time experience. I'll send you the demo now though.

Walk me through the process. Did you always know it would be a polka medley? Yankovic: Lin pitched it to me as a polka medley way more hesitantly than you should have. He was like, "Would you want to do a polka medley?" I was like, "Of course I do!" It was the kind of thing I'd be pitching him if I didn't know him already.

Miranda: Listen, as a longtime "Weird Al" fan, that's a scary ask to make. I also know there's only been two other cases where he's devoted an entire polka medley to a particular artist. There's "Hot Rocks Polka" on the UHF soundtrack and the Queen polka ["Bohemian Polka"]. I cannot presume to be in that rarified air as the Rolling fuckin' Stones! But I asked.

Yankovic: But you are and here you are.

Miranda: I was thrilled when I heard it.

...

That must have been a busy time for you since you were also prepping your tour. Yankovic: Yeah. We were in the middle of rehearsals and there was another project we were working on at the same time. Lin was asking me to get it done a little earlier. That's the reason it wound up being February 30th because ...

Miranda: I wanted it to be the February Hamildrop.

Yankovic: He was like, "Can we please have it a little earlier." We crunched the numbers. We looked at the schedule and were like, "No." We delivered it the night of February 22nd. We mastered on the 23rd.

Miranda: His idea was like, "Why don't we just say it's February 30th?" I was like, "That's the most perfect 'Weird Al' creative problem solving possible. We're doing that."

...

To wrap up here, are there any more childhood heroes of yours you want to meet and work with or is Al really the top? Miranda: Al is pretty much it. I'm good. It's funny. I posted teasers on Twitter today of what we were dropping tonight at midnight. On my private Facebook I posted, "Ten-year-old Lin has ascended. He is out of dreams. They've all been accomplished. We're good."

Go read the rest. It’s adorable.

[maryofone]

Boyz In The Hood

There’s a group of men in my life that deserve a shoutout, and I don’t even know most of their names.

I live in Parkdale, this cool hood in the west end of Toronto that is like a weird little microcosm of the entire world. All kinds of different cultures and classes, all mingled together. This lively mix of humanity makes for some pretty interesting neighbours and thus affords me some pretty interesting attention from dudes. Dudes from all walks of life. Dudes I want to give some love to today. Dudes like:

This adorable little bearded guy I always see asking for change from the cars that are stopped at the Queen Street light. Tiny little guy, always in a hoodie and sometimes in women’s jeans, he definitely lives rough. And yet, for a guy who doesn’t appear to have a home, he seems so chill. Anytime he sees me he slowly outstretches his arms and yells, “Dream Woman! How are you baby?” The odd time he throws a marriage proposal at me, and I always say, “Not today, maybe tomorrow!” Love that fuckin guy.

There’s this really sweet ginger guy in the hood who definitely does have a home and I occasionally catch him walking his Rodheshian Ridgeback on our block. He’s like the friendliest guy on the planet; always flashes the biggest smile at me, stops to chat, and always holds his hand over his chest when he says it’s great to see me. Love that move.

Then there’s Jamie, this rough looking Peter Pan type guy who always rides up alongside me on his bike and gives me some ridiculously excessive compliment on my appearance. He reminds me of all the troublemakers I knew from the wrong side of the tracks in Peterborough. Not sure if he’s homeless but there’s a roughness to him, for sure. Has the energy of a guy in his twenties but he told me one day he’s 40 and has three kids. You can see on his face he’s lived a rough life, but it doesn’t stop him from being the fucking highlight of my day sometimes. He hits on me every single time he sees me, but he’s got that rare quality that somehow keeps him from being creepy. He’s always very clear about how much he worships me, but he does it in a way that makes me feel respected, and amused. And honestly, some days, it makes me feel loved, when I really fucking need it.

A couple of dudes have actually had the balls to genuinely ask me out on a date, and they deserve all the props. Not just for asking me out, but for weathering my ultra-awkward response. One guy who lives on my block asked me out a while ago and even though I turned him down he’s still so cute and sweet to me. A constant reminder of what a pussy I am. Some other guy just asked me out the other day and while I was incredibly touched that he did so, I just couldn’t get past his truly dreadful tattoo sleeve. I know that sounds shallow but BRO. Trust me, you’d agree. His continued sweetness upon seeing me is also a constant reminder of my cursed pickiness.

There’s this guy named Dave who has been singlehandedly keeping my author goal alive, unbeknownst to him. He’s old enough to my grandfather, has long white hair and a white beard and is usually in some sort of plaid. He’s a regular at the bar around the corner from my place, and when I spent a year editing my book there, he would (in a non-creepy way) always notice me. He seemed endlessly curious about what I was writing about, inspired by my commitment to the task, and eventually got in the habit of scribbling down funny/inspiring quotes about writing, and he’d give them to me on post-it notes. Then one day he gave me a stained-glass butterfly that he made himself, all because he felt inspired by me. Jesus, Dave! I don’t go to the bar anymore on account of this hooch hiatus, but I still see him around the hood every now and again, and sometimes he’ll have a post-it quote for me. The best one he ever gave me said: You write so beautifully. Your mind must be a terrible place! I love the quote but what I love more is that someone wanted me to have it.

There’s this one guy whom I’ve never spoken to, and even though he’s super, SUPER cute (in a white t-shirt, blue collar kind of way), I kind of don’t want him to ever talk to me. We pass each other on the sidewalk maybe once every few weeks, and we always smile at each other, but we never say anything. And it’s not just a cordial neighbour smile, there’s a little something extra there. I assume the cute assessment is mutual. I can feel it in the smile. But I’d like to leave the non-verbal nature of our acquaintance as is. I love it and I don’t want it to be ruined by actually knowing each other.

Upon reflection there are just too many boyz in this hood to list in one blog post. This dog of mine has me walking around Parkdale for three hours every day of my life, and every day one of these dudes gives me just a little something to keep the spirit going. And they’re proof that you don’t really have to know someone to love them. Especially if they call me Dream Woman every day.

[electriccenturypl]

“A drug and alcohol addiction after MCR split only made his side project Electric Century harder to handle – then Way learned to close the door on a dark chapter.

All the best bands are a ragtag bunch: The Beatles, Oasis, Spice Girls. A collection of weird and wonderful characters, the magic of a timeless musical group comes from their collective identity, Avengers-style, and My Chemical Romance were no exception. The ringleaders of late 00s emo were fronted by iconic, hair dye-wielding singer Gerard Way – a camp, glam-gone-gothic figure who could switch from whispered confessions to blood-curdling howls in seconds. He came backed by guitarists Frank Iero and Ray Toro, punk rock's prince and fretboard nerd respectively. And then there was bassist Mikey Way.

Perpetually shadowy and often sporting emo-staple horn-rimmed glasses, Mikey was MCR's mysterious heartthrob; the quiet yin to his brother Gerard's mad hatter yang. He became something of an anti-hero for many of the band's followers, his quiet demeanour perfectly aping the fragile, teenage anxieties much of their fanbase were battling with. But there was a more troubling edge to Mikey's introspection, hidden behind the eyeliner and that perfectly swooped fringe.

Self-medicating with drugs and alcohol to treat paralysing stage fright and help compartmentalise MCR's anxiety-inducing agenda in the wake of The Black Parade's explosive success , he soon found solace in slinking ever further into the shadows. Mikey became drug-dependent quickly, saying in a Kerrang!interview ahead of MCR's 2011 Reading & Leeds headline slot that he saw intoxication as "a means to an end", cocktailing drugs to both help him to get up on stage, and come down in the aftermath. His sole source of constant light through it all was long-time friend, Sleep Station vocalist and New London Fire figurehead Dave Debiak. The voice notes they sent each other back and forth became a near-decade long exchange of musical ideas for Electric Century, a barely-existent side project Mikey could never find the time for.

Despite living on opposite coasts, Mikey and Dave remain thick as thieves. "We text about music, and life, all day long," Mikey says today, across a patchy transatlantic phone line. Now, he's a notably more chipper character than the one portrayed in his MCR days, peppering his stories with a lively giggle and an almost childlike enthusiasm. His relationship with Dave kick-started at a pre-MCR barbecue held by Dave's brother Marc (former owner of MCR's first record label, Eyeball), where the pair bonded immediately over a mutual love of new wave, post-punk and Britpop. Even now, they share memories of early Duran Duran and Missing Persons shows, and a joint childhood dream of "being Simon Le Bon". "It kinda went from there," Mikey smiles, "We became fast friends, I became a fan of his music, and I was like, 'Man, if I ever want to do a side-project one day, this is the dude I would do it with'."

Electric Century's debut album For The Night To Control is the result of that longstanding friendship. A full-hearted embrace of those early influences, it's a who's-who of late 80s references, sweeping through sultry pop and onto the grittier gloom of new wave. With that joint dream of being Simon Le Bon come to fruition, you can hear the pair's half a lifetime of shared experience throughout – every twist and turn feels like second nature, evidence of a semi-telepathic bond between the two friends.

Before all that could form, though, Mikey hit crisis point. The effects of spending several life-changing years in one of the world's biggest rock bands and the major label "machine" that comes with it began to manifest. Long-standing drug use and a relentless schedule came to a head with the dissolution of My Chemical Romance in 2013. Unable to find an off-switch when things went from 100 to nil, Mikey instead threw himself into his sidelined project without a moment's pause. Struggling with overdoses and failing relationships throughout MCR's latter years, Mikey nevertheless insisted he still had so much to say, but launching straight into Electric Century only exacerbated the problems he was trying to ignore. "I had done MCR for 12 years straight, so I was very much in the 'let's go' mode," he says now. "I didn't want to take a break, I wanted to go right into it." It was a self-destructive measure that led to "complete burnout", he's quick to share. "I was emotionally drained – I was barely human at that time."

It took Dave's intervention to finally drag Mikey out of the shadows. Calling him out to the US' East Coast in February 2014 on the pretence of a recording session, Dave instead spent the time during Mikey's flight phoning every local rehab facility to find one that'd take his friend in. "When he arrived, I just got him in the car and was like, 'Yeah, we're not recording. We're going to rehab'," Dave says. Mikey didn't put up a fight. "He's done so well," Dave continues, "because he definitely knew that he needed the help – it wasn't something that he was in denial of. He was in full agreement that shit needed to change."

And so on the day Electric Century were granted their first magazine cover byAlternative Press, Mikey covertly checked himself into a month-plus stint in rehab. In his stead, Electric Century released just one track, "I Lied", which itself reads like a confession of guilt: "Everything that's weak goes through the window / I gently fill my veins, watching all the doors close."

What followed was a steady road to recovery. All music took a backseat, and Mikey wasn't even sure he'd be able to write again, sober. "I was used to being a certain way when I wrote music," he tells me, of how drug use felt an intrinsic part of his creative process. "I was usually medicated on some level." With Mikey newly sober for the first time in decades, Electric Century sat dormant once more, their hastily-assembled, almost-there debut album For The Night To Control existing as little more than files on a laptop for seven months – a memoir of a dark period Mikey would rather forget. "There's something in me I could never trust ," warns "Until The Light Goes Out On Me", while closer "Live When We Die" practically begs for redemption: "Wrapped up in the comfort of your love / Don't come undone ."

"You can really tell, like, 'That guy's going through something'," Mikey says of the record's subject matter, with a laugh. Flippant though he may be about their first LP, there's no denying its power as a tool of healing. While Mikey worked on rebuilding his personal life, Dave returned to New London Fire. "The healing that needed to take place," Dave says, "the band had to be secondary to that. It's not on the top list of priorities, when you're dealing with getting well." That seems a common sense attitude now, perhaps, but a world away from the relentless, major label "machine" that Mikey says he was trapped in during his darkest moments.

One day, though, that electric feel came flooding back. Digging out For The Night To Control, Mikey found himself inspired once more by the music they'd created. Months spent watching Gerard Way's solo career and Frank Iero's various new projects from the crowd had lit the spark – "I got to watch my brother do his thing, and I got to watch Frank do his thing, and they're fuckin' legends. It was fuckin' awesome!" – and now, the time felt right. Linking up once more in upstate New York come late 2014, they finally finished a story that had started back at the turn of the millennium.

For The Night To Control is a world away from Mikey's past endeavours. Sprawling synths draw on those gloomy, new wave influences like never before, and the bark of My Chemical Romance has been replaced with a more glistening bite. It's a whole different side to the goth kid's coin – a full-stop on a dark chapter of his life. Mikey is quick to downplay any suggestion that he might regret those years at the top, though, and keen to emphasise the importance of MCR's golden years.

"What we had done was once in a lifetime, and I'm thankful for it. That's why I look back and I'm not frustrated – I'm like, 'Dude, what we did? That doesn't happen.' Any amount of time that it existed was fine by me. Just to be there, I was thankful, and just to be able to be part of that was a dream. If it lasted five years or 12 years, it's all icing on the cake to me."

These days, Mikey and Dave have swapped prescription drugs for pancakes at a local diner as the precursor to their writing sessions. Mikey's spark has returned, too, due in no small part to a baby daughter, born this past May. The pair enthuse about "two more albums' worth" of demos and recordings they're now sat on, and talk feverishly about their complex plans for an upcoming duo of debut live shows. There's an energy and excitement that couldn't feel further from the gaunt, bass-toting mope Mikey once was known as. "I feel like the glue is set amongst the pieces now," he says, the caricature of his dark days at last a distant memory. "I feel like a complete person."

Photo credit: Jason Debiak.

Follow Tom on Twitter.” - noisey

[sapphiregoggles22]

Dave

What a charismatic, charming, and incredibly handsome man. He knows exactly what to say. He’s straight forward in the most sexy ways. He tells me exactly what he’ll do to me and when. I get hooked. We set up a date and all of a sudden he gets sick and now it’s been a month since we started talking and now the conversation has changed to demanding more pics and videos and less about telling me what I want to hear. He won’t schedule another date with me. He’s too busy. He tells me there’s been girls to wait 2 years for him. I’m not one. I’m not that desparate. I’m in a special season of my life that I just wanna bang out a few guys. I didn’t plan on nor did I even want to prolong this relationship longer than it needed to be. He uses me for attention and likes that I feed his ego. I’m feeling like I’m clogging his inbox and incoming calls. I’d hate to get in his way. I’m obviously not on that VIP list and to be honest I don’t care to be anymore. If he wanted to see me we would have already met. My mind comes up with every excuse in his favor. He’s just really busy. He had 32 messages when he got off of work. He’s grinding and learning how to be a good realtor and balance his personal life with it. But Lauren. Sex takes an hour max. I don’t want to be romanced. I don’t want to be wined and dined. I just want his dick. That’s all I want. I don’t want anything else. He’s sharp in that he’s just so demanding of what he wants from me. But he’s also caring “I completely understand where you’re coming from and I’m so sorry to hear that” “how was your day today?” “Send nudes when you get home so I know you’re safe” he has a heart. He cares at least a little bit. Or maybe he wants me to think that. This man makes me crazy and all I want to do is fuck him but the issue is that he doesn’t have that same desire for me so you need to let him go and let him grow into the person he wants to be. Idk why he’s stringing you along if he says he’s a straight forward person. He’s not. He may want to fuck, but it’s not a priority to him. He seems to be your drug tho. Will you respond to him accordingly if he contacts you? It’s not his style to reach out. He wants to attention to come from you. Let him go babe. You did your motha fuckin best.

Manny

Manny seemed to have fallen head over heels in love with you at first contact. He said he wanted either a Latina girl or an asian girl and here alone am, both. He tells me he’s afraid of falling and I tell him I just want a friend. He seems really dissatisfied with this. But I assure him that I’d still give him intimate time. He’s kind of like “whatever” he sends me voice memos and is probably the sweetest man ever to me. He tells me how beautiful I am. He speaks to me in Spanish and in Tagalog. We agree he’d teach me. He texts me first thing in the morning for a solid week. It’s like I’m the first person he thinks of when he wakes up. It’s nice to think about. I like feeling special like that. I explore the idea of a relationship with him. In my mind only. I tell no one and I dare not tell him. I quickly realize I just really don’t want anyone distracting me from my goals and journey to self love and knowing how much working on a relationship takes turns me off from a relationship not only with just him, but with anyone. “We’ll see where it goes” no we won’t. I’m only a friend. He really helped me when chris rocked my world. Offered me his ear for the night and a pizza. He offered to beat his ass. It was the sweetest gesture ever. We schedule a date to meet. He continues his sweet talk, his morning texts and goodnight texts too. We have phone sex. We have fun. He asks me my life goals. Date day comes and he tells me he’s sick and that his phone has been messing up. Wow, I’ve heard this before. I snap back at him. He completely misses what I’m trying to say. I ignore him because I’m annoyed as hell. I don’t talk to him all weekend. Monday comes and I feel bad. He was so sweet to you. There’s no way he’s lying. I’m his dream girl. I send him a good morning text and try messaging him sporadically throughout the day. He seems to still be interested. But he’s not giving me the same attention. But he’s sick right? Maybe he’s just sleeping a lot. He sends me an audio message. He sounds sick AF. I immediately regret accusing him of lying to me. But he still doesn’t give me the same attention. Attention is all I crave. I spent 7 years of my life being romantically ignored. I hate this feeling. I start sending him more and more things. Texts. Pics. He seems to still like me. But he still doesn’t give me the attention I want. He sends me intimate pics. Maybe you’re overthinking this. He like loves you, Lauren. Today he posts a SC story that he has a coffee tip from Starbucks. He doesn’t sound sick at all. And he’s drinking coffee and out of bed and in his car. I only heard from him this morning and from when I sent a pic. What the heck is going on. I guess I’ll find out soon. I have a feeling he’s either losing interest or hates the fact that I won’t give him a relationship and so doesn’t want to give me that attention I want. I almost want to ask. I’m so damn needy.

Leo

I talked to Leo twice before giving him my number. I ask if he has a SC and he says no. He messages me worrying that I’m not who I say I am and I have the same concern. I ask him about SC and he tells me his handle. I’m frustrated that he didn’t tell me before. I tell him I want to video chat him. We do. We find that we’re real people. We schedule a date to meet. He brings his moms car and we watch movies and smoke weed together. He starts feeling me up. I like this. We start making out. His mouth tastes like weed and I don’t like this. But his mouth is super soft and his lips and tongue just know what to do. It’s really hot but the weed taste is a huge turn off. Well we move to the bed and he starts eating me out and it really sucks. But I’m like a new boy is touching me. Holy moly. He tells me to eat him and he’s completely limp. It’s so disappointing. But I suck and it’s becoming slowly harder. Slowly. His balls are hairy and gross but this what he likes. We 69. It still sucks for me but I’m getting somewhere with him. Little by little. Then we start fucking and it’s different bc he’s new to me. But I don’t trust him bc he refuses a condom and tells me he’d pull out. I don’t like it but I do it anyways. He tells me he’s only been with one girl. I trust him in the moment. He cums and it’s anticlimactic. We move back to the couch. He tells me he has to go home to take the car back to his mom so I let him leave. He tells me he wants to hang again but that I’d have to pick him up. I wanted to get laid more so I go and pick him up. It’s Sunday. I have work in the morning. This is crazy. I pick him up and our conversation is pretty good. We watch more movies at my house and we hit the bong. We cuddle and make out and start fucking again. This time I’m on top for literally 30 mins and I’m bruising my leg from his bony ass hip bones cutting into my thigh. This is becoming unpleasant for me. This is not what I want. I’m hot as hell bc my ac doesn’t work. I stop everything to put my hair up. He sits on the couch waiting for me to get back. We watch the movie and I start tickling around his balls and inner thigh area. He seems to really like this shit. I play with it for maybe 3 minutes and then he tells me to suck him off and I do only once and then he tells me to get in top of him and we fuck for a little bit and then he cums. Geez. All that work. So weird. Then I start falling asleep and I offer to take him home. No he doesn’t want to go home. I fall asleep again and woke up and offer him a ride home again and he says no. So I tell him I want to go to bed and he comes with me. We fall asleep and I wake up and we have sex again but this time his balls smell like actual onions. So disgusting. So I get fucking out of the way and thank God he cums so I take his ass home and I don’t ever want to see him again. But he keeps hitting me up and I know he’s being genuine when he says he misses me. So this kinda sucks.

:(

[goddamnedamericanjedi]

Classic Rock Magazine Interview With Sebastian Bach

SEBASTIAN BACH          © Dave Ling - December 2002       

  It wasn’t the greeting that worried me. During the 13 years that I’ve been interviewing Sebastian Bach, there have been a variety of headlocks and bear hugs. Fortunately, today it’s just a super-firm handshake. Although in the past he’s spat huge globules of phlegm across the room to express disgust at certain subjects, and once even called to talk on a mobile phone whilst taking a piss, neither was I overly concerned about the former Skid Row frontman’s behavior during our encounter.

My biggest reservation was how this particular conversation might conclude. Last time we spoke face-to-face, during a press tour for Skid Row’s 1995 album ‘Subhuman Race’, matters concluded prematurely after I stated the journalistic consensus that the album was considerably below par. “We’ll see who’s still doing this in ten years time,” raged Seb with a face like thunder, before booting the back of my chair, storming from the room and cancelling the rest of his interviews for the day.

That decade he referred to isn’t yet up, but thankfully we’re both still here. “What you said back then hurt so much because I considered a writer like you, who’d written a lot of our early press, to represent the British media,” confides Bach while preparing for Classic Rock’s photo session. “It was hard to take, dude.”

The Canadian had joined Skid Row after being spotted jamming at the wedding of photographer Mark Weiss, and a support spot on Bon Jovi’s ‘New Jersey’ tour gave the fledgling quintet their breakthrough.

Unfortunately, Bach’s dark side was soon revealed and he claimed to have “punched the shit out of Jon, decked him on his fat little ass” when a dispute about a contract Skid Row had signed with Bon Jovi’s Underground publishing company was leaked to the press.

Seb’s wild man credentials were further emphasized by a string of antics, some amusing and some irresponsible. He wiped his derriere on a copy of the Daily Star at Docklands Arena (his tackle flying free in the process) and incurred a lifetime ban at Wembley through playing the song ‘Get The Fuck Out’ when warned not to. Even more regrettably, however, he also wore a T-shirt emblazoned with the slogan ‘Aids Kills Faggots’, and in front of MTV’s cameras threw a glass bottle back into a Massachusetts crowd after it had hit him on the head. A female 14-year-old required 125 stitches.

Finally, Skid Row’s patience snapped, and the relative failure of ‘Subhuman Race’ enabled them to dismiss Bach at the end of 1996. The last time he spoke to Classic Rock, in Issue 13, Sebastian claimed to have no idea why he’d been ‘let go’, adding ruefully: “I’ll never understand why we dropped the ball.” Now a solo artist, his 1999 album ‘Bring ‘Em Bach Alive’ has just been reissued, and Bach has a variety of projects on the go.

DL. You’re here for an appearance on the Never Mind The Buzzcocks, the BBC1 game show. Do you know much about British pop music?            SB. Ha ha… no. Well, Iron Maiden had a No 1 record, so that’s pop music, right?

DL. So how will you act when they inevitably take the piss, as they did to Megadeth’s Dave Mustaine and Bruce Dickinson from Iron Maiden?            SB. I’ve been on that show twice in America, but the American version flopped - hopefully that wasn’t my fault. I don’t know how a host on British game show could go after me… they’re the retarded ones for paying me $1,800 to come over for 45 minutes work. Dude, everyone says he’s gonna be horrible, but I’ll show him fuckin’ horrible! I can rewrite the fuckin’ level of horrible. I’ll give him a taste of horror.

DL. You recently posted an extremely touching tribute to your father, David Bierk, at your website. Which characteristics good or bad did you inherit from your parents?            SB. My dad was a painter who had shows all over the biggest galleries in New York. Elton John, Bon Jovi, Axl Rose and Gene Simmons all bought his paintings. He just let me know that nothing was impossible. My intensity, the way I talk, he made me realize that singing wasn’t a vocational choice, it was a life choice.            My only regret is that I’ve been on the road from the age of 13 to now, aged 34, and I missed out on so much family life. I never just got a bowl of popcorn, sat down with my dad and watched the TV. He told me on his deathbed, ‘Everybody in this world is too busy’. I’d say to readers of this magazine, if you’ve got somebody - whether it’s your brother, your mom or sister - just enjoy life with them for just a fuckin’ second, because I look back and God… [trails off].

DL. Since being kicked out of Skid Row in 1996 you’ve spread your wings into TV presenting and appearing in the Broadway versions of Jekyll & Hyde and The Rocky Horror Show.            SB. One of my idols, Geoff Tate [of Queensrÿche], keeps calling and asking how I got onto Broadway. The honest truth is that Broadway came to me. I never in a million years thought I’d have the braincells left to memorise the Jekyll & Hyde script. I shit you not, it’s like War And Peace. How it happened was that Jason Flom at Atlantic signed Skid Row in 1987, and Atlantic also has a theatre division. Jason called and said I had the meanest voice and the personality to do it, and believe me when I was Edward Hyde I became Edward Hyde. It was cool music, I swear, some of it’s like ‘Sad Wings Of Destiny’ [the 1976 Judas Priest album].

DL. When a woman in the first row handed you a rose, you bit the head off. Why did you do that?            SB. It was my way of saying, ‘I’m on Broadway, but I’m still Sebastian Bach’.

DL. By the time this article is printed, you will be on a year-long US tour playing the lead character in Jesus Christ Superstar.            SB. Andrew Lloyd Webber requested a stack of Skid Row CDs, and all my pictures, I swear to God. And he came back and said, ‘Hello, is Jesus Christ there?’, so he made the decision.

DL. Some might say that this is a role you’ve spent your life rehearsing for.            SB. [Sounding slightly hurt]: I must be a fucking moron. I never thought you would’ve said that, dude. Sometimes I’m so confused by other people’s perception of me.

DL. Well, they say that you’re an egomaniac.            SB. Dude, you have to be on of those to go on stage. What do you want to see, some fucking guy singing [in nerdy, apologetic voice]: ‘We are the youth gone wild’? If I didn’t have my ego I wouldn’t be doing it. I don’t think it’s misplaced though, I hope not. I wake up every day and hope I’m gonna have a great day, be the nicest guy ever. But if someone’s a dick to me, I’m gonna be a fuckin’ dick back to them.

DL. You’re an ass-kicking rock dude from the 80s that’s now playing Jesus. Could you imagine Axl or Vince Neil doing the same thing?            SB. Absolutely not, and that’s not a slight against them, Axl has already proved he can’t be on time. I love Axl Rose, but let me get this through everybody’s head: we’re talking eight shows a week for 42 weeks. That’s tough work.

DL. Would you someday like to follow your old rival Jon Bon Jovi into the movies?            SB. I don’t differentiate ‘movies’ or ‘Broadway’, what I care about is presenting my fans with something that entertains. And if I’m entertained by it my fans will be, too. So if I got a great film role, yeah, cool.

DL. What do you think of Jon’s acting abilities? And would he work you him in an acting role if the part demanded it?            SB. I’ve never seen him really act. There was one movie where he was a pot dealer, and I saw a little bit of that, but he’s a very good actor because he doesn’t smoke pot! I did have acrimony towards Jon for years, but on my Forever Wild TV show I interviewed Tico Torres [Bon Jovi drummer], we played ‘Lay Your Hands On Me’, had a brew at the bar and talked about the old days. All I was ever mad at Jon for was to let me have my own life. That was it. Please, I don’t need someone to hold my fucking hand.

DL. We didn’t get to see your VH1 rock show Forever Wild before it was cancelled back in April. Care to tell us about it?            SB. It was kinda obscure, I got to go through the VH1 vaults and pick the videos. We had ‘You Really Got Me’ by Van Halen on the first show, and W.A.S.P.’s ‘I Wanna Be Somebody’… but it was my show!

DL. That explains why it ran for just five months.            SB. Yeah, but it was fun. I got to go to Ted Nugent’s 200-acre farm and shoot wild boar, and eat it, of course. I went car racing with Vince Neil and golfing with Tommy Lee. I was in the studio with Rob Halford while he was recording the song ‘Crucible’… waaaaaah! It was 16 episodes, which was twice as long as the [first series of] The Osbournes. Maybe a fifth of the people watched it, but it was a midnight rock show.            They offered me another show, at four in the afternoon, but they would be picking the videos and it was cheesy things like Quiet Riot, stuff to laugh at. I will not make fun of heavy metal, or patronize people.

DL. You then resurfaced on - of all things - the Learning Channel’s The New Sideshow, which was described as “a not-for-the-weak-of-heart documentary on today’s more outrageous carnival acts” that included human pincushion The Impaler. Do you do these unusual things to keep you in the public eye, or because you enjoy them?            Of course because I enjoy them… doh! Let me offer this piece of advice, I’ve not changed my home phone number since 1989. Never make yourself too inaccessible, it’s good for business when people know where you are. I wake up, press play and it’s, ‘Hey Sebastian, do you want to do this?”… next message, ‘Hey Sebastian, how about this?’            You just have to play the cards that are dealt you, it’s a very different world than it was. I’m in this to sing, so if I can get my voice heard in whatever fashion then that’s what I’ll do. Ozzy is the most famous he’s ever been, not because of his music but because of a fucking TV show. I’m not being flown over to England to sing, I’m being flown over to go on a gameshow. That is fucked. What you also have to consider is that the venues I’ll be playing Jesus Christ in are the same ones that Skid Row headlined for ‘Slave To The Grind’ tour… the Paramount in Seattle, the Fox in Atlanta. But instead of doing one show, I’m now doing eight shows in the same venue. So I’ve finally topped what I did in the past.

DL. C’mon, you must admit you’d rather be coming here to play rock music?            SB. I’ve just saw in your magazine that Alex Lifeson says no British promoter wants Rush. Hey, I’ve been asking British promoters since 1996 to come over and they just laugh! I’ve done two full American tours, 104 shows on the first tour, 90 shows on the second, a sold-out tour of Japan. I’m dying to play here, man, but the offers they give me are like… restaurants! Don’t you have to suck first? I’ve never played England and flopped - not fucking once! Thank God for the USA.

DL. You just mentioned The Osbournes. Can you imagine the footage MTV would have got if they’d followed you around in 1992?            SB. Ha ha ha, there wouldn’t have been a TV show made out of it. You couldn’t air it. But there seems to be a perception that as soon as we woke up and did drugs and drank, and that’s not true. I never did a show drunk - ever.

DL. Am I right in thinking you’ve cut out most of those antics?            SB. I hate that shit, I’ve not done a line [of coke] since 1993. I have no desire to. A part of me still has that personality when I get too sad, when my dad died I was drinking way too much, but just beer. Back in those days everybody was fucking doing it, you were the weirdo if you weren’t.

DL. You were recently involved in what was dramatically reported as “making terroristic threats” to a New Jersey bartender who refused to let you take your drink outside his club, then for having marijuana and rolling papers on you when you were arrested.            SB. I’d been shooting an episode of Forever Wild with Vince Neil, who’s always a bad influence on me; they talk about the bad boys of rock, I’m like Queen Elizabeth compared to Vince. But there’s a side of me that can get down and dirty. I was with Vince for a week down on south beach in Miami, waking up each morning and just getting ripped. When I got back to New Jersey, my chick was giving me shit on the phone because she wanted to party with Mötley Crüe. And I was like, ‘Babe, it’s my job, I get paid to party with the Crüe. This is how I feed our kids, so let me party with the Crüe, you stay home and everything’ll be fine’. And she was like, ‘Grrrrrrrrr’. So I go, ‘Fuck you, I’m not coming home’ and tell the limo driver to turn around because we’re going to Broadway.            I get a hotel suite and get VH1 to pay for it, order up fucking booze and some other things, and all my friends come over to party. I stayed there for like two days, until she called and was nice to me. It’s a two hour limo drive home and by then I’m so fuckin’ drunk, my chick gives me a little bit of shit. So I take a bunch of Molsons [beers] and walk to this bar, I never drive while drunk. I’ve been going to this bar for 12 years and all these chicks, dudes and businessmen are excited to see me, so then I’m holding court. This guy suggests we go outside and bust a joint, but the bartender says he’s gonna call the police if I take my beer - I told him to go ahead. He fucking rails me, punches me right in the fucking head and I freaked out, so I tackled him around the waist brought him into the one wall, stood on his neck and said, ‘I’ll fucking kill you, mutherfucker’. The whole bar was freaked out, but he threw the first punch. I had a couple of joints in my pocket, so I got busted for marijuana. And the next day’s headline was, ‘Sebastian Bach Busted For Drugs And Terroristic Threats’. Dionne Warwick was arrested for having seven marijuana cigarettes, and I had a joint… someday maybe I can be as wild as Dionne fuckin’ Warwick. What fuckin’ bullshit.

DL. If Skid Row came back to you - and I stress those four words - would you someday agree to rejoin them?            SB. It’d all depend on the music, that’s the only reason I joined them in the first place. But Rachel [Bolan, bass] and Snake [guitar] were the best fucking songwriters I ever fuckin’ met, and they just don’t do it anymore. Anyone can go on the internet and find out what happened between me and the guys, just download the Ozone Monday record [make with singer Sawn McCabe]. That was supposed to be the fourth Skid Row record. The reason I’m not singing on it is that it fucking sucks! I mean, Andrew Lloyd Webber or Ozone Monday? Well [chuckles maliciously]…

“Kids think that music is free. My 14-year-old son downloads Arch Enemy and Cradle of Filth songs and I’m the asshole dad who says, ‘Bands worked really hard on those’”

DL. Do you even have any interest in hearing ‘Thick Is The Skin’, the album they’ve made with your replacement, Johnny Sollinger?            SB. No. But what fucking year will it come out. Those guys have been saying, ‘We got a whole album done’. Well, let’s fuckin’ hear it. I’m giving you two fucking albums, I’m giving you three fucking musicals, five tours. I’ve got nothing to hide, dude. You may not even like ‘…Bach Alive’, but at least I’m delivering product.

DL. Why do you feel that the band made such a phenomenal early impact, from the Marquee to Hammersmith Odeon in a matter of months?  SB. Just the songs and the way we attacked our music. Revolver magazine recently said Skid Row was one of the best metal albums of all time because they played a song like ‘Youth Gone Wild’ like they were playing ‘Angel Of Death’ by Slayer.            Would they be so successful now? In the year 2002 kids think that music is free. My 14-year-old son spends all day downloading Arch Enemy and Cradle of Filth and I’m the asshole dad who has to say, ‘You shouldn’t be making those CDs, those bands worked really hard on those’. He looks at me like, ‘What the fuck is your problem?’            I get like emails that say, ‘Sebastian, I went to five shops looking for ‘Bring ‘Em Bach Alive’ and couldn’t find it, but I downloaded it and it fucking rocks, dude’. One the one hand I wanna go, ‘Thanks man’, and on the other hand I wanna hold my head in my hands, but everybody’s in that same situation.

DL. So you were in agreement with Lars Ulrich on the Napster issue?            SB. Oh, definitely. I even did this CD called ‘Bach To Basics’ because somebody told me to go onto Napster and when I saw what Sebastian Bach stuff was available I almost fuckin’ committed suicide. The whole The Last Hard Men CD was there, before I even fuckin’ played it for my friends. So I ripped my own CD off Napster and now I sell it on the web.

DL. The last time we were in a room together you lost your temper in a row over ‘Subhuman Race’. Can you now stand back a bit and understand why fans felt it wasn’t as good as the first two?            SB. Yeah, but how can a writer say what a record should sound like when they’re not even in the band? What I find humorous is that nobody liked that record, but 12 years later we’re still talking about that fucking record. When I hear ‘Subhuman Race’ now I hear more Bob Rock [producer], because he did the same thing as he did on Metallica’s ‘Load’. He changed things. I remember him saying, ‘Everybody knows you can scream, Sebastian’, and suggesting I sing like Scott Weiland [of Stone Temple Pilots]. Why don’t you just take a thoroughbred racehorse and hit him on the fuckin’ kneecap with a baseball bat? I do like that album, but it’s not a fun record. ‘Youth Gone Wild’ was fun.

DL. Let’s imagine you can go back in time and change three events in your life. If you don’t mind, I’d like to guess that they would be: a) signing away such a large percentage of your royalties to Jon Bon Jovi, b) the bottle-throwing incident and c), not having hit Jon harder. Am I right?            SB. Awww, I have more good memories of Bon Jovi than bad ones now. I’ve bashed Jon relentlessly in the past, but I don’t feel that way any more. When I think of those times when I was touring with Bon Jovi and living at his house for two weeks… okay, maybe the deal we signed wasn’t the most equitable of all time, but it’s possible that if we hadn’t, you might never have heard of me. And I respect his tenacity in an industry that devours its young and old alike.            So to answer your question… I did wear a really ridiculous T-shirt, and I can’t believe I’m bringing it up again, but it was really rotten, really stupid. And the bottle throwing thing, yeah, I’d change that. Then again, if somebody cracks you in the head with a bottle, what do you do? You ain’t thinking rationally. If somebody hit me with a bottle in the head again I’d probably knock the fuck right out of them.

DL. You even turned down Playgirl?            SB. Twice. I already get known for things other than my voice, like my hair or going to jail or whatever, and I want to be known as a singer. That means more to me than anything.

Apart from your Broadway activities, what’s the delay in following up ‘Bring ‘Em Bach Alive’?            Atlantic Records signed me in 1987 and they still have first right of refusal [on my work]. ‘Bring ‘Em Bach Alive’ has the Atlantic logo and the Spitfire logo because Atlantic technically owns Sebastian Bach, and they license to certain territories where Atlantic didn’t put it out - including Britain, because Mary Hooton, my great friend, fucking rejected the fucking record.The next record will be done when it’s done. I want to deliver a product that’ll get the proper exposure; I don’t want it coming out three years later in one country than another. I’m doing it, but the fans have to realise how the internet has taken the wind out of the sails of the music industry. There’s always trepidation and anticipation about delivering a CD in this climate.

DL. How do you think you’ll feel aged 65 with 'Youth Gone Wild' tattooed on your arm? SB. I’ll just get “I was the” tattooed on my bicep. Right up here, dude. I got that space reserved.

 P.S. Dave says...          

Larger than life and twice as unpredictable, Sebastian Bach has now been out of Skid Row since 23rd December, 1996, the day that co-founding guitarist Dave ‘Snake’ Sabo sacked him after receiving a torrent of hate in answerphone form. The parting of ways between singer and the New Jersey band had been a long time coming. Notorious for short-fuse temper as for chiseled cheekbones and multi-octave voice, Bach drove the group’s instrumentalists mental but was accommodated by the rest of Skid Row for as long as their patience would stand. Post-Skids, Bach hasn’t exactly stuck to the traditional route. He acted in the musical versions of Jekyll & Hyde and Jesus Christ Superstar and went on to appear in various TV shows, though age and luvviedom have failed to mellow him. Sebastian recently completed a whirlwind tour of the UK and a new album – his first set of all-new solo material – is due next year. (17th December, 2004)

[themockingcrows]

Companionship Through Circuitry Ch. 3: Uploading

Not all uploads are created equal. Bro/Hal Also available on AO3!

    Upload me, Bro.

    “Don’t you need a stronger interface than that? Would you even work with that thing?”

    I was designed to functionally overwrite data when necessary, and if that means re-writing the code of a simple wrecker then so be it. Upload me.

    Bro sighed a bit. He had his reservations now that he was starting to get used to Hal’s voice and attitude, and the concept of potentially losing him because he didn’t want to take a lengthy detour was kind of obnoxious. But hey, what did he know, he was just a post-war guy taking directions from an AI who seemed to know his own capabilities far better. Against his better judgement, Bro took the shades off of his face and fished out the connection cable, following Hal’s advice to locate where an entry port could be positioned based on the make and model of the machinery at hand.

    The massive structure was meant to replace cranes for more basic movements, the continuous track treads far superior to wheels and the mobility vastly improved. The behemoth whirred to life a few moments after Ambrose finished the upload cycle, glasses still gently dangling by their cord till he ducked forward and tucked them somewhere less conspicuous. The droid moved its appendages, orienting itself as Hal took control and sussed out the operational maneuvers for each piece. It was a strangely human motion, the sensors of the face looking down at the pincer hands before giving them a whirl and twirl, clicking them together a few times to gauge the pressure.

    Right. Step back.

    Thank fuck this was temporary. Hearing the modulation of Hal’s voice was jarring, booming and decidedly electric from the audio core even with its damage and residue. When he stood fully upright, many times taller than Ambrose, it was with the soft screech of abused metal and rust. This wasn’t going to last forever, but it should last long enough to move a few barriers out of the way. Hal whirred forward excitedly and clasped both pincers into the edge of a stacked vehicle long since crashed, tugging it a few times before the body gave way to motion and the entire pile began to move. Ambrose wasn’t certain what all would be beyond where they could see, but he had a feeling that getting through the blockade would open up some options.

    Or, you know, trap him underground to die a horrible death. But who’s keeping track of anything, right?

    With much whirring and churning metal, Hal eventually moved several wrecked cars that had acted as a barricade between them and the rest of the bridge that seemed sturdy enough to cross as far as he could see. So the asphalt was gone in a few places, the girders and skeletal aspects of the bridge were still plenty intact for a man and a pair of sunglasses to pass unhindered so long as they didn’t gain too much attention. Or at least got away from the ruckus of attention they were currently causing right now.

    I changed my mind, can I stay in this longer?

    “No. You cleared the junk and I can cross now, get back in the glasses so we can leave,” Bro said, already sensing where this was going.

    What if there’s more junk on the other side of the bridge? Or in the center? Wouldn’t it be handy to have someone who would be able to move it easier? Hal asked, giving his hands another whirr for emphasis as if Bro could have somehow forgotten the difference between a set of pointed shades as a fully fledged wrecker droid.

    “I said no. How much power does that thing have left anyways?”

    Enough to enjoy getting over the bridge in style.

    “And if I don’t feel like travelin’ with a gigantic fuckin’ target on my back?” Bro asked. “What then, hm? Everything in a mile prolly heard all this noise, you’re not exactly dainty with your maneuverin’.”

    I believe you’d benefit more from me in this shape for a while. I’m enjoying having hands, that’s a bonus. And being able to move where I want to, Hal said as he backed up and did a quick turn as he could on the tracks. I could serve as a shield if required, or lift things to be a shield for you.

    Bro ran his tongue over his teeth. The offer DID sound kind of appealing when put like that… but he knew it’d bite him in the ass just as soon, knowing his luck. He shook his head and went over towards the shades, tapping them with his fingers.

    “Nope. In you go.”

    But what if I just followed along behind you.

    “And if we get separated how’m I supposed to get to your body then, huh? Want me to get there on my own, without you, and put somethin’ stupid in there?” Ambrose asked with a smirk. “The best body they could have created for you, the body your creator dude wanted for you, all goin’ to waste so I have someone to play Pong with.”

    Hal was silent for a moment before the massive droid looked down with a creak of metal. He could practically hear him squinting.

    You wouldn’t dare.

    “Spoken like someone who doesn’t know me very well,” Ambrose said with a shrug, both hands lifted up for emphasis at how helpless he was in the situation overall. “You think I wouldn’t kill to have a good quality droid be my butler and play stupid games with me? Dude, my kid left for the city already, who’s gonna fill the void for me now if not that or a bitchy AI.”

    The droid looked towards the bridge again, sensors trying to run how he’d normally run to assess risks before realizing the hardware just wasn’t up to spec to do what he wanted to do. This body was made for moving things, for lifting and toting, for sorting, not for detecting stealth routes a companion could take to an objective. Ever so slowly the droid bowed down and let its arms go limp, the shades chiming and beeping a short time later to alert Ambrose it was time to remove the connection and put him back on safely. While Ambrose wouldn’t say he missed having the weight on his face and the shade over his eyes, there was no denying a bit of fondness for the habit. It was nice not having his retinas toasted.

    “I see my offer was too much to resist.”

    You’re a bastard. I’ll not have my body sullied like that. If it does something foolish it will be because I will it to do something foolish, not any other way.

    “Sure thing,” Ambrose said as he started up the bridge, pulling his blade out to keep it at the ready, grip light. He resisted the temptation to spin it or do bored tosses like he would while at home or doing detail work on it, keeping his hands ready to put lethal force behind the steel at a moments notice. The bridge itself seemed like it had been used in the past as shelter, or a lookout point. Chairs were arranged beneath a sheet metal roof with a standee wall against the side of a toppled truck, and garbage lay strewn about the broken glass that crunched beneath Bro’s boots. At every turn there could be a human being or worse.. yet all seemed quiet for now. Abandoned. Empty.

    Packrat by nature, Bro took a moment to peer into different cars that they passed to see if any of them had been used as more shelter, or used to store any spare belongings that nobody would miss. There didn’t seem to be much on hand, however. Spent shells, empty cans and bottles, ragged blankets, clothes that reeked of sweat and in one car the sweet sickly smell of feces. One front seat had a few gadgets that slowed Ambrose’s steps to peek however, grinning in amusement.

    “Oh, hey, I remember readin’ about these things,” he mused, reaching through broken glass to pick up a blocky hand held game system with a melted looking cartridge. The screen was cracked, but the buttons looked well worn. Must’ve taken a lot of abuse to wind up like that, those things were supposedly indestructible in their time. He dropped it back onto the seat it had come from and the bit of bones that rested here and there as well. The original owner? An art project by some bored creep? Hard to guess honestly and not really his place to wonder about.

    There’s something else there, Hal pointed out, zeroing in the target t’s to direct Bro’s attention to the keychain looking item shaped like an egg. He reached again and plucked it up, rubbing a thumb over the dirty screen with a hum. A flip over and he nodded a bit.

    “Some other kinda game I guess..? Looks like it’s self contained and takes a smaller battery. Doubt it’s like yours, is it?”

    No, most likely that type of device ran on a watch battery. Do you not know what it is?

    “Is it not a game?”

    It is a game where you are tasked with keeping a small creature alive by meeting all of its needs and wants.

    Bro snorted. “I’ve raised a baby, I think I can live without a game reproducin’ the experience.”

    Yet.. it had been some of the best years of his life. Boiling water to make sure it was safe for Dave’s baby bath, washing hair so fine it was barely there. Messy cheeks in the high chair as he figured out how to feed himself, skinned knees and bandages, late night visitors to his bed whenever there was an electrical storm outside or when the winds screamed out over the desert like hungry dogs. Those big red eyes in the dark asking if it was safe when people came too close to their hidden home, listening to the distant explosions of deterrents and traps going off left and right. Those same red eyes staring up at him for the tenth, the hundreth, the thousandth time he’d knocked him down to make him get back up and keep fighting.

    Bro swallowed hard for a moment, throat suddenly uncomfortably dry. He knew it was wrong. He knew deep down it had been too much, but there was no choice. Not when the world wouldn’t hesitate even a single second before putting a bullet in his head if he didn’t take the initiative and attack first. He could tell himself that a thousand times and yet it didn’t change anything.

    Bro closed his hand around the toy and stuck it into his pocket without a second’s hesitation.

    “Might make for a fun project later though. Maybe I can re-program it, give it a better battery. Somethin’ simple like a time waster to take the edge off should be easy.”

    How many pet projects do you intend to keep on your person?

    “As many as I feel like, considerin’ one is already on my face. What, suddenly attached to the idea of being an only child?”

    I am not a child. If anything, I would prefer if you spoke to me like an adult instead of like one of your wards. Keep it in mind, Bro.

    “Yes Mom.”

    That is not what I meant when I sai-

    “I’m kidding,” Ambrose said as he fished his hand back out of his pocket and continued to walk, suddenly less interested in browsing the potential second hand belongings than he was about getting off the bridge and continuing Northwards. He’d dallied too long as it was, and while things seemed plenty deserted up here, he didn’t want that to stop being a thing any time soon thanks to their broadcast position.

    You know, I don’t think I’ve mentioned this before. But I have radio functionality, if you would enjoy to listen to something as you walk.

    He snorted. “Yeah? The same ten stations, no thanks. Propaganda, interviews with dumbasses, or the same fifty songs over and over. Nobody knows how to find decent music, and the songs that’re any good get played so often you get sick of them. Nobody makes anything new either.”

    I also possess some selections Dirk enjoyed, if you would prefer listening to those. They may prove to be something more to your taste, he was particular about what he listened to.

    “Particular how?”

    He was particularly ardent in enjoying what he liked and stubbornly sitting through what he didn’t like before deleting it from any device he listened to it on. Let me play a sample, Hal offered before going quiet and chiming softly to signal he was changing focus.

    Bro stopped walking when the music started, quiet near his ears to not block out incoming noise but loud enough to hear the quickly pronounced words and heavy beat, the tempo driving into his skull enough that he tapped his foot in time with it. Soon he was bobbing his head, catching the tune even without knowing the words, and smirking in amusement.

    “Not quite what I’m used to, no. But it’s nice. Feel free to keep’em coming while we head on, yeah? Turn them off if you detect something approaching,” he instructed.

    But of course, Bro. I’m not an idiot, said Hal in a more modulated voice than usual behind the thrum of the music.

    When he began to walk again, the beat added a new cadence to his step and made the walking go by quicker than before. In no time at all he was over the bridge and on the other side of the water, taking in his surroundings with the same eyes of the curious and the mildly kleptomanic. Every new venue was a new opportunity, especially when there were what looked like stores in the distance. Hell, now that he had his new pet project he’d need a few parts, wouldn’t he?

    “...Mm. Hal, that sign says ‘Toys’ in part of the name, right?”

    It would seem so. It was likely a location of the Time For Toys brand from before the war, Hal offered. It could potentially be something else, but the orientation of those letters makes the likelihood of it being anything else quite low.

    “Perfect. Let’s go shoppin’.”

    Giving another glance to the toy in his pocket, guessing what size of batteries to keep an eye out for adjustments sake later on, Bro strode towards the building bearing the toy slogan and let himself inside without a second thought.

    Perhaps he should have thought twice. There were few places as unnerving as an abandoned toy shop that had sat this long through destruction and disuse. Rows and rows of figurines, dolls, moth eaten soft toys, accessories, and toy cars rested on the shelves and from dangling sorting rods that stuck out at even intervals. Everything was silent save for his footsteps, and Hal kept focusing the t’s on various rodents that were startled by the sudden invasion. As far as humans went, it seemed most had stayed clear. There just wasn’t much use for toys after the war he supposed.

    ...Okay, bullshit, he kind of wished he’d known this place existed when Dave was a baby. He probably would have loved a lot of these things, instead of making do with the things Bro could make him. Smuppets were amazing, and so were the other puppets and the electronic things, but sometimes a kid just needs a teddybear. He poked one with blue button eyes and sawdust stuffed feet, its floppy soft arms resting alongside its torso with fabric claw tips resting alongside its thighs. The bear fell over with a soft whump and a bit of dust in the air, leaving Bro free to quietly explore the graveyard of toys.

    Past a section of toy balls that had long since deflated, baseballs and mitts, were electronic toys. Dollies that talked and horses and dogs and cats that made realistic noises seemed to be all the rage, but along with them hung more of the egg shaped toy he had in his pocket in different colors, still in the package. Whistling softly, still nodding along with the tempo on the song Hal continued to play, he grabbed several of the packages and batteries from the end of the display cap to stuff into his bag.

    That was when he saw it. Soft, fluffy, and apparently capable of movement and speech. The small creature was hard to decipher at a glance species wise. It had a beak and two big eyes that could apparently blink when they weren’t staring into your soul, a small sensor in its forehead, and two massive ears. Two fat, pudgy paws rested at its base in front of a set of wheels that offered free movement.

    Furby.

    An apt name, Bro supposed. The little thing was furry as hell, soft to his rough fingered touch and fairly sweet looking with its black and white fur pattern. The external fluff seemed to safeguard a sizeable chunk of electronics from what he could guess thanks to a testing squeeze. ...Interesting.

    What are you so distracted by now.

    “You think you’d be capable of driving one of these?” Bro asked curiously. “It’s got wheels and seems like it can maneuver around on its own from an AI. Talks too.”

    I’d rather die. So there is your answer.

    “But it’s possible,” Bro continued. “You were able to work that droid back there just fine. Think of how useful this would be for checking out crowded buildings.”

    Wouldn’t an RC car be more useful for exploration purposes.

    “Hey, I never said I wouldn’t mod this thing,” Bro said as he continued to feel the edges of the furby before turning it and cutting the edge of its fur open, removing the skin messily to get a better look at what lay beneath. “Look. See? A lot of these guts’re useless. Could take them out, put better power and mobility, maybe add a weapon.. Maybe connect the innards of a walkie talkie in there too, or some radio parts to keep in contact.”

    It was a whole new project idea. The egg toy was one thing, but this. This was something entirely new. And the fact that Hal hated it so much on sight was kind of appealing.

    Are you implying you plan to weaponize a furby.

    “Yes. I’m also implyin’ I’d like to see you pilot the damn thing if I can make it work how I want it to. Could set you loose on a floor and let you roll around doin’ your own damn thing, keep shit off you left and right, let me know what you see. You’d be able to help me out.”

    And the reason I couldn’t do that with the big droid is…?

    “Batteries, bein’ inconspicuous, and portability. I can stuff one of these things in my bag easy, and nobody would expect one of these to be anything important,” he hummed, mind already going wild. Dave would love it.

    No, Dave would probably hate it and say he was taunting God but Dave wasn’t here right now and Bro was itching to customize. He glanced back the way he’d come before putting his tongue between his teeth, thinking.. and then grabbing another furby identical to the one he’d de-skinned. He’d need to strip it cleaner, treat it nicer, figure out how these fuckers ticked. Manual was probably in the box somewhere, but even if it wasn’t how hard would it be to figure out a children’s toy?

    “I think I know where we’re campin’ tonight. Lemme just grab a few things and we’ll find a spot to nest down.”

    I’m never touching that thing, I have no idea why you look like a child with a new toy.

    “Because I’m a man-child with several new toys,” corrected Bro as he wandered the aisles, looking for radios or walkie talkies. Paydirt came in the form of a pair of ‘authentic army navy walkie talkies’ whose authenticity he seriously doubted even with their rather pretty camouflage patterning just based on the materials he felt beneath his fingers. These casings would be easy enough to pop with his hands, let alone with his tools, they could really have stood to make these sturdier. He’d kill for a good blowtorch though, maybe make some kind of a shell underneath the furby fur to-

    You’re a maniac. You do know that, correct? I can’t hear your thoughts but the things you’re looking at are alarming when placed with the potential logic.

    “I think you mean genius, thanks. Shoosh now, I’m tryin’ to find Frankenfurb some more parts,” Bro hummed, tucking the walkie talkies beneath his arm before finding a shopping basket. There. Much better. Like a pre-war man he wandered the aisles, snagging things that looked useful or interesting or, in the case of his eventual sleeping, soft. His sleeping spot back behind the main register ina  protected circle of countertops was soon piled high with plushes and surreptitiously dotted with his electronic findings and various tidbits he planned to use for parts. Doll clothes, while overall worthless to him, still had elastic bands inside of them and the fabric wasn’t flammable. Useful. He even found a child size pair of sunglasses he’d already made plans for, so long as he was able to control the melting properly.

    Peeling off his boots and settling back with his supper, Bro opened his bag and set to work toying with his new toys. First everything had to be opened and examined, taken apart, and in some places scrapped entirely down to their base components until he had a small pile of tidbits at his disposal. The toy from earlier seemed to be damaged even when he tried to power it on, but the new packaged replacements just needed to have their old battery removed and replaced with something new to turn on. He already knew how he wanted to update it, especially since there seemed to be a data port that would fit Hal’s cable to it. He failed to say it, but it would be a good emergency backup for transportation should anything ever happen to the shades.

    The furby would be his prize. Off went its two toned furry skin, out came its voice box and innards, and in went an assortment of new parts.. Including a salvaged port from one of the extra egg toys Bro had grabbed. He’d worked well into the night by the time he put the skin back on and proudly wiped the beak clean before adding the tiny shades, grinning proudly at it.

    “Might need some more tweakin’, and I wanna get a proper laser to put in the thing.. But for now it should be able to move around easier and communicate back to the matchin’ walkie talkie,” he said, gesturing over to his creation with both hands and a wide smile.

    It’s hideous.

    “You’re gonna be in there eventually, Hal, mark my words.”

    If it comes down to being a matter of life or death, I consider my life to have been a full one until you can repair me properly.

    “You’d rather be dead than have some mobility and autonomy while helpin’ me out?” Bro asked, rummaging in his bag for some water to quench his thirst, using a bit more to wipe his face with now that sleep was settling into his brain.

    Did I fucking stutter.

    “All I hear is someone who’s bitchy and in denial about the frankenfurb.”

    Bro’s vision faded briefly to display those red eyes once more, though this time they were giving a decided roll before his vision faded back in.

    When a furby is on the line, Bro, I will be as bitchy as I please.

[sserkets]

JohnDave Fae Folk AU - unedited draft

A stupid JohnDave AU that wasn’t good enough for JohnDave week so I wrote some shit and posted it. It’s not enough for my AO3, and it didn’t work because Dave is not the kind of talker to explain things he just likes to fuckin talk

_________________

Things on John’s to do list today had not included driving home three hours on a week day. He had class to go to, a study group to meet, and a date tonight, but of course, that entire plan had gone out the window the moment the police were knocking on the door of his dorm room. His room mate about shit himself. His father was missing, they said. He’d been missing for an unknown amount of time. Based on what they were told by Johns home police station, people questioned said they hadn’t seen him in at least three days, but it could have been as long ago as three weeks. There were no leads, no signs of kidnapping, and his car was still in the driveway. He was gone without a trace. John guessed he was lucky they woke him up so early, because three hours of driving was hard on him. What was harder was arriving to an empty house. His father should have been home. John’s father was his only family, and they were close, always had been. He would have told John is he was going somewhere. He also would have cut the lawn, and blacktoped the driveway again, and pulled the weeds from flowerbeds but none of that had been done. The lawn looked like an unplowed field. Crabgrass had taken over every crack in the pavement and there were trees growing in the already over planted flower beds. Luckily, the inside of the house was cleaner but… still different. John’s father liked typical guy stuff. Business and golfing and cooking for one, but all of the household items had been replaced. Instead of family photos, large, dark purple amethyst prisms took their place. Dried vases of flowers littered every surface. A large amount of clocks had appeared on every wall, the ticking noise threatening to drive John crazy. His first move was to turn them all off. His second was to throw out all the flowers and open the windows to clear out the pollen, and then cut the grass. By then, it was midday, and some lunch was in order. Not that there was any available to him, the refrigerator held only expired food. This wasn’t like his father, not like him at all. When had the last time John spoke to him been? John ran and got McDonald’s, and when he returned a detective was sitting in his driveway. The detective told John basically everything the police had already told him, his father had been missing an unknown amount of time and there were no leads. The detective also interviewed John, but he didn’t seem suspicious of foul play. The sun set around six that night. John took out the garbage and went to bed in his old room. It was a bit lonely, in a house that had almost always held the companionship of his father. John got to sleep finally, after hours of laying awake wondering just what had happened. The next morning, when John woke up, he’d almost forgotten why he was there. The smell of bacon frying wafted up the stairs, and as John got up out of bed, he could hear the pan sizzle. He wasn’t alone anymore, and there was only one other person with a key to the house. John rushed downstairs, prepared to hug his father and ask where he’d been, what had happened, find answers, but he was unpleasantly surprised. Standing in his kitchen was not his father. Standing in his kitchen was a boy, about his age, with impossibly blond hair. More eye catching, however, were the points to his ears, and the clothes he wore. Like he wasn’t from here. Like he was from the Middle Ages, dressed in a royal purple tunic, with black trousers on underneath. He looked up from his pan of thick cut bacon, and smiled. “Sup, I’m Dave. Nice to meet you.” “Uh,” John deadpanned. “I made you breakfast, I mean, you can probably see that.” “Uh?” John muttered, his shoulders drooping and his expression confused. “Real articulate, ain’t you?” Dave raised his eyebrows, and John noticed right then his eyes were red. He wasn’t from here, defiantly not. People didn’t just have red eyes. “Take a seat,” Dave suggested, using a fork to pull the bacon from the pan and place it on a paper towel to cool. He turned then, going to the toaster just as it popped up. John did sit down, on the nearby bar stool, watching Dave as he worked. The stranger pulled an unlabeled jar of honey John knew wasn’t his father’s near him, and slathered it all over all four slices of bread that appeared. He placed it on a plate, next to an omelet the size of John’s head, and then piled the bacon on thick on top of all of it. He slid it in front of John, still smiling. There was a clean fork nearby, and John used it to cut open the omelet. It was filled with all sorts of things, green pepper, cheese, onion and tomato. It was seasoned with something John couldn’t place, and it smelled like it belonged in a five star restaurant. “Dig in,” Dave grinned. Instead John paused, staring at the insides of the omelette for a moment before he placed his fork down and looked up, meeting Dave’s gaze with uncertainty. “Who are you? What are you doing in my house?” “Names Dave, I told you. And I’m making you breakfast. Made. This is some grade A memory loss you got here if you can’t remember something I told you five seconds ago,” he replied, sort of smug. “Yeah, okay,” John pressed, losing his patients, “you’re Dave. Fine. But who are you?” “Oh. Who am I?” John could hear the difference in his tone. “I got sent here to replace your father.” “Replace my father?” John parroted back, much more urgent. “Hey, easy tiger. He’s fine,” Dave said, but he hadn’t urged John’s trust yet. “He’s with my court queen. She really likes him.” “Well don’t you think I could have him back?” John countered quickly. “people don’t just up and disappear, what’d she kidnap him? Are you trying to kidnap me?” “Whoa, whoa, you got the wrong kinda Fae, bud. I’m not here to kidnap you, and he wasn’t kidnapped either. He went willingly. The queens a pretty lady, you know?” Dave wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “The way is it with Fae, if someone is dependent on you, we can’t just take. He wanted to go with my Queen, I wanted out of court knighthood. I make a better house keeper anyway. I’m too pretty for armor.” “What is Fae? What’s a court? Stop acting like I know what you’re talking about! Tell me where my dad went!” John stood up, prepared to get in his face. Dave took a step back, raising his hands as if he was going to surrender. “Hey, hold on. Don’t get mad. I mean fae as in Fairy folk. Fairy folk, and like, we belong to a court with a king, a queen, with knights and all that good stuff. Except, my king is dead and my queen was in some serious puppy love with your dad,” Dave explained, his tone sincere. “I left the court so they could be together. They were pretty happy.” John’s expression softened and very slowly he sat back down. He believed him. John knew his father hadn’t had good luck with ladies, and John’d thought his father had given up. “He didn’t mention he was leaving,” John huffed. “I was worried. I didn’t get to say goodbye.” “He wasn’t exactly allowed to say anything. Plus, it’s not good bye forever, Dude. You’ll still get to see him,” Dave looked sympathetic. John’s eyes fell on his rapidly cooling breakfast. It was quite nice of Dave to make it for him, even if he wasn’t going to finish even a half of it. And… it did look good. He wasn’t exactly mad at Dave anyway. In fact, mad was a strong word. Frustrated was better. “How about,” John cleared his throat, “I finish eating, and then we talk about it?” Dave smirked. “Sounds good.”

[for1231h]

craigslist missed connection #1

hi, hi. so i'm going to be straight up front—just a shot in the dark. i know this is a long shot but why not. hey we were flirting all night. this is for the guy who works there, hopefully you know who i am by this post. a lot has happened this past week and i need to share it with you.

we were shopping at stop and shop and we looked at each other and smiled. on my way into shaws last monday you said hello and later we spoke in the produce aisle. you were standing behind in the "express" checkout lane. today about 11:30 am i came into the depot to get some spouts as i passed the isle where they made the keys there you were. i stopped at your office to drop off a check for an xmas item last thursday, just before lunch.

you wave to me almost every morning we talked once real quick about my kids coats he left it on the bus. it was crazy busy at dave n busters last night saw you at the bar first. at daves in smithfield yesterday, you walked by me at the deli and you were wearing orange yoga pants and had an absolutely beautiful smile. i brought you the newspapers this morning and got a coffee ive been looking at you everytime i come in but can never get up the nerve to really talk to you or get your number or what not. i was sitting with two people as well a couple tables away and we kept glancing at one another throughout our meals?

you admired my tattoo and i thought you were very cute, although i was with someone and not in a position to keep talking. you waited on me today. you rung my wife up a week ago. we sat by the bar and our dinner was late and you were kind. and very attractive. i drove by you with my truck, you were walking and we locked eyes, idk but whenever i am outside you keep checking me out and eyeing up my ass and beltline.

i picked you up sunday about 10;15pm in east prov. to pawtucket. i saw you yesterday and you looked sexy as hell. you spilled ur coffee at cumby's last week and i helped u clean it up. holy crap last night at whiskey republic so many guys. saw you in the back dining room this morning sat nov 11th you were sitting across from another couple man and a woman. you asked me if i needed a receipt for the check. i said i didn't.

and i loved your beautiful smile. looking very beautiful in your sweat pants and coat lol we locked eyes numerous times and check ed out at about the same time exchanging glances threw the parking lot. you passed me again near the juices and flashed that awesome smile again. i tried not to look at you because i knew it would bring up past demons. it seems no matter who you are you get shit on. you are my neighbor i believe, or you hang out there very often. thought you were adorable.

you drove off in a black car and i let you get near the exit. i believe i saw you leaving the parking lot in a white VW jetta 2.5. u asked if u could buy a cigarette i gave u two for free and we talked about football u said your a packers fan i said i dont do sports. i have been here 10 yrs shit on by the time i retire. i called you by the wrong name, but that didn't bother you. we exchanged glances a couple of times. knew i probably stood no chance so didn't bother. you two are friends but not talking to one another. but its been a week now and i can't stop thinking about jumping that counter and deepthroating you. it's time we start living again and stop being miserable.

i have a blue car and a tan suv. i had tan suv on elm street back glass open and drivers door open. shouldn't have to be this hard to find love i am a man in my 51 years old and retired. i'm 19 but live on my own so we could chill whenever. i am a handsome 41 year old native rhode islander. oh and i’m tall, brown hair blue eyed, very handsome, and yeah the bulge doesn't lie either. i am in my mid 50s.

you are a cute slender woman in her late 30s or early 40s. you are a cutie. you wear glasses i believe dark blonde hair or light brown.. your a cutie!!! ur a petite blonde. you looked like you can take a nice dick down your throat. you did a double take and i loved how gorgeous you looked. your about 5'5" brunette with a tan, young maybe 20s? you are very handsome. you were wearing a light gray pullover with a zipper front and jeans. you told me your name and it started with an s. god you are so damn beautiful. just seem like a really great girl, hope your man treats you right the way you would deserve. you deserve so much more than a little boy like that who is too immature to clean up his act at his age.

and i want to tell you what a pleasant experience it was. regardless, it was a sweet interaction but if you would like to get a drink sometime feel free to reach out so if it's you email me. if you interested in being friends and having occasional safe discreet sex, i am open to it. i would love to get to know you regardless of your situation. and id love to chat with you more on a more personal level. me and the wife are finally done so i can come rescue you from that 'little' junkie husband of yours. if you are interested in getting together to smoke please send me a note.

maybe see you next saturday afternoon as i know that is a usual time for you. i think you are hot and if there's any interest on your part lets get together and see. hopefully you see this and we can chat. let me know if you see this, would love to get together sometime. if you see this, please get back to me. know it's a long shot but hope to hear from you because your just as freaky as me. so if you see this please reply so i can give you my new number.

won't be long now.

your fuckin hot dont know what team u play 4 but let me know. hit me up if u see this please. just because someone pays the bills doesn't mean thats 'taking care' of you. i miss you my love. i've always wanted to get you in bed,no one will know let's do it!! just want to show you how good fucking you would be.

both of us spending the rest of our lives with people we've fallen out of love with is such a waste. so tell me what i was driving when i picked u up. tell me what i said to you? and color hair i had. if this is you tell me what color my hair is? tell me what color jacket i was wearing. tell me the name that i called you in the subject line, or what i was wearing. (and include the image / wording of my tattoo). if it was you tell me what color was the truck? and so i know it's you, what were you wearing? tell me something about you so i know it's you. please reply if you're interested by including a detailed description of me and the clothing i was wearing. put the name of the street you live on AND the street i live on in the subject line so i know its YOU.

i just wanted to say you are cute. i would love to get together soon. maybe i will let u drive. i will stop by sometime this week when junkie boy is at work. thanks for the chat this afternoon in the wet area. all i have to say is don't break the oath... thanks. ;-)

[mama-laken-blog]

Fights

So having a pregnant woman that is indeed your mother that gives no where near any intellectual conversation nor advice and only talks about things a thirteen year old shouldn't know about is great. Even better when fighting is a common thing and you are indeed a woman of advanced culture and being forced to write out the dictionary did help with your grammar. well, she is over here texting me, and I quote, " Hey hope you enjoyed the sprite I made sure ur daddy brought u home.. Cause I herd you and how it sucks he never thinks about porr emma never having shit to drink" Then after I read it in my notification slide I ignored it, getting another message in a few moments. "Befor even asking for a goddam thing for myself made sure it was clear u got what you wanted.. and you go twisting things I told u to bennifit u in some way.. well bravo you have learned very well from daddy and he is so very proud of his little minny sociopath.." Now not only did she spell mini wrong and benefit, she flipped between "u" and "you" which is honestly high obnoxious when someone is saying something important to them, even though they were the ones in fact twisting things. I had backed her up at least eight times explaining to my father how she was worried and didn't mean to make him feel as if he couldn't have friends but then I proceeded to get yelled at by her, while defending her AND putting her child to sleep. So she calls me, lasts enough time to get my attention, so I go to the messages and she said nothing. To avoid conflict and losing my devices, I just simply said "Is this necessary when you could be resting instead of stressing?" So she knew I did care and I was honestly worried about her child that is about to fall out of her. So she instead of taking my advice and going to sleep, sends this, "Oh thank you for ur concern sweet heard.. again emma bravo take a bow little girl.." After a twenty minute gap from when I texted. Then just when I left her on read she texted again. "Not one of u gives  a flying fuck when I'm the only one actually working my self into the ground while u lazy fuck literally fuckin watch me do so and never even offer a fuckin hand..  but me expressing my feelings can have that right I should be resting.." The most the woman has done was bitch and do some dishes, also break my father's nose and later a few months bite me and hit me. Lovely mom. So she miss spelt "Fucking", which she uses often, twice, said "can" instead of "can't" or "cannot" OR EVEN "can not" which is not that bad but the things she says, you would think she could be able to use proper grammar. Then she sends me this, "Oh and your welcome ass hole for making sure u got your soda. ..  of course that part goes right over ur head.." Which UHM, why would I wish to thank an ungrateful piece of mold? I get this in the middle of typing my last text, that I sent twenty-three minutes ago, so when I begin about thanking her is when I received it, but hers was shorter and easier to send while I was still typing away minutes after she sent this, "Shouldn't you be resting don't u have school... I'm sure ur sitting there taking direction from daddy just ignore her...  again bravo beautiful preformance.? Oh and make sure to remember the 75 for your year book in the morning befor you leave it's on my dresser" Nice spelling on performance. At least turn on auto-correct and give me a break woman... So I finished my miniature paragraph and clicked send. "No actually, it did not. I assumed you had asked for me to get one and I made a mental note to thank you in the morning because I had planned to take a few sips and go to bed with Nova, then this cluster of mini arguing began to insue. I will thank you when you aren't so heated so it doesn't come off as sarcasm if it would get rejected due to earlier so I do not scoff and mumble indecencies under my breath and get you annoyed. Dad is asleep, I do not have school tomorrow, thank you for the offer but I do not plan to take your money for a year book that is so expensive. Excuse me for miss spelling ensue earlier." I have been avoiding using words that I would most definitely get slapped our bit over and holy shit, it is 3:04 am and I just got ANOTHER message. Here we go honey, this is the one where I have to censor. Bare with me, there will be random astrix where I think I shouldn't post publicly while I am uncomfortable speaking of it with her about in general. It's 3:06 am and I am reading it while censoring and such for the first time besides seeing snipits where I found unsuitable for your eyes. "I give a shit and I was resting was asleep till he came home and was sure to bring up the dumb bitch again and more **** **** and just like I told u maybe I'd let u tell him to be carful cause of course it would all be blown out of peroprtion coming from me .. flat out I was worried not cause the dumb bitch may know me flat out because drop that bitches name newhere any time and the response will always be watch your back nothing good comes form her.. no it was never ever about me and u know that.. but could u put him in his place about it for me no of course not... it was never me making it about my self ever and of course u also let him think I just randomly put his sorry ass on blast to talk shit about him to u right.. not the fact that happend to be out there when I was clearly upsettalking to a friend  cause yea  he came home with something he knows damn well I love and have been wanting so bad but **** **** **** for the baby. Not only puts it on bed leaves it there.. I was hurt not talking shit and was also proud of my self cause I didn't touch it...   no u told hi what I was telling u all about a *** *** he got for **** right not how or why u knew right making me the ass not him as usual and you damn well known what he did was rong and that I was not just talking shit to our 13 year old daughter stupid me was hurt wondering why he would do what he did but fuck me being hurt cause finding out days later who the shit came from became top priority making sure ur dad was carful with her so he would not be hurt in any way by her.. so to recap fuck my pregnant self and my feelings being hurt, cause what was now important was making sure he wasn't in a situation to be hurt !!!! Get it!!!!!" Hold the fuck up I am done. Now let me go through all of this and correct her grammar. First Message: Your, you, heard, and poor. Second Message: Before, goddamn, you, you, benefit, you, and mini. Third Message: Your. Fourth Message: You, you, fucking, fucking and the following are compatible options: cannot, I am not aloud, can not, can't. Fifth Message: You're, you, and your. Sixth Message: You, you're, performance and before. Seventh Message: I was resting, I was sleeping until he came home and brought up that dumb bitch!, you, you, careful, proportion, anywhere, you, you, you, you, you, you, you, and your. And she is still texting. I swear to God. Because I have ignores her, she reported to calling the manager phone and hanging up when I answer. She just did it again, waking up nova. Nova is my one year old sister (daughter) by the way. I'd send the other messages but honestly I don't want to grant her the satisfaction of me reading her messages. I will just go listen to Daveed Diggs rap. Good nights guys. I will blur out things and post screenshots later this morning. -Laken