#that and 'not gonna stop' and 'sad but true' by metallica are some of my favorites

[littleblondesoprano]

I was tagged by @piratebay :D!! Thank you, Valente!!

Shuffle your on repeat playlist and list the first 10 songs, then tag 10 people!

Leather Rebel - Judas Priest

Better Than You / Slither - Metallica

The (Shipped) Gold Standard - FoB

Countdown's Begun - Ozzy Osbourne 🖤

Bad Motherfunker - The Electric Boys

Good Enough - Van Halen

Welcome Home (Sanitarium) - Metallica

I Got a Line On You - Blackfoot

Hellfire - Barns Courtney

Mama - MCR

I tag: @azazelsexile, @clichenuance, @thedeductionmistress, @funnygirlthatgab, @a-scorpii, @layered-like-an-onion, @captawesomesauce, @worfsrozhenko, @flannelsandfolklore, @kys-kaleidoscope, @someallpowerfulforce and anyone else who wants to! Ofc no pressure!!

[mxnson13]

Hey i love your fanficion i was wondering could u write about female best friend reader masterbating in her bedroom to the thought of eddie and moaning Eddie's name and shit but what she dosent realise is that eddie has just arrived at her house and is now standing at her bedroom doorway watching her eddie and the female best friend reader end up having sex you can add some of your own ideas in their to I don't mindddd

BABY this took a bit because i got high and then i got horny. i hope you like it!

“should we talk about it?”

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings: smut, oral male and female receiving

summary: you stole your best friends shirt and he catches you doing something you’re not proud of.

you’re not necessarily proud of what you’re doing but it certainly doesn’t stop you. you laid on your bed nude except for your best friend’s metallica shirt. he’d worn it at his last show and you’d snatched it right off his bedroom floor the same night.

you can’t remember when your crush on eddie went from ‘he has the prettiest eyes i’ve ever seen’ to ‘fuck me daddy’ but your poor clit was the one being punished. the amount of times you’ve found yourself in the same position imagining him just holding you down and fucking the life out of you was getting embarrassing.

your gasps are just barely muffled by the mix tape eddie had made you. you flicked your clit in time with the music wondering if eddie would do the same.

the shirt smelled still smelled like him. you pull it up to your nose, not caring about exposing yourself since you’re the only one home. you inhale the scent of sweat, cheap beer and cigarettes. his cologne had almost worn off but you can’t still catch whiffs of the spiciness.

“what the fuck?”

you freeze, shirt in your face and fingers on your clit. you were supposed to be home alone.

“what the fuck?” eddie is standing in your doorway when you finally peek out from behind the shirt. he looks like the cat that’s just gotten the canary.

“hey,” you pull the shirt down immediately to cover yourself. “what are you doing here?”

“ah,” he rubs the back of his neck awkwardly but his smile never falters. “just enjoying the show.”

you stare at him for a moment, way more embarrassed than turned on now. “i’m just gonna go kill myself.”

eddie laughs boisterously. “you could but i’d be very sad.”

you groan and pull your blanket up over your face.

“you know,” he starts as he walks over to the bed. “i was wondering where that shirt went.”

“oh my god just take it so i can die in peace.”

he laughs again goddamn him. “you can keep it. it looks better on your anyways.”

“you’re not mad?” you ask sheepish over the top of the blanket. he reaches out and pulls the blanket away. you sit still as he takes you in wearing his shirt, still flushed from your previous activities.

“quite the opposite really.” you hazard a glance downward and notice he’s hard in his pants.

your brain went a little fuzzy and your core ached. your mouth drops open, panting a little. eddie’s watching your face with excitement.

“do you-“ he cuts you off with his lips pressed to yours. his warm hands coming to rest of your face and neck. you’re kissing him back eagerly, clutching at his shirt to pull him closer.

“so i didn’t read this wrong?” he asks attempting to move on top of you. you take advantage of him being off balance and pull him onto the bed. quickly you climb on top of him.

“nope.” you giggle leaning down to kiss him again. his hands grip your hips, grinding you down on him. you moan into his mouth.

“should we talk about this?” you ask pulling your (his) shirt over your head.

he stares at you dumbfounded. “you can’t ask me a question and then show me your tits that’s not fair.”

eddie’s nimble fingers dance up your hips, stomach to just under your breasts. you wait with baited breath as his thumbs rub over your nipples.

“eddie,” you grind down again, bare pussy against his jeans. your dreams were literally coming true, it was almost overwhelming. “can i blow you?”

“fuck yes!” he exclaims giddily. he helps you shimmy him out of his jeans and shirt leaving him in just his boxers. you’re sitting between his legs, eyes locked on the outline of his cock.

you trace your nails down his happy trail and he shivers underneath you. you bury your nose in the coarse hairs, it smells like his shirt. if this was a dream you didn’t want to wake up.

you suck a bruise into the side of his hip just because you can. eddie’s watching you with wrapped attention like he can’t believe it either.

finally you pull down the waist band of his boxers. his thick cock springs free. you try not to stare but it’s the prettiest dick you’ve ever seen. it’s warm and heavy in your hand. you close your eyes and try to commit the feeling to memory.

eddie ruts up against you hand and you take it as your queue to stop fucking around. you ease your fist up to the head of his cock to spread the precum with your thumb. his face contorts as he groans you name.

slowly you lick the tip, just kitten licks that leave him panting and begging. you wish you had turned down the music so you could hear him better.

sucking the head into your mouth he loses it and tries to buck up. you’re able to avoid choking or biting him by pulling off. he’s apologizing profusely but you just push his hips down.

“try and stay still.” you smile at him sweetly before engulfing him again. you go slow to keep him steady, but also to try and commit every moment of this to memory for later.

eddie is thick in your mouth and throat. drool pools at your lips which helps to ease in the slide of your hand. you feel empty as you think about him filling you, stretching you full. you can’t help but moan. his balls are heavy in your hand as you squeeze gently.

he’s babbling praise under you, one hand in your hair and one clutched in the sheets. he’s not holding you down, but the way his fingers keep tightening you think he may be close.

he spills with a shout, down your throat. you suck down every drop until he’s trying to pull you off. you sit up, beaming with pride as he catches his breath.

“wow,” he lets out a breathy laugh. “that was…awesome.”

you giggle. “should we talk about it?”

“did you cum?” he asks sitting up in his elbows.

“no.”

“ok then.” eddie lays back down and pats his cheek. “hop on and we’ll talk after.”

you laugh because the situation really is silly but you’re also giddy as you scooch up his body.

“you’re fucking soaked.” he gasps as you hover above his face. he yanks you down quickly and all your weight goes onto him. he moans loudly, tongue dipping between your folds.

eddie laps at you, kisses, sucks before driving his tongue inside. you’re gasping above him, riding his face. clit grinding into his nose.

your thighs were already shaking in pleasure. both your hands buried deep in his hair. he’s moaning into your pussy as you pull.

“fuck, eddie,” you cry feeling your orgasm bubble in your stomach. his fingers dug into your thighs pushing you over the edge. your release blurs your vision and makes your head go fuzzy. he helps you off of him and makes room for you to lay down next to him.

“i think you squirted.” eddie says after a few moments. you’re jaw drops as you notice him drenched down his chest. “that’s the hottest thing ever.”

“i,” you watch him grab his metallica shirt from where you discarded it to wipe off his face. “i’ve never done that before.”

eddie groans loudly. “that’s even hotter.”

you lean in to kiss him, happy when he reciprocates. the kiss is soft and sweet, sometime more akin to a first kiss.

“should we talk about it?” you ask trying to hold back a yawn.

“we can later.” he pulls the covers up over the both of you. “how about a nap first?”

“ok, that sounds good.” you nod snuggling into his chest.

“goodnight babe.” he pressed a kiss to your forehead. you feel your heart skip a beet. “sweet dreams.”

[sleepy-nancy]

I Wish You Were a Girl {{JAYMZ HETFIELD X DAVE MUSTAINE, PT.1}}

Saw a tiktok post earlier, i was inspired haha

They r my divorced parents who loved each other very much /trust

Angst, slight fluff in the end idkk(also to the people who wanted this ‘fic, I apologize if it aint up to ur expectations 🥲👌🏻)

ALSO I THINK THIS SONG RLLY FITS THIS FIC !!!

——————————————————————————

James and Dave were supposed best friends. Although, their feelings for each other began to change after awhile of hanging out.

Dave, had an attraction for James. Though, he didn’t like the idea of falling inlove with a boy. While James, he didn’t care if he fall inlove with a boy, but if it’s Dave.. it’s a big no to him.

So of course the friendship between them was.. interesting to say the least. Until one certain night.

Metallica had just finished another gig, they were just as drunk as you think they would be. Especially Dave. Hence, caused him to come up to James.

“James?” Dave tapped James’ shoulder, trying to get his attention.

“Yeah? What’s up?” James turns to Dave.

“Can we talk in private, real quick?”

“Sure.”

Dave lead James to a more secluded area. Where the two of them were alone, the tension grew upon the two boys. Their eyes locked together.

“So um..” Dave muttered, his voice suddenly going soft.

It was very fucking clear what he was feeling, James just knew about it.

“I know what you wanna say.” James cuts off Dave as he was gonna speak.

“You like me.”

“….” Dave couldn’t say anything back, as he knew it was true.

“Listen, Dave. I don’t mind it. But.. I swear, I can’t feel this way towards you.”

Dave was sad, but he felt the same. He didn’t like the idea of him being inlove with boys after all. But still, he couldn’t simply stop his attraction of James.

“I..” Dave muttered.

“I wish you were a girl.” He finally got his thoughts off.

“What?” James questions, abit stunned.

“I do wish you were a girl.”

James just looked at Dave, with a odd look on his face. He never expected Dave to say that. Ever.

“I genuinely don’t know what to say…”

Dave looks up to James slightly, slight tears welling up on his eyes. This affected him. It did. It was all complicated, a complicated feeling and friendship they had.

Eventually, James walks away. Leaving Dave alone, left with his own thoughts. He was confused, and a feeling of slight dread was on his mind. Knowing the later hangouts with James will and can be awkward.

***

The very morning later, Dave was in his bed. Staring to the ceiling mindlessly. His eyes turned blurry, as he saw himself tearing up, crying afterwards.

———————————————

Not much on part 1, i know, but i just got finished hanging out with some friends at a mall sooo yeahh feel free to suggest any ideas for part 2 :33

Thx for reading !!

[harrywavycurly]

Can you just hurt my feelings and give me some sad conversations with Eddie

Helloooo babes!! I will gladly hurt your feelings(in the nicest way possible since like you asked lol) so I hope you enjoy this🥺💖

*Eddie loves you and you love Eddie but sometimes that’s not enough and sometimes you’re just sad and Eddie is there to pick you back up*

“Don’t say that.” “It’s true sweetheart you know it is.” “No it’s not. I’m perfectly happy with you and living the life we have together.” “You should want more out of life than to just stay in this shitty town working a job you hate.” “What’s so wrong with being happy in Hawkins with you?” “Nothing I just…” “you want more out of life…” “yeah” “and I’m holding you back from it?” “What? No no you’re not I just…I had a plan and it got all fucked and now I feel stuck.” “I’m the reason your plan got messed up.” “That’s not what I meant baby.” “You deserve a chance at the life you’ve been planning since sophomore year Eddie, I won’t stand in your way anymore.” “What? No. Please don’t say shit like that baby. I didn’t mean it.”

“I love you. You know that right?” “Yes I know Eddie.” “You won’t like forget about me the moment you drive out of the city limits?” “How the hell could I ever forget about the man who introduced me to Metallica and taught me how to drive a stick shift?” “That’s me, giving you all the important life lessons.” “I won’t forget you, besides I’ll be back to visit.” “Yeah..of course you will.” “Don’t say it like that. You know if you ever need me I’ll haul ass back here and save you from whatever weird ass mess you’ve gotten yourself into.” “I don’t need saving sweetheart, you’re the one who is a walking trouble magnet not me.” “Just give me a hug and tell me you’ll miss me Munson.” “I’m gonna miss you.” “I love you Eddie Munson, don’t forget about me when you get all famous and shit.” “I’ll never forget my number one fan.” “More like your only fan..” “don’t ruin this nice moment.”

“This isn’t happening.” “I’m so sorry sweetheart.” “Don’t fucking call me that you asshole.” “I’m so sorry.” “Stop saying sorry and tell me why you did it.” “I don’t know why. It just happened and I wasn’t thinking and next thing you know she kissed me.” “Next thing you know she kissed you? That’s not how kissing works Edward. It takes to sets of lips to fucking kiss.” “I know. I just…I’m sorry.” “I need you to leave me alone right now.” “What? Please let’s just talk about this.” “There’s nothing to talk about. Now please go away.”

“It’s gonna be okay baby.” “How do you know?” “Because everything fades with time sweetheart even sadness.” “I can feel my heart breaking. Is that possible? To actually feel it? Because I swear I can and it fucking hurts so bad Eddie.” “I know sweetheart.” “I hate this.” “It’s okay baby. Just let it out. I’ve got you, I’ve got you.”

“But we love each other.” “We do Eddie but sometimes that’s not enough.” “I refuse to believe that.” “I’m sorry.” “You’re sorry? That’s what you want to say to me is just that you’re sorry?” “What else do you want me to say?” “I want you to tell me that you’ll stay and that you love me enough to get through this little bump in the road or whatever the fuck this is.” “We aren’t happy.” “No. You’re not happy.” “I’m sorry Eddie.”

“If you tell me to stay I will.” “I know you would.” “Please tell me to stay.” “I can’t Eddie. We aren’t good for each other.” “Just one more night please.” “Eddie…” “I fucking miss you sweetheart.” “I know.” “I’ll never stop loving you.” “Don’t make me do this Eddie.” “How about you don’t then? Just let me hold you for a bit and I swear I’ll be gone before you wake up.” “Eddie please…” “This is it then? No more us the moment I walk out that door?” “I’m sorry Eddie.” “I love you.” “I know you do.”

[jjba-hell]

Take of Prometheus

Ahhh so... the next two pieces I went OVERboard. This is not character specific but very reader driven. As a warning as well- you’ve probably noticed that I do not really do the whole “soft” reader thing. I want to hold my own against anyone, my reader inserts are no different. (Also conversation flow is easier)

Some context for the piece-

Sorbet is the reader’s brother

Reader does possess a stand that can hold souls by the chain that binds them to their bodies- this can be used to keep people “alive” until their bodies can recover or it can be used to kill by breaking those chains on command.

Reader used to work in forensics before getting mixed up with the mafia.

Prompt chosen: Death, more specifically dealing with the aftermath of an important death

Triggers: complicated family dynamics, death of a relative, pretty intense conceptialization of post-mortem operations and uhh that’s it

@lasquadraweek2020 @risottoneroo @giogio-gucci-gangstar and @junosartsthetic​

2,5K words and gender neutral reader- seriously, good luck

The irony of holding a funeral service for your brother wasn’t one you thought you’d have to endure but unfortunately for you, it wasn’t your choice.

You rose up from your seat on the chapel pew and started moving towards the back- passing by the rest of your squad who were scattered in their own pattern among their seats- most of them in pairs.

They were, however, the only ones who could attend- not like you and Sorbet had any other family that would grieve among you. That was a choice he had made, one which you were unfortunately dragged into.

The funeral processions went on as usual- with the caskets being carried out of the chapel and taken to the side-by-side graves. You and Risotto were tailing behind the two caskets being carried by the other members. It would have been nice if you felt sad or morose about the whole affair but that couldn’t have been further from the truth.

All you felt was an uncontrollable rage you didn’t want to deal with, much less act on. Perhaps you were still in shock- the manner of your brother’s death seemed so bizarre you hardly believed it wasn’t some twisted trick he was pulling and at the same time you KNEW the cruelty of your Boss was displayed in those formalin glass cases. Gelato’s horrified expression almost surprised you more- that bastard never feared anything.

Risotto gently took hold of your shoulder and pressed you forward towards the lowering coffins. You had the honors of tossing the first handful of dirt.

You moved ahead, knelt down between the two graves and gently let the clumps of moistened dirt slip from your hands. The first handful for Sorbet was because you were family, but for Gelato-you had forged a marriage contract for the two of them to persuade the church to to let them be buried together. The mafia did many unspeakable things but threatening churches was not one of them- probably the Catholic guilt from their homes making itself known.

The rest of the team followed suit, bowing their heads in a prayer you knew had no use- neither one of them were going anywhere good after death.

When the grave keepers started shoveling the rest of the dirt on you didn’t wait to see them finish the job, you simply left to find a private corner to indulge yourself in a cigarette- a habit you thought you had broken.

You pulled the packet and lighter from your back pocket and soon found a particularly deep set angel statue with a wide base to slip onto, at the very back of the church- overlooking a courtyard you saw no purpose for other than looking good.

The first drag had just left your lips before you heard footsteps approaching. You’d recognize that stride anywhere. “Stop following me, Risotto.”

True to your prediction, Risotto rounded the corner on you and with a sigh he held out his hand. You’d caught him killing a cigarette in the alleyway behind the base once before, but you figured that was only because the pressure of looking for your brother was taking a toll on him. He took one of your cigarettes and lit it before returning your pack back to you- not uttering a word to you.

Illuso had once told you he had gotten a lead on how long Risotto had been in the mafia- more specifically La Squadra, you shuddered to hear the answer of 16. You’d only joined after wasting a few years away at medical school- unable to imagine your 16-year-old self killing people then. It takes time to become desensitized to this sort of thing. Maybe that was why all you felt was anger right now. And somehow you could laugh at the almost awkward question Risotto asked you.

“Holding up?”

“I’m fine. Can’t really say I feel anything...‘cept maybe rage.”

He only nodded, bringing the cigarette to his lips once more. “I’m guessing we won’t be receiving any orders or any pay for a while.”

“It’s not the pay, Ris.”

You let the moment slip by for a second. You truly didn’t care about getting paid- you weren’t stupid. Most of you had some emergency nest eggs carved and duct taped into your mattresses.

“I’m mad at my brother.”

“You’re mad at your brother getting caught?”

“I’m mad that after all this time- years after he promised me he stopped gambling, he took the ultimate gamble and fucked us all over one more time.”

Risotto stepped to the other side of the statue base, leaning against it.

“And you believed him?”

“Stupidly, yes- I did. I thought he had what he wanted. The risk, the danger, the blood, guts and gore but it still wasn’t enough. Now I ask you, Risotto Nero- how are we supposed to move on? The Boss doesn’t trust us, we can’t disband or disappear, the money’s already running dry- all we are, are sitting ducks waiting to be slaughtered.”

Risotto didn’t say anything, those black and red eyes gazing back at you with the same cool anger you could only hope you held in your voice.

He stepped forward, held onto your arm and seemed to be using Metallica on both of you. When you gazed down at your own body you were becoming transparent. Eventually neither one of you could be discerned from the shadows. “I’m not going down without a fight.” He grumbled from where you could only guess his face was. “First opportunity I see, I’m going after the Boss myself.”

It would have been a lie if you said you weren’t surprised. Of all people to go after the Boss, Risotto was the one you least expected to act out.

Metallica wore off and you were back to watching Risotto take a drag from his cigarette. Of course you understood why- why wait to have your throat slit when you could do something to prevent the person from getting to you, it was only stupid because you were running towards the one holding them knife.

“I’m not gonna sugar-coat it, y/n. I know how it feels to lose family, blood family and I need to make one thing very clear.”

He killed the cigarette under his foot and then looked you straight on. “I couldn’t even wish to succeed at this mission without you.”

Life within La Squadra, or specifically Passione, had started off rather innocently a few years back. You had made it into a state mortuary- proud of how far you’d come on your own. By that time, Gelato had become the newest addition to the apartment you shared with your brother. Sorbet never disclosed to you what exactly he did but you’d had your suspicions that whatever it was, it was probably illegal. At the time, you didn’t care...by then you could pay for the apartment yourself, should he ever disappear. It wasn’t like you were THAT close.

It was just that one night, when he and Gelato came stumbling into the apartment- bloody, beaten and a little drunk when everything suddenly started to go downhill. Both of them had stab wounds littering their bodies and you initially wanted to take them to the hospital but they were adamant that you not even look at the phone to call for anyone else.

So you stitched them up yourself. Big mistake.

For no sooner than that same night you came back from work did you find another gang mate asking to be stitched up.

One right after the other- your time was spent with dissecting people during the day and stitching the living back together at night. Of course the gang couldn’t have you as a possible liability- possibly babbling about what awaited you when you got home so you ended up having to join, your job abandoned and because of Sorbet, you ended up in La Squadra as a medic. Or at least so you thought until they started bringing you along on missions so often that you ended up killing all on your own.

You suppose that’s why you felt like you couldn’t mourn Sorbet’s death- if not for him, you might have still been living a normal life.

“You mean my stand.” You narrowed your eyes at Risotto and for once he huffed a bit of laughter- the barest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

“Maybe a bit of your brains on the side as well?”

In the stare off you two held for a second you were reminded of everything you had been through since Delivery day.

You couldn’t imagine having to send your brother’s body to the crematorium or anywhere in the state it was in. The responsibility to get it into presentable condition suddenly fell upon you...

It was labor intensive- you had to use a false structure- something resembling his original skeleton- that you could glue and stitch all his severed pieces back together. Dead bodies were not something new to you, he didn’t mean enough for you to care... yet it still made you vomit every time you had to roll the pieces back into the freezer to work on later.

By the time you had finished, Melone asked you what you’d think Sorbet would have wanted- cremation or burial.

You chose burial as a joke- knowing the vain bastard would rather be lowered into the ground in pieces than have his ashes mixed with anyone else’s, the exception being Gelato’s of course.

You just didn’t quite expect Risotto to take you seriously- needless to say it wasn’t an open casket though.

You broke off your gaze from Risotto with a sigh- looking out over the picture perfect grounds in front of you.

It was Risotto who spoke out eventually. “I can’t pretend to know what’s going on inside your head, y/n. The decision remains yours to make, I won’t coerce you. Just know that if we go to hell, we’re dragging the Boss with us.”

With that he walked away in the opposite direction he came from, leaving you to steep in his words.

You said nothing as you took your own cab to your apartment that was now halfway packed away in boxes- shoved into what you could now consider a spare bedroom so that you could at least plop down on the couch without having to run an obstacle race. Not like you wanted to have any reminders of the ghosts of your brother and his boyfriend.

However you soon came to understand that that was inevitable...

Every damn thing you came across in the apartment reminded you of them- the kitchen counter that hosted so many botched up people they had brought to you, the busted up microwave display Gelato had hit with a baseball bat... then you remembered the batch of unfolded laundry sitting in the basket that held more of their clothes than it did your own.

You shoved the apartment door shut behind you and with a groan slid down with your back against the door.

What exactly you were feeling, you were unsure. Were you truly mad at them? Or was that just a guise to hide how much your heart ached that you had lost all blood relative you had? You should be happy, shouldn’t you? He dragged you into this mess, didn’t he? You were stuck here until you’d eventually be killed by it- that was enough to hate him and rejoice at his passing but he remained the one person you’ve ever truly had by your side.

You curled in on your knees, banging your head against your knees in frustration.

“Well, I suppose I owe Risotto an apology.”

You peered up at Prosciutto who was now looking down his nose at you. Of all people to send to check up on you, Risotto chose him?

“What do you want?” You grumbled back at him.

He shrugged, nonchalantly gazing at the hallway around your apartment door. “Risotto tried to convince you of something at the church but I wanted to pitch an alternative to you- if you’re interested.”

You rose up and gave him a side-eye. “I haven’t decide on anything.”

“I’m aware, let’s talk.” He continued as he opened the door behind you, letting you slip in first.

“I’ll be frank dolcezza, nothing is going to bring your brother back and from what I’ve seen from you, you don’t want him back either.” He was talking over his shoulder at you.

“Where is this going, Pros?” You frowned back at him from the front door.

“I’m saying, fuck revenge and fuck your brother.” He turned around to talk to you head on. “You said it yourself- we’re sitting ducks until the Boss decides we’re not and we’re being paid worse than the dealers under some capos. What’s worse is there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“And how does that amount to repeating Sorbet’s mistake?”

Prosciutto sat down on the couch, reaching into his pocket for his cigarette holder. “See it this way, help take down the Boss and either die trying- getting out of the gang if we succeed. OR sit here, do nothing and wait to be taken out of the Boss.”

You took the now lit cigarette from his fingers and brought it to your own mouth. “I’m not stupid, Pros. You didn’t need to come here and explain everything to me like Pesci.”

You moved over to find the crystal ashtray from the kitchen.

“It’s my brother’s death I can’t quite seem to come to terms on.”

You returned the ashtray to the coffee table in front of Prosciutto, taking another drag before handing it back to him.

“Oh come on. What has that bastard ever done to help you?”

“He got me through my first years as a student...he was all I had after our parents died.” You blurted out as you slid off the arm rest of one of the couches to slouch into the single-seater. “Now you tell me- are you really mourning their deaths or are just scared of the message the Boss sent?”

Prosciutto seemed to mull that question over as his cigarette burned out slowly between his fingers.

“We’re mourning. I suppose if you depend on each other as much as we do- it becomes habit to care.”

He didn’t meet your gaze as he uttered those words- killing the cigarette in the ashtray before getting up and striding his way towards the door.

“What was that alternative you wanted to talk to me about?” You called back at him just as he was about to disappear out of sight.

“Simply put? Stay on stand by for when things get ugly for us- if we make it- you get a free ticket out of this shit show.”

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #307

“you lie so much, you believe yourself”

How long has it been since you kissed someone? Like, two years or so. What level are you on Farmville? Never played it. What are you looking forward to in the next year? I hope Covid just withers away, dammit. I truly, truly hope this vaccine is effective. And that people start wearing their GODDAMN masks. Do you use a lot of emoticons? Not really nowadays. Would you ever climb a mountain? No. Even if my legs were capable of handling that, I'd be too afraid of an avalanche. Colons or equal signs for your smiley face’s eyes? Colons. When was the last time you swam in a lake? A looooong time ago. If you could have anything right now, what would you want? It'd be great to chill at Sara's house honestly, I miss that. What’s your relationship status? Single and I think finally starting to truly accept I need to be right now. I wouldn't want to date myself in my current position, so I shouldn't expect anyone else to. When was the last time someone asked you your age? On my birthday when I mentioned in group therapy that I was trying to make it an especially good day about myself. When was the last time you danced? Very, very poorly with Sara years ago lmao. Has anyone ever tried to physically fight you? Someone snatched my arm and yanked me down to look her in the eyes in HS because she was a jealous bitch back then telling lies, but idk if her intention was to actually try to start a physical fight. Are you avoiding someone? No. What’s your favorite primary color? Red. What do you have pierced? Just my ears and bottom lip now. :/ I want morrrreeee. I'm forever tilted that so many of my piercings closed when I was hospitalized. What is your favorite dog breed? I find pugs to be very cute, but I do not support their breeding whatsoever so would never buy one. Besides them, I have a definite bias towards beagles. In your honest opinion, what is the scariest sea creature you know? Fucking Christ, giant squids. Terrifying. Do you believe there is just one love for everyone, or…? No. There are way, way, WAY too many people on this planet for that. What natural disaster scares you the most? Tornados. What outrageous career could you see yourself wanting to do? Define an "outrageous" career... but I can't visualize myself doing anything very unordinary. In what way would you want to help change the world? I truly hope I can make some considerable amount of contributions to natural conservation and animal education. When driving down the road looking for an address do you turn the radio low? I don't drive, but I know I would, considering I can't concentrate on driving if the radio is on anyway. What do you think of when you look at the stars? How little I and my problems really are. It gives me perspective. If you could say ONE THING to the president, what would it be? Well, Biden just got into office, so I can't really say yet. We'll see what he does. What Disney princess are you most like? Personality wise, I mean. Uh. I'unno. Maybe Snow White because animals? haha Do you believe in astrology? Not in the slightest. Do you look into people’s eyes when you talk to them? I try to, anyway, but I tend to find it very uncomfortable, and I never know if I'm offering too little or too much. So I have trouble maintaining it, especially with people I don't know. You can have one of the following two things: trust or love. Pick one. Trust. What do you think is the most important thing in this life is? Hm, that's a deep one. Perhaps the understanding that you are just as important as the next person and that we should work as one to make this one life that we know of worthwhile. Make the world better than when you entered it. What is your favorite shade of blue? Pastel blue. I just like pastels in general. When's the last time you bought something just because? I don't buy things "just because." If I actually have money to spend, I use it with motivation behind it. What Ozzy lyric describes you best? WHOA NOW HUNNY you are asking the WRONG person because I can just about name his entire discography so there are waaaay too many song lyrics to dig through and pick one for myself. Probably something from "Dreamer," after a short moment's consideration. When was the last time you went for a walk without a specific destination in mind? Not since Sara and I walked down the path near her house. We didn't plan on when we would turn around to go back. Do you daydream? Only all the time. What was your last daydream about? Ha, thanks to that other question, visiting Sara again. It'd be nice, but yeah, financial limitations and corona. Ever won the lottery? Bitch I wish. What was the most important decision you made that screwed up your life the most? Ugh... I'd say putting all my self-worth, happiness, and source of peace into one person was pretty big but also fucking stupid. What is love really about? Don't ask a romantic this and expect a non-essay, haha. But to keep it as short as possible, it's about mutual care, the desire to grow together, trust, openness, the peace to be vulnerable with the other... It's about a lot. It's such a deep, beautiful feeling. What's the most you ever made in a year? lol Do you have an online diary? Only through surveys, really. What's the biggest pot you've won in poker? I haven't played poker since I was a kiddo, so idr. What Metallica lyric most describes your life? Who wrote this and knows my favorite bands????? Like damn. There's a good handful of the sadder songs I relate to; I did some brief digging through ones I know I relate to, and perhaps the one I feel closest is within "The Unforgiven II": "The door is locked now, but it's open if you're true. If you can understand the me, then I can understand the you." Aaaand now I'm gonna go binge Metallica 'cuz it's been too long, thanks. How many concerts have you been to? Just one. :/ Which one was your favorite? I've only seen Alice Cooper, and it was great. What's the most illegal thing you've done? Pirated stuff, oops. Ever get busted by the cops? What for? No. How many pairs of rollerblades do/did you own? I doubt I have any anymore. Ever wear out a CD? What was it? Ahaha... There is some scratching on my mom's copy of Ozzmosis thanks to me playing it so much on my old CD player. Ever have a tornado in your town? Well my city is pretty damn big, so yes, in some spots. I don't think my immediate proximity has ever seen one, though. If you HAD to pick ONE song to listen to for the rest of your life, and that would be the only song you ever heard, what would it be? I would absolutely need something motivating if that was the case, so most likely "Life Won't Wait" by Ozzy Osbourne. That song touches me so deeply and gives me the courage to do what I can to tackle life and try not to waste it. I know, I'm doing a great job at that. Ever heard of Shinedown? Hell yeah; I was actually listening to them in the car earlier. What does your lawn furniture consist of? We have nothing out there. Ever live off of canned soup and ramen noodles for weeks at a time? Er, no. But when I got my tongue pierced, I had to survive off of popsicles and... I somehow forgot the main thing I ate???? How?????? But anyway it was something that didn't involve much or any chewing, either. I actually lost a little bit of weight in that week or so because eating solids was impossible, and I didn't enjoy "eating" liquids either. That piercing (snake eyes, btw) was soooo so cute tho. I really wish it hadn't started to damage my teeth, or else I'd still have it. What musical group/artist do you love, but hide from other people? I used to be kinda embarrassed by artists like Melanie Martinez when you compare her music to my adoration of metal, but at my age now, I don't give a damn. I like what I like and won't hide it. What is the first meal you remember eating? ... Does anyone actually remember this??? What's in your keepsake box/scrapbook? Good God, a lot. I haven't looked in it in a very, very long time though. It brings a usually painful nostalgia. What did you score on your SATs? I don't even remember if I took them. I THINK I took the ACT instead? I don't even know the difference. When was the last time you saw a rainbow? Hm. Been a while. It's not like I'm out of the house a lot, especially nowadays with quarantine. What colors is your lava lamp? I wish I had a lava lamp, they're rad and really relaxing. What's the strangest thing you've ever hung on the wall? Nothing, really. Can you name every place you've ever had sex? I mean I can but I'm not going to. What's the most important thing you ever lost and never found again? My favorite childhood cat Charcoal. He was an outdoor and intact male, so it was very normal for him to eventually vanish to rove. Please keep your cats indoors. What forms of birth control have you used? The pill and, uh, having "barriers." How many webpages have you created, and can you still find them all? I made Wetpaint sites for my two RP mobs back in the day, but the site has since been completely revised, so no, they don't exist anymore. I checked outta curiosity I think last year. How many people are in your family portrait? We don't even have a proper family portrait. Ever punched a wall? No. When's the last time you really lost your temper? In some argument with Mom I don't remember. Ever thought you (or a girlfriend) were pregnant, but it was a false alarm? I had massive anxiety over it once, but it was irrational and even I knew that. Not that anxiety cares. If 97 is yes, were you glad or sad? I was very glad when my period came lmao. What was the last conversation you had with someone before they died? When I saw my grandma for the last time, I just let her know that I loved her and that she was so, so strong, and she was. No one could believe how long she warded death off when she finally stopped chemo. What do your drinking glasses look like? We have some more unique cups and mugs, but the majority of them are just plain, slightly angular glasses, some short, some tall. How many bottles/containers are in your medicine cabinet? Oh wow, a lot. We're covered for most potential problems. How many funerals have you been to? Uhhh I think one. Maybe even none, just wakes. What was the last bug you killed and what did you use? An ant, I think? I just used my fingers. How many computers in your household? There are three laptops, but no desktop computers. Ever help to solve a crime? There was one occasion years ago when our neighbor's window was busted overnight and cops came to us to ask for any evidence we might have had, but we didn't have any. Idk what came of it. Ever get pulled over by the cops and get away without a ticket? I've never been pulled over. What was your first legal alcoholic drink? I think it was a margarita, but possibly a daquiri. Ever get published by one of those poetry groups? I fucking wish. I've tried, but to no avail. What's the furthest distance you've moved? Not very far at all. Just to the neighboring town. How many friends from high school/college do you still talk to? Only a few now and then. Girt is the only one I have real conversations with, though. What's the most expensive things your parents ever bought you? Probably the laptop I have right now, but idk. I've never asked how much things they've bought me cost, it seems rude somehow. What's the most expensive thing you've bought? The upcoming revamp of my tattoo. Deposit was $100, and then it's probably going to be another $300-400. I can't afford it all myself; as my birthday gift, Mom is helping me pay for it, but I've got most of it covered thanks to Christmas and birthday money. How many times did you intentionally start to commit suicide? Start to do it? Well, I was trying to run for sharp objects to do it twice, but on each occasion, someone held me back 'cuz they knew I was about to do something rash, so I didn't get very far, thankfully. The only time I fully went through with an attempt was my OD. Ever spent the night in the "loony bin?" How fucking disrespectful to call it that, but whatever. If you put all the instances together, I've been in psych hospitals for around a couple months, maybe more. What is your favorite cover song? Disturbed's cover of "Sound of Silence" is absolutely unbeatable. I'd just about call it a cold hard fact. What's your inspiration? Other's success stories, music, art in general, etc. What's the longest relationship you've been in? Over 3 1/2 years. Did you ever drop out of school? I dropped out of college three times, yikes. Three times is enough; even if I think I want to, I'm never going back. That is just way too much money to keep throwing down the drain, and there's clearly a pattern. Ever raise a child that wasn't your own for more than 3 months? I've never raised a kid period. Strangest medical procedure ever performed on you? Look up what a pilonidal cyst is and know I had one surgically removed. Pretty strange and uncomf. Song that has changed your attitude recently? None, really. What's something that you say a lot to be mean? ... Why would I try to be mean??? Who told you they loved you last? Me mum. Ever had a pet frog? Not technically, no, but as kids, my sister, neighbor, and I saved hundreds, maybe thousands of tadpole eggs from a ditch that was inevitably going to dry out. We transferred them all to a kiddie pool and let them grow naturally, hopping out and into the world whenever they were ready. I wouldn't call them "pets." Your worst enemy? IT'S NO SURPRIIIISE TO MEEEE I AAAAMMM MY OWN WORST ENEMYYYYY Do you believe in karma? No, but I wish it was a thing. What was the last hurtful thing you said to someone? I'm not sure. I certainly try to avoid doing so. Do you love someone enough you'd die for them? There's multiple people. The last song you listened to? I wasn't joking when I said I was gonna go on a Metallica spree, haha. "Of Wolf and Man" is on rn. Your most favorite memory as a kid? Too many, man. If you had the choice to work or not, would you work? Yes. I need something to do that benefits others in one way or another. Ever TRULY wanted to kill someone? I can't say for sure, if I'm being totally transparent. When I found out about Jason's gf after me, I can say with certainty I wanted her dead beyond dead, but I don't know if I wanted to kill her, per se. Just to clarify, no, I don't wish any negativity upon her now. I was certifiably insane before and certainly don't think I am anymore, so... Marvel or DC? I don't care. Do you watch anime subbed or dubbed? Both. I prefer dubbed, BUT only if the voice acting isn't insufferable. I like dubbed just because for me, it's very distracting to have to keep looking down at subtitles. How often do you exercise? I don't... I'm still waiting for Mom to move into her actual room versus the living room couch so I can do WiiFit with some privacy. I'm too uncomfortable to exercise in front of anyone. What is your favorite book series? Warriors will forever have a very special place in my heart. What is your favorite OTP? I will probably ship Rhett and Link for my entire life. Their friendship is truly incredible and so so SOOOOOOO cute. Who is your favorite Harry Potter character? I've never seen the series, actually.

[snarkwrites]

FFT: galentines; john shaw

Notes:

Okay, so... Did I mention I totally fell in love with Dean Ambrose’s character John in the movie Lockdown? Because yeah, yeet, oops. This is a result of that. And maybe at some point, I might revisit this whole.. Idea.. of mine. Idk. For now, this is part 1 in a two part thing.

Summary:

Valerie and John were a thing years ago. Now they work together. But there’s lack of closure and BOTH PARTIES are still in love. Maybe drinks are had and maybe John does the sober boss thing and takes Valerie home?

Pairing:

Detective John Shaw x OFC, Valerie.

Warnings:

alcohol tw, flirting and angst.

“It’s over-commercialized bullshit, that’s what it is. No one is ever going to tell me any different.” Valerie was turning the glass upside down as soon as she slammed back her shot of tequila and shaking her head at the bitterness.

“Aren’t you worried you’ll get called into the station. By our boss and your partner, the hardass?” Tess teased Valerie just in the hopes that it’d get Valerie ranting and raving about her crush on the man in question because she was almost certain that she’d seen Officer Shaw walk into the bar earlier, flashing his badge around, looking all official. And Tess really, really, really wanted to see Valerie stick her foot right in her mouth at last. The tension between the two when they were all on the clock was almost enough to make everyone around them squirm in anticipation. It was almost as if they knew each other before they started working together on the force. Several times Tess got the feeling there was something neither of them were telling her, but she let it alone. She let them keep insisting things were complicated because somehow, she got the feeling they were beyond that.

For about 3 seconds, the words of her best friend almost sobered Valerie up. But she started to laugh and she shrugged. “I told him I get tonight off. Because Valentines Day.” Valerie giggled and shook her head, glaring at the rest of her friends when they immediately chimed in “Crime doesn’t take a night off.” her three best friends all mimicked Officer Shaw.

Valerie bit her lip, grabbing for the bottle of tequila between the four of them and after taking a lime wedge and shaking some salt onto the back of her hand, she took another shot. “Do you guys k-know how f-fucking hard it is w-working with John Shaw?”

“Oh god, here we go.”

“Hey, somebody should record this.”

“D-don’t y-you dare. With those f-fucking arms and those e-eyes, holy shit. Man is a walking w-wet dream. I c-can’t fuckin f-focus when he walks into my o-office.” Valerie was off to the races, ranting on without a care in the world and her friends were all sitting back and quietly giggling. At one point during the most filthy part of Valerie’s rant on the things she wanted Officer Shaw to do to her and a few things she wouldn’t mind doing to him, Tess caught sight of Valerie’s partner -and their boss, nursing a bottle of water and sitting at the edge of the bar, staring right at Valerie intently.

He did it all the time.

The next thing Tess knew, she was getting a text from an unknown number. The mystery was solved as soon as she opened the text though and Tess smirked to herself as her eyes scanned the message Officer Shaw sent her.

← Thought Valerie had a hot date or somethin’ tonight…

Tess had plans already, she was meeting a guy she swiped right and matched on Tinder with -if he bothered showing up. Their other two friends Rita and Addie had taken an Uber over to the bar after their shift at the hospital and were leaving as soon as their husbands got off work from a local steel factory. Tess had a feeling she knew exactly what Officer Shaw was getting at though, and just the thought that she might be right and this might be a damn good chance to play matchmaker between Shaw and Valerie. And that’s exactly what she set about doing, with her answering texts.

→ No sir. Not us. Never. ;P

→ Valerie got dumped earlier, so she’s havin’ a rough night. I think she started drinking at 5-ish?

→ I gave her a lift here, but if my Tinder guy ever shows, I’m getting outta here because I plan on getting l a i d tonight, sir. So.. Val is deffo gonna need a ride.

→  But then again, she’s the only one you were really askin’ about, am I right? ;P

As soon as she’d responded, she put away her phone. She spotted the red and black plaid scarf that her Tinder date mentioned he’d be wearing and she took two more rapid-fire shots, standing as she wiped her hands down the front of her jeans. “Ladies, my ride awaits. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do tonight. If you do, name it after me.. Or don’t. I’m outta here.”

Valerie gave a laugh and called out in a cheeky tone to her best friend, “ Wrap it up! You don’t know where that dick’s been, sweetheart!” her level of drunkenness making her usual drawl even thicker and much more pronounced. She stood, sliding off the barstool and she started to make her way towards the back, with Rita and Addie in tow.

Walking isn’t really a word for what she was doing. Stumbling was more like it. Rita and Addie flanked her on either side, holding her steady until she came to a stop in front of the old jukebox sitting next to a pool stick holder mounted to the back wall of the bar. After digging around in her pockets, she finally found a ten dollar bill and she set to straightening it, pouting and swearing when that task proved to be just a bit more difficult than she anticipated.

“Girl.”

“Give me that, holy shit.” Addie reached out, taking the badly wrinkled bill, smoothing it over the edge of the machine before slipping it into the slot. “No stripper anthems tonight.”

“Aw, c’mon, whyyyy.” Valerie whined and pouted, but burst into laughter. “Fine. W-we’re listenin t-to metal.”

“Oh god.”

“She’s gonna be so hungover tomorrow. Christ, Rita, her hair is gonna hurt.” Addie grimaced as Rita glanced over towards the end of the bar. Spotting Valerie’s partner sitting there nursing a glass of water, she got Addie’s attention as Valerie wandered over to the rack of pool sticks and grabbed one, chalking the tip.

“Okay, so here’s my thought. Tess has already told the guy that Val is gonna need a lift. When Mike and Danny show, we’ll kinda herd her over there to him.”

“We can’t do that, Rita.”

“We can and we are. Because it’s about time they both acted on the way they feel. Guy’s always around, Addie. He wouldn’t show up here if it weren’t for our wildcat best friend. And you know what Tess keeps saying, they’re always fighting. Think, Addie.. How’d it start with you and Danny?”

“Ooh. Good point. Okay, fine. I’m in. But I don’t like it. And he better not be a dick about it.”

“Somehow I don’t think he will, Addie.” Rita mused as she nodded in the direction of Officer Shaw. Valerie’s laughter and Sad But True by Metallica shattered the otherwise quiet bar and Rita gave a wink to the officer sipping water as his gaze flickered from her to Valerie, settling on Valerie who was currently racking the table for a game while trying to sing along with the song and wiggling her hips to it.

“At least she’s not at home ugly sobbing into a pint of ice cream like with Ben.” Addie mused as Rita nodded in agreement and reached for a pool stick. “C’mon. I feel like tonight’s that night, Val. Tonight I’m gonna push you right off that champion throne.”

“R-rita, I l-love you but n-no. N-nope. You’re h-horrible at t-this.”

“No, you’re just a little hustler. That’s all.”

Valerie squealed, smiling at her in a goofy way. “Awww, bitch, y-you always say the sweetest shit.”

“Okay, sugar. Get the stick and get ready for your beating.”

They were about halfway into the game when Rita and Addie’s husbands showed up to collect them and Rita wandered past Officer Shaw, leaning in to whisper, “Okay, stud. She’s gonna need a lift. Don’t be an ass. It’s been a rough day for her. When you two got into it earlier? She’d just finished crying in the employee bathroom while textin’ me.”

John’s gaze left Rita and settled on Valerie, watching her like a hawk. Ozzy Osbourne was playing now and Valerie was taking a long sip from the forgotten bottle of tequila. He grimaced and nodded in her direction as he asked Rita, “Any reason why?”

“Yeah, her ass of an ex, Ben. He dumped her over text.”

John grimaced again, finishing off his bottled water as he glanced at the time on his phone screen and stood. “The four of ya be careful.” he told Rita as Rita nodded and then told him, “Have fun wrangling her, Officer. Use the cuffs if you have to.”

[sinceileftyoublog]

Riot Fest Sucks

BY JORDAN MAINZER

Riot Fest Sucks. It’s a tongue-in-cheek phrase that occupies multiple meanings and connotations, referencing the organizer’s self-deprecating recognition that they’re not gonna make everyone happy with the lineup and scheduling conflicts. It’s the name of a Goose Island Beer Co. pale ale made for the Fest, at times served lukewarm, its $10 price tag a symptom of a somewhat pretend punk festival bombarded by corporate sponsors whose presence fails to belie the lack of close, cheap parking, credit card lines, and functioning ATMs. Oh, and Riot Fest Sucks because hours into it my girlfriend sprained her ankle exiting the Vans popup experience down the 20-foot fire pole with no soft landing. So unlike previous years, this year, I left after a couple sets on Friday.

I won’t get there yet--first things first, Caroline Rose. When I walked up to her stage and heard Natalie Prass playing on the loudspeaker, I thought what I initially did upon first seeing Rose’s name in small print on the lineup poster: “Why not Pitchfork?” But as soon as her band gradually came out--first "nicest legs in the band” drummer Will Morse, then “handsome and single” bassist Mike Dondero, then “best friend” Abbie Morin--and started playing a surf rock melody as Rose entered, it was clear that her unique mix of electro pop and retro rock--not to mention her early folk and country material--had her suited for a festival that embraces classic sounds. They began with new song “Everybody’s Making Out”, potentially from the new album she just finished, and then “Cry!”, the band providing a plinky breakdown to the LONER standout. Rose alternated between genuinely appreciative of a fairly large crowd coming out early on a Friday to hear some upbeat but sad songs, and being playful and goofy--essentially conducting the band with her feet while playing keys on another new spacey synth pop song, all before noticing the camera and posing as if she was in a photoshoot. Her joking fit the sarcasm of songs like “Money”, which was interrupted by Rose chugging a 312 and barely smashing the can on her head and then playing Aerosmith’s “Don’t Wanna Miss A Thing” on kazoo. Rose is as fun at a festival as she is forlorn on record.

But then the incident happened. I listened to a remarkably nonstop and consistent Hot Snakes set through the medical tent next to the stage as my girlfriend iced her foot, leaving for urgent care right as Neck Deep’s catchy but juvenile pop punk began, not to return until mid way through Turnstile on Saturday. Thankfully, we were able to rent a wheelchair for the next couple days. Navigating the grounds with a wheelchair was a challenge, parking for free on Roosevelt before going through the grass of Douglas Park and the various street curbs separating the Ferris Wheel and the Rebel Stage from the main area. For what it’s worth, save for a couple unsavory comments (“You’ve got him trained well!”), most people were extremely aware and respectful, moving out of the way when necessary, and even helping us out of the mud. We chose not to get ADA access next to the sound stage until Sunday, partially because we were unaware of the possibility, but also because we wanted to be with friends and in the crowd. And from my brief experience, Riot Fest and its attendees walked the walk as much as they talk the talk about acceptance and zero tolerance for discrimination against differently abled bodies.

Speaking of Turnstile, what I saw from them was a perfect mix of rap rock, hardcore, and nu metal, favoring songs from last year’s Time & Space like “Generator”, short ditty “Bomb”, and standout “Moon”, the last played twice, once regularly and once a capella by vocalist Brendan Yates to close the set. It was much more inventive and progressive than the band who commenced immediately afterward, nonetheless Riot Fest staple Gwar. This time around, most of Gwar’s set surprisingly focused on the generic thrash music, not as many antics, just costumed men playing and spraying blood willy nilly as opposed to as part of a plot. (Except when they killed Donald Trump--that was great.) It’s not Riot Fest without Gwar, but at this point, their sick jokes and edgelord humor is appealing mostly to dudes like the one in the Joe Rogan 2020 shirt I saw leaving the set.

We then traveled to the secluded Rebel stage to catch supergroup The Damned Things, who thankfully came on late, since on the way we got caught up in one of many “What happened?!?” conversations with a friend. The band first formed in 2010 to release their debut album Ironiclast, then consisting of Joe Trohman and Andy Hurley of Fall Out Boy, Scott Ian and Rob Caggiano of Anthrax, and Keith Buckley and Josh Newton of Every Time I Die. Nine years later, they’ve released their second album High Crimes, and this time around, Caggiano and Newton have left, and in has come Alkaline Trio’s Dan Andriano. At Riot Fest, they played half songs from the first record, half from the new one, including the first four tracks of the latter, which showcase equally what The Damned Things do well and where they fall into the traps of MOR rock. “Cells” is more raw than you’d expect from a band with FOB and Alkaline Trio members, both on record and live, and is a surprisingly great introductory song to the album. The other songs they played from High Crimes, including cheesy cheerleader chanting “Something Good” and “Omen”, whose lead riff can’t decide whether it rips off Tame Impala’s “Elephant” or Muse’s “Uprising”, could have been ditched in favor of record standouts like “Carry a Brick” or “Young Hearts”. The former combines the vocal urgency from Buckley that we’re used to with ETID, with Anthrax-worthy thrash metal, while the latter (along with the record’s centerpiece “Storm Charmer”) interpolate a menacing blues rock stomp that could have been emphasized over the pop punk sheen of the Fest. Not to mention “Let Me Be (Your Girl)”, whose music is straightforward but whose lyrics feature gender inversion when assumed sung from the perspective of the lead singer. I left enjoying the set but wishing they had played for longer so I could hear the deeper cuts.

Album score: 6.3/10

Of course, the scheduling gods put Testament, also known as “if Metallica was still good,” during The Damned Things, so we had time for just a bathroom break before catching The Struts. In case you’ve never heard of them, The Struts are English glam rockers, fronted by a man who wears a shirt with batwing sleeves, who fancy themselves the lovechild of Queen and Def Leppard but end up falling closer to someone like The Darkness--which is not a bad thing! Their second album Young & Dangerous is catchy and somewhat undeniable, and the band’s fanbase came out to support them at Riot Fest, British flag in tow. It was probably the crowd’s enthusiasm that fed off lead singer Luke Spiller that made the set infectious; “If you’re not ready to dance and sing, then you might as well fuck off,” he proudly proclaimed, a nice, clear contrast to drummer Rafe Thomas oozing out the words “Hello Chicago” in the most droll voice possible. Sure, the lyrics “I bet your body’s so sweet” are even more cringey in 2019 than they would have been in the 70′s and 80′s, and the “instructing the crowd to get down to the ground” maneuver is pretty tired, but it was refreshing to see a band so unabashedly and unironically unashamed of their influences. “Don't wanna live as an untold story / Rather go out in a blaze of glory,” Spiller sang on the opening lines of “Could Have Been Me”, and upon ending the song, he instructed the crowd: “Ladies and gentlemen, remember our names!” It felt like a scene from a movie, and I couldn’t help but think that such cinematic flair is exactly what the band is going for.

I had time to catch a little bit of underrated electro pop band Pvris and pick up an Orange Wit from All Rise Brewing Co (another Riot Fest staple whose most popular beer has actually improved over the years) before catching Wu-Tang Clan, almost by default. The legendary group seems to be Riot Fest’s token hip hop booking every other year, and so I’ve seen them play Enter the 36 Chambers about 36 times. They ended up doing it again even though not billed to do a complete album set, but was I really going to see Rise Against, Manchester Orchestra, or Andrew W.K. over some of the greatest artists, let alone the greatest hip hop collective, of all time? I’ll take time number 37.

Then came what I knew was going to be the most difficult decision of the weekend, and one I kept thinking about even after it was made. Thrash metal titans Slayer were playing their final Chicago area show at Riot Fest, and their other supposed farewell show I saw last year was phenomenal. Then again, who am I to believe that this would be the time Slayer would finally stop cashing it in and retire? Instead, I opted to see something I very likely would not see again: Bloc Party playing their 2005 debut Silent Alarm in full. Based on how surprisingly great their Lollapalooza 2016 set was, I was eager to hear a set filled with, uh, only good songs, and the idea of the first sounds of the set being the echo of the opening drums to “Like Eating Glass” traversing through the crowd, was one that supplied me with a rare kind of glee. So when the band came out donning masks, launching into the album’s slow final song “Compliments”, I realized that what I initially heard as speculation--that they would be playing the record in reverse--would be true. There went my dream. The sounds and images of fire coming from Slayer’s stage filled me with regret.

But as the set went on, I realized that the choice was one that was both strategic on the part of the band, making the crowd stay to hear favorites like “Banquet”, and beneficial to the crowd. Each song was more energetic and frankly better than the previous one, from the sweet dancefloor melancholy of “This Modern Love” to the stop-starts of “Positive Tension” and “Helicopter”. Of course, “Like Eating Glass” proved to be a worthy singalong, everyone around me air drumming like nobody was watching. And I even got to see Slayer close with “Angel of Death” on the way out!

With one full day of Riot Fest finally in the books and surprisingly sore from navigating a wheelchair over patches of grass, mud, and curbs, I was thankful that the first batch of sets we were interested in seeing on Sunday was at the same stage, where I could grab beer and food and come back, and we could switch off between the grass and the ADA stage (which, awesomely, had free water). Arriving to hear the end of wildly cool and catchy Chicago post-punk band Ganser, we sat and waited for Nick Lowe with Los Straitjackets (and watched a different kind of “jacket” swarm unfortunate members of the crowd who mistakenly wore too much cologne). With the masked instrumental rockers (another band with masks?!?), two years ago Lowe released an album of instrumental versions of some of his best songs, so I was curious to hear how they would fare as his backing band. They got a slowed down “So It Goes” out of the way, as if to say to casual fans in the crowd, “I dare you to leave,” before burning through a variety of early era Lowe classics like “Without Love”, given a country spin by the band. The band delivered a mid-set instrumental performance as Lowe took a break, showing their guitar chops and stop-on-a-dime dynamism, before Lowe came back for “Half a Boy and Half a Man” and the other song everybody was waiting for, “Cruel To Be Kind”. Before playing set closer “Heart of the City”, Lowe said to the crowd, “Thank you, music lovers!” the quintessential statement from a true “music critic’s band,” but one with the pop songwriting talent to reach beyond.

I took the one-two punch of the “Save a lollipop, suck a dick” t-shirt and the tardiness and subsequent flatness of The Village People’s set as a sign that I should leave and walk by Less Than Jake opening their set with Back to the Future music, be mad again at the scheduling gods for putting the amazing-sounding Ride at the opposite end of the park from where Guided By Voices was about to play, and grab some delicious Harold’s Chicken for myself and unfortunately protein-lacking pad thai for my girlfriend. But there’s nothing like GBV to fix a less-than-ideal situation or improve an already good one. “How do you follow The Village People?” Robert Pollard hypothetically asked as the band went on. “With the village idiots!” With even less time to play than they had at Summerfest, GBV churned out practically all hits, starting with their usual set closer “Glad Girls” and revealing a barrage of known live gems--“Cut-Out Witch”, “Motor Away”, “The Best of Jill Hives”--and some they haven’t played in a while, like Isolation Drills’ “should have been a hit” “Chasing Heather Crazy” and “Echos Myron” prelude “Yours to Keep”, during which a crowd member actually blew a whistle when Pollard sang, “the whistle blows.” The latter was part of the band’s Bee Thousand finale, giving a crowd of casual fans exactly what they wanted and pleasing diehards no matter what.

Deciding to forego sprinting and catching any of Against Me!’s full albums (two of them!) set or Dave Hause & The Mermaid, I planted myself in a spot where I could see Kate Pierson and Cindy Wilson’s beehives. The B-52′s followed a recipe for success in their set, leading off with track one of their debut, placing one hit early (“Private Idaho”), segueing a couple more from their debut into “Roam”, saving the two you knew they were gonna save for last. (Though I didn’t know they’d introduce “Love Shack” with War’s “Low Rider”.) The band was appropriately absurd and silly, frontman Fred Schneider’s sprechgesang adding hilarity to his response to Pierson’s “Something’s on fire in that pizza joint!” (“That’s my dinner!” he responded.) After the band ended with “Rock Lobster”, Pierson broke character and said two very serious things: 1) “Please vote!” and 2) “Go see Patti!”

And Patti Smith we did see, in all her glory. Her voice was as strong as ever on “People Have The Power”, “Dancing Barefoot”, “Free Money”, “Because the Night”, and “Gloria”. Unfortunately, almost half of her set was covers: “Are You Experienced?”, The Rolling Stones’ “I’m Free”, “Walk on the Wild Side”, “After the Gold Rush”, and for some reason, Midnight Oil’s “Beds Are Burning”. I would rather have heard something from her excellent later career albums like 2012′s Banga.

Hey, but she got a tribute during The Raconteurs’ set, as they chanted a little “Gloria” during “Top Yourself”. Along with shouting out headliners Bikini Kill (and the fact that they call God a “she” on new album closer “Thoughts and Prayers”), was it all part of Jack White’s plan to reveal himself as a feminist punk? I’m not sure; I do know that sociopolitical ideas aside, Help Us Stranger is a bit underwhelming as compared to the previous two Raconteurs releases, which were no White Stripes albums themselves. In any case, the band gave a very good set, because Jack White live is not to be reckoned with. The generic charge-up of album opener “Bored And Razed” was a buzzing jaunt on stage, and the blue-eyed soul of “Now That You’re Gone” was actually a nice change of pace from the blues-rock mashing of “Top Yourself”. On record, though it’s a welcome Ryan Adams diss track, “Don’t Bother Me” is straight up annoying, the repetition of the title after each line well-intentioned but flat--again, live, it somehow worked as a piece of absurdism. Thankfully, the band did play some of Stranger’s highlights, like the beautifully melancholy “Only Child” and power pop jam “Sunday Driver”. I wish they had replaced the comparatively generic “Somedays (I Don’t Feel Like Trying)” with catchy punk dirge “Live a Lie” or “Thoughts and Prayers”. The latter is the best song on Help Us Stranger. From the title, you think White might be trying to comment on gun control, but the song is at heart about life, a zooming folk odyssey rife with synths and fiddle and mandolin. “There’s got to be a better way / To talk to God and hear her say / ‘There are reasons why it is this way’,” White sings. It would have been an appropriate Riot Fest song: realistic, yet inspiring.

Album score: 6.3/10

But it was Bikini Kill’s triumphant reunion that was the perfect way to end the weekend, with dizzying instrumentation courtesy of Tobi Vail’s drums, Kathi Wilcox’s bass, and Kathleen Hanna’s guitar and siren of a howl. You knew they would sound great and play everything you wanted, from “Rebel Girl” to “Demi Rep”, the latter of which I hope will expose a new generation of fans to the band as the theme song to Hulu’s excellent PEN15. But the most fitting, even if not entirely poignant, was Hanna’s commentary, decrying “Let’s take this country back” white feminists and men who think they know everything, calling out rape culture more explicitly than anybody at the entire fest. “I’m sure Slayer talked about this a lot,” she quipped at one point. But it was a thought-provoking off-handed comment, one that makes me look forward to future lineups. Forget my forced symbolism of a $10 dollar beer. And I know the inherent problem of having a private, very white festival in a public park in a neighborhood made up of predominantly people of color, is not going to go away as long as the fest stays in said park. But Riot Fest can make a statement with the curation. Do they continue to market to nostalgia with minimal radical politics? Or will the festival live up to the name and, in their own words, stop sucking?

[itsmalachitenow]

21 QUESTIONS

I was tagged by @them-filthy-rodents....senpai has noticed me....

Rules: answer these 21 questions, then tag 21 people you want to get to know better

Nickname: Fang! 

Zodiac: Capricorn.

Height: 5′4. 

Last movie I saw: Oh geez, uh...I think it was The Boy. Hell of a movie if you’re not scared of dolls. 

Last thing I Googled: Something about the Ghost lawsuit because apparently some of the former bandmembers liked/promoted a creepy fanfic involving their former boss or something?? Shit’s wild, man.  

Favorite musician: G-H-O-S-T!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Others include Metallica, Tool, Voltaire, and Abney Park.

Song stuck in my head: This happens all the time. Right now it’s Square Hammer by Ghost. 

Other blogs: I literally just started a ghost headcanons/reader scenarios blog, over at @ghostheadcanons! Feel free to drop in! It doesn’t mean I won’t stop posting Ghost stuff over here, though. You chumps are stuck with me. 

Do I get asks: No, actually, unless I ask for them. It’s alright!

Following: 687

Amount of sleep: 9-12 hours a night and I’m still tired as shit when I wake up.  

Lucky number: 7. 

What I’m wearing: Well...my papal robe...of course.... IN ALL SERIOUSNESS: pajama pants, fuzzy purple socks, and a white T-shirt with a kitten + flowers on it along with the text “DOOM IS NEAR.”

Dream job: A best-selling author who doesn’t have to worry about the stability of her future. 

Dream trip: Honestly, chronic fatigue means I’m exhausted all the time. I don’t have the energy for a trip right now. If I did...I think I’d like to go to Europe, see the sights there. Maybe Italy? 

Favorite food: Pizza, pasta, put it in a box and a whole bunch of different kinds of sweets. Mama’s got a sweet tooth. 

Play any instruments: I used to play piano. Sometimes I still fool around on it. I used to be able to play clarinet when I was in school, I did okay at that. Not anymore, though.

Languages: Just English. Took French in high school, can hardly speak a lick of it now. 

Favorite songs: Honestly, most of Ghost’s discography. Other favorites include The Patient by Tool, The Night by Voltaire and Sad but True by Metallica.

Random fact: The King of Hearts is the only king in a classic 52-card deck that doesn’t have a mustache. 

Describe yourself as aesthetic things: Crumpled candy wrappers. Wind rattling the branches of a tree on a cloudy autumn day. Soft weeping. A flickering candle in the darkness. Goblin eyes. A splatter of ink on parchment. A pair of dice showing the number seven--5 and 2 respectively.

I’m gonna just tag anybody who seems interested in this. You wanna do it? Go for it man, I’m not gonna stop you. 

[fckrman]

up we go • puckdrey

LOCATION: Audrey’s suite and a local park - interactions over text.  WITH: @fckrman / @audreyhq - significant mentions of @rosie-hq. TIME:  May 14, early afternoon. WORD COUNT: 2,362 SUMMARY: Audrey takes it upon herself to tell Puck over text about a conversation she had with Marley. WARNINGS:  Just a lot of fluff, honestly. And I’m roleplaying with myself. Ask me if I care.

Puck’s with Ringo on an early afternoon run, listening to Metallica on full blast through his ear buds when he hears his phone alert him of several texts in rapid succession. It’s strapped to his arm, beneath the sleeve of his t-shirt and Ringo’s on a mission, weaving through the other runners and pets in the park. There’s no time to check it now, nor is he really motivated to. It’s likely his mother reminding him of the service times at the Temple she’s chosen for him in LA; he thinks it’s sweet that she’s convinced he’s gone since moving to California. Puck is a good Jew on the high holidays, and then, and only then, does he let the guilt of not going resonate.

So he keeps running.

* * *

Audrey’s… she’s not sure what she’s doing, actually. It’s just after lunch and she should be editing the video she filmed last night, but instead she’s thinking about her sister and the culmination of everything that’s happened since she moved to HQ and…really… Marley’s happiness. It’s not rare that Audrey’s focused on that - she’s a twin, after all. Marley’s meant the world to her for longer than she can remember, but there’s something haunting about the way they cried together a week ago that Audrey can’t shake.

Marley wants Puck and Audrey to be friends. Friends talk, right?

Sisters, however, respect limits and encourage, rather than go behind one another’s backs.

Still, this feels important to Audrey, and she knows it’s eating Marley up inside. The word love hasn’t crossed her lips in years. This is different. Important. Special.

So she picks up her phone.  

* * *

Ten minutes later, Puck stops for a break. There’s an ice cream truck set up at the edge of the park that’s selling lemonade and he grabs himself a bottle, and some water for Ringo. It’s hot as balls out and he’s catching his breath, elbows resting on his knees when he remembers the texts.

When Audrey’s name comes into focus, Puck’s confused but he scrolls up with his thumb, confirming that all the messages are from her. He leans back on the bench when Ringo finds a shady spot and opens iMessage, brow quirked with curiosity.

This is the first time she’s initiated a conversation with him. He’s been trying the last few days to get to know her better after countless bald statements that he would. Marley suggested a dinner - the 3 of them - but he wonders if she’s mentioned it to Audrey.

Regardless, their conversation yesterday was nothing more than small-talk, and this doesn’t feel like a continuation of that.

* * *

It takes a minute for Audrey to figure out what to say, and when she gets enough courage to type it out, she’s sending fragmented thoughts in several texts, forever cursing her lack of eloquence and overuse of the mouthless emoji. Honestly - no sane human being acts like this.

She’s hit send on the messages - all 5 of them - and waits, hoping that she hasn’t made a terrible mistake.

* * *

[ audrey → puck ]  [ 1:13pm ] Puck, it’s Audrey. I mean, clearly you know that because you texted me yesterday. Anyway. It’s Audrey.

[ audrey → puck ]  [ 1:13pm ] I was hoping you and I could talk? Over text is fine because I know you’re busy and I’m not expecting you to come over or anything, but I just want to like, run a few things past you, so text me back when you get the chance.

[ audrey → puck ]  [ 1:14pm ] It’s about Marley, so. 😶😶😶

[ audrey → puck ]  [ 1:15pm ] And don’t worry, nothing bad happened.

[ audrey → puck ]  [ 1:16pm ] I realize I probably should have led with that. Anyway. Text me back.  😶😶😶

* * *

It’s about Marley. Puck’s unclear what could be happening with her and he’s tentative to reply. He doesn’t talk about Marley with anyone. He talks to her and Puck is too fucking old for gossip.

Still, as he continues to sip on his lemonade, Puck’s curiosity gets the better of him. It’s clear that Audrey’s not trying to be underhanded. The little that he knows about her makes her wonder if it’s possible for her to be shady or divisive at all, really. When he writes back, Puck does so with a strained nonchalance. Maybe she wants a dinner recommendation, or his opinion on a gift or something. That’s the best he can come up with.

* * *

[ puck → audrey ] [ 1:31pm ] Yeah, hey, Audrey. What’s up?

* * *

The fifteen minutes she waits feels like a lifetime, and Audrey waffles between being confident that she’s made the right choice and totally second guessing even starting down this road in the first place. She knows that it’s a risk, and there’s a chance that it could crash and burn in front of her leaving her sister in a desperate state of anger and sadness, but there’s also the risk that Puck feels the way Marley does and everything - everything - that Marley confided in Audrey could come true.

She saw a life with Puck, a family - even if it is the two of them and a dog. Audrey knows how difficult it was for Marley to admit she had feelings for someone, let alone could predict a future. Watching Marley hold herself back from something beautiful was heartbreaking, especially when Audrey’s convinced that the feelings are not so unrequited.

* * *

[ audrey → puck ] [ 1:33pm ] So I was talking to Marley the other day. Congratulations on your dog, by the way. I’m really happy for you.

[ audrey → puck ] [ 1:35pm ] Anyway. She kind of.. she told me about your fight a couple weeks ago and how she felt about it, and like… kind of the aftermath. How much she didn’t want to be fighting with you and how she was kind of struggling with it inside herself, you know? It was a long talk and I think it was really good for her.

* * *

Puck keeps his phone in his hands, Enter Sandman playing as he waits for Audrey’s reply. He can see her bubble disappearing, reappearing, stopping and starting like she’s writing a lot or second guessing herself. Puck can feel his heart in his throat with each passing second.  Was he really supposed to believe that this isn’t serious? If it was, why hadn’t Marley called him herself?

Fuck.

He mentally goes through their conversations from the last few days; everything seemed good on Saturday when he’d received the call from Best Friends. In fact, it was more than good. They had a fucking photoshoot.

Puck shifts on the bench, earning a confused look from Ringo as he moves. He cuts the music on his phone when he finally receives Audrey’s text. The confusion deepens when he reads it. They talked about the fight. Wasn’t that ancient history? Marley told him she’d forgiven him.

* * *

[ puck → audrey ] [ 1:37pm ] Oh. Yeah. That was on me. It… got really fucking out of control, actually. But it’s all good.

[ puck → audrey ] [ 1:38pm ] We’ve hung out since then. Talked about it or whatever, so you don’t gotta worry about it. It’s not gonna happen again.

* * *

Audrey’s next reply is immediate, and she sits on her bed to type it out. Maybe she hadn’t started this in the best way, but she hasn’t always been the most articulate.

She makes herself comfortable against the pillows, trying to convey her point the best she can. there’s no turning back now, and Audrey hopes that Marley will forgive her if this doesn’t work out the way she’s convinced it should - will.

* * *

[ audrey → puck ] [ 1:40pm ] No, I wasn’t trying to try and warn you LOL. I’m not sure anything I can say would really be that threatening anyway.

[ audrey → puck ] [ 1:41pm ] I guess…I just want to tell you something that she told me, and you can decide what you want to do with it? I’m sorry. This is like, super vague and probably super confusing, but I’m still trying to convince myself that it’s the right thing to do.

[ audrey → puck ] [ 1:43pm ] And again.. I promise she’s not hurt or anything, I just want you to like, hear me out and then you can do whatever you want to. Deal?

* * *

[ puck → audrey ] [ 1:43pm ] Yeah, sure. Come at me.

* * *

[ audrey → puck ] [ 1:45pm ] I know you know her well. Like, almost as good as I do at this point. Almost. LOL.

[ audrey → puck ] [ 1:46pm ] I think you’re probably the friend she’s has the longest since…ever. Apart from me. Anyway. That’s not really the important part.

[ audrey → puck ] [ 1:49pm ] Marley’s like… not very good at expressing her feelings about people and hasn’t been for a long time. I’m sure you know all about Dylan and how that happened and like, the aftermath and all of that. Plus our mom and dad didn’t end well, and me and my husband are kind of… not really that happy couple. Obviously. We’re in the middle of a divorce now. But while that’s all happening to me, Marley sees it, obviously. And she’s been helping me through it when I tell her what’s going on. Truthfully there hasn’t been a lot of that recently. I’ve been kind of keeping things to myself.

[ audrey → puck ] [ 1:52pm ] Anyway. What I’ve been trying to build up to here is just… I know that she thinks of you as more than just a friend. It’s not casual observation or even observation at all because she’s told me about it. She’s… it’s new, but she’s got feelings for you that are pretty serious, and they’re pretty hard for her to express.

[ audrey → puck ] [ 1:55pm ] I guess what I’m saying is that… if there’s any chance that you might feel like that toward her to just… maybe talk to her about it? Whenever you want, obviously. Because when she came over it was actually really… it was pretty heart breaking to have her so scared of losing someone who I know would never want to see her upset. Like, intentionally.

[ audrey → puck ] [ 2:00pm ] So. I’m telling you this and you can do what you want with it. You can even tell her that I told you and if you don’t feel the same, she can be mad at me and I’ll figure out what to do on my own because I know Marley and I know that she’ll come around when she understands that I’m not like… trying to hurt her either. But I’ve watched you guys together and listened to what she’s told me about you and the time you spend together, and I don’t think it’s too far out of left field to think that maybe you might have feelings for her too.

[ audrey → puck ] [ 2:01pm ] Long story short - she loves you. Please be careful with her heart.

* * *

Audrey knows she’s rambling, but she had a tendency to lose herself in the moment when she’s on a roll. It’s not necessarily bad, trying to cover all her bases as she types, but she wonders what it means when Puck doesn’t respond.

It’s more than fifteen minutes without a text in reply and the lump in her throat matches the knot in her stomach that’s been building for almost an hour. Maybe it’s because he sees her typing, finding more things to add on or change that he’s just watching, reading and trying to digest. The more she’s thought about it, the less convinced that Audrey is that this is a surprise. It can’t be; there has to be a piece of him that knows that what he has with Marley is different than the other people at HQ. Hopefully Puck just needs a push in the right direction.

* * *

He’s been staring at his phone for — twenty minutes? Maybe longer? Audrey’s got a lot to say and it’s almost comical watching the next set of dots appear just as he finishes reading a message. It’s a lot to take in, really.

Puck’s been close to Marley since the day they both arrived at New Directions, and sure, he felt something between them change these last few months. It’s natural, he assumed, that their relationships would like, mature or change or whatever the better they got to know each other. He hadn’t accounted for the jealousy and the lash-outs, the possibility that he might not be her fucking favourite, as Marley so angrily reminded him during their fight. It was immature - he knew it - to be motivated by those feelings, but there was a part of him, even at 28, that couldn’t help it.

When he sees the last message, Puck stares until his eyes glaze over and he feels Ringo nudge at his ankle. They’ve been sitting for longer than his dog is used to, and honestly, Puck wanted to be back in the building fifteen minutes ago.

He has to say something back - something that will assure Audrey that he’s not fucking ignoring her message and hears her loud and clear.

Puck types out a reply to Audrey after another long beat, then starts on his way back home, this time taking his time to clear his head and appreciate the moment with his dog by his side.

* * *

[ puck → audrey ] [ 2:06pm ] I will be.

[mytherapistthinksiamfunny]

Remember The Titans and Black Lives Matter

I learned American History from Hollywood films and pop culture during the Bush Administration. 

My 6th grade teacher was horrified to see my potential wasting away on the frivolity of Based on True Event sport blockbusters and Remakes of Dystopian Nightmares, Sarcastic Teeny Bop Melodramas. 

Or, worse, the Hippy Dippy Nonsense genres that encouraged the youth to remain ignorant Sheeple With A Death Wish like Jackass or Gossip Girl

Despite how that sounds, he wasn’t a condescending prick. He was a good man with very high standards for media that he came off as a snob. Because he was. A snob. With so much nerd rage. That’s what made us bond.

You see, I’m a snob too. I had to be. I am the daughter of immigrants. And I grew up during the Bush Administration. 

I grew up during a time of Prop 187, El Nino, El Morro, Thalia Y Tomy Motola y el secuestro, Pasale Paisano, anti-Cuba sentiment, Fake News, Columbine, Hanging Chads, 9/11/01, Pseudo-Fascism, WMDs, Jingoism, Patriot Acts, They’re Gonna Follow Us Home, Shakira, Katrina, George W Bush Hates White People Kanye Scandal, Militia, NRA Guantanamo, Dixie Chicks, A Day Without A Mexican, Selena the Movie, El CHupacabra, End of the American Dream, Once In A Lifetime Breaking News TRL Britney Once In A Lifetime Civil Unrest Breaking News Breaking News Narco Corridos Breaking News Miramax Breaking News Anthrax Breaking News Marylin Manson, Las Hijas De Juarez, Eugenio Derbez, La Escuelita,  Los Tigeres Del Norte, Los Tucanes De Tijuana, Napster, Metallica Some Kind of Monster, Bono, Apple, Pixar, MySpace, AIM, new tech every 6 months, cell phones, Reggeaton, Walter Mercado Primer Impacto, American Idol,

To boot, I am the daughter of immigrants. Who were hyper-Catholic. And narcissists. And abusive. And alcoholics. Who were allergic to stability, progress, open-mindedness, or anything conducive to raising children in a global crisis. 

So I had to be selective about the media that I consumed. Because my mother was a Batman Villain, my paternal-figure was a reluctant father unwilling to abandon his fuckboi ways for his family, and my brother and I were left to our own devices to figure out how to raise ourselves and our parents. We sucked at it. And years later we are paying for trying.

So, while navigating the highs and lows of our own puberty-induced hormonal roller coaster, we had to think quick and raise our 2nd-adolescence shit show of a parental unit.

We were parentalized. I didn’t know it at the time, but that is what happened to us.

What I did know at the time is that I needed to figure out how to live. Come up with a division of labor within the family unit and ensure that everyone played their role. You know, like the mother typically does.

And in order to play my role, I had to be studious of this different culture. Not just American culture. Not just teen culture. Not just Mexican culture. But all of them. Somehow, I had to find a way to navigate life. Since the age of 9 years old.

It’s exhausting having to be the adult of the house. I did not have a chance to be a child. Or matter to anyone. So I learned to matter to myself.

I learned not to trust anyone to be part of my support system because the people who were supposed to show me what that looked like were emotionally unavailable. And they stubbornly refused to divorce because that would mean they had failed their culture and religion and would be ostracized from the communities made of individuals they hated but stubbornly worked to impress and fit into.

And that meant that I befriended a strange array of really awesome people who made me feel seen and heard and understood. Like this Santa Clause-looking white dude with a motorcycle fetish and a kind touch with prepubescent girls with culture shock and daddy issues. Best of all, he was genuine. And sweet. And not at all inappropriate with children. That’s not sarcasm. He was not inappropriate with me or anyone else that I knew of. He truly was a great teacher.

Which is why I tried to keep in touch with him long after 6th grade. He was a computer nerd and introduced me to the wonder of the internet. And internet humor. And being opinionated. He was my Big Guy Bow Tie.

His opinion meant so much to me and I wanted to please him so badly.

And not once did he cross a line that would make it harder for me to thrive and move past the other trauma I was being exposed to. 

How sad that I feel compelled to reiterated that he never diddled me. Sad for his reputation and sad that I have come to terms with how vulnerable I was to predators. 

He was a real one.

I knew that my feelings were not normal in the broader sense of the word. But I understood that it was all I had to work with  and make magic with it. So I figured out that I would have to be very guarded and selective with my time, effort, and social circle. Which often meant I was the smart young adult in a group of what I thought were sophisticated adults but were really ghost of my future if I did not get past my daddy issues in a healthy way.

By the time I got to high school, I was the weird kid

I had no idea how I got there. But I had to figure out how to follow my passion without wasting my potential.

My passion is art. Specifically, music. But in general? Art. Books, Poetry. Knowledge.

And because that wasn’t complicated enough: I was discovering my own sexuality. 

And the first born first generation Mexican American with hyper Catholic parents.

I may as well have come out as a supporter of the Axis of Evil

They would never understand that I was ACTUALLY part of the Axis of Awesome

They would not understand. It would be lost in translation

So I had to learn to be silent with my truth. Forever hiding in the shadows and wondering when my life might begin

It began when I learned that the library was my escape. That I could learn about anything I wanted with very basic tools and that my ingenuity would get me far

But what does any of this have to do with Remember The Titans? Or Black Lives Matter?

Well... everything.

Because in addition to my parents being old fashioned and abusive, they were also closet racists. I had to teach myself not to ingrain their prejudices as I trusted them to keep me alive. I had to walk a very fine line between Daddy’s Girl and Daddy Issues. A fine line between Mommy’s Little Princess and Mother Knows Best and No The Fuck You Don’t.

And I managed to do that with the renaissance of black content creators in the early 2000s. Remember the Titans was a favorite of mine. 

Little did I know

I was teaching myself to experience different cultures without appropriating them. I found what I was into and I immersed myself in it.

But I hid it. I silenced my opinions and tried to keep the peace. For the sake of my family.

That did not work. Shocking.

But I was left with the realization that even though my effort was wasted with my nuclear war of a family, I learned valuable lessons that I taught myself. Including that Black Lives Matter, anyone who has trouble acknowledging that needs to grow the fuck up and learn something cause we’re running out of time and ain’t nobody got time for ignorance an fear with a mad man in the white house.

And I don’t want to miss out on my life simply because I come from dysfunction and am constantly playing catch-up to understand what normal is and how to achieve it

I am not alone in this. I come from a generation of American children who learned to cope with complex issues of race, politics, satire, drugs, over-medication. self-medication, financial irresponsibility, weaponized faith and ignorance. It was the dawn of the age of the Basket of Deplorables. And Millenials were caught in the crossfire. I was caught. And I learned. Black. Lives. Matter. Women have voices and opinions that matter and a feminine point of view is crucial to the success of any business endeavor. I taught myself feminism and  committed to its intersectionality before I knew it may be a word the dictionary I owned was missing. I learned that words matter because language has power. I tasted the crispness of that juicy apple from the tree of knowledge. And I wanted to marinate in its juices until i was good and goddamn ready to be tasted and known myself.

Oh yeah, I learned my Daddy Issues manifest themselves in a need to sexually please emotionally unavailable men.

So I chose as wisely as I could. You know, what with the inmates running the asylum 

But my god am I into drummers! And linebackers! And Cheating Ass Marine  Motherfuckers With Secret Families in Portland who Ghost a Bitch Just When She’s About to Fall!!!

My picker is off. I learned that phrase from Loveline. Another resource in my quest to exist in my natural state

Having to twist myself into a pretzel to please the un-pleasable was unsuccessful. 

So I stopped and focused on my real family. My chosen family. Those who care if I live, die, have food and rent money, and ask me to text them when I get home so they know I am safe. Those people. My people. I go hard for them. And they are various heights, weight-classes, political affiliations, complexions. because I learned that black lives matter. As well as Asian American Lives. And Migrant Lives. And Femme Lives. And LGBTQIA+ Lives. In essence, ALL LIVES MATTER INCLUDING BLACK LIVES. Because life is too hard in it’s natural state to be excluding people from We The People. Because the America I Still Believe in does not allow for any of this maga shit to stand

Because we need to be allies for each other against the real danger to this country. 

Internalized Systemic Racism and how it has been exploited to separate the working classes in a strict divide down socio-economic boundaries that are not easily crossable. This phenomenon is often called a glass ceiling. Minorities are particularly affected. But that doesn’t mean that all white people are to blame or responsible or immune. You see, I’ve read the Handmaid’s Tale. 

And while everyone is looking at the Scarlet Robe of the Handmaids and the Serene Teal of the Wives, no one looks at the EconoWives. Wife Trash, I suppose.

Much like the Titans’ football season. High school seniors in a recently-desegregated town. Sounds like the plot of a Disney movie or a Based On True Events TV movie

Gee... I can’t imagine why I related to this...

But I did and I learned from it. I learned that it takes effort to make a champion. And it is not accomplished alone. And while the odds may be ever against you

You have to decide what matters to you. And if that is football, you listen to your brothers on the team and keep your circle small.

And if that is closet-cases that fear for their safety when outed

And if that is a mother at 9 years old because that is how old you were when you realized you were more emotionally intelligent than your own pathetic excuse for a mother who is really a batman villain who you will later turn into if you don’t watch out for the stalker tendencies now and your fuckboi father who still cheats on your mother because this is a pity marriage that neither of them are ready to end even though everyone would be better off, especially your brother who is a precious little squish but being psychologically handicapped by the Stephen King Novel raising him and who is so much like you but you won’t know that for several years because you’re just a child and what do you know what normal is or is not supposed to feel like...

Then that’s just what the fuck it means.

My therapist asked me how I’m doing in 2020 with my depression and the isolation and what I think about the protests.

Like if the logic behind the protests was up for debate. Or if it was a political statement rather than a statement of human compassion and empathy to say that 

Black

Lives

Matter.

I guess she hasn’t seen Remember the Titans

[askeletonintheclosetfic]

The one that’s lonely and has writer’s block

"Sit down, got another letter to write, think hard, gotta get a letter just right. Little ringin' on the telephone oh no, gotta write another letter!" -"Got the Time", Anthrax (originally from Joe Jackson)

Fun fact: this chapter was inspired by a true event that happened to me, and that’s all I’m gonna say about it 😉

*smut warning*

September 30, 1986.

 James' words have been haunting me non-stop since that night. It also doesn’t help matters that he called again the next day to tell us that, because of this, most of the tour is canceled for the time being and they’re coming home. 

That is until they can find out a replacement for the bass position.

I talked to Clara about it yesterday when I went over to their house to see if Ceecee was handling the news about Cliff well. And Clara, who was sitting on the front porch right then with her black shades over her face and taking a break from painting, told me that his words could've been from the spur of the moment.

"He probably just got to a phone," she suggested, holding her cane right in between her legs. “And maybe—since it sounds as though it just happened when he called you—he wanted to tell you as like a ‘fear of God’ got put into him. That’s just my guess. He might love you, though.”

“I can’t stop thinking about it, though,” I confessed to her.

“Hey, you know, if it makes you feel better—I can’t help but think if that was either Frankie or Charlie. If either of them got thrown from the bus as it fell down on them and crushed them to death.”

“It probably happened right after I got off the phone with Joey.”

“So you can’t help but wonder if that could’ve been him, too.”

“Right. Anthrax could’ve been right behind Metallica’s bus for all I know...”

Meanwhile, at the moment I have an essay to write but I don’t know where to begin with it. So here I am, writing in my journal again. I have this weird inclination within me to cut again, but I just can’t.

I’m gonna call Joey again. I need to talk to him. He worries about me getting murdered; I worry about him dying in a road accident.

.

.

.

I just got off the phone with him, and—

Quite the interesting conversation I had with him in the past two hours. It helps that I’m alone again. His words are so clear and crisp in my mind.

I went into the kitchen initially for the phone up on the wall and dialed his number. I waited for a few seconds until he answered, and I knew he was tired by the break in his voice. Or perhaps he had been grieving Cliff the whole way home, it was hard to tell.

“You know what’s really fucked up about it with me is I’ve really been getting to know Metallica, too,” he explained.

“I can’t help but think that I’m never going to see him again,” I told him.

“Oh I know! I was talking to Frankie on the flight home and he told me it’s gonna be a while before he gets his head around it. I mean, really, to think he was just here. He was just here with us and that shit happened...”

“James told me Cliff was ejected right as it came down on him.”

“That’s what Lars told me, too. Kirk told me they drew—cards, I think? To see who would sleep up there on the ride down—we were going to Copenhagen next, where Lars is from. I guess Cliff drew the short one.”

“Ceecee’s just—she’s an absolute wreck right now.”

“Oh, I bet. Frankie and Charlie were both in tears on the way home. Scott, Danny, and I were all dead silent. When we got to the airport, our manager Jonny told the five of us to go home and hug our parents.”

“And that’s what you did?” The first time I smiled right then,

“Yeah, I just got home from their place in this little town just south of me called Minetto and told them what happened. My mom gave me the biggest hug around my waist and my dad told me to stay the night. So that’s what I did yesterday. And I’m glad you called when you did because I was just about to get something to eat. Let’s see, you’re three hours behind me—being over in Europe royally fucked up my internal clock so the time’s throwing me a bit. What’cha doin’ right now?”

“Oh, just hanging out. I have writer’s block, so it’s unknown if I can write another song pretty soon for you guys.” I debated whether I wanted to tell him I’m going to school or not given he worries about me.

“You know, I’ve been thinking—if and when we head out on the road again—we should find a way to take you ladies with us. It’d get you the hell away from the King of Hearts, that’s for sure.”

“I’m also feeling kinda lonely,” I confessed. “Ceecee’s been so despondent the past couple of days and Clara’s been up to her eyeballs in art making.”

“She still wanna make something for me?”

“She sure does! But I don’t know if she’s started on it yet, though, and she won’t tell me. She might wanna make it a surprise for all of us.”

I heard him take a seat on something rickety, like an old wooden chair. “For all I know,” I began again, “she might wanna a photo of you, though.”

“I was never much of a model, though.”

“Seriously? You’d make a great male model.”

“With all this hair, I don’t think so.”

“Maybe you can do some convincing a la your voice so you can keep your long luxurious curls.”

“Luxurious?” That brought a chuckle out of him.

“Luxurious, lush, flowing... whatever you want.”

“I should pose like the statue of David. I am skinny enough and I am Italian after all.”

“With your clothes off?”

“Maybe. Unless she wants me to keep ‘em on, then—eh, you never know. Most of my shirts in my closet are belly shirts after all.”

“Wear something slinky for her, maybe?”

“Unless she asks me to strip naked and spread my butt apart.”

“Or I ask you to.”

“What!”

And then I realized what I just said. I clasped a hand over my mouth. I felt my face grow warm, and I was unsure if it was from what I said or the thought of him posing naked for Clara.

“Wait a minute—“ he stammered out. “What did I say?”

“Something about getting naked and spreading your butt apart?”

“That’s what I thought... I can’t believe I just said that, too.”

“I kinda can?” I admitted to him.

“Helps that you threw in that bit about asking me to, too.” He started laughing right then.

“I didn’t even realize I said it like that, either. Me asking you to get naked.”

“Get naked and—maybe—fuck around a bit?”

“What’re you saying?”

“Well, you know—you ask me to get—“ He cleared his throat. “—naked and show myself to you and one of your best friends, but show myself to you first.”

“Are you—?”

“Maybe. Unless you want me to.”

“But we’re over the phone, though.”

“So? I got to sing to you over the phone. Why can’t we do—“

“Do this?”

“Yeah.” He cleared his throat again. “I’ve got time, you know.”

“I do, too.”

“I love how we’re sad at first and then almost out of the blue, we start talking about sex,” he laughed. And I laughed with him for a moment before speaking again.

“Well, I should tell you this, Joseph,” I began again, “—since you wrote to me, and the King of Hearts has only gotten more and more notorious with time—the feeling is intense right now. And when there’s intensity surrounding a relationship, it only brings them closer together.”

“And?”

“And? Well—I have to—“ I hesitated.

“What?”

I swallowed. I didn’t want to say it to him, but I had already crossed the threshold.

“Wha-a-a-at!” I heard him stamp his feet on his end.

“I have to confess it’s kind of—“

“Kind of? Yes?”

“—hot.”

“Oh, is it now?”

“Yeah. It’s very hot. The feeling of death hanging over us all—a pervading feeling of having my heart mutilated against my broken rib bones, hearing the news of one of your own having gone down to his gruesome demise... I can’t help but feel... aroused, I would say?”

“God, you speak so poetically. I couldn’t have said it any better to be honest.”

“With that velvet tongue?”

“The same velvet tongue that wants to taste every bit of your coochie?”

“You have to earn it,” I scolded him.

“What must I do to earn it?”

“Get naked. Come on, big boy.”

“My pants are gettin’ a little tight after all...”

“Oh my God, you sexy, sexy man.”

“I try my best.”

“You do wonderful, big boy.”

“I like how you call me big boy.”

“‘Cause you’re a big boy.”

“I ain’t that big—oh, you mean that! Well, how would you know? You’ve never seen me like that.” I heard something rustle which was then followed by something, probably his pants, unzipping.

“I kinda wanna find out,” I confessed.

“Well, you’re gonna haveta be patient, doll.”

“And you’re still gonna have to earn it.”

“Ehhhh, you caught me. I just unzipped my pants. I am laying my back, though.”

“Laying on your back so I can do a number on your cock, ya bad boy?”

“You wanna take my picture or ring my bell?”

“Both. Again. You gotta earn it. Bad boy.”

I took a seat at the kitchen table because I got tired of standing up there with my shoulder against the wall.

“You know, I took a shower a little while ago while Clara was over and she almost walked in on me.”

“Oh my God really?”

“Yeah.”

“Ohhhhh so you wanna picture me naked, you want me to do the same for you?”

“Maybe.”

“Yeah, I’m totally picturing the water pouring all over your naked body. All wet—and with nowhere to go except right over my erection.”

“If your erection was in there with me, I’d slap it to the side. I’m tryin’ to wash myself, ya bad boy.”

“Yeah, but if I join you, it saves water, though. It’d wash away our cum while we’re there.”

“Maybe yours.”

“Alright, you know what? Just for that, I oughta spank you. I oughta get you in the shower with your pants still on and spank you so that your wet pants will make your ass cheeks more red than your pussy.”

 (Charlotte’s note:...damn.)

 “You wish,” I teased him. “Not if I smack your cock so hard it’ll catch you by surprise and that’ll leave you nowhere to go but into the shower with me. Your black curls will get all wet but it’s all for the better ‘cause I’m gonna make you use that velvet tongue of yours on my pussy and then in my nipples. And I’m gonna keep slapping your cock until I say you’re good for a round on the floor.”

 (Charlotte’s note: ...DAMN.)

 “Wow. Maybe I oughta... consider taking a picture of myself for Clara and see where we go from there.”

“You go right ahead, big boy.”

“You know what? If the tour doesn’t resume for a few months—and since my birthday is on the thirteenth—we oughta fly out and visit you ladies.”

“You just wanna make this real.”

“Unless you want to. You’d be a little less lonely.”

“True. And maybe I wanna make it real, too.”

“Alright. So next time we see each other—me and Anthrax with you, Ceecee, and Clara—I’m bringing one thing for Clara—oh, but wait.”

“What?”

“It wouldn’t work. She’s blind, remember?”

“Oh right! Duh! But I admit that sometimes I forget she’s totally blind. Maybe she can feel you like she did with Frankie and Charlie.”

“Or maybe you wanna feel me. But that’s a whole other can of worms, doll face.”

“Just a sign that you wanna play out this whole thing with me, though.”

“Of course. We’ll play it by ear and see where it goes from here. My belly’s rumbling so—I’m gonna go eat something.”

“Not like you wanna eat me?”

“Nah, you’re a whole meal altogether.”

 I will give Joey this: my writer’s block is gone now.

[tonystarkjr]

LYRIC PROMPTS

Some Prompts that are lyrics from very cute and lovely songs. There are always two lines. One for Person A and one for Person B.

A

 „You ain't no lady but you've sure got taste in men.“ – „But I've been told by friends of mine you're someone I can trust.“ (AC/DC - Carry Me Home)

„You say you want the truth, but you can't take it. So I give you lies.“ – „I won't apologize to you anymore. Cause I'm a grown-ass man.“ (Adam Lambert – There I Said it)

„Everybody loves the things you do. From the way you talk to the way you move“ - „My God, this reminds me. Of when we were young.“  (Adele – When we Were Young)

„I don't want to hurt you but I need to breathe!“ -  „At the end of it all, you're still my best friend.“  (Alex Clare – Too Close)

„I'm getting sick of your bullshit attitude.“ – „Do you want me. Or do you want me dead?“  (All Time Low – Do You Want Me (Dead)?)

„Tell me how am I supposed to breathe. When losing you is choking me?“ – „I still remember that empty look left on your face.“ (The All-American Rejects – Heartbeat Slowing Down)

 „I'm so into you, I can barely breathe.“ – „A little bit dangerous, but, baby, that's how I want it.“ (Ariana Grande – Into You)

„I want to show you who I really am.“ – „I wanna get to know you, talk all night.“ (Aura Dione – Masterpiece)

„Now don't you tell me to leave you alone.“ – „I want you to touch me.“ (Avicii – Touch Me)

„I don’t like your girlfriend!“ – „I think we should get together now.“ (Avril Lavigne – Girlfriend)

B

„Add on that I'm a coward. Too scared to return your calls.“ – „Despite how silly it sounds. You're bigger. Than me.“ (Backstreet Boys – Bigger)

„And you said you always had my back.“ – „I don’t wanna hear you talk about it anymore.“ (Bastille – Bad Blood)

„Who the fuck do you think I am?“ – „And keep your money, I've got my own.“ (Beyoncé – Don’t Hurt Yourself)

„And I'm too fucked up.“ – „But I know I'll never be that cool.“ (Blink 182 – Apple Shampoo)

„They don't think you're all that cool. They like you for your step-dad's pool.“ – „Hey you, you dance like those assholes I see.“ – (Bloodhound Gang – Uncool As Me)

„I really want you to really want me, but I really don't know if you can do that.“ – „And you're listening to the sound of my breaking heart.“ – (James Blunt – I Really Want You)

„For the love of god, will you bite your tongue.“ – „I think it's time you knew the truth.“ – (Bring Me The Horizon – Go To Hell, For Heaven’s Sake.)

„My mouth is shut, my lips are sealed.“ – „I should have turned and walked away.“ (Billy Talent – The Crutch)

„Don't believe me just watch.“ – „Gotta kiss myself I'm so pretty.“ (Bruno Mars – Uptown Funk)

„Don't try and heal me when I'm broken.“ – „This might be hard to hear.“ (Bullet For My Valentine – Broken)

C

„It's way too soon, I know this isn't love.“ – „But I need to tell you something.“ (Carly Rae Jepsen – Really Like You)

„I've been waiting all night long to know your name.“ – „You've been so cold.“ (Chris Brown – I’ll call ya)

„I only got 10 likes in the last 5 minutes.“ – „Let me take another selfie.“ (The Chainsmokers - #Selfie)

„Don't you ever say I just walked away.“ – „I will always want you.“ (Miley Cyrus – Wrecking Ball)

D

 „There are so many things that I don't understand.“ – „I've been, for sometime, looking for someone.“ (Daft Punk  - Within)

„Leave him alone, let him go!“ – „Only you can stop the pain.“ (David Guetta – Used To Be The One)

„Can't you act your age“ - „It's not my fault you'll never be happy.“  (A Day To Remember – Best Of Me)

„And all that I want is forgiveness one more time.“ – „To be the best in the world.“ (Disturbed – Just Stop)

E

„Maybe you could swing by my room around 10:00.“ – „Don’t fuck with my love.“ (Ed Sheeran – Don’t)

„You shoot me once, you shoot me twice.“ – „Let me show you what I'm talking about.“ (Enrique Iglesias)

„I'm on my own.“ – „I think I'm falling and there's no return.“ (Enter Shikari – One True Colour)

F

„I'm just a notch in your bedpost.“ – „I've been dying to tell you anything you want to hear.“ (Fall Out Boy – We’re Going Down)

G

„All that I remember is that you had me at hello.“ – „What happened? Did it happen? Last night.“ (Good Charlotte – Last Night)

„I heard you crying loud.“ – „You’ve been thinking about ditching me.“ (Green Day – When i come around)

„
It’s a mystery how you sleep at night.“ – „
I give you so many chances, but you screw them all up.“ (Gossip – I Won’t Play)

H

„Baby just don't close your heart.“ – „It's all going wrong.“ (HIM – Don’t close your Heart)

I

Come with me and we will run away.“ – „I am all you adore, lately.“ (Imagine Dragons – Hear Me)

J

„If you don't want me to leave then don't push me away.“ – „I'm gonna stay.“ (James Morrison – Dont Wanna Love Me)

„How much I adore those pretty eyes of yours.“ – „Can you love me for a lifetime or just one night.“ (Jennifer Lopez – Baby I Love You)

„I'm gonna be be good so tell me that you're gonna be good too.“ – „I'm gonna treat you right.“ (Jonas Brothers – BB Good)

„'Cause I'm missing more than just your body.“ – „I know you know that I made those mistakes maybe once or twice.“ (Justin Bieber – Sorry)

„Beautiful smile with those sad eyes.“ – „I don't know why you'd leave me alone.“ (Justin Timberlake – Amnesia)

K

„You’re so sad maybe you should buy a happy meal.“ – „You’re so skinny you should really Super Size the deal.“ (Katy Perry – Ur So Gay)

„Never thought that you would be the one.“ – „Maybe you shouldn't Kiss 'n' tell.“ (Ke$ha – Kiss N Tell)

„Taking me higher than I've ever been before.“ – „You're just another day that keeps me breathing.“ (Kiesza – Hideaway)

L

„I just want you alone“ - „It wasn't love, it wasn't love.“ (Lady Gaga – Perfect Illusion)

„You say that you are proud of me.“ – „You’re not the one that you pretend to be.“ (Linkin Park – Pretend To Be)

„Forget that boy, I'm over it.“ – „Guess I should say thank you.“ (Little Mix – Shout Out To My Ex)

M

When I'm without you. I'm so insecure.“ – „Don't let nobody touch it. Unless that somebody's me.“ (Maroon 5 – Sugar)

„I have the loves of many men. But I don’t love any of them.“  - „Why do you cheat on me?“ (Metallica – Cheat On Me)

„I got a bulletproof heart.“ – „Let me be the one to save you.“ (My Chemical Romance – Bulletproof Heart)

N

„And my heart feels a fool.“ – „Can't stop thinking of you, cause I'm so jealous, baby.“ ( New Kids on the Block – Jealous)

O

„Counted all my mistakes and there's only one.“ – „Yeah, it took me some time, but I figured out.“ (One Direction – Where do Broken Hearts Go?)

„I can only be myself.“ – „I'll never forget you.“ (Olly Murs – Tryna change me)

„But you confuse me.“ – „I said babe do you want to take it fast or slow?.“ (OneRepublic – The Less I Know)

P

„Do I look lonely?“ – „Am I the best you've ever had?“ (Panic! At The Disco – Death of a Bachelor)

 „Maybe if I act like that, that guy will call me back.“ – „I cannot take any more.“ (P!nk – Stupid Girls)

„I know you like me.“ – „Let's keep it friendly.“ (The Pussycat Dolls – Don’t Cha)

„Hate is a strong word.“ – „Thought you thought that I was worth it.“ (Plain White T’s –Hate Really Don’t Like You)

Q

 „The Show must go on.“ – „Inside my heart is breaking.“ (Queen – The Show Must Go On)

R

„I forgot your birthday.“ – „I'm a mess.“ (The Rasmus – I’m A Mess)

„Show me what it is you believe in.“ – „Do you want to get up early in the morning?“ (Red Hot Chili Peppers – We Turn Red)

„Tell me why don't you bring me flowers?“ – „Tell me why don't you notice me?“ (Roxette – Why Don’t You Bring Me Flowers?)

„But we haven’t kissed for four days.“ – „If we go down, we’re going down together.“ (Robin Schulz – Titanic)

„I'm no good without you.“ – „Just love me.“ (Rihanna – Love On The Brain)

„Why are you not afraid?“ – „I have learned to stand up and just to walk away.“ (Rise Against – Beautiful Indifference)

„Come in and close the door.“ – „But now you know me so you know that I'd be lying.“ (Robbie Williams – Motherfucker)

S

„You say I'm crazy.“ – „I know I'm not the only one.“ (Sam Smith – Not The Only One)

„Why do you say things. If you do not mean them.“ – „And now i can’t sleep.“ (Shakira – Cut Me Deep)

„I found a note with another name.“ -  „I can't bite my tongue forever.“ (Simple Plan – Your Love Is A Lie)

„I'm talking to myself.“ – „Forgot what I just said.“ (Sum 41 – All Messed Up)

„I can break your heart.“ – „you think you are to good for anyone.“ (Sunrise Avenue – I Can Break Your Heart)

 T

„You look like my next mistake.“ – „'Cause, darling, I'm a nightmare dressed like a daydream.“ (Taylor Swift – Blank Space)

„I never sleep.“ – „I wish I knew what it was like.“ (Three Days Grace – I Am Machine)

„I am not as fine as I seem, pardon.“ – „The game is not played alone.“ (Twenty One Pilots – Migraine)

U

„I swear to tell the truth.“ – „But I guess my love wasn't good enough.“ (Usher – Guilty)

V

„Did you say the thing you wanted?“ – „Have you ever felt in love?“ (Volbeat – Goodbye Forever)

W

„You're only looking for attention.“ – „What do you expect now?“ (The Weeknd – Attention)

„Listen to Iron Maiden maybe with me?“ – „And he doesn't give a damn about me.“ (Wheatus – Teenage Dirtbag)

Z

„I'd love to wake up next to you.“ – „So we'll piss off the neighbours.“ (Zayn Malik – Pillowtalk)

#

„What happened to just messing around?“ „I’ll break your Heart“ (The 1975 – Girls)

„He treats you so bad and I'm so good to you it's not fair.“ – „Thanks for being a friend.“ (5 Seconds of Summer – Heartbreak Girl)

[eltevedt-gondolat]

I was tagged by @gl0rified-ignorxnce (like 3 days ago, I know, I know... I didn't forget about it I just didn't have time to do it) thank you so much for tagging me💕💕

1. Why did you choose your url? kinda mistranslated lyrics from Sad but True by Metallica. I think I chose it after I started to listen to Metallica. brilliant song btw!! has been my favourite song ever since. I’ve had this url for many years, plus it sounds better in Hungarian and I love it so I'm not changing it now

2. Any side blogs? I've got 16 😂😂🤦‍♀️ not that it stops me from posting fandom content on my main blog...

3. How long have you been on Tumblr? since 2013. so that’s... 8 years

4. Do you have a queue tag? I never queue posts. I reblog 20 posts in the span of 30 minutes then I disappear for hours

5. Why did you start your blog in the first place? I was 14, I was depressed, I had a really hard time figuring out who I am, and I needed a safe place where I could be depressed without bothering anyone. many of my internet friends had a tumblr so I made one too. I don't use my first blog anymore but I still have it (and it's pathetic. but it helped me a lot at the time)

6. Why did you choose your icon/pfp? I don't even remember... I probably stole it from We Heart It many years ago and now I'm so used to it I don't want to change it

7. Why did you choose your header? I love Van Gogh😂

8. What’s your post with the most notes? I don't know, not many😀

9. How many mutuals do you have? I have no clue. It's not easy to have mutuals when I like with one blog and reblog with 17

10. How many followers do you have? 2652 on this blog. but I'm pretty sure 80% of those are bots

11. How many people do you follow? 3202

12. Have you ever made a shitpost? I only ever make shitposts

13. How often do you use tumblr a day? too many

14. Did you ever have a fight/argument with another blog? of course. it’s tumblr. I’m pretty sure everyone had an arguement with another blog at some point

15. How do you feel about the ‘you need to reblog’ posts? I don't really like them bth I know it's really important for content creators to get reblogs and not just likes so I try to reblog everything. that why I have so many sideblogs. but I only reblog stuff that I actually like and when I feel like I’m “forced” to reblog something I don’t like I’m not gonna do it

16. Do you like tag games? YES! I love them. but I'm an idiot and I always forget I was tagged so I'm sure that everyone who ever tagged me thinks I hate these things

17. Do you like ask games? Yep. but I never get asks so 🤷🤷‍♀️

18. Which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

I’m not even sure I actually have mutuals🤦‍♀️

19. Do you have a crush on a mutual? of course😳😳

20. Tags!

@darazscsipes-saskarmolas @timetravellerscat @geooooooorge @sebsring @interstellar-taco @maybethiscouldbemyrayofsunshine

I think this is the first time I’m actually tagging someone and it feels weird. so feel free to ignore✌️💗💗

[crowcawcus-blog]

Interview with Rob Crow, circa 2012

Crow says you need to be “a real music nerd” to appreciate Devfits: Devo in the style of the Misfits and vice-versa. When I hear he's playing a benefit for UCSD's Ché Café, I jump at the chance to witness this spectacle.

After scuttling about like any good roadie, setting up his equipment, Crow steps into a corner and wrestles on a suit constructed of duct tape, a creepy skin-toned mask, and thick geeky glasses while a film clip of his five-year-old son instructs the audience to buy lots of merch and tell everyone how well the show went, "even when it sucks."

He bursts out onto stage and takes hold of the mic, which is hopelessly tangled around its stand. After belting out his first lines, he brandished the offending machinery and commands, “Please undo this thing from here.” I grab it and unravel it awkwardly, nearly spearing him in the process. He nevertheless tells me, “Thank you very much,” and forges on.

I'm charmed by his manners, but moments later my opinion shifts when he charges his way through the audience, trailing the mic wire behind him heedlessly. Me and two other spectators barely squirm our way out of a firm trussing-up, and I twist my shoulder in the process.

Yet his performance is hauntingly beautiful, especially his rendition of the Misfits song “Hatebreeders.” (Devfits (Rob Crow) @ The Che Cafe on 01.07.12) The herd of UCSD students seems mostly bemused. Near the end of the set Crow tells us that he’s “been coming to the Ché since way before you were all born, and that's not hyperbole."

Crow steps back into the corner and removes the duct tape suit. I watch him chat with a few fans, and after they help him pack up and he's at liberty, I approach. He greets me with a handshake and another thank-you for detangling his mic. His sweet demeanor makes it easy to screw up the courage to ask if he'd consider an interview.

"Sure!" he agrees. "You know I do 'em all the time, for my podcast. Can it wait a few minutes, though?"

I assure him I'm not going to interrogate him tonight, that I meant to schedule for another time. He looks relieved, pulls some rolled-up t-shirts out of his bag and spreads them out on the merch table, scribbling in Sharpie that they’re available for at least a $10 donation to the Ché. Again I am impressed by his gentility.

I email to ask if I might pick his brain at his "Super Amazing Happy Funtime Night" at Bar Eleven. The poster for the event intrigues me; someone pasted his torso onto a horse's body. He looks natural as a centaur. "Sure!" comes the scarily succinct reply again. I hope the whole interview won't go this way of brevity.

I sip a Monkey Paw Sweet Georgia Brown Ale while he painstakingly plots the trajectory of his projector. Then he upends a bag of 99-cent store toys: 20-piece puzzles, bubble wands, foam airplanes, barrels o' monkeys, and paint-by-numbers on all the bartops and booths. I grab bubbles. Then, again, he retreats to the corner and pulls on... a gorilla suit. Only then does he visibly relax, stationing himself in between the turntable and the bar. The smirking bartender, Justin Bess, hands Crow a beer. I start with what I hope is an innocuous question: why the gorilla suit? 

“’cause I hate thinking about what to wear,” he states matter-of-factly. I blink, at a loss. He adds that often he wears it around the house and forgets to remove it between home and the recording studio.

He downs a draught, then pauses and looks at his cell phone. “My Words are piling up,” he laughs, showing the screen with a long list of Words With Friends requests.

He busies himself in switching vinyl – so far I've heard King Crimson, Metamatics, Nomeansno, The Locust, Dead Ghosts, Electric Light Orchestra, and Neil Young. Does he remember the first album he bought?

"The soundtrack to Over the Edge, a phenomenal movie," he answers immediately. "It's the truest movie about the seventies I've ever seen. Cameron Crowe called it the greatest soundtrack ever. And I spent a lot of money on The Ramones and Cheap Trick."

A glance at the stream of videos on one screen informs me that "Your Masonic friend thinks very highly of you! You should be proud!"

"Where do you find this shit?" slips out of my mouth before I think about it. He chuckles: "I delve."

I inquire as to when he realized his voice is such a beautiful instrument.

“When I was a kid, I always thought I was gonna be a guitar player. The first band I was in [Heavy Vegetable], we didn’t know who would sing, so we’d take turns. I remember we’d go into the bathroom, which we thought would have an awesome reverb effect – which it didn’t -- and sing into this machine, and there was this giant boa constrictor living in the bathtub –"

I can’t help but interrupt. A boa constrictor?

“Yup," he affirms without elaboration, and rattles on: "And I’m standing over the toilet, all wrapped in this snake, with a drink in one hand and a mike in the other, trying to sing this dumb song – everyone liked it. And I thought, ‘Oh, okay.’”

He notes, in fact, that he likes his singing voice but despises his speaking voice as “super-annoying.” I respond that his speaking voice is very pleasing and radio-friendly on his podcast.

“That’s super-edited,” he replies. I shoot him a doubtful look. “Well, I’m being hyperbolic,” he admits.

A Western saloon-fight with dogs as cowboys starts up on the screen, and I remember that Crow said in an interview with popmatters.com (Contrary Opinions) that he does not like dogs.

In the same interview he says he dislikes the Beatles, confessing that “It’s also just really fun to tell people that you hate the Beatles and watch them flip out.” I wonder, therefore, if he’s merely being "hyperbolic" to be provocative. I mean, who doesn’t like dogs unless mauled when young? Does he really hate dogs?

“Ummm, nah," he says vaguely, distracted by a stubborn wrapper on a velvet paint-by-numbers set. "Well, it just depends,” he hems.

He seems disinclined to explain what makes a dog odious or not, so I switch gears. On the cover of his newest solo album, He Thinks He’s People, one of his signature illustrations shows a stick-figure in the doghouse under a starry sky with two feeding bowls labeled “calzones” and “Speedway Stout.” Is Speedway Stout his favorite local brew? “Pretty much. But it’s not something I could drink twenty of in a night.”

I ask, does he get his calzones from Etna’s?

“Noooo, no Etna’s,” he intones firmly. “Luigi’s. Not Pizzeria Luigi’s, who does have the best pizza in San Diego, but Luigi’s At the Beach, in Mission Beach… I’m from New Jersey; I know my calzones. Every year my family and Pushead’s meet to go there.” My eyebrows shoot up, and he pauses to gauge my reaction. “You know who that is?”

I nod. Pushead is a fixture in the heavy metal and punk scene. I best know him for his grotesquely gorgeous Metallica album art which features skulls, twisted body parts, and lots of fire and ooze and gore, beautifully rendered, a stark contract to Crow’s signature stick-figure art.

I mention off-hand that the San Diego Reader called his cover art 'crass.' His eyes flash and his heretofore soft voice increases an octave. “You know, I’ve never NOT been misquoted in those two magazines [the Reader and the San Diego City Beat]."

The white stick figure upon a black background is Pinback’s little unassuming avatar. After a show at the Belly Up I had watched Crow dutifully draw dozens of the unique pictures on tickets, stolen set-lists, and whatever else fans brought up to him. I ask him now, why a stick figure?

“Early in Pinback’s career, we wanted to do everything ourselves,” including album art. He pauses, meditatively, then surges on: “I feel the stick figure represents the Everyman, with all its foibles or alienation or loneliness… it means a lot to me in its sameness. It’s zeroing in on the darkest parts of mortality."

I in no way expected such a profound, introspective reply, and before I feel I’ve grasped it, he continues: “I think art’s pure escapism. It shouldn’t be the purpose of art to really express joy. I mean, through art one should know what true happiness is; but once you know the real states – this whole life-deathy thing we’re in – it becomes this mobius strip…” He trails off and laughs shortly.

“I’ve been in a mid-life crisis since I was 18… manaically depressed. I don’t want to call it a perpetual e-motion-al machine, because that’s just horrible –“ I stop him to demur, because I love wordplay. He shakes his head and continues:

“But to not be able to enjoy the best parts of life because it’s all worthless… worthless!... there’s no hindsight in death – even wasting your time feeling shitty about it is just a waste of the time you have left but you STILL don’t feel great – it’s endless feedback.”

I think of the song “Scalped” from his album. Crow’s plaintive, prophetic voice cants, “I suggest you don’t waste your time... /Don’t kneel to the alter.” When I first read this line, I thought “alter” as opposed to “altar” was merely a [sic] in his handwritten lyrics, but now I think he punned on purpose, implying one shouldn’t live in a constant off/on, binary state. When happy, be happy: don’t dwell upon sadness, or impending mortality. And conversely, if sad, then address it and embrace it, as Crow does with his music.

Then again, maybe he’s just a weak speller. But given his penchant for Words With Friends, that’s improbable.

Does he mind that his solo album wrapper boasts a sticker declaring it "The new album by one-half of Pinback!"? He blinks; it's news to him.

"Does it?... No, I don't mind. What I DO mind is when they call me the Pinback 'Frontman.' It's 100% a collaboration." [with Zach Smith] I ask if he attended Torrey Pines with Smith.

"Errrrr, I got kicked out of all the schools in Oceanside," he states somberly.

Crow's buddy Tony Gidlund, who has listened to my questions with half-lidded and somewhat suspicious eyes, mutters something to Crow, who notes they might not make it. I look at him quizzically. “In-N-Out," Crow explains. "We always try to hit it before they close.” I ask him what he gets, because every late-night fast-food aficionado I know ritualizes what they order, especially after a solid drinking bout of the sort he put in tonight. “Grilled cheese with onions” is the reply.

“Are you vegetarian?” I venture. “Yup! I used to be vegan, but I couldn’t keep it up – It’s awesome, though. I recommend it.”

“But I love eggs,” I frown, “and besides, the chickens GIVE us the eggs, don’t they?"

He looks thoughtfully at his beer and says, “You’re very close to a Woody Allen monologue right now.”

He seems wont to self-effacing mannerisms. His 2007 solo album Living Well features a song called “I Hate You, Rob Crow." He flips off his own reflection in a recent video, “Sophistructure” (a perfect slice of his hypnotic mesh of visual and sonic). And he introduces his podcast, "Rob Crow's Incongruous Show," by styling himself "San Diego's Foremost Overrated Indie-rock Manchild!"

Meaning to explore this theme of self-flagellation, I instead blurt that I think he’s brilliant. Incredulous, he leans over asks me to repeat myself, then utters a short ironic bark of disbelief. “What?! Look at me! I’m in a monkey suit playing with dinosaurs!”

When I mention this to my pub-mate on the right, she nods sagely and says, “He doesn’t revel in himself. He’s an artist but not... pretentious. He’s a creative genius. I mean—“ she breaks off and gestures at one of the screens, currently occupied by a band of skeletal warriors from Jason and the Argonauts who, eerily, are shimmying to the death metal music in perfect time.

As he's packing up, he mentions that today was technically his one day off. "I should've spent it with my mother," he says, mostly to himself. I ask him how his wife feels about his late-night solo projects, and he says that as long as her vampire shows have recorded correctly, she is content.

I ask him if he liked having the last name ‘Crow’ growing up. “No, I didn’t enjoy it especially.” I tell him I really like crows, and instead of giving me the odd look most normal folks do, he says, “The other day there were 43 crows in my yard.” He counted them? “Yup. But when I went to get the camera and they flew away.” Typical Crow behavior.