#I like the idea this dude would’ve became a rock star if he didn’t have to save the world for all eternity

[essycogany]

[outerbankswriting]

Could it be? Chapter 9 (JJ x Reader)

JJ x Reader

CH.1 - CH.2 - CH.3 - CH.4 - CH.5 - CH.6 - CH.7 - CH.8

Description: She has a crush on JJ, but he has always seen her as another one of the “dudes”, or  at least that’s what she thinks so she just doesn’t even try anymore, until things start to shift between the two of them. (A/N: I’M NOT GOOD AT DESCRIPTIONS BUT THESE IS JUST WHAT I WOULD LOVE TO HAPPEN IN OUTER BANKS WITH JJ)

Warnings: pure fluff I guess

CHAPTER 9

Your heartbeats were the only sound you could hear. They went faster and faster as every second went by. Your breathing was matching the pace of them. If you hadn’t had cried your heart out in the shower, tears would’ve been falling down your eyes by now.

“What?” Your voice came out as a whisper.

You turned around to face him, the moonlight coming from your window letting you see the way he was biting his bottom lip and closing his eyes.

“You asked why I cared so much about you dating Rafe.” He replied, his voice soft and low.

You were still trying to process what he’d said before he broke the silence again.

“I’m not expecting you to say anything,” he shook his head and smiled, “I already know the answer.”

“Answer?” Was all you managed to say.

“I just know nothing’s ever going to happen, you’ve made it clear plenty of times before.”

You raised your eyebrows at him as you positioned yourself to move closer to him. His eyes were still fixed on the ceiling. Having known JJ for a long time gave you the knowledge that he avoided eye contact whenever he felt vulnerable.

“JJ that’s n-“

“It’s okay Y/N, you don’t have to sugarcoat anything,” he turned to face you now, giving you a small smile, “I’m alright being in the friendzone.”

“What even are you saying?” You let out a giggle.

You watched as he just shrugged and turned back to face the ceiling. The light coming from the moon allowing you to see him blushing.

“Hey, look at me,” you softly cupped his cheeks making him turn his gaze at you, the look on his face slowing down the pace of your heartbeats.

You softly caressed the small cuts still healing near his eyes, one by one, wishing they could be healed with your touch. Your fingertips traced his jawline, feeling the facial hair wanting to grow but not willing to yet. You were too focused taking in every inch of his face to notice his eyes being mesmerised by your half parted lips, until your fingertips softly traced his bottom lip, making the corners of his mouth lift and his chest rise up as he took a deep breath.

Your eyes finally met his and a wave of warmth covered your body, your soul wanting nothing more than to let him know what he means to you. You slowly cup his cheeks again as he leans towards you until your noses are slightly brushing and for the first time in your life you could tell he was nervous, so you wasted no more time and leaned in closer, brushing your lips against his.

His lips were soft and warm, and you could taste the freshness of the toothpaste the two of you used. The kiss started out slow and soft, almost as if the two of you were scared the other would change their mind at any second.

He pulled back a little, staring at your eyes before you gave him a small smile which made him press his lips against yours harder this time, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pulled you closer to his body, the kiss turning into a hungry one, just like the one of two friends who have been hiding their feelings for each other for months and this kiss was their way of letting everything out.

The two of you pulled away before sharing a couple of small pecks, not wanting to take your hands off each other.

“I can get used to this friendzone.” He grinned and you playfully smacked his shoulder.

You snuggled in closer to his side and let him wrap his arm around your waist as you rested your head against his chest. The slight rocking of his breathing making your eyes feel heavy.

“Can I ask you something?” You whispered.

“You’re not that bad of a kisser,” he replied and you shot a look at him before letting out a laugh, “I’m joking, shoot it.”

“Are you sure you love me?”

The smile on his face faded away and he turned to look at you, the deep crease forming between his eyebrows.

“What do you mean if I’m sure?” He sounded offended.

“I mean,” you sighed, “love is a pretty strong word and I never thought you would feel that way about me.”

You tried to not look at his face but his fingers tilted your chin up leaving you no choice but to stare at his eyes.

“I’ve never felt the way I feel about you with anyone else,” he bit his lips as if he were struggling to let the words out, “you know, there’s just something about you that has always made me feel closer to you and ever since we met and became friends I just can’t get you out of my head and this all sounds so cheesy and I think it’s better if I just shut up.”

“Well you’ve got a way of showing it.” You couldn’t help the smile coming out of your face.

“What’s that about?” He furrowed his brow.

“Telling me about the girls you sleep with, referring to me as a friend whenever you have the chance, constantly talking about how crazy it would be for us to do anything that’s not related to friendship oh and al-“

“Hey, hey, hey, let me stop you right there,” he covered your mouth with his free hand, ignoring your tongue licking it, “you’re the one who started with the ‘nothing’s ever gonna happen between us, it’s just crazy!’”

“In my defense, you’ve always treated me as one of the boys.” You added.

“Oh right I forget I’ve also made out with John B too.”

“I’m serious JJ!” You chuckled, “Plus this is the first time we’ve kissed.”

“Y/N, you don’t see me flirting with the boys and not even with Kie who’s a girl.”

“I thought it was a friendly flirting.” You muttered.

“Friendly flirting?” He let out a laugh, “What the fuck is that?”

“I don’t know okay?” You covered your face while laughing.

“On a serious note,” he gently started running his fingers through your hair, “I never pulled a move because you were with Rafe and you’re a Kook and I’m me.”

You immediately let go of his arms and sat on the bed facing him with a shocked look on your face.

“You’re you?” You crossed your arms making him roll his eyes at you.

“Y/N, I’m a Pogue, my life is nothing like yours. You have your whole future planned already while I don’t even know if I’ll have decent food for the next week.”

“JJ come on.” You sighed but he kept going.

“No Y/N, it’s the truth,” he stared at you seriously, “what in the world would ever make me think someone like you would want to be with someone like me? You know it’s different to be friends with a Pogue than to actually date them right?”

“JJ I-“

“And you have all this fancy goals and dreams you want to achieve and I just don’t see how I could ever help you with them since I’m always getting into fights and I don’t even have a functional family so I just sticked to having you as a friend and I kept sleeping around with random girls who meant nothing to me and trying my best to get inside my head the idea that you just wouldn’t want me because I’m not good enough and I can-“

“Shut up JJ, shut up!” You cut him off and threw yourself at him, tightly wrapping your arms around him, not wanting to let go.

He held you tighter and started to sob right there in your arms. You could feel him shaking,  which made you cup his face and wipe away the few tears coming down his cheeks.

“I don’t ever want to hear you talking about yourself like that,” tears were falling down your eyes as well, “JJ you’re more than enough.”

Your lips trembled and you softly pressed them against his, tasting the salty tears that were still falling down both your faces. You felt his arms wrap around your waist and pull your body closer to him as he let out a few more tears.

The two of you laid down on the bed without ever letting go of each other. You were used to being the little spoon when cuddling with JJ, but this time it was his turn to be the little one, and as he fell asleep in your arms you thought about him. About how hard he’s had his life, how every action he does is a call for attention and how he just wants to feel alright.

That night you held him a little closer, promising yourself you’ll give him all the love he’s missed out his entire life.

The next morning you woke up with a peacefully asleep JJ laying next to you. He looked so calm and peaceful you didn’t want to wake him up. You smiled to yourself as you remembered the events of last night, it all seemed so unreal.

You silently got out of bed to do your morning routine and as you were washing your face you thought about Rafe and the little deal you’d made with him yesterday. You knew no matter how carefully you planned to explain it to JJ he would still lose his shit.

You made your way downstairs and made some scrambled eggs for the two of you. As you were finishing your coffee your phone started ringing with a call from your parents, almost making you choke on your drink.

“Hey.” You answered.

“Y/N dear,” your father said, “how’s everything going?”

“Everything’s great, I’m just having breakfast.”

“Tell her I talked to the neighbor and she agreed on making her some meals.” You heard your mother tell your father.

“Tell mom I know how to cook.” You giggled.

“We’ll be back in two days honey.” Your father assured you.

“Two days?” Your voice came out a little too loud so you cleared your throat, “I thought you still had four more days left.”

“We closed the deal earlier,” he chuckled, “we have some news to tell you.”

“Is it about the business deal with the Camerons?”

“Oh I see Rafe told you already.”

“Sarah did.” You replied.

“Right. Your mom is eager to start planning everything with Rose and I’m assuming you’re also planning your own stuff with Rafe and Sarah.”

“Yeah, Sarah and I will go get our dresses soon,” you stopped talking as soon as you saw JJ enter the kitchen.

“Morning Y/N,” he said loudly, making your eyes widen, “aw you made me breakfast? Is this a 5 star hotel?”

You shushed him and pointed at your phone, letting him know you were on a phone call. It took him a few seconds of you trying to let out the words  “It’s my father” a couple of times until he understood and sat in silence.

“What was that?” Your father asked.

“Kie stayed over.” You said quickly.

“Oh alright, tell her she’s welcome at the party,” he went on, “her whole family is actually. Well honey, I have to hang up but before we end the call, your mother wants you to know that your dress has to match Rafe’s suit for the pictures and all that stuff I don’t really know much about.”

“What, why?” You groaned.

“Ask your mom honey. Alright I have to go now, see you soon.”

You let out a big sigh after hanging up with your father, catching JJ’s attention.

“So?” He said after taking the last bite of his scrambled eggs.

“They’re coming back in two days.”

JJ nodded and stared down at his plate, his mind immediately thinking about where to go once your parents come back. You grabbed his hand and squeezed it, giving him a small smile.

“Hey,” you said softly, “you don’t have to go back to your dad, we’ll manage a way.”

“It’s alright, I’ll see what I do.” Was all he said.

You ran a hand through your hair and calmed down your thoughts, you had a lot of thinking and planning to do but right now you wanted to make JJ feel alright.

“So I’m not that bad of a kisser huh?” You grinned at him, his cheeks getting red and his lips matching your smile.

“I’d give you an 8 out of 10.” He joked and you playfully pointed your middle finger at him.

“You’re an idiot.” You smiled.

“Hey that only means we have to practice some more to improve it.” He winked.

You rolled your eyes at him and leaned in to give him a small peck on the lips, but as you were pulling away he cupped your face and pulled you for a long, passionate kiss.

“I change my mind, I’ll give you an 11 out of 10.” He whispered against your lips before you pressed yours against them for another kiss.

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CHAPTER 10

A/N: don’t mind me I’m just so happy to finally be able to write fluff between JJ and the reader but you guys know me and my love for angst so you better appreciate this full fluff chapter bc honey you’ve got a big storm coming...

I also want to say that I REALLY WISH I COULD GET INSIDE THE OBX SHOW AND TELL JJ HOW GOOD ENOUGH HE IS AND MAKE  HIM FEEL LOVED AND APPRECIATED OK BYE.

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[mickmarstookmyheart]

More Espresso, Less Despresso

Part: 2/?

Pairing: Mick Mars X Reader

Summary: Mick tells you the truth about his job and you meet the band in their natural habitat.

Many days have passed, many cups of coffee were consumed, and fewer books were read as you have always had a company at the café. But you didn't mind. Mick was your best friend there, well, the only one, though you didn't even search for others.

"So, Mick, what are your plans for the next week?" You asked walking next to him in the park. Your scarf half covering your face which you were grateful for since you could feel the cold in your bones.

"Well..." This was the moment. This was the perfect timing to tell you that he was a musician. A guitarist who traveled from stadium to the other and never settled down for more than a few days. A rockstar whom chicks wanted but not in the way Mick would love to. "There is something I need to tell you, (Y/N)." He shoved his hands in his pockets.

"Then, I will listen." You said glancing at him.

"Come, let's sit down." He gestured toward the bench nearby and you both sat down on the rather chilly bench. "So, I don't know how to say it."

"Honestly. What you truly think. Just say it." You placed your hand on his shoulder.

"I'm happy. I'm happy that I finally find someone with who I can talk, share my thoughts, and have a decent conversation. I would go to the café and spend time together for eternity but unfortunately, it's impossible." He sighed. "I'm a rockstar, (Y/N), and the band goes on the next stop tomorrow. I'm so sorry."

You shook your head and chuckled. "So, this was the reason you were so nervous about it? Come on, Mick. I've always known that you are an artist. You talk about music like I talk about books; with so much passion." You turned to him to be able to look in his eyes.

"What? Are you telling me that you knew from the beginning?" He asked arching a brow making you giggle.

"Yes, Sherlock. For fucks sake, have you looked in the mirror? Long black hair, leather jacket and pants, the way your fingers drum to the beat, and an unbelievable wide knowledge of music." You were hoping deep down that he wasn't a big star. You hid your disappointment and tried to cheer him as he was feeling blue and you just couldn't bear it. Seeing him like this just broke your heart, thus you behaved as if everything was cool, but it wasn't.

"Alright, Watson. I'm impressed." He snickered. He couldn't believe you paid so much attention to him, he was sure he didn't deserve it. After all the wrong decisions he made, all the wrong things he did, it seemed a miracle to have a good friend like you. "Then, you are not mad, right?"

"Of course not, you silly. Though I would've appreciated it to tell me, I thought it was your business. You would've told me at the right time." You were playing with the end of your scarf. You felt your heart ached, tears desperately wanted to come but you didn't let them. You needed to keep your happiness for him because if he would see you like a wreck, he wouldn't be able to leave you there without feeling guilty.

"I wanted to, truly, but I was afraid...I was scared that you would run away." He glanced up and tried to scan every detail of your face so later when he needed he would be able to recall it.

"Why would I do that? Believe it or not, I also like rock music. And the fact that I read books doesn't mean that I'm pure as a unicorn or something. I read books during the day and I'm a serial killer at the night. This is a good glamour you know." You said with the most serious face could.

"What?" Mick's eyes widened. He looked he believed the whole thing. It looked like you could lie pretty well.

"Why is it so hard to believe?" You huffed crossing your arms to make your story more believable.

"I don't know, maybe that the shine in your eyes or your calm temper." You couldn't hold it back anymore and you burst into laughter. Tears running down your cheek but this time from happiness. He was the reason for both your sadness and happiness. "Why are you laughing now? Oh, you liar..." He snapped playfully but then laughed along with you. After you could properly breathe again and calmed down you rose from the bench and kept walking.

"And how long will the tour be?" You asked, already feeling a knot in your stomach. You didn't want to lose him, you just got him.

"Months. Too much if you ask me. I don't know how I will bear my bandmates' stupidity. I will lose my sense if I can't talk with you." He said making you blush.

"I'm sure there are others who are a bit smarter than your friends." You shrugged. You hated the idea that he finds someone special. Someone with the same mind, taste, and thinking. You wanted to be the only one, even if it felt selfish.

"No, I don't think so." He snickered shaking his head. "You are my soulmate, (Y/N) and no one can replace you." He bumped into you playfully. You gasped internally. He spoke like he was reading your mind and it was creepy. Maybe, he was truly your soulmate. "By the way, the guys keep nagging me where I am all day, and since now you know about them...would you like to meet them? Also, I will understand if you don't want to." He rubbed the back of his head thinking it wasn't really a good idea after all.

"Hell yes. It would be a pleasure." You smiled and tugged a lock of hair behind your ear.

∆

"You can still run away. There is still a chance to have a better life without meeting those bastards. You wouldn't miss a thing."

"Mick, calm down. I totally want this." You were standing in front of the studio's entrance.

"Then don't blame me later." He murmured and opened the door for you. You stepped in and as you turned in the corner you just had to follow the voices. If you had to name the voices you would've called it chaos. Screaming, glass breaking. You took a deep breath and opened the door to see the chaos. You froze and were shocked from the sight. One of them was bumping his head on the drums, the other was doing drugs and the third man was throwing knives on the wall. Mick stood behind you and grabbed your wrist. "Let's go, (Y/N). They are not in their best shape."

"But we walked so damn much. Too much for nothing." You sighed.

"Alright then. Go grab something to eat or drink and I will scold them down until you come back, okay?"

"Deal." You nodded and headed towards the bistro next to the studio while Mick felt the urge to beat the shit out of his bandmates. While reading the menu you were wondering how he is able to get through the tours while keeping his sanity. Then pictures flooded your mind. Memories you desperately wanted to forget but it seemed they became core memories. You had experiences with both drugs and alcohol and you felt their effect on your own skin, though you weren't the one who consumed them. You thought if you move from that place, maybe the memories will fade.

"Ma'am, what can I get you?" A waitress asked standing behind the counter.

"Five from that one." You pointed at the table above her head and bit after she handed you the bag with your order. When you got back the building where you left the band, you grabbed the door handle it didn't turn. "Are you fucking kidding me?" You cursed still trying to open the door before kicking in it angrily.

"Hey, what that poor door did to you?" A man inquired searching in his pockets.

"Sorry. It just doesn't open and I really would like to go in." You said tilting your head toward the entrance.

"Then, try with this one." He winked and handed you the key which you took gladly and opened the door with it. "Thanks, man!"

"It's nothing, kid. By the way, who are you exactly and why do you want to go in?" He asked while he held the door for you letting you go first. You thanked with a nod and made your way to the studio.

"I'm (Y/N). Umm, Mick brought me here..." You raised a brow.

"Wait. The (Y/N)?" His eyes were wide and he was pointing at you.

"Yeah, I guess." You murmured now having a clue.

"Well then nice to finally meet you. I thought we would never meet you." He gave you the biggest smile you ever saw.

"Mick told you about me?" You were in shock. You didn't assume he told about you. Not that you minded. It felt good that you were important to him.

"He couldn't shut his mouth for a second! By the way, I'm Doc. Their manager." He held his hand to shake it.

"It's a pleasure." You smiled and opened the door cautiously. You didn't know what to expect after what you had seen earlier, but it wasn't this. All of them were reading a magazine?! And were sitting with crossed legs on the sofa.

"What the..." Doc peeked over your shoulder as you didn't move an inch. His mouth dropped and was speechless, which you could say about yourself, too. "Are you okay, guys?"

"Yeah, Doc, thanks for asking." The blondie said not glancing up from the magazine he was reading.

"Mick...what exactly did you do them?" You inquired in confusion, considering, the room was hell a few minutes earlier.

"Nothing." He simply said closing the magazine, placing it on the coffee table, and walked over to you. He stood beside you and cleared his throat. "Guys, this is (Y/N). (Y/N) this is Vince, Tommy, and Nikki." They smiled and nodded when they heard their names. "And I see you have already met with Doc."

"Nice to meet you guys." You waved your hand. "Umm, I brought some food..for you if you are interested..." You muttered swinging the bag in front of you. Tommy literally jumped up from the couch and took the bag from your hand opening and smelling it.

"It smells rad, dude." He yelled picking one of the boxes.

"I already love you, (Y/N)." Vince rose from the couch stealing the bag from the drummer.

After everyone chose their boxes, you all find a place to sit and were consuming the food in silence. You were sitting on the arm of the sofa balancing yourself. You leaned to Mick whispering in his ear.

"Seriously, what did you do?" You asked gesturing toward the guys.

"I have my own ways." He smirked making you curious as hell.∆

Taglist: @leatherandheels @littlemisscare-all @safari-karrot @crazyrockrlady 💕💕

(feel free to message me or comment if you wanted to be tagged 💕)

[cerastes]

SO AMONG THE 72 Arts of the Shaolin Temple, there is one named Tie Shan, or Iron Shirt, which everyone here is familiar with. You know the typical body hardening techniques of hard Chinese martial arts you usually see in Wu Xia? Like when this small and thin dude gets smashed by a giant of a man wielding a tree or a steel pipe and, against all expectations, it doesn’t do jack shit against the dude and instead the log explodes into splinters or the pipe gets bent? That’s Iron Shirt.

The guiding principle of it is to use “qi” (efficient breathing techniques and thoroughly trained muscle tightening) to harden the shit out of your body, usually one body part where you focus the absolutely totality of your attention and kickasstitude. It’s like when the sci fi ship its getting its teeth kick right through its asshole and the captain says “REDIRECT ALL ENERGY INTO SHIELDS!”, it’s basically that, but you train to actually be able to do that in the one-person crew stellar spaceship that is your body, and instead of a proton beam, you are blocking the punch thrown by the blistering white supernova of ire that is the kid at GameStop after you buy the last copy of 50 Cent: Blood On The Sand.

BASICALLY, it’s not so much a whole school in and of itself as much as a discipline you Responsibly Consider in the mastery of the overall fucked and wide scheme of Shaolin martial arts. But, as one of the 72 Arts, it gets its own full backstory because the ancient Chinese people never once fucked around in their entire lives throughout the Dynasties. Don’t believe me? Consider that Jing Ke was just an alcohol-loving scholar who just so happened to love dabbling in swordsmanship, and he spawned the fucking cusp of all anarchist legends, and well deservedly, too, but my point is, the moment the Chinese saw a dope ass technique, that shit NEEDED a backstory, else it would just fall short of the hype their real life entailed.

For real, I really wanna sit down one day and talk about how fucking crazy Chinese myths are simply because their daily lives were worthy of 45 minute long OVAs that leave wanting more: To be ancient Chinese is to live generations upon generations in “Current Events”, in shit that now shows up on history books as “And This Fucking Madhouse Was Going On Over Yonder, In Case You Pondered”. How the fuck do you make mythos attractive and relevant to The People if it fails to outdo Current, Real Events in the “Bruce Willis Shooting a Gatling Gun” meter? You don’t, which is why for every fucking blade of grass that swayed by the wind in old China, there was a specific reason, a legend, and a moral of the story as to why that shit happened, otherwise literally nobody would’ve fucking cared about the grass, the wind, or the swaying.

But today is not that day, today is the day I tell you about IRON SHIRT.

So anyway, the lore behind redirecting all of your energy into your balls so you could tank a kick to the huevos and possibly redirect damage to your opponent by breaking their foot with your mighty pain baby sacks finds its humble origins with our main man, Zhou Tong (who must not be confused with Zhou Tong, archery teacher of general Yue Fei of the Song Dynasty, two different people) in the very self-descriptive story known as... I’m not gonna tell you the title just yet because it kinda fucking spoils the story, which is something the old Chinese were fucking bad about, aight, but trust me, anyway, Zhou Tong! Zhou Tong was just taking a stroll down the road, going places as he usually did, when over yonder, he spotted, without any exaggeration or glamour, an absolute chunkster of a lad, an absolute unit, Agent Fat Fucck’s respected ancestor, a BIG BOY. This dude was MASSIVE and WELL BUILT. So Zhou Tong looks at this mother fucker real good, hits him with that Scan Lv.3, and comes to the very fair and safe conclusion that this man looked forward to humiliating him, if “very fair and safe” also encapsulated “paranoid fucking old man”. See, to be fair to Zhou Tong, he WAS a renowned master of martial arts, and if there’s anything you should know about martial arts, it’s that a great number of martial artists are always looking for that big break, that “get my name out there for those in the know”, and the shortest route to that is to beat up a renowned master. It’s why Bruce Lee always had challengers! It’s why this one time, this one dude threatened Bruce Lee’ family in order to get Bruce to fight him, which is about the single worst possible fucking idea you can get. Drinking molten glass with a dab of lemon is a better idea than picking a malicious fight with Bruce Lee, and yet, here we fucking are! And in case you’re curious, Bruce Lee demolished that dude, but anyways, the thing is, Zhou Tong was, like, 17% justified in thinking this way.

So what he did was what any other person would: He started redirecting all of his energy into his right shoulder. See, the way they were walking, they were going to walk by each other while crossing a bridge, so Zhou Tong was like “this mother fucker wishes to humiliate me by chucking me into the bridge in front of the hoes!”, so Tong, as a master of Iron Shirt, focuses like 1700 Magic Points into his right shoulder, which turns red, and then purple as it becomes harder than rock, harder than iron, harder than spending 5 minutes away from the boys, under his clothes. So, the fated moment comes, they brush shoulders, and the Big Boy gets fucking Destructo-Blasted. Big Boy was almost knocked out of the bridge just from brushing his shoulder. It was so painful that he was pouring saliva and the entire right side of his body was left numb until the next day. Zhou Tong fucking DUNKED on Big Boy and avoided being publicly humiliated in front of girls, the greatest accolade you could possibly append to any student of arts most martial.

Except.

It was a misunderstanding.

That Big Boy was none other than Wu Song, his future student. Wu Song didn’t even notice Tong, he was looking at his own feet and minding his footsteps because he didn’t wanna get his feet wet after last night’s rain.

So, I IMPLORE YOU, the reader, to hold my hand (platonically) and accompany me through a reconstruction of the events through Wu Song’s perspective:

There was a freak rain last night in a place known for how dry it is. You only have shit ass sandals, and there’s a trillion puddles of water between you and your destination. You, as a certified Immense Chunk Man, have large trotters and don’t wanna step in a puddle because then you get the common cold and then you fucking die because this is somewhere around the year 1121 CE and medicine amounted to “these pleasant aromas and needles either heal you or you fucking die”. You take extra care to not get the common cold by minding your steps, and suddenly, out of absolutely fucking nowhere, you get Destructo-Blasted while crossing a bridge, you get utterly ragdolled, you get Broly Punched through three fucking buildings and almost hole-in-one into the river, you are drooling, you can’t feel the right side of your body, and when you look up to brace yourself against your assailant, you see this older man just sort of chilling with a joyful stride, walking as if he didn’t just deliver your fucking groceries with that 200% Damage In Hyrule Castle Lower Half Of The Map Forward Smash. What the fuck?

And then some years pass, you get involved into some Pretty Important Shit, and you’re going to learn martial arts from a certified badass, and then he walks out of the bead curtain holding a lemonade, and guess who the fuck it is, it’s Mister Destructo-Blast himself. How fucking awkward was that encounter? No, really, what were their first words towards each other? “Oh, I remember you! You were the old dude that nearly ripped my arm off for no reason that one day it rained!” That’s a great ice breaker.

So, anyways, they go, train, become even stronger, and then do immensely hype shit in the classic story, Water Margin. Zhou Tong became the 51st of the 72 Earthly Fiends and Wu Song became the 14th of the 36 Heavenly Spirits in the 108 Stars Of Destiny. You should read Water Margin, it’s fucking nuts.

But anyways, that’s the lore behind the esteemed martial art of redirecting all energy to shields, Iron Shirt is pretty cool. The moral of the story is to not just fucking randomly ragdoll people because you’re a mite suspicious, but also? If you can actually randomly ragdoll people like that? You’re probably dope as hell and can get away with it, so practice Iron Shirt for political immunity, that’s all, the end.

[warriorlid14]

Ani Reread Book 1: Part 1

I really, really hope I’ll finish these. Spoilers for book 1 and I will try to keep it at just spoilers for book 1.

��My name is Jake”- ah, yes. an epic beginning to an epic book series.

I love how they’re all like “I’ll never tell you where I live, for safety reasons. Maybe it’s your town!” Like, no, hon. I may not now the exact location but I get plenty of context clues. Ahem: definitely a town, but near a big city. Near a beach. Near a mountain range. Near a national forest. Conclusion: definitely not my town.

Jake’s being a cutie already and I’m barely on page two. He’s all like: “No, I don’t care that I didn’t make into the team. I mean, I’m just not as good as my big brother and we won’t hang out much anymore, but it doesn’t bug me. It’s not a big deal!!” I love him.

“So, like maybe I’ll walk home with you guys.” Omg, he practiced that didn’t he? It gives me so many “I’m trying to be cool but please, please let me hang out with you guys” vibes. I love Tobias.

“I guess you could say I kind of like Cassie.” Precious. Children.

*detailed explanation of why it’s a horrible, terrible idea to cut through the abandoned construction site* “So anyway, we crossed the road and headed into the abandoned construction site.”  Iconic, but guuuuuuuys.

Tobias is giving me mad Luna vibes. I mean, throughout the entire book series, but mainly in the first few books.

Omg, there’s a spaceship landing in front of them and they’re arguing about Star Trek. This is not the last time this happens. ALSO, reason 64474558 why this series wouldn’t work in modern day: they’d all be streaming this and get captured within the hour.

It’s been 11 years since I first started reading this series and the entire Elfangor scene is still powerful. Also the way these kids all rush to help this dying alien even as their entire worlds are being rocked is so heartwarming.

“Never remain in animal form for more than two of your Earth hours. Never!” Foreshadowing. Foreshadowing. Foreshadowing.

“No, we’ll stay with you.” RACHEL. MY LOVE.

God, this scene is horrifying, especially with all the descriptions of the hork-bajir and taxxons.

I’d forgotten how much of a cartoon-like villain Visser Three can be. Until, ya know, he murders Elfangor. 

Rachel comforting her friends while being terrified herself fills me with joy,

Only 42 pages into the first book, not even a third of the way through, and these kids have already been traumatized for life.

“So I figured if the aliens were going to chase anyone, it ought to be us.” Anyone who sorts Jake and Rachel into anything other Gryffindor is lying to themselves.

I’ll never get over the fact that Tobias named his cat “Dude”. What a dork. Also, Jake knowing something wrong because Tobias is happy and energetic. In this economy?

So obviously Jake ends up being the best choice for a leader, but it’s interesting how he became the leader. One, Tobias appointed him, and obviously Tobias would. He’s Jake, the guy who saved him from bullies one time and has been nothing but decent to him since. He holds him on a pedestal, something which makes for an interesting dynamic when Jake makes mistakes later on. And for the rest of the team, Jake is also the obvious choice. Because Jake has a personal relationship with all of them. He’s Rachel’s cousin, Marco’s best friend, Cassie’s crush. At least for the first few books, I’m not sure the team would’ve stayed such a solidified unit if Jake weren’t the connecting factor between all of them.

Wow, they make it really clear that Tom’s a controller straight off the bat, huh?

OKAY. I will finish there. I wrote much more than intended and I’m only a third of the way through. The rest shouldn’t be as long until I get to the Yeerk Pool scene.

[trouvelle]

Emogust 26.08 — Roommates

A/N: Halfway through writing this... I realized I had no plot. This is simply a plunnie heavily inspired by (if not based on) Friends! Forgive me ;A;  School just started again, I had to tearfully bid my goodbye to summer break, and that resulted in this really late entry. @mintchocolateleaves @sup-poki ily’all !!

In the years Kaito has been legally allowed to drink, he’s made some pretty important discoveries about himself.

The first is that he really, really appreciates their guys’ night in. They do shots when they first start hanging out, sit in the corner of Saguru’s apartment (because he doesn’t have any roommates nor a girlfriend who would kick him in the ass for drenching the apartment with the smell of alcohol). He likes having his back against the cold concrete wall, the liquid cooling his throat as he feels the familiar buzz swelling in his stomach. But no matter how pleasant, it’s not really worth the shivering, anxious mess it makes him the next morning, when he’s trying to fight off the raging nausea.

He steers clear of tequila for a while after that.

So it probably should have been easier to foresee, the other discovery. Kaito and Heiji both bond really well. And they both can be really persuasive especially on the nights when Shinichi and Saguru want to be completely sober. Their excuse has always been the same—that they have jobs they want to keep. Come on, all of them have to go to work too in the morning, goddammit. Those two just don’t want to admit that they’re fucking lightweights. 

Kaito just doesn’t want to be alone in his misery. Heiji knows this, knows that Kaito is a social drinker, likes it only when he’s got someone else worse off than he is. The Osakan himself is never one to back down from any challenges. And Kaito is an impressionable drunk, will do just about anything so long as someone thinks to ask. They’re an awesome pair.

The last discovery he makes isn’t so much a discovery as it is a revelation and an inquiry. And it isn’t so much made as it is stumbled upon in the dark with bare feet and a whole lot of disorientation. It happens one of the nights when all four of them were hanging out and drinking in the huge apartment that Kaito, Shinichi and Heiji share.

And Kaito finds out that he’s really bad at keeping things to himself like this, when it’s just the four of them, a little buzzed and a lot open. He feels like he could tell them anything, because they know him now, they’ve stuck together and survived four years of college. That’s saying a lot.

So he feels safe, and he doesn’t even turn to one of them when he says, “I haven’t said “I love you” to Aoko. Do you think I should say it now?”

He doesn’t even notice the room had been so loud until it goes silent. It feels like a blanket, thick and heavy and stifling, and he turns his head to find Heiji staring down at him incredulously from the couch. He’s sitting with one leg thrown over the side. It’s close enough that Kaito could reach out and grab his ankle down, if he wanted, if he didn’t feel like that might not be such a good idea right now. “She’s not here though,” The dark-skinned guy points out.

Kaito regards his roommate in annoyance, “Thanks for stating the obvious.”

Even Shinichi pipes up, “You mean, this whole time you two have been dating, you’ve never once said it to her?"

He winces. “Is it that bad?” he asks, because why the hell not? They’ve all shared secrets bigger than this, right? This isn’t even that big a deal, in the grand scheme of things, whatever that might be. “Although I probably shouldn’t ask you. I know you and Ran say it all the time.” 

See, it’s unfair because their situations are completely different. Shinichi and Ran has been together since forever. The pair are a match made in heaven. Shinichi has a steady job as a professor in Tokyo University (The hottie of the Criminology Department, as Shinichi himself puts it.), and Ran is the star teacher in Teitan. Their relationship is solid. Their parents are also really good friends, and they’re bound to get married one day, if not soon. Shinichi is the type to, say, seize every opportunity he can get. That includes telling his girlfriend that he loves her every chance he can. But it’s also because he’s a big, sappy softie underneath his ever-silent and calculating exterior. 

The sole reason Kaito has been hesitating to say it to Aoko is because he isn’t sure that he can make her happy like Shinichi does with Ran. He knows full well that Aoko loves him the same way, that she might even love him more than he does. Part of him has always been certain that she’s the one who he will grow old with, because he doesn’t want anyone but her. But what if she can finds someone else, someone better, who can offer her an even happier future for her? He’s an entertainer, for God’s sake, he doesn’t have an elite job in an elite university like his cousin does.

“Are you gonna do it right now?” Saguru asks, chuckling a little under his breath. 

Kaito isn’t sure if he’s drunk enough to be that impulsive, just that he feels loose and comfortable. He doesn’t see what the big deal is. Except, it kind of is a big deal. Has been kind of a big deal for a while now, so much so that he’s been wanting to say it for years. Just to say it, because it’s felt like a weight on his chest for too long.

Also because he sees it in Aoko’s eyes, the flash of jealousy in her eyes whenever Shinichi and Ran calls out the three magical words to each other in the smallest of occasion here and there throughout the day. The hint of amusement accompanied by something none other than a dash of envy whenever Heiji and Kazuha calls each other by their infamous pet name “Ahou” like it’s their own version of “I love you”. 

“Hang on there. I’m not like Kudo here who needs to say it every five seconds.” He can feel the corners of his mouth sneaking upwards. You know what, maybe he should do it right now. Aoko and the girls’ apartment is literally across the hallway. 

If he does it right, it could be a good thing. And this too, is a good thing, this blossoming friendship. Because they are about to have a lot more milestones to achieve.

“Or, you know, you don’t have to verbally say it. Show that you love her through your actions,” Saguru points out, his slim fingers moving in a motion for Kaito to pass him another bottle of beer. Kaito does so with a scowl. “Yeah, like I haven’t been doing that all these times.”

Shinichi decides to give his cousin a little push. “You know, the first time I said it to Ran and she said it back, it easily became one of the most special nights I’ve ever spent with her. But then again, there were also fireworks because we so happened to be in Niagara Falls.”

Heiji face morphs into a scowl. “Yeah, yeah, like you haven’t hogged all the beautiful backdrops already.” But as quickly as his scowl comes, it leaves, his expression changes into a content one. “I remember mine too. It was an amazing night, followed by something even more amazing. Saying those three words can be a way to begin it. ‘Cuz that was also the first time Kazuha and I—”

“Dude,” Kaito narrows his eyes dangerously at him. He’d rather not hear the details, thank you very much.

Knowing that his sister has done it—and quite often too—has made him quite angry at first. Kazuha’s his little sister, and that gives him every right to keep tabs on her and control over what she should and shouldn’t be doing. But the girl is stubborn in every way. Like how he doesn’t approve of her choice of being a model, but she still chooses that path anyway. He’s proud of her all right, because she’s doing so well. She’s appeared in quite a lot of commercials and magazine covers, getting photoshoot offers here and there.

Not that he’s not proud of Aoko too. She’s rapidly climbing her way up the nurses rank in Todai Hospital, and it’s one of the best hospitals in the whole world. “At least none of us has to worry about alcohol poisoning,” Heiji once remarked, “We’ve got an actual living first-aid box with us.”

Kaito’s main concern only lies in the fact that there are many male nurses too in addition to the number of good-looking male doctors who might potentially steal Aoko’s heart away, who would’ve thought?

Speaking of the male population... he turns his attention back to the three familiar faces in the room. Shinichi is now the one leading the conversation, stern and oh-so-like the leader of their little gang. It’s just natural in their dynamic, he thinks.

Shinichi is their all prismatic and crystal-clear fluid, and Saguru is the solid rock, where Heiji is the unpredictable fire roaring all around them, where Kaito is the all-rushing wind above them.

Ten years ago, if someone had told him he would spend most of his time with a Criminology professor, an IT procurements manager with the specialization Statistical Analysis and Data Reconfiguration (it’s amazing how he remembers the exact name of Heiji’s job, seriously, all of them simply refers to him as a transponster)—both of whom highlight as criminal investigators together on the side—and a stuck-up lawyer from a fancy law school in England (Kudo and Hattori both have really boring jobs when they’re not out solving cases, but what Hakuba does is the literal definition of boring), he wouldn’t have believed it for himself.

But oh, look who he ends up hanging out with almost every single day now.

“Just say it, man. She’s been waiting for it.” someone says. It takes Kaito a second to realize he’s watched Saguru’s lips form the syllables, that the words were said in Saguru’s smooth voice. 

Saguru smirks, the corner of his mouth curling up. Kaito’s not very sure through the haze of drunkenness, but he thinks he sees mischief and amusement very evident in the blonde’s face. He turns his head to regard Saguru with hard eyes and waits.

“She makes you happy and you make her happy, that’s all,” is what Saguru says next, and almost in sympathy.

Kaito is pretty sure that’s exactly what Shinichi and Heiji have been telling him to do just a moment ago. But it seems what Saguru says is the one that hits the nail, because Kaito’s face goes from nothing—no emotion, no expression—to fierce determination. 

And then Kaito stands, grabs a cup of water, downs it in a go and walk out the door, leaving the three in utter dumbfoundedness.

[bloomsoftly]

EEE! || Pairing: Darcy/Peter Quill || Prompt is: "Lucky Underwear" || (And thank you so much, doll!

okay, Dres, I am finally done with this thing—sorry for the wait! also, thanks to @amidtheflowers for name inspiration. :) 

without further ado:

lucky underwear, darcy/peter quill

NSFW under the cut, lovelies

Now on AO3. It would mean a lot if you could leave a review.

send me a prompt!

Thenext time they sent a mouse through the wormhole, it came back. In fact, itcame back wearing a hand-knit sweater—an ugly monstrosity with swirling greensand blues and oranges that looked like it came straight out of the 80’s—and anote taped to its back.

Darcyand Jane looked at it each other in consternation. Shrugging, Darcy snagged thenote and unfolded it. It was torn at the corner, as if ripped in a struggle,and was covered in three different lines of text.

Thefirst—scrawled prominently across the page—was a frustrated line of chickenscratch.

For God’s sake, PLEASE DO NOT SEND ANY MORE MICE.There is no room on the ship for any more vermin. We literally already have aTALKING RACCOON.

“Well,”Darcy mused, “at least the aliens are pretty polite, all things considered. Imean, we have been dumping mice in their laps for the past week. Also, they canwrite in English?”

Janenodded distractedly, already re-calculating her equations. “Apparently we’vebeen sending the mice to the same place. A ship? Which means the wormhole haslocked onto an object and moves with it through space. And the writing could bea written form of All-Speak? Hmm, interesting…”

Shewandered away, leaving Darcy to read the rest of the note by herself. The lasttwo lines appeared to have been written by different hands, scribbled in ahurry.

SEND MORE RODENTS. THEY ARE ENJOYABLE TO PLAY WITH.

Well,okay then. Darcy was glad somebody enjoyed the mice, at least.

do u have music that doesn’t suck? the idiot insistson putting the same songs on repeat. over and over and over and over. and over.

over and over waswritten repeatedly across the rest of the page, right up to the torn edge.Darcy rolled her eyes and sighed. How someone could manage to troll her fromthousands of light-years away, she had no idea.

Figuringthat she and Jane were practically experts by now in getting to know alienspecies, Darcy decided to consider herself a diplomatic representative ofEarth. So, the next time they were ready to send something through the wormhole(Jane was determined to discover why it always connected to the mysteriousbeing’s ship, despite variations in date and time), Darcy sent her iPod.

Nother new iPhone, mind you. But the old iPod, the one SHIELD had stolen and thenreturned years later. It was old and battered and missing half herplaylists—and she was sad to see it go. Still, diplomatic relations sometimesrequired personal sacrifice.

Thenext time the wormhole opened, a crown of beautiful flowers plopped through,held up by what looked like a prosthetic hand. Darcy stared at it for a longminute, perplexed, then shrugged. It might be the strangest ‘thank you’ she’dever gotten, but at least the flowers smelled good. The hand, officially dubbed‘Flower Power,’ became the official mascot of the lab and oversaw all of theirexperiments.

Thefollowing week, Darcy sent a bulk-sized package of strawberry poptarts throughthe portal. Jane laughed at her, but Darcy defended her decision passionately.“What? We have a good track record with aliens and these things!”

Thepoptarts were a hit, as expected. Along with a demand for more came a littlecrystal frog.

Andso the weeks passed, marked by increasingly-strange gift exchanges. Eventually,Jane put her foot down and declared, “Alright, that’s it. We’re running out ofplaces to put all this weird space stuff. Time to take the next step.”

Darcylooked up from where she was munching on her space snack. It was weird—tasted alittle bit like pickles, but not. Glancing up, she asked, “What’s the nextstep?”

“We’regoing to send you through the wormhole, obviously. So you can meet your newfriends in person.”

Afterone last loud crunch, Darcy swallowed and replied nonchalantly, “Alright, bosslady. Just don’t send me somewhere weird on accident, alright?”

-:-

Thegood news was that Jane didn’t dump Darcy into the vast emptiness of space tosuffocate and die. The bad news was that she got dropped into a ship duringwhat appeared to be the middle of some kind of space battle. As she wandereddown the narrow corridor, there was a lot of yelling. Explosions rocked theship, and Darcy stumbled to one side. She reached a hand out to steady herselfagainst the wall,only to be bowled over by someone barreling down the hallway.

Theyfell in a tangle of limbs and leather, hitting the unyielding floor with aresounding smack. Darcy looked up, straight into—the barrel of a space gun?Well, she assumed it was a gun. It looked gun-like, something between a StarWars blaster and a Star Trek phaser. A nerd’s wet dream, basically. She lookedpast the blaster to the face of the guy straddling her, and—oh. That wasanother wet dream entirely.

Still,he was pointing a weapon at her face. Her hands came up in the universal signfor surrender. Her knuckles pressed against the hard floor painfully and Darcytried not to wince. Carefully, she said, “Woah, dude. I’m sorry to drop in atsuch a bad time. But, uhh, I think we’re kind of friends? I mean, pen pals atleast. I send you things through that nifty little wormhole that shows up everynow and then.” With a strained grin, she clarified, “I—I don’t know how manypen pals you’ve got from Earth, but I’m the one who sends poptarts and iPods?So, yeah.”

Theunknown guy chuckled and put his gun away. Still straddling her, he gave her anappreciative once-over and teased, “Well if I knew you looked like this Iwould’ve suggested a meet-up a lot sooner,—” He stopped and quirked an eyebrowat her, waiting expectantly.

“Darcy.Science minion and newly-minted space traveler, at your service.” He leered atthat, but before he could offer a cheesy pick-up line—Darcy’s been on thereceiving end of a lot of those, she could see it coming—another explosionrocked the ship. She gestured to where he was still pinning her to the floorand asked, “Uhh, shouldn’t you be doing something about that instead offlirting with me, space boy?”

Hewinked and clambered to his feet. Reaching down to help her up, he corrected,“It’s Star-Lord, and don’t you worry, sweetheart. I’ve got it all undercontrol.”

Darcysnorted. “Yeah, no, I’m not calling you that. You got a normal-person name, Star-Lord?”

Hehuffed in mock-exasperation, grumbling, “No one takes me seriously aroundhere.” Dropping his chin and looking up at her through his lashes, he brushed athumb across her cheek and offered, “I can make an exception for you, though.You can call me Peter.”

Darcywould like to say that it was a surprise that she ended up in bed with him, butthat would be a bald-faced lie. There was something about the sass and thesmirk that did it for her. The red leather jacket didn’t hurt, either.

Darcywoke up to Peter’s fingertips moving in sleepy, abstract patterns across herbare back. She shivered at the sensation, prompting him to stop and brush herhair out of her face. Half-squinting up at him, eyes still gummy with sleep,Darcy caught the gentle smile that swept across his face.

“Thatwas—fun?” he asked, almost hesitant.

Araspy chuckle escaped her. “Was that a question, or a statement?”

Petergrinned at her wickedly and slid his hand down her waist and around to grip herass. He nosed her hair aside and nipped at her neck, sucking lightly. Darcyarched into him, closing her eyes. She never would have guessed that a tripthrough a wormhole would result in amazing sex, but here they were. He rolledthem so that Darcy was on her back and teased, “It was a statement. But ifthere’s any doubt, I’m happy to prove it again.”

Insteadof a verbal reply, Darcy reached up to grab his face and bring him down for ahot, wet kiss. Their tongues slid lazily against each other for long minutes,sweet and slow. Eventually they broke away, and Darcy panted heavily againstPeter’s neck. Her lips brushed along his stubble in a torturous burn, and shepressed an open-mouthed kiss against his throat. The tickle of his beardagainst her skin brought back memories of the previous night, when he had beenkissing her somewhere entirely different. Darcy squirmed beneath him, grindingup against the leg he had trapped between her thighs.

Witha nibble to his throat, Darcy groaned, “There’s no doubt, trust me. But if youwant to remind me anyway, I won’t complain.”

Grinningwickedly, Peter worked his way down her body, nibbling and suckling as he went.Impatiently, Darcy pushed on his head. Her body was on fire, and the tease knewexactly what she wanted. Huffing a laugh, he allowed her to guide him down,down—and then his mouth was on her, licking up and in. She lost herself in themovement of his lips and tongue and then his clever fingers. She writhedmindlessly against him, eyes closed and hands fisted in the sheets at hersides. 

Thealarm of her watch beeped loudly and insistently, and Darcy groaned. Barelylifting his face from her clit, Peter implored, “Just ignore it. Jane can waita little longer.”

Shefollowed his advice for long minutes, losing herself in the wet slide of histongue against her. His fingers pumped in an out leisurely, sending her into asimmering spiral. The watch went off again—she had fifteen minutes until theportal opened to take her home. “Peter,” she moaned, desperate. She was soclose.

Therewas no reply; instead, Peter doubled his efforts to make her come in the shorttime they had left. Crooking his fingers inside of her, Peter hit that spotthat made her hips arch off the bed. Desperate for release, she gasped out hisname. He suckled and swirled his tongue around her clit in response, over andover until she came with a cry, thighs trembling on either side of his head.

Sheslumped against the bed with a satisfied sigh, boneless in her afterglow. Hekept his mouth on her for a minute longer, until she huffed a laugh and pulledhim up toward her. They collapsed in a sweaty cuddle for a few preciousminutes, breathing heavily against each other. Once she caught her breath,Darcy apologized, “I’m sorry that we don’t have time for me to return thefavor.”

Helaughed, silencing her with a salty kiss. She licked his mouth teasingly,enjoying the taste of her on his lips. “Next time?” he asked tentatively.

“Nexttime,” she promised. After an adventure like this (and equally importantly,with a mouth like Peter’s), there was no way she’d miss out on coming back.With a groan, she gave him one last quick kiss and levered herself out of bed.She rushed through getting dressed, only to realize—

“Wherethe hell is my underwear?”

Peterlooked at her in confusion. “What?”

“Myunderwear? It was right here, with the rest of my clothing.”

Hegroaned, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. “ROCKET!” he shouted.It took a second for Darcy to catch on, and then she was yelling too.

“Damnit, Rocket. Those are my lucky underwear! 

Rocket’scackle echoed throughout the entire ship. “I need them! They’re—reallyimportant for a plan.”

Petergroaned. “ROCKET—”

“No,seriously, they’re—uhh—important to me!”

Darcy’s alarm beeped again—she was out of time. Huffing, shepulled on her pants sans underwear. Glowering at Peter, she stomped into thehallway and growled, “I will be back for my lucky underwear. You better makesure he doesn’t do anything weird with it in the meantime.” Peter just nodded, laughing too hard to say anythingin response.

Theportal opened, casting an eerie blue glow over the interior of the ship. Darcyturned back to him and asked, “Same time next week?”

Peterleaned down for one last kiss.

“It’sa date.”

[robbyrobinson]

A Broken Heart

Today was a great day for the Loud kids. What started as a misunderstanding quickly became much more. Yesterday, Lincoln had uncovered a love letter signed to a certain "L. Loud." As all of the siblings' names begin with the letter L, this only further complicated matters. As the day went on as they tried to get their crushes to notice them, another letter arrived in the mail, this time singling out the sisters who had brown hair. To make matters even more convoluted, it seemed as though the letters were directed towards Luna herself. Despite initially being nervous, her siblings convince her to go to the restaurant that night. While the letter turned out to have been for their father, this inspires the Loud kids to act on their feelings. With Luna as the last of the siblings to give out her love letter, she quickly sprinted behind some of the lockers. As if on cue, the rock star boy and his two friends walked past the lockers. After the blond girl bids her two friends farewell, she goes to open her locker. The love letter gently floats to the ground, thus confirming that this girl was Sam.

Luna walks home after school, casually humming a tune. Luna was pretty happy with herself; even though she was worried about what Sam's reaction would've been to the letter, she seemed to reciprocate what was written on it. As she walked down the street, Luna let her mind roam free. Thoughts of her beloved fluttered through her mind like butterfly wings. Luna lightly placed her hand on her heart, sighing whilst doing so. Every time she thought about Sam, her heart beats fast like a bass drum. Luna never felt so strongly for someone in her life. Not even her former attraction towards Hugh –Lincoln's tutor – could set her heart ablaze with such raw passion. Suddenly all of those sappy songs about love she had heard over the years made more sense to her. Luna was so delighted at what she had done; she was convinced that nothing could rob her of her good mood.

Luna arrives to the front yard of her humble abode. As she made her way to the door, she could hear her siblings buzzing about in regard to their crushes. A soft smile spreads across her face. She was really hopeful that their pursuits for love were fruitful. Luna places her right hand on the door, and she turns it clockwise. Her siblings stopped talking when they heard the small clicking of the door.

"Guys, Luna's home!" screamed Lincoln.

Luna shuts the door behind her when she was immediately bombarded by a family hug from her siblings. Even though she was slightly cramped in between, Luna laughs alongside her siblings. It took no time for her siblings to ask her a series of questions.

"So how did it go?" asked Lori.

"Are ya gonna bring her home?" inquired Leni.

"We always knew that you were pining for her" chuckles Luan "get it?"

What Luan said was true. Ever since she started to hang out with Sam, Luna would hardly last a couple of hours if she did not bring up Sam. However, when she first began to talk about her, her siblings were under the assumption that she was referring to a boy. Since she was hanging out with a young boy and his two friends, it seemed a given that she was heads over heels for that boy. When the reveal came that Luna was a bisexual, it created a slight disarray with them; it wasn't that they didn't notice some of the signs, but it's the fact that Luna deliberately kept her gender a secret that made their jaws drop in unison when Luna once pointed her out in the mall. Eventually, they slowly became supportive of their sister, and they gave her the encouragement she needed. After all, she was their sister, and they wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

"So, how did she respond to the letter?" said Lynn.

Luna beams a smile at Lynn. "I'm certain she digs me, dudes!"

The sisters all emitted a large squee that practically shook all of the windows in the house. Lincoln and Luna both systematically place their hands over their ears. While she was glad that they supported her, Luna clearly didn't want a repeat of what happened the last time they screamed this loudly. Their parents still had to pay for the damages that were done to the neighborhood.

"So when are you going to pour your heart out to her?" asked Lola.

"Hopefully soon, little sis," said Luna.

"Are you going to start dating her?" asked Lori. "I could arrange for a double date with you two, and Bobby and me."

Luna chuckled at this. "I don't want to rush things too soon."

"But what if she never knows that you sent her the letter?" asked Lincoln inquisitively.

Luna scratches her head. That's true; she didn't leave her initials on the letter when she wrote it, so how would Sam know that she had written it? Worse yet, what if she assumes that it was written by someone else. That would crush Luna if that were the likely scenario.

"You're right, Lincoln. What should I do?"

The sisters talked amongst themselves as to what could be done about this predicament. The further they argued with each other, the more outlandish their suggestions became.

"Maybe Luna could put some more letters in her locker" concluded Leni.

"No, that'd be overkill," groaned Lori.

"We should resort to the dark arts to ensure that Sam and Luna will be the only ones with eyes for each other" sighs Lucy.

"Doesn't that kind of rob her of her personal space?" asked Lynn.

"Besides, Mom and Dad both told you that you couldn't do any witchcraft anymore" added Lana.

"Sigh. Defeated again," bemoans Lucy.

Lisa stood up to speak next. "I propose that we make a spray that will make Luna be the only center of Sam's affections."

"That's worse than Lucy's idea!" yelled Lola. Lisa was obviously not amused.

"Oh, so you want to go princess?" Lisa said, clasping her fists.

"Oh, it is on nerd!" shouts Lola.

The two began to brawl. Lori rolls he eyes, and picks both of her younger sisters by the back of their shirts.

"Guys, let's be civil here."

"Yeah; we should go with my idea."

Lori laughs. "No, Leni, you're idea is literally terrible."

"Oh yeah," Leni fumed.

"Yes, of course, Leni, that idea was pretty dumb" added Lynn.

Leni's eyes were like daggers as she looked furiously at her younger sister. "Well, at least I didn't suggest that they both go to a ballgame."

Lynn's eyes grow to the size of kitchen plates. "What did you say?!"

Without much prompt, the sisters fought each other. Hair and loose teeth were flying as the dust quickly gathers to obscure the brutality. Luna and Lincoln both sighed in disbelief. Lincoln and Luna were about to pull their siblings off each other, when an idea struck Lincoln.

"So, Luna, you've been hanging out with Sam for long times haven't you?"

Luna nods her head. "Yup. Enough time to become wrapped up in her."

"What are some of your shared interests?"

Luna subconsciously drills her mind for an answer. "Well, we basically play together, for one."

Lincoln grinned. "So, you and Sam hang out with that rocker boy, correct?"

"Where are you going with this, Lincoln?"

"Well, if you two hang out with that boy a lot, why not tell Sam in secret when you're finished practicing?"

Luna's eyes widen in realization upon coming to this simple answer. "That's actually a pretty good idea. Thanks Lincoln."

She hugs Lincoln, and he returns it. Upon breaking up the hug, Lincoln whistles at his sisters, alerting them to this development. "Great news, we figured out what to do!" informed Lincoln. The sisters each weakly gave them a thumbs up.

"If there's any spare teeth lying around, they're mine," says Lola before losing consciousness.

Next morning was a Saturday morning. Luna sluggishly awakens from her deep slumber to hear buzzing. Luna yawns loudly, stretching her arms and back. She looks to side of her bed, and she sees that her phone was blaring. Luna rubs the sleepiness from her eyes, and looks closely at the number projected on her screen. "Oh, it's just Sam calling me." Luna lets her phone buzz until it ceased before returning to bed. A few short minutes go by when Luna suddenly jolts out of her bed. "Oh my god, it's Sam! I'm late!"

Luna quickly runs to the bathroom, and jumps into the bathtub. She turns the water on fully expecting hot water to erupt from the shower drain. Unfortunately for her, it was ice cold water. The water slowly slithered down Luna's back, chilling her spine simultaneously. It felt as though icicles were being stabbed deeply into her body.

"Cold, cold, cold!" shouts Luna. She turns the water of, and races to her room to get her duds. The family was sitting at the table, hearing all of the commotion happening upstairs. "Boy, Luna is totes freaking out about this," says Leni observantly.

Lori nods her head in agreement. "She's in love, dear sister. I know that feeling."

"Right, when you first met Bobby, you were so nervous, that you had forgotten to get out of your pajamas!" declares Luan. All of the siblings make a joke out of this whilst Lori's cheeks blush red.

Without a moment's hesitation, Luna runs to the kitchen wearing mix-matched clothes. Everyone looked at her strangely. Luna could feel the awkwardness of the situation. "I'm sorry, guys."

"No, that's fine. Don't beat yourself up." Lincoln says reassuringly.

"I just really like her, Lincoln. I want to make a good impression." Luna tilts her head down ashamed.

"Come on, Luna," says Lori "let's get you ready. Trust me, if she likes you back, she wouldn't want you to worry about this silly thing.

Luna relents, and she follows Lori upstairs.

Luna arrives to Sam's house a few minutes late. When Sam sees Luna walking up, she crosses her arms in disappointment. "What was taking you long?" she asked accusingly.

Luna rubs the back of her head anxiously. She couldn't think of what to say. Just seeing Sam again made her stumble on her words. "I-I'm sorry." Sam looks her over observantly, and smiles warmly. "Well, I'm glad you could make it. Come on, let's get started."

The practice went on a couple of hours, each hour being greater than the last. Luna and Sam played on their bass guitars while the other girl played on the drums, and the leader of the group was the singer. Luna continued to play fluently until she allowed her eyes to drift towards Sam. Sam waved her blonde hair back and forth in a rapid matter; beams of sweat slid down her forehead. Luna blushed heavily at the sight of her beloved rocking out. Thoughts about just laying a kiss on her lips crossed her mind several times, but she tried to suppress this until the very end of their practice.

Eventually, practice ended, and the leader of the band called it quits. He packs up his microphone and leaves alongside the other girl. This left Luna and Sam alone. Finally, she could break the ice. Sam gathered her bass guitar, and she gently placed it into its case. Luna watched her a few more times, having her thoughts conflict with each other. "Come on, Luna, you can do this," Luna says trying to reassure herself. Sam was about to leave when Luna spoke up at last.

"H-hey, great job out there, Sam."

Sam looks back at her, her grin spreading across her face. "Thanks, Luna. That means a lot."

Luna sighs deeply. "Okay, good, now I'll just have to..."

Sam interrupts her train of thought. "Oh, I had forgotten; yesterday, I received a love letter from my locker."

Luna gulps in fear. "You have?"

"Yeah; I really need to meet whoever wrote it to thank them properly."

Luna twiddles her thumbs nervously. "Hey, Sam."

Sam turned her glance to the rock star. "What is it?"

Sweat dripped from Luna's forehead. God, why did she have to be so nervous? "Do you have any plans for this evening?"

"Plans?"

Luna giggled in dread. "Well, there was this movie that I was aiming to see, a-and we could probably hang out after that..."

Sam raises her eyebrow in confusion. She didn't have a clue as to what Luna was trying to suggest, but then it hit her.

"Oh. Listen, Luna..."

Luna was shaking in fear.

"You're real cool and all, but I'm not into chicks."

Luna's heart shatters on impact upon hearing these words. After everything they had been through, it would seem only logical that they would get together. Luna had feared that Sam would reject her because of her preferences, but she held onto that hope that maybe she'd be proven wrong. But her greatest fear just became realized. Luna looks down at the floor in rejection. Sam lightly taps her shoulder, understanding the levity of the situation.

"I'm sorry, Luna," says Sam in a comforting tone "maybe we can just be friends."

Luna looks at her dejectedly. Luna was trying to put on a face of understanding, but it was only self-evident that she simply didn't want to break down in front of her crush.

"Sure, no big deal." Luna gives Sam a weak thumbs up, and Sam heads back into her house, leaving her alone. Luna couldn't believe what just happened; earlier that day, she mustered up enough courage to give Sam the love letter, but now her whole world was in shambles as Sam simply wasn't into her. Tears streak from Luna's face as she gathers her bass guitar, and walks out of Sam's garage. Luna looked up at Sam's bedroom, her eyes red from the tears. She then began her long walk back to the Loud house.

"Dude..."

[goddamnedamericanjedi]

Classic Rock Magazine Interview With Sebastian Bach

SEBASTIAN BACH          © Dave Ling - December 2002       

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 P.S. Dave says...          

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

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We’ve been excited about Doctor Who‘s latest companion, Bill Potts, for a while now. Well, if you saw actress Pearl Mackie bring Bill to stunning life in the show’s S10 premiere “The Pilot” over the weekend, you’ve likely already fallen in love with her. Of course, change isn’t easy for people, and there are always going to be some who are skeptical of a new companion no matter what. Here are some reasons why you may just become smitten if you give her a chance.

Yes, She’s a Woman of Color!

The thing that most people noticed and talked about from the moment the character was introduced was that we were finally getting another black companion. Considering that in over fifty years of Doctor Who, Mickey was the first black person to set foot on the TARDIS in 2005, and Martha was the first black full-time companion in 2007, this is a pretty big deal.

For most, this in and of itself was exciting news. Yay representation! Of course, for others, this was yet another sign of “SJWs” ruining everything. I mean, what’s next, a female Doctor? *sigh*

As trailers were released, people began forming more concrete opinions, and those who loved her seemed to love her because she’s a black character who is a positive female protagonist. Those who didn’t love her started bending over backwards to insist that their dislike of her had nothing to do with her being black. *more sigh*

The truth is, before “The Pilot” aired, none of us had enough information to make a judgment on the character one way or the other, and now that we’ve seen her in action, I’m happy to report that Bill being black, while hugely important and understandably exciting, is also the least interesting thing about her.

I love that we have a woman of color on the TARDIS again (and that black Whovians have her as a new cosplay option). I love that Bill rocks her afro majestically, providing an alternative image to Martha Jones’ straightened locks. I love that, even though she has a white foster mom, we get to see her mourn and look at her black biological mother (do I smell a future episode where Bill gets to see her mom again, a la the “Father’s Day” episode for Rose?), and I hope that she lasts longer than one season, which would be a huge first for a black companion. (Yes, Martha reappeared on both Doctor Who and on Torchwood, but she only got one season as a regular companion).

Still, her being black isn’t even what makes her awesomesauce. It’s an added bonus.

Yes, She’s Unambiguously a Lesbian!

As we got closer to “The Pilot” airing, and once people got tired of talking about Bill being a black companion, we heard that Bill was also an LGBTQIA character. This is an even bigger deal than her race in that there has never been a queer companion on Doctor Who (and no, your Second Doctor/Jamie fan fic doesn’t count. I mean, it should, but it doesn’t). The closest we’ve come is Captain Jack, but while he traveled with the Doctor a bit, he wasn’t a full-time companion (though he did get his own show, which is pretty sweet). Obviously, there’s also Madame Vastra and Jenny, but they too are supporting characters. This is the first time that a long-term resident of the TARDIS is LGBTQIA, and I am here for it.**

Even better than this basic fact, however, is how it was handled in the episode. This was all the more impressive considering that showrunner Steven Moffat wrote the episode. In the past, I’ve complained about his writing of gay and lesbian characters: grateful that he wanted to include them, but disappointed in how they seemed to be shoehorned in and inelegantly written to make a point of their inclusion. (See! I included gay people! Lookit! Lookit!) In the specific case of Vastra and Jenny, I thought some of his writing for them a bit male gazey and weird. Lots of jokes and tongue motions that felt more like what a dude enjoys watching women do, rather than what two actual female characters who are married to each other would say or do. As much as I’m #TeamVastraandJennySpinoff, I’d prefer for someone else, preferably a woman, to write it.

Bill, however, has been handled wonderfully. Not only is her sexuality integral to her personality, but it’s also integral to the plot of the episode in a really beautiful way. Her attraction to women is established right at the top of the episode as she tells the Doctor (who she thinks is a really cool university professor) about a crush that she has on a female student who always comes into the cafeteria, where she serves chips. She alludes to her sexuality again when her foster mother warns her about her new, cool university professor who’s taking an interest in her,

Later, we see her crushing on a girl named Heather (Stephanie Hyam), with whom she had a chance encounter at a bar and with whom she is reunited on the university campus—the girl with a star in her eye. It’s her attraction to Heather that propels their continual meeting, that causes an alien oil puddle that is piloting Heather’s body to continually follow Bill, and ultimately it’s the thing that makes Bill’s eventual release of Heather so sad. Hell, when Bill joins the Doctor, he tells her that it’s a big Universe and that they may well find Heather again. There may be more to the Bill/Heather relationship than one episode, and that would be a beautiful thing.

She’s Also Intelligent, Straightforward, and Enthusiastic

She may not be an enrolled student at the university where she serves chips, but unlike Rose or Donna, she doesn’t need the Doctor to unearth hidden potential, or to show her that there’s more out there than a dead-end job. She prioritizes knowledge. Of her own accord, she attends the Doctor’s classes simply because she’s fascinated by his lectures on physics and time. She might not be “Type A smart” like Martha, but she’s absorbed a huge amount of knowledge simply by being a human being who’s curious about the world around her, and she’s quick and clever in new situations because she loves to learn.

While Bill is unique in so many ways, she also has a lot of past companions’ best traits, evoking them while subtly avenging the wrong done to those companions by the Doctor. Hell, the jacket Bill wears in “The Pilot” seems like it was taken right out of Ace’s closet.

There’s a moment when the Doctor is about to mind-wipe Bill, and she tells him that she “knows what a mind-wipe looks like” because she’s seen sci-fi. She allows him to take away his memories, but only after reprimanding him and seemingly chastising him on behalf of the viewing audience for what he once did to Donna. Then, “Clara’s Theme” faintly plays, evoking Clara and how she mind-wiped the Doctor as Bill consents to being mind-wiped, but that the Doctor should first think about what it would feel like if this were happening to him. As it turns out, since Donna, he has experienced having memories taken from him, and so this time, he’s able to make a different decision with a companion.

Bill’s straightforward personality, coupled with the fact that she’s uninterested in men romantically, make her someone that seems set up to be a “bro” to the Doctor. Like the Doctor’s relationship with Donna, there’s the potential here for Bill and the Doctor to be friends on equal footing.

Much though I love Clara, and as amazing and powerful as she became over time, there was still that sense of her being amazing for the Doctor. Ie: she’s strong in order to allow for the Doctor to go on being great.

Bill is an equal right out of the gate. Not in intelligence or experience, of course, but in feeling like her ideas and thoughts deserve a seat at the table. There’s no gendered hierarchy here. It doesn’t feel like a mentor/mentee relationship, nor does the Doctor’s mission and life feel More Important than Bill. Whereas Clara and the Doctor were co-dependent “best friends,” Bill and the Doctor could genuinely be good friends to each other.

And then there’s her enthusiasm. She loves learning, she loves figuring things out, and she loves taking risks—she wants to absorb everything simply for its own sake. She’s not someone who is escaping a life she hates, or who needs to be coaxed out of her shell. She goes with the Doctor because she wants to, not because she needs to.

In part, she goes with the Doctor because there may be a Heather out there for her, but the way she was putting things together (seeing the TARDIS, seeing the Doctor and Nardole sneaking around, etc), it was only a matter of time before she decided to go with him anyway. And he would’ve been a fool to say no.

Shout-out to Pearl Mackie, who’s doing amazing work in this role and has done in one episode what it took Clara years to accomplish: winning my heart.

**There were hints that Clara was bisexual as, even though we only ever saw her with male love interests, she talked a lot about what a good kisser Jane Austen is. I wish that had been made more clear. 

(image: BBC America)

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