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Yall ever just like, subconsciously start touching yourself? Like you’re just chillin not thinking about anything in particular then five minutes later you catch yourself with your hand down your pants wishing you were inside someone

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barring extreme crisis i should be able to stream more mass effect later 😁

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I still remember the two days Charlie and Frankie met her, and I remember them real crisp and clear like they just happened. You know, I’m just looking out the bay window here at the snow falling, and I know when I make the drive back down to New York City to catch the next ferry it’s going to be hellish. But I believe I can make it there to drop off the pendant out there.

I mention the snow because it was snowing both days when Charlie and Frankie met her. The day Charlie met her Danny and I introduced her to him.

It was the last day before Christmas break in… I can’t recall which year of high school, but it was dumping snow much like how it is at the moment. Danny, Charlie, and I were talking about forming a band together, after which Danny told me about this disease called “anthrax” in a biology textbook on our walk home. It just sounded malicious and sinister, perfect for a metal band: around that time, metal bands, the ones trying to be like Motorhead and going in a faster, much swifter direction compared to Black Sabbath, had names that ended with “-er”, like “Motor-er” or “Stupider-er” or something like that. So this name that we had would set us apart from the rest from the get-go, and that was something of a theme that would later follow us when we got to recording Fistful of Metal.

Anyways, Kristina moseyed up to me and Danny alongside us, and she had her head bowed a bit from the snow falling. The snow meanwhile made her eyes pop: she actually resembled a ghost with that long almost white blonde hair streaming behind her and her pale face, and her eyes just added to the contrast.

Danny asked her, “where’s your hat?”

“I didn’t think it would snow so much today,” she admitted. She looked over at Charlie, who dwarfs the both of us, and his long dark tendrils behind his head and that deep cleft in his chin, and showed him a smile. I think he saw the guitar case on her back because he returned the favor to her.

“Mind me asking who this little lady is?” he asked us, given he attended a different high school from the three of us.

And so Danny went, “Charlie, this is Kristina. She’s a guitar player.”

“Would you be willing to play metal with us?” Charlie asked her.

“She played ‘Planet Caravan’ with me one time,” I said to him.

“I dunno if I wanna be in a band, though,” she confessed.

“Well, we’ll keep our eye on you,” Charlie told her with a wink. Obviously, it never worked out but there was a possibility that she could be with us as our guitarist. That would really set us apart, next to Joey’s powerful voice in contrast to the music we play: have one of the members be a woman!

And it took me a little while for it to sink in on my part, but Charlie had a thing for her. The days we had her alongside us, he was drawn to her and that guitar case of hers. One time, we all sat next to each other on one of those brick planters awaiting for the school bus, and I swore it would snow like any second, and he nestled up next to her. It was there I felt that sort of “protectiveness”, if you will. I wanted to be closer to her. I wanted to sit next to her there.

It didn’t help matters that Charlie had plopped himself right in between us. This big lug between me and Kristina. He had this twinkle in his eye every time she spoke up, either to him or Danny or myself. I actually got rather protective of her once Frankie entered the picture.

Danny had just been let go from his position in Anthrax because of Neil being so damn petty about things, and Charlie and I did Neil justice and showed him the door, but at that point Danny had formed Nuclear Assault as like our next door neighbors of sorts, and Frankie took his place as bassist. He was this young baby faced kid fresh out of high school with a penchant for baseball; meanwhile, I had gotten engaged to my girlfriend upon graduation. But I’m gonna say this right now: the whole thing felt like a fluke from the start, because my heart was with Kristina, especially when Frankie started hitting on her one day.

Again, it was snowing and I can’t remember the context but she walked into the studio one day looking for me, and Frankie was real kind to her, almost “too kind” if you will. But I took a peek into the room and he was showing off his arms and his chest to her, even being all wrapped up in a heavy sweater. I ducked out of there because I was feeling protective of her again, and also because Charlie put on a pot of coffee. I poured myself a cup and I stood in the room in silence for a moment, and then I turned around to overhear Charlie talking to our producer Carl in regards to our finding a new lead singer.

Almost like clockwork, she scurried up to me with a flustered look on her face, the few times I ever saw her flustered, too.

“What’s up?” I asked her as I set down my cup on the counter next to me.

“I need you to kiss me,” she said in a haste.

“Why?” I lowered the tone of my voice.

“Just do it.” She took one look at the engagement band on my left hand and then she looked back up at me.

“Do it,” she repeated. I was reticent, but then I saw Frankie over in the doorway. He was facing the other way, but I saw him there. I put my lips onto hers with a bit of conviction: I even put my arms around her to make it look like she and I were making it out. It felt so wrong but it felt so right and so good to boot, too.

Next thing I knew, we were in fact making out, and Frankie had gone. He never saw us, either, like he never mentioned it to me whenever we got into conversation with each other in private. All I knew was I had this full fledged romance with Kristina on the side and no one knew about it.

And for years, I took it as “I’m going to be buried with this.” But it wasn’t until recent when I had a change of heart of sorts. I needed to come clean about it.

And no, it wasn’t her suicide that triggered it: if it did, I would have come clean about it sooner.

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talked with some irl queer friends about the whole “everyone assumes I’m ace when I come out as aro or mention being aro” thing.

they noted “yeah, it’s like they’re practically asking ‘do you fuck or not?’” and immediately launched into that topic. and… okay, i see how alloallo ppl make this assumption. but, the point was not that. the conflating of my identity with another similar but not accurate identity was the point, especially in terms of the widespread nature. plus allosexual does not equal fucks and asexual does not equal does not fuck.

called them in on it, which they responded well too and with thought about how they could do better, but i think that response still said a lot in that moment.

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“Very much like a poltergeist.” John retorted with a slight smirk, he knew Es wouldn’t want him fawning over her and humour was much easier anyway. “Upset and bangin’ about to let out yer frustrations, that’s very poltergeist.”

Once the coffee was poured, John got himself a cup and placed a gentle hand on her back, helping walk her back to the table. “But seriously. You can’t hide the fact yer real fucked up from me, I’m the king of gettin’ fucked up ‘n trying ta hide it.”

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