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invincible-selfxmade-punk · 3 years

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My So Called Rise Against Life

All lyrics written and owned by Rise Against

No band, not even AFI, sings the soundtrack of the last 20 years of my life like Rise Against has. I was dragged to my first Rise Against show by Emily. Emily, the suicide girl, quite possibly the hottest girl in Corpus Christi, barely 5'1 and 98 pounds soaking wet, covered in tattoos and with Angelina Jolie's lips. To this day I cannot imagine why a girl who looked like that wanted to hang with me. I had never been to a gig at that little club called The Underground where the disenfranchised youth of Corpus Christi congregated. This was the very cusp of my punk rock midlife crisis and I went in scared to death because I'd heard concerts of this nature were violent.

At this point I was already considering the decision to become straightedge. I was curious but knew little about it. The sum of my knowledge was this: two of the guys in AFI were, and the guy at the mall was. The memory of this guy never leaves me. Like a stray dog with a tennis ball, catching a welcoming scent on the air, then chasing after a passing stranger who never looked down, I chased after him and each year I spent in that fruitless pursuit felt like seven. His friendship I would never win, but he would remain on the outskirts of my life, like the brass ring I reached for again and again only to fall on my face. I would see him that night too, but I didn't know this when Em invited me out. It was billed as a hardcore show. I had no idea what hardcore was back then, I just assumed it meant a rough crowd of millitant straightedge vegans that would have a sixth sense that I wasn't one of them and chase me out the doors. Rise Against was headlining and an equally unknown band called Avenged Sevenfold was opening. I'd never heard of either. Emily wanted me to go and I wanted to get out of the house for the night so it wasn't that hard for her to twist my arm in the matter. I met her at her apartment which was filth ridden, with drug paraphernalia everywhere, a wall size Misfits poster that took up the entire SIDE of her apartment, and electric guitars propped next to skateboards. As she slipped out of her clothes and into something slinky much to my viewing pleasure, she pointed me to her freezer with a purloined bottle of tropical Schnapps from the liquor store she was working for. Toasting in miniature tea cups I downed the bright blue liquid. I remember it so well, the frost covered bottle, cold in my hand, the electric blueness pouring into what looked like a child's tea party set up. This wasn't the last drink I would take, that would come two months later, yet I remember every detail of the experience. Suited up in skimpiness, we were off to the races. We hauled ass in Emily's SUV and she sat behind the wheel, dwarfed by it's hugeness and her smallness, joint in hand, careening down the expressway and swerving around orange construction barrels. As we exited into the worst part of town I had ever seen I must have looked uneasy. She turned to me and proudly exclaimed "Don't worry, I know this place! I used to score crack here!" We walked in and the first person I saw was the straightedge boy, who was taking money at the door. It was a good sign of things to come. It would also mean I would completely ignore Avenged Sevenfold's set in s stupid quest to get his attention long enough to make conversation. But Em was a champ, she stayed with me through the whole thing. In fact, I don't remember having the guts to say a word. She talked to him, I watched him talking to her and twenty feet away M. Shadows was screaming his sexy, tattooed, egotistical lungs out but I was utterly oblivious. From there we went to the merch booth where Em bought me an Avenged Sevenfold poster that I kept for years on my wall before finally giving it away right on the cusp of actually starting to listen to them. She also bought me a Rise Against patch that is still on my Dickies bag today though it is nothing more than a mess of black thread. We wandered over to the PETA booth, watched some gruesome videos, signed up for mail and picked up a cookbook I would later use to make one of the mall kids a vegan birthday cake. Then Emily spied someone she knew and I followed her over, still looking suspiciously through the crowd sure someone was just going to come up and punch me for no apparent reason. Still following, I watched as she struck up a conversation with this cute guy in glasses. I politely listened in as they talked about how they haven't seen each other since Warped Tour. For the life of me I can't remember what they talked about. I was distracted by a guy that looked like Davey Havok. Their conversation muffled to a drone until the guy looked at his watch and said "Oh crap!! I need to be on

stage! I'll talk to after the show!" and it was at that moment I realized Emily had been talking to Joe Principe of Rise Against. This was our cue as well though there was already too much of a crowd to get near the front. There were maybe one hundred people there and Tim held every one in the palm of his hand. I was amazed. I had never heard them before in my life so I can't tell you the set list but I knew from that time on I wanted to hear more. At the end Emily and I waited at the stage to talk to Tim. I had no idea what to say so I just shook his hand and now I wish I had held on a little longer. Emily got a shirt signed and talked to him for a while. Again I was too preoccupied with the AFI look-alikes in the crowd that I wasn't paying much attention. To this day I wonder if the dude I thought looked like Davey was actually Zacky Vengeance. I'll never know for sure. Soon enough Joe was with us again and he and Emily were engaged in conversation when he turned to me and said "Did that hurt?" I had NO idea what he was talking about, I was too overwhelmed by his very presence. I actually thought he was pointing past me to the PETA booth and I stupidly sputtered "What KFC is doing to chickens?" I swear to god when I'm miserable and in need of cheering up sometimes all it takes to make me smile is thinking "Hey, Joe laughed at my joke." The night drew to an end, Emily went out with the band, and being married, I went home. Next to singing a line with Dave Peters of Throwdown, that first night with Rise Against was the best night of the last ten years of my life. The next time I would see Rise Against they would be back in Corpus, opening for Bad Religion. This happened during what I call "The Emo Dave Era". I met Dave because of Rise Against. He was a little emo boy wearing a Rise Against shirt, skipping school at the mall. I stopped him and asked him about it and well that was it, he just kept coming around. I would end up knowing him for five years and eventually hiring him to work for me. By the second time they came to town Siren Song of The Counterculture was out and I remember bragging to Dave that if it was any other band I would have just downloaded it, but for them I would actually spend my hard earned money. I remember DRINKING in the songs, trying so hard to memorize all of the tracks before the gig hit. I remember the second Rise Against gig for many reasons. It was the first gig I went to alone at a time I was in the grip of panic attacks whenever I had to be in wide open spaces by myself. Two of my "mall daughters" met me at the gates and stayed with me the whole night. I remember that. I remember Dave hitting the merch table before me and buying me Rise Against stickers that I regarded like they were jewels and kept them in some special place until I hid them so well I hid them from myself. Dave and I and the girls were in the front row together, and sadly none of them I am in contact with now. Not only that, but Dave and one of the girls I was up front with would end up working for me and stealing over $1300 from my business during their tenure as my employees. Years from knowing this though we happily stood side by side and sang along for the whole set. What I remember most about that second gig was standing in front of Joe and when he sang "Single file like soldiers on a mission." I saluted him and he saluted back. Tim was wearing the exact same shirt he wore at the first gig but I was probably the only one to notice it. And when Tim asked "Who was here at our first gig when only 20 people showed up?" I proudly raised my hand. All the memorizing I did was pretty much for naught because I was so excited to be in the front row I damn near forgot every word to every song, but for some reason I knew every word to 1,000 Good Intentions. The first Rise Against show was in August, I can't tell you the date of the second one. I made my commitment to becoming straightedge sometime between December and January. I don't know the exact date because I was so scared about the whole

thing I kept it to myself "You're the new revolution The angst filled adolescent You fit the stereotype well..."

.All I know for sure was that I'd been edge several months by the second Rise Against gig at Concrete Street in Corpus. he second Rise Against gig also brings to mind another phantom of my past: a girl I was close to named Amanda (not the Amanda I went to Warped Tour w/, that Amanda I've always called Di because her screen name was Dionysus). This was Amanda's first night aout after being kidnapped and raped. Her parents were druggies and didn't want the cops involved so the guys who did it just got away with it and I'd see them at the mall all the time afterward and I couldn't do shit. It was her and her big sister who met me at the gates and stayed with me all night. I loved those girls. . . . Again, digressing. From First To Last opened and we spent the whole set talking about how much they looked like AFI. I ended up leaving the gig early, going to the house of one of them who still lived with his folks, ringing the doorbell and leaving a note in the mail box that said 'YOUR SON RAPES LITTLE GIRLS----just thought you should know'. It didn't really help anything but it made me feel better. During this mindlessly courageous time I was blinded by my commitment. I jumped into being edge with a fervor reserved for things like joining the Hari Krishnas or Jehovah's Witnesses. It was a complete make over of every idea I'd ever held. I didn't know a great deal but once I found it, I knew it was all I had been looking for. The only other person I actually knew who was edge was the straightedge boy, who now had become god-like in my mind. He was the first face of straightedge for me, the ideal, the standard, the one thing I felt I had to live up to. Sadly, by this time he was long gone, moving away from the mall where we worked and on to better things. This fact only drove me forward in a Holy Grail level quest to find him. When he was there I was terrified of speaking to him and then when he wasn't I kicked myself for not having the courage. I was sure that if I did make my way to him, he could impart some knowledge, some advice that would make my whole solitary experience make sense. The soundtrack of that quest was Blood to Bleed: "Steps I take in your footsteps Aren't getting me closer to what is left of the dreams of what I once claimed to know Within my bones this resonates...." Within weeks of each other three amazing things happened: Ceci, my best friend Amanda(Dionysus) and I went to Warped Tour to see AFI and in the process saw Rise Against as well. Then The Sufferer and the Witness came out, and at the same time Jadey and Ceci came to visit me in Corpus for quite possibly the most idyllic summer of my life. It was that summer we saw Rise Against for the third time. At that Warped Tour again we were in front of Joe, and again when Tim sang "Single file like soldiers on a mission... " we saluted Joe and he saluted us back and it was like a little piece of heaven fell to earth, the moment was so perfect. The set was

short because it was Warped Tour but we didn't care. We were together, we loved each other and we sang along with every song we knew. Sufferer and Witness came out in July right in time for Warped Tour and the girls coming down for a visit. I remember this so well because I had a cd of the straightedge boy's band and it seemed so important for me to play it for Jadey and Ceci. Do you remember that line in The Lost Boys: "Now you know what we are, now you know what you are." ? That was how it felt for me, this romanticized notion that my edge was not my own and it was all owing and belonged to someone else. I wanted to be able to trace it like a family tree to say, if I had not met him I would not have found out about AFI, I would not have made my committment, we would have never met, so therefore the life and friendship we have shared has all traced back to THIS. Well, they weren't all that impressed. I have a very clear memory of us being outside the Sonic Drive In and Jadey asking me "Please turn that noise off and put in something else." That something else was the The Sufferer And The Witnessand it stayed in the player for the rest of the trip. Ready To Fall was the song that defined the next year, much later, that I made my edge my own. In my journey I had looked to so many others for advice or reassurance or validation. I did this because I didn't believe in myself. I thought I was weak and sought in others what would make me strong. Sometimes I received it, like messages sent back and forth the guys in Throwdown and the near religious experience of seeing them live all the times I have, of singing a line with Dave, shaking his hand. Most of the time though my search was in vain. I remember very clearly seeking out help online. One guy told me I would never know who I was until I went to a hardcore show. This wasn't exactly bad advice, hardcore shows had the most amazing energy flowing through them and it did feel good to be surrounded by like minded people. The only thing I really learned about myself through going to hardcore shows was that if God had wanted me to hardcore dance, He would not have given me boobs. There was another guy who told me only the most insecure person would EVER wear a straightedge shirt out in public and if you were sincere about it, you'd keep it to yourself. I thought that guy was nuts. The whole POINT of being edge to me was proving I was not like the idiots around me. "With your eyes Glazed and half-smiled Explain to me the details of your God-given right You point your finger In my face but You can't remember what you did last night" I asked another guy what to do if I was tempted to drink again and he told me if I was tempted I was never really straightedge to begin with and I should just do the scene a favor and kill myself already. Then there were the kids that thought I was just the bees knees and were coming to ME for advice. I had no idea what to tell these kids, but I wasn't about to tell them not to wear sXe gear or kill themselves. Because of my own search for answers I refused to turn any kid away. One day they were telling me I was their hero and begging for advice, the next they were telling me I was out of my mind and to get lost. It took a good four years before I learned not to believe them in either case. "This could be my great awakening But how would I know when it's all noise to me? Are these words falling on deaf ears?" Right in the middle of this I had the good fortune to meet a guy named Chris X from Philly. He neither worshipped nor ignored me. He was simply THERE. I have the most vivid memory of this one morning. I had the same dream about the straightedge boy only this time I stepped out and stopped him and asked him if the hormones levels in milk made people more aggressive the way steroids did and asked if I should stop drinking it. Why this popped into my head I will never know. As usual the alarm rang before the blurry form opened his mouth and imparted wisdom. I woke up at 5 am and suddenly HAD to know

the answer to the question. It happened that Chris X was up too. I contacted him and he took the time out of his morning to discuss this with me completely out of the blue. I don't know why this sticks out in my memory but it does: Him being up at five am and taking an hour out of his morning to answer some moronic question from a girl he didn't know and being so nice about it. He is still edge, we are still friends and he is still there when I need him. He is the exception to the rule. Friends fell away and I remained steadfast, yet alone. Slowly though there came the time when I realized I needed to look no further than in the mirror. It wasn't like this was a new thing. I was told this many times and yet I never believed it. Right about this time Rise Against released Ready To Fall: "But here in this moment like the eye of the storm It all came clear to me I found a shoulder to lean on An infallible reason to live all by itself I took one last look from the heights that I once loved And then I ran like hell" The heights I once loved were ego driven, the compulsion to wear a straightedge shirt every day and X's for every gig and dare anyone to tell me otherwise. It was that romanticized notion of my edge,--that it hadn't been mine and all I was, was owed to someone else. It was as if I believed someone had physically stood between me and a fridge full of alcohol that first year and kept me from it. Or that someone had been there to comfort me when my husband was drunk or in a bad mood and was calling me names or throwing me around because I dared come home with a book of Marxist writing or simply did not shut up and go along or renounce my beliefs. I healed myself, I comforted myself and I did almost all of it completely alone. It was slow in dawning but it finally came to me that I was the only one I had to inspire or impress, and my own approval was all I needed. This revelation was scored by every track on Sufferer and Witness. The fourth time I saw Rise Against, I met Ceci in Austin to see them at Stubb's. Stubb's BBQ is a grand place to see any band because if you get there early enough, you can have lunch on the balcony while watching the band's sound check. We found this out the first time we went there, seeing The Rollins Band open up for X. Going to the Rise Against show I told myself "It's not big deal, I've seen them three times before, I'm just going to kick back and eat and enjoy the sound check" but as soon as Tim and Joe took the stage I could barely consume a thing I was so overwhelmed. As we waited in line after lunch for the doors to reopen, I met Ceci's brother Jordan who is, wildly enough, still my friend. Jordan. He hovers on the edges of my life, always there with a kind word whether I actually deserved it or not. He is the only good thing to come out of my friendship with Ceci. Evergreen Terrace opened that show and we were right in front of the guy in the Straightedge Soldier tshirt and that and a brilliant cover of "Mad World" was all I remembered of their set. Circa Survive came on next and Ceci and I took turns booing them and flipping them off. Not that they were necessarily bad, but we were in no mood to entertain the mopey emo set at that point. Soon we were all piled together up front, again in front of Joe. I didn't get to salute him at that gig. Ceci's arms were too tightly around me. Ceci, her girlfriend Grace, Jordan and my husband were tangled in a sea of arms, so tightly that I wasn't sure of whose hand I was holding most of the night. Though by that time I was perfectly comfortable in my commitment, Blood to Bleed still only reminded me of one person and Ceci knew this. I felt she understood me then, I felt she was one of the very few who knew me best. Beside me was my husband, but in my heart was a dream of someone else, of someone who shared my commitment and my ideals, a dream of an idea more than a person, the perfect guy/relationship/life I would never have. Two months later I would find out my husband was seeing a girl from work

that had got him hooked on heroin. Two months later he would come to where I worked and attack me in front of multiple witnesses and when called, the police would do nothing. Two months later I would sit sobbing in the back of a police car because I was too afraid to go into my own apartment and get my things. When responding to my call the enormous officer would glare down at me and say "Why are you afraid to walk in your own home? Are you on drugs or are you just retarded?" Instead of accompanying me inside to get my things they would search me for drugs. Two months later I would realize why Henry Rollins hated cops so much. Two months later. after ten years together, I would leave my husband. I did not know any of this then. All I knew was that in that instant my heart was bleeding inside of me for want of some friendship I would never have, the one thing I believed would make my life complete. It was that friendship, that idea of a person, of perfection, of everything I wanted myself and my life to be, that seemed like the holy grail of the second part of my life. Looking back, maybe it held value only because it was unobtainable. I had not yet learned to find it in myself so I sought it so furiously in a stranger. So, with the ridiculously angelic vision of the first straightedge boy I ever met in my head, and my unfaithful husband beside me, in that crowd at Stubb's, Rise Against tore into Blood To Bleed. It was our first time to hear it live together as they had not played it at Warped Tour. Ceci looked down at me, wrapped her arms around me and held me tight because she knew exactly who I was thinking of and why. As she held on to me with one hand and ran a hand through my hair, we both screamed out those lyrics that had haunted me and driven me on for years. "This place rings with echos of lives once lived, but now are lost Times spent wondering about tomorrow I don't care if we lose it all tonight Up in flames, burning bright.... Within my bones this resonates Boiling blood will circulate Could you tell me again what you did this for?" And just like I was blind to what was about to erupt with my husband I was just as blind to time bomb ticking inside of Ceci that would turn her into a complete stranger the next time we met, at the very same place it would turn out. Had I known that this was the last time she would hold my hand and sing with me and look down on me with love and empathy in her eyes, I would not have wasted my sorrow in grieving for a friendship that never was and instead would have known to grieve for the real friendship I was losing. I should have grieved for hers, but in retrospect, it was no more real than the idea of the one I chased after so fruitlessly. "I don't love you anymore is all I remember you telling me never have I felt so cold But I've no more blood to bleed Cuz my heart has been draining into the sea...." And the strange footnote to that day, that time, that moment of hope and loss and all that was to come is this: Even though his friendship I never actually earned, in his status of a wise, polite stranger, that straightedge boy I never really knew was far more civil than Ceci. His responses, however short they were, however long it took to get them, were genuine. It is such a small thing, his honesty, yet it is more than I can say for ninety percent of the people I've known in the last several years. Another song we sang together that night was Prayer of the Refugee. I had no idea then but that song was about to describe my life. "We are the angry and desperate The hungry and the cold We are the ones who kept quiet and always did what we were told But we've been sweating while you slept so calm in the safety of your homes We've been pulling at the nails that hold up everything you own."

The split with my husband was brutal. First I had to deal with police that didn't care, who told me at one point "Well, if he tries to kill you, call us back, otherwise there's nothing we can do. He's your husband and he has the same right to live here as you do." Thanks to the police not doing anything, I was thrown out of the apartment I had paid for for ten years. The battered women's shelter was full and I would have found myself homeless had it not been for my friend Lilo. Suddenly I was having to start from scratch and then, upon finding a place, having to pack up ten years worth of my life and move it all by myself. "I hit the ground and I'm still running but I need a place to stay tonight I swear I'll be gone in the morning I just need some place warm to close my eyes." Every day I worked until the afternoon, went home and packed until 2 am, fell asleep until 5 am and then got up and did it all again. Then once I was packed I had to move it all. I can't remember why I didn't ask for help but I moved it all alone except for the bed, entertainment center and tv. "The drones all slave away They're working overtime They serve a faceless queen They never question why Disciples of a god That neither lives nor breathes But we've got bills to pay Yeah we've got mouths to feed I won't go back..." This was such a strange time. There was no way to hide what was going on: my husband came to where I worked and jumped me in front of everyone there, I had to tell my boss "My husband kicked me out and I'm homeless at the moment, could I possibly get my check a day or two early to put a deposit down on an apartment?" and I had to own up to the fact that I was straightedge and my husband was a heroin addict. "We're broken but still breathing We are wounded but we are healing We pick up right where we left off Breathe on the ashes that remain So that these coals may become fire To guide our way.." This made my life suddenly seem a really bad B movie. There was nothing to do but go on. I would have asked myself "What would that straightedge guy do in this situation?" if I'd had any idea. Instead I asked "What would Dave Peters of Throwdown do?" and of course the obvious answer was "punch something". As much as I wanted to, I couldn't do that. However, I knew for sure what he wouldn't do and that was curl up in a ball and cry. So I didn't do that either. It was a such horrible time and yet when I look back all I remember is my own strength and the exhilaration I felt when I finally left. "So give me the drug Keep me alive Give me what's left of my life Don't let me go... Pull this plug, let me breathe On my own, I'm finally free..."

Lilo and Di swore I looked great, like I had suddenly gotten 10 years younger. They said I was glowing, but unless I had come in contact with radium I certainly didn't see how. I remember thinking "Well hell, maybe the Socialists were right. Maybe 16 hour days are the way to salvation." "Wake me up inside Tell me there's a reason To take another step To get up off my knees and, Follow this path of most resistance. And where ever it takes us, Whatever it faces and wherever it leads" As I came into my own power, the straightedge boy who had loomed so god-like over the first years of my commitment shrank back down to human size. Deep down I still hoped that if he was to know of all I had gone through he would be a little proud of me for surviving with my integrity intact. But if he didn't, well that was okay too. Survive I did, survive I continue to. "Somewhere between happy, and total fucking wreck Feet sometimes on solid ground, sometimes at the edge To spend your waking moments, simply killing time Is to give up on your hopes and dreams, to give up on your... Life for you, has been less than kind So take a number, stand in line We've all been sorry, we've all been hurt But how we survive, is what makes us who we are" When I had my own place and my own life again, to celebrate I bought myself a Christmas present: a tattoo of a sparrow carrying brass knuckles in her beak. It reminded me of this lyric that had been echoing in my head the whole time: "And if strength was born from heartbreak Then mountains I could move If walls could speak I pray that they would tell me what to do." I enjoyed more than six months of solitude in my cozy little apartment on Airline. I filled my weekends with walks on the beach, solitary shopping excursions for meatless dinners, and nights were spent at the House of Rock and the Underground watching bands, enjoying the freedom of staying out without getting yelled at or called names. I spent Christmas alone on Lilo's floor stuffing myself with processed cheeseballs and watching movies. It was my first UnChristmas. The Jehovah's Witnesses would have been proud! "Warm yourself by the fire, son, And the morning will come soon. I’ll tell you stories of a better time, In a place that we once knew. Before we packed our bags And left all this behind us in the dust, We had a place that we could call home, And a life no one could touch."

But I am flawed and cowed and crippled by the Christian concept of forgiveness. And by the time I would be seeing Rise Against again, my husband would be back by my side. In West Texas his mom had ran him through the MHMR system, let them start him on 7 different drugs, ---including three different tranquilizers and pills for hallucinations and seizures, which he never once had,--- used him to get on welfare, disability, and Medicare. Once he's served the purpose, she called a friend in the sheriff's department and had him pulled from her house, drugged out of his mind on meds at the time, and stuck on a bus to Corpus Christi. The Glasscock County Sherriff's Department called me at work to TELL me "Your husband is on a bus to Corpus, he'll be there at two am. He's your responsibility now." On the bus, because of his state of stupor, he was robbed of everything but his clothes and as much as I wanted to just shove him into the closest homeless shelter, I couldn't. Had it been me, as unlikely as that would be, I would want someone to have compassion. "We are the children you reject and disregard These aching cries come from the bottom of our hearts You can't disown us now, we are your own flesh and blood And we don't disappear just because your eyes are shut" I took him in. At first it was easy. Thanks to the drugs he was sleeping 18 hours a day. Finally I started to investigate what they had him on, what he could do without and how to get him back to normal. I'm not sure how I did it, but I weened him off of every drug he was on. At first it was out of necessity since I was making too much money for him to stay on state sponsored help and he'd have run out eventually. Looking back though, had he sustained that amount of drug intake for long he would have probably died. So he was back for good and conversely Ceci and Jadey and nearly every other friend I had at the time would have turned their backs on me and flocked to other, cooler individuals. All those kids that convinced me they would have killed themselves, starved themselves, cut themselves to shreds, OD'ed, etc had they not met me, who all imposed their problems and lives on mine for five years or more and took up every spare moment of my time and every inch of my heart all turned 18 at once. In turning 18 they realized they knew it all and I was no longer worth their time. "And if you think your words will ever make a difference Think again and carry on..." My husband and I are still together, but all those friends are long gone. I wish I could say he gave up all his demons, but he didn't. He simply traded the big ones for a myriad of lesser evils. He will never be straightedge. And though he claims to be proud of me, to this day he is convinced, utterly falsely, I am hiding some secret affair with the straightedge boy from years ago. I sat him down one day and asked "Do you get that we are straightedge? Do you get that in being straightedge we could not possibly cheat on our significant others and remain straightedge? Do you get that no matter how much he influenced me I barely knew him and he barely gave me the time of day? Do you get that what you are accusing me of is utterly impossible?”

Despite his insistence on this, the idea doesn't bother him enough for him to give up his own addictions and become edge himself. He no longer asks me to change and he is no longer violent, thank god. I no longer ask him to change, though I pray every day he will. We have been together for twenty years now and I have never been with anyone else. This doesn't keep me from dreaming of some nice sXe man who shares my ideals. But I think of it much like I imagine racing on the autobahn, knowing it will never actually happen and knowing I’d never do it even if I could. "We live on front porches and swing life away We get by just fine here on minimum wage If love is a labor I'll slave til the end..." Things in my life settled down for a bit as we prepared to see the boys again at Stubb's BBQ. Through myspace I found my friend Linda that I had not spoken to in fifteen years. As we sat on the balcony at Stubb's I kept one eye on the stage and the other on the door waiting to see her again. When she walked through the doors it was like the last fifteen years never even happened and instantly we picked up right where we left off and again were tearing through Austin with her at the wheel like we had so many times in the past. Because of this joyful reunion I was not first in line when the doors opened, I was buying rainbow necklaces in the gay shops in town and snickering over whether the guy behind the counter was flirting with my husband or not. - That was a strange memory for me, being in the very back of the audience for once, singing alone as Aaron sat on a rock and read a Robert Jordan novel. I was happy to be there, the music was incredible, but the feeling was all wrong. I was isolated and alone, in the back row with my fist raised and Aaron tugging at my arm every other song asking "What song is this? Do I know this one?". I wondered if Ceci was there in the front row, holding on to someone else and convincing them she would have killed herself if they hadn't come into her life. I imagined others in the front row, in our place, saluting Joe, singing our songs while I was the interloper that did not belong anymore. We walked out of the sold out show before the encore, a long drive home facing us. Aaron never lets me stay for the encores. He always wants to hit the road. As we walked to the car, with Worth Dying For wafting through the air above us, I blew a kiss to the wind and told Ceci goodbye. "Feel me rise in the strength I've found inside the warm embracing air Like a glacier melting watch me dissipate I searched for love in an empty world but all I found was hate" It was the lyrics of Rise Against that echoed in my head when I sat down to read the words of Marx and Lenin for the first time as a whole other world opened up for me. It was Rise Against that drove me on as I worked sixty hour weeks. "We're losing daylight but I can't work any faster Under the veil of dust we go on..." Their lyrics saw me through every major event of the last several years of my life. Appeal to Reason was released in the Fall of 2008 and though the year found me miserably poor and unemployed, I still bought it the day it came out. It was on my mp3 player and as I sat in the welfare office applying for food stamps I would hear the lyrics "Despite these petty fortunes we still can't afford a life...." for the first time and I would pause a moment just for the whole zeitgeist effect of it. For Christmas of 2008 I received an email from Ceci after a year and a half of ignoring my every attempt at contacting her. I had tried everything, even terribly childish measures to get some kind of reaction but every letter---first polite, then angry, then groveling-- every call, email, and package was met with silence. A year and a half passed and then I got the email saying "I got the new Rise Against and it made me realize how much I loved and missed you and loved AFI and I want to be friends again. I know you can't forgive me but can we be friends again? There's this song on that new Rise Against that

reminds me of you." True to the bond we had once held there was certainly a song on the new Rise Against that reminded me of us too: "Identities assume us as nine and five add up Synchronizing watches To the seconds that we lost I looked up and saw you I know that you saw me We froze but for a moment In empathy I brought down the sky for you but all you did was shrug" This was exactly what happened the last time we saw each other when she turned up her nose and pretended not to know who I was, just a week after sending me a letter saying how much she loved me. This led to the year plus of her not speaking to and ignoring all attempts at contact I made, even the immature ones. "And if you see me please just walk on by Walk on by Forget my name and I'll forget it too Failed attempts at living simple lives Simple lives Always keep me coming back to you." But too much time had passed and although that Christian weakness crippled me so with my husband, for once I stood strong and had no trouble in keeping the door to my heart shut. I told her not to contact me again. "I count the times that I've been sorry Now my compassion slowly drowns If there's a time these walls could guard you Then let that time be right now."

That doesn't mean that my mind does not still light to her like a bee to a flower, the years we were friends, that feeling of love and camaraderie and the bond I imagined we had. The last three Rise Against albums play the soundtrack of our friendship whenever I turn them on. When I play Appeal to Reason I wonder if this song reminds her of me:

"It kills me not to know this but I've all but just forgotten what the color of her eyes were and her scars or how she got them" If I close my eyes I am there again in that Port Aransas condo, the night we met face to face after talking online for so long. We are huddled together in the bedroom sharing the earphones of a cd player listening to Placebo's Sleeping With Ghosts. I am pulling down the zipper of my boot and showing her three freshly razored X's cut into my ankle, the blood still stuck to a wad of tissue pressed between my sock and skin. She is crying and wrapping her arms around me and telling me she understands everything and that someday she will show me her scars too. "I'll show you mine If you'll show me yours first Let's compare scars I'll tell you whose is worse Let's unwrite these pages and replace them with our own words..." She never did show me her scars. I wonder now if she even had any. There are lots of songs that transport me back then when she was my world. But now I know nothing about her nor anyone else I knew then was real and I wonder if that song ever reminds her of me and the way she led me to believe I was her lifeline, right up until the moment she cut me off and forgot me like a favorite toy after adolescence destroys the need for such playthings. "As the telling signs of age rain down a single tear is dropping through the valleys of an aging face that this world has forgotten ..." This is the music that accompanied my feet hitting the pavement of park sidewalks and treadmills, it is the melodies that buoyed me through endless work weeks and settled into the recesses of my heart in times of quiet contemplation. As I read words written years ago by writers we were never allowed to study in school, it is the soundtrack that played in my mind when those concepts began to make sense. When I read Ten Days that Shook the World by John Reed, what I was hearing in my head was

"but these ghosts come alive like water and wine walk through these streets singing songs and carrying signs, to them these streets belong.." As I struggled to understand the Communist Manifesto I was thinking to myself: "Unknowing, we lie and wait for the rain To wash away what they have made Face down in the dirt with your foot on my back In the distance I hear thunder crack C'mon Stand up! This system of power and privilege is about to come to an end Here come the clouds The first drop is falling down" I look back at many things and laugh. I remember when I was first looking for straightedge shirts I came upon one that said SUPPORT LEFTIST HARDCORE. I had no earthly idea what it meant and was way too scared to ask anyone. Now I can quote Trotsky. When I first turned edge I stopped eating meat for several months until my husband found out and started calling me a Communist. At the time it seemed like the worst thing in the world to be called. He still calls me a Communist but now with laughable results. I'll cock my head, say something to him in Russian, he'll mumble under his breath 'Yeah you only say that because you've had sex with the entire Communist party!", I'll roll my eyes and we go back to our common denominators of movie quotes, comic books, and making fun of people. I always loved the way the Russian alphabet looked and shortly after we were married I got a tramp stamp with his initials in Russian. He now claims it actually means "Welcome aboard, Comrade." I just laugh and we kid each other and life goes on. In the great Holy Grail of a search for wisdom that I thought could only come from the first straightedge boy I knew, I had one great fear: what if I found him again and he was no longer edge? I was terrified of this, sure that if he fell I would too, that if that touchstone was gone, all would be lost. This no longer worries me. I would be sad if it happened, but it would not affect my journey nor cause me to stumble because I have found my own way. It was hard way full of work, trial and error and pure blind luck. Maybe it would have been easier if things had gone differently and yet it is all mine and no one else's.

I have now seen Rise Against eight times each with its own small dramas, like when I was working for Job Corps, worked an 18 hour day, literally passed out in my car from low blood sugar and exhaustion—luckily before I had started the engine. I somehow made it home, downed two peanut butter sandwiches and went to the show where I had no energy to dance, but just stood there and sang.

The last show was the best in years for me. I was in the second row behind a little boy and his mom. His mom was my age and it was her son’s first concert. He was there to see NOFX. They put on an incredible show and I did my best to keep the crowd off the kid. As a reward, the mother gave me their spot and they went to the back when Rise Against came on. I had not been in the front row since that show with Ceci. I felt like I was twenty again. Rise Against is the music that scores ALL of this in my memory. It is the sound of hope and loss, of new directions and ideas, of the brass ring becoming just another small cog in the great, silent machinations of my soul. It is the music of discovering that the strength of the world lies inside my own heart. It is the sound of me walking away from what I loved, it is the joyous noise of friends you're certain is lost forever coming back to you. This is my so-called Rise Against life

#rise against lyrics #rise against #long post under cut #spilled ink

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lokispettigerr · 5 years

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Only an Echo: Tom Hiddleston and Mystery Guest??? x Female Reader (SMUT) NSFW

Summary: Tom and Female reader decide to sign up for a partners yoga class. However, the heat is turned up inexplicably when the instructor begins to work closer than expected.

Warnings: Non-con, threesome, PDA

A/N: taken from an Imagine I created with Tom Hiddleston and Loki using gifs of Tom Hiddleston doing yoga.

Taglist: in the reblog.

The soothing music surrounded me; low beating drums thumping rhythmically in time with my pulse. Hollow sounding flutes and reed-like instruments rang out, putting my mind in a trance, and the metallic strum of the guitar could be heard over it all.

I took a deep breath in, inhaling the smell of sweaty musk from the other yoga practitioners mixing with the sandalwood and dragons blood incense. The air was smoky, thick with the incense that trailed throughout; swaying and twirling, going between a fast puff and a slow trickle. It was like a dancer, trying to seduce the people who stared for too long, a siren or a succubus comprised of smoke. Tom was completely content beside me, relaxed and in his element. His warrior pose was striking. His thick arms sticking out to each side of him like great beams waiting for some unspoken kill command, cutting the air. His shirt was soaked with his delicious sweat and I could see it beading down his chest. I wanted to lick it up, to graze my hot lips against his pecs and abdomen-- trialing fiery kisses down towards his pant line.

Gods… Did he have to be so hot? We had decided to sign up for a couple’s yoga class-- it seemed like something that could be fun! We had been looking at information boards around town one day, our interests in concerts, festivals and the like, when we found the poster for the class posted up on a beam on the sidewalk. “Come release your inner sensuality, use your body for your own sexual awakening and empowerment”. It was only $20 per couple for the first session. I knew this class today was going to spice up the bedroom and I was counting down the seconds until it was over so I could jump Tom’s bones. A dark, sultry, male voice rang out over the swaying, tribal music. “Now,” it said, accentuating the “N”, “Men, approach your partners. I want you to help deepen their downward dog stretches… Really pull those hips back”. That voice, midnight blue, something that birthed constellations in my mind, it sounded so familiar-- like I had known that voice my entire life. Tom approached me, his hands grabbing my hips, gently. Before I bent down, I stood on my tippy toes trying to see who the voice belonged to, looking for a familiar face, but I never saw the instructor. I searched around the room, but only saw the other couples taking the class. All of them were partnering up, each man taking their partners and helping guide them down. I bent down with the rest of the women and a few men belonging to same sex couples. The tip of my braid slid down around my shoulders and touched the floor as I lowered my head. My hands slowly inched out in front of me, opening my shoulders, stretching both my back and my hamstrings as my legs remained still. Tom was holding my hips helping me deepen my stretch. I could feel his enormous erection flush against my lower lips as I bent. Like a cat that awoke from a deep slumber in the sun, I stretched contentedly, a smug smile on my face. I was so proud of what my body could do to Tom. He was so responsive to the way I looked, the way I moved, the way I sounded… Everything about me. It was like we were made for one another, and in truth we were. “Yes,” the instructor purred, deeply, “lovely form, all of you, deeper still.” I thought I could feel his eyes directly on me. I flushed, hearing the innuendo, my arousal pulsating and resting directly in my lower lips as Tom’s massive cock heated and became even harder. He pulled back on me harder still and I moved with him. I couldn’t help it, my arousal was too much for me to stand and I began to slowly gyrate my hips into his waiting and greedy cock. I heard a distinctly erotic chuckle, dark and smooth like chocolate, sinful too. Had it come from Tom or the instructor? I couldn’t hold the thought for long; my sexuality and Tom’s scent was clouding my thoughts. All the blood that should be helping me think by going to my brain was going elsewhere. “Up, partners reach up,” the familiar voice demanded, the stars it bespoke twinkled alluringly. I reached out, stretching towards them.

Tom stood out behind me, his hands trailing from my hips up the curve of my waist to cup hungrily at my full breasts. His thumb and index finger plucked and softly twisted the buds of my nipples. The heat from my womanhood grew. I could barely stand it.

I drew a deep breath in, trying to calm myself and my breasts swelled in Tom’s hands.

His lips were at the back of my neck, sending chills down my arms and my nipples hardened craving his lips around them. I had chosen not to wear a bra and the shirt I was wearing was so light and breathable that it felt like Tom was caressing my nipples, feeling the bumps on my areolas. I leaned back into him, his dick reaching up my rear. “Relax partners, that is all for today. I will turn the lights down and you all can lay down on the floor, clear your mind. Leave when you are ready,” the instructor said. I looked again to see who the voice belonged to, but the room went dark and I could no longer make out anyone’s face but Tom’s, who laid down next to me, one of his hands remaining on my breasts, massaging it. I grabbed at his clothes, plucking at the moist neckline to bid him to climb on top of me, to feel his rigid body and length on my own. It didn’t matter to me that there were other people in the yoga studio, all that I felt, all that I knew was that it was just me and Tom. Tom rolled over to me, his lips meeting my own, moving with them in a sweet caress of unity. My searching hands wet to the lip of his shirt, lifting it up and diving inside to explore the muscled abdomen underneath. His skin was erotically smooth with muscles that were hard as granite, and I could feel them straining and pulling underneath my cool touch as he rocked his hips, rubbing his cock against me, craving friction and my touch. “Tom, I need you,” I whispered in his ear, my lips kissing a freckle there. In response to my desperation, Tom’s hand went down to my yoga pants and started to lift them. His hand going down, plunging towards my warm, wet folds. My eyes shot open in the dark and I gasped, excitement and longing taking over. “But there are other people here,” I rasped trying to find my logic. He pulled back, looking me in the eyes, “Let them watch me make you cum. Watch your body rise up off the mat in pure bliss and ecstasy while you cry out my name”. My hands met his pecs and I pushed lightly against him, “No, Tom, please”. I breathed against him. He pulled back listening to my pleas, but I pulled him forward again. My mouth said no, but my body craved him-- all of him, his cock, his hands, his mouth on mine, his eyes gazing at me, his voice, his breath, his hot cum, his very soul. And, Oh gods, Tom had climbed between my legs spreading them with his own. His throbbing cock was sitting right at my opening. Hot, huge, protruding. The pressure was building and our clothes, our despicable, unacceptable clothes, were in the way. My walls clenched, tightly, wetting my panties. The pleasure building deep within my belly. All Tom would need to do was barely graze over my swollen, pulsing clit and I would melt into oblivion. Just then, a loud, slow clap began to ring out, clap...clap...clap… A clap produced by strong, rough hands. Tom stopped kissing my lips but continued humping me. He chuckled and it echoed somewhere else in the room. The very same as his own, dark, smooth, deeply erotic and unholy.

I could hear long strides, slowly approaching us, “Well, well, well. What have we here?” The voice called out shrouded in shadow. I pushed against Tom, “Tom,” I whispered, “cut it out.” “Please, don’t stop on my account.” “Tom,” I hissed, “I’m serious!” “I wonder...Do you think he can fuck you like I can fuck you?” the voice inquired. This was just too weird, what kind of yoga instructor was this? I didn’t sign up for this. I was faithful to Tom, but somehow the idea of a threesome with this erotic voice that caused goosebumps to rise on my skin and my nipple buds to tighten made me feel so very aroused. “Two pets then, how lucky of me. You two fuck like rabbits in heat.” he paused sniffing the air, “Oh my, my, you are in heat. Ripe with the scent of it. No wonder he can’t control himself around you. Absurd of you to think he can. I empathize with him completely,” the voice said facetiously, placing a hand over his heart in a false gesture of solidarity. “Has he never told you how truly dangerous it is to walk about the world smelling like that? What kind of people you invite? I can’t possibly stop myself, and you, mortal”, the voice cloaked in shadow said, waving a slender hand at my form, “can’t withstand me at all.” I gulped and my eyes widened. “Oh please don’t be frightened, you have that look… What’s it called, doe in headlights? When I sense fear on a woman such as yourself it sends me into a frenzy, and we wouldn’t want to tear up that weeping wet pussy of yours now would we?” “I don’t understand…” I lied. “Oh, don’t play the fool with me, pretty little pet.” he scolded with a chuckle full of malice so dark it could cause a rose to whither. “Male pet will clean you up once I have had my way with you, he can taste your honey dew pussy when I have torn it asunder while you clean your pheromones off my cock. Understood?” the voice asked. I didn’t respond, I was shocked to silence. “Well, if you don’t understand now, you will soon. You will beg for his tongue on your clit to soothe it and my cock down your throat to stifle your moans. “But first, you must turn over.” Though I wanted to protest, to scream, I did as the voice bid. It was hypnotic, alluring, toxic, and magic all in one. I would have done whatever the voice told me to do. I turned. “Good girl,” the voice praised. Without any warning an enormous burning pressure was at my opening, pushing past the lips and pulling them with it as he forced his way into me. I cried out, but his hand went to my throat cutting me off. “Take it!” he hissed as he pushed into me harder. I began to feel a burning of heat and passion in my loins. I couldn’t deny that I was aroused by his confidence and his actions. Tom had practically made me pant and plead for some kind of sexual attention with his kissing and petting. His cock began to create an odd sensation, the remaining length that was still trying to bury itself within me was hurting my lips, but the head and length inside was already coated with my slick juices. Stupidly, I pulled away from the painful pressure leaning forward on my hands and knees. And the conqueror’s arms wrapped like a vice around my sensitive, roiling hips. The more I pulled away from him the more forceful he became and the tighter he held me. I began to whimper, and for a split second he let up before grabbing me and ramming the rest of his length within me making my breast bounce and my cervix tighten with lust. His beating against my pussy was direct and controlled-- as if he was afraid he would not be able to control his ejaculation. But soon the wiggling from my hips and moans from my lips proved too much for him. I had easily seduced him as he had seduced me. As I would buck and grind against him, surprised by my appetite for him, he would begin to frenzy. His fingers raked through my hair to rest at the ends, pulling it back as he exposed my neck and held me still. “No,” he cried out as I began to roll my hips, “Don’t move,” he demanded in a hostile whisper. I nodded. “Move and I won’t be able to stop myself from cumming in your soaking--” he stopped, stifling his own moan, his words were driving him to the point of insanity. With a growl he pumped into me, pushing me down between my shoulder blades so he could hold dominion over my form. “Too late, too late,” he grunted quickly as he gripped my hips and rammed into me. I cried out as he came, pumping his burning hot cum deep within. His body straightened and went rigid in his bliss. When he was finished riding out his climax he snapped his fingers, “Clean her.” And Tom’s tongue was on my pained, throbbing pussy. It hurt but felt so good, and I began to cry as I went between jerking away from his quick tongue to rubbing my pussy lips on his mouth. As his tongue rhythmically incapacitated me, I felt the familiar electric sensation begin in my hips and spill over until I lost my mind into oblivion in pleasure. “I think you have had enough for today. As much as I would enjoy placing my greedy cock down your throat I think we should save it for when you wake.” My eyes were closed and I lay panting on the floor. What did he mean when I wake? I wasn’t asleep.

My eyes fluttered open and I lay in my bed, staring up at the lazily spinning ceiling fan, I turned my head on the pillow to look at my bedmate. “Loki?” I called out, still half asleep. “Love?” he replied, his head resting on his hand. “Did you enjoy the dream?” I smiled, nodding and drifted back to sleep, his eyes ever watchful over my sleeping, vulnerable form.

********************

Thanks for reading friends! Please be so kind as to share some positive thoughts and experiences with this fic with me! I love it! Asks are encouraged.

Reblog this bitch so hard! *If you would like to be added to the general Loki and/or Tom taglist please send me an ask.

#loki fanfic #tom hiddleston fanfic #loki #imagine loki #tom hiddleston #imagine tom hiddleston #tom hiddleston loki #loki x you #loki x reader #loki smut #loki mcu #loki marvel #tom hiddleston smut #smut #tom hiddleston x you #tom hiddleston x reader #loki odinson

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laketaj24 · 6 years

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Yooo can I get 33 with Hvitserk that’s both fluffy and smutty? I haven’t seen a ton of fics with him and that makes me a lil sad.

Requested by Anon: 4 and 32 with Hvitserk please!!!

Yo! you are completely right!! I’m working on a Hvitserk fic currently! But I don’t plan to post until I have more developed!!! So I hope this oneshot can do some good!

Taste Test: Hvitserk

The soft hints of cherry and almond drift smoothly down yourthroat, yes to this. You exhale placing the amaretto sour down. Work hadconsumed everything you had presently and there was no reason to act as if youdidn’t deserve this drink.

“that’s like your fifth one.” Mariah said.

“Okay, and after this I will have a sixth.” You laugh. “I’,gonna send Hvit a nasty picture. Like dirty as fuck and then ignore his ass forthe rest of the night.”

“That’s cruel.” Mariah poured sweet and sour into her cupand then added a splash of amaretto. “I think you should just invite him overand rock his world. And let me tell you something about some good dick… itcures headaches, tension and sadness.” She over exaggerates taking her cup withher to the sectional in the middle of the living room.

“You are extremely freaky ma’am.”

“It’s because I am living vicariously through you… make himrecord it and we can talk about positions later.”

“Shut up.” You spit. “Hvitserk won’t come anyhow. I haveasked like seven times and every single time he tells me some new shit aboutculinary school and why he can’t come. Fuck him. I’m gonna send him thispicture and get myself off.” A grin spreads across your face. “Actually, I’m goingto send an audio of it and send to him.”

“You devilish freak you.” Mariah shakes her head. “I will carrymy ass right across the hall and allow you to act on your plan ma’am.”

And she did leave you alone but once alone the urge to act outon anything you had said dissolved and you just snapped a picture sending it tohim. You finish down the last of amaretto and turn on One direction. Your secretaddiction but all their songs made you have a private concert in the livingroom. You grab the brush singing Steal My Girl like they’re there with you. “EVE-“Theknocking on the door makes you drunkenly stumble to the door. You swing thedoor open and there he stands. The white shirt is clinging to his chest due tothe rain and his hair is drenched.

“Are you drunk?” He asks with that sneaky smirk on his face.

“No.” You lie.

“Is that One Direction?” his voice squeaks at the last word andhis laughter fills the hallway. “What are you doing over here petal?”

Petal. He’d given you that name because you had a habit ofwearing flowers in your head no matter the occasions and if it wasn’t in yourhair it was all over your dress. “Why are you over here Mr. Martha Stewart?”

“You know there are some men chefs?”

“They are not better than her.” You step back in theapartment and Hvitserk joins you pushing the door closed behind him. “You want anamaretto?”

“Nope.” He looks at the empty bottle. “Not that there is anyfor me to have anyhow.” He makes his way over to the couch and you sit next tohim swinging your legs in his lap and laying back on the big beige pillow. “whyare you drunk?”

“There are so many reasons dear Hvit.” You touch his noseand watch him try to contain his laughter as you spider crawl your hands downyour chest.

“You’re adorable when you’re like this you know? Remember whenwe went to my parents and you didn’t realize you were drinking alcohol and by thetime you did… you were three sheets to the wind?”

“You kept handing them to me damn it.”

“You kept chugging them down, I thought you were nervous.”His smile and slanted eyes warm your heart. “I can still hear my mom now, thisis who you chose to be with, she’s drunker than your uncle. But there is not achance in hell you could ever be drunk like Rollo. I don’t think he’s eversober.” Hvitserk takes your hand. “I haven’t been ignoring you on purpose… youknow this right?”

“Then why have you been ignoring me?”

“Because I had to do seven days straight in a restaurant undera chef.”

You sigh not wanting to hear about the damn culinary programfor once. “Hvitserk, all you talk about is food and eating. You’re going toturn into a plate of food in a few and I can’t even say that I will miss you.”You close your eyes noticing his hand make their way up to your waist. Histhick fingers grip your legs and you sit up. “you’ve neglected me.”

“All you do is whine.” He teased.

“I’m just trying to make sure you understand the truth here,Hvitserk.” You find yourself facing him.

“Lie to me then.” He whispers.

“I would never.” You say dramatically. “but I hope you don’t expect to come over here and just finesse yourself into my good graces.”

“I’m sure something can be done.” He says with a smile.

“Nothing can be done, try me.” You chide.

Hvitserk pecks you on the lips and one kiss turns intoseveral and you melt into him. He can taste the sweetness of the remnants ofthe alcohol and he sucks your bottom lip for a second dragging his teeth acrossis as he allows you to go. “Is the rest of you this sweet? He murmurs, and youfeel him adjust himself so that he is laying back on the lounge of thesectional. You’re still straddling him, and he tugs on your pants. “Lose them.”He says waiting on you to strip.

You do as he instructs and toss the pants in the corner andthen you turn your head eagerly waiting for him to tell you what to do next.Hvitserk grins at you. “Take a seat.” He whispers pulling you over him. Headjusts you in front of his face and lowers you down on him. The cold stream ofair jolts you up but he secures you wrapping his arms around your thighs and flickinghis tongue at your clit then dipping into you. You instinctively throw yourhead back gripping the sectional for support as his quick thrust and licksdrive you insane. Your moans ag him on and releases one of your legs sliding afinger into you and then two, then third stretching you for the perfect burn.Lust consumes you and you find your hips winding in a slow circle as he sucksand nips and laps your juices up. Tiny explosions trigger through out your bodyand you feel your heart beating faster and faster. You try to lift yourself upand he grips you back to him going faster in a perfect combination that fucksyou tired. Your body tenses and then instantaneously you feel it explode. Yourlegs shake, toes curl until they dan near cramp and you feel him smile againstyour teeth.

“Are you still angry?” he asks lifting you and tossing youplayfully to the couch. He pushes your legs apart positioning himself betweenthem.

“No.” You breathe and all the stresses that had you wantingto drink were gone. You were nearly spent breathing hard in search for my oxygen.Hvitserk tosses his shirt to the ground and you smile. “What are you doing?”

“Oh that was just a taste test.” He grins. “I’m ready forthe whole meal now…”

“I never stood a chance did I?” You beam at him.

Hvitserk thrusts into you rocking you up the couch. “Nope.” He whispers.

Tagging a few: @ivarsshieldmadien @equalstrashflavoredtrash @whenimaunicorn@akamaiden @siren-queen03 @titty-teetee @sparklemichele @greennightspider @tomarisela @scumyeol @raindrop-dewdrop @naaladareia @vikingsmania @readsalot73 @oddsnendsfanfics @amour-quinn @wheredidallthedreamersgo @unsure-but-trying @leaderradiante @microsmacrosandneedles @valynsia

#Hvitserk #hvitserk x reader #hvitty #modern!hvitserk #vikings prompt #vikings #woc fanfic

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elleberquist6 · 6 years

Text

Play Upon Me Like This Piano - chapter thirty-eight

Summary: In many ways, Phil’s life is perfect: he loves his life in London, he has a wonderful brother and parents, and he has a great job as a radio DJ for BBC Radio One. There’s only one thing missing in his life… A rumor reaches an executive at the BBC about a talented local piano player named Daniel. The executive decides that Daniel would be the perfect guest on Phil’s radio show, so she sends Phil to speak with the evasive and mysterious piano player.

When they finally meet, Phil starts to think that he has found the person who will make his life complete. Unfortunately, Dan has a secret that will make getting close to him difficult.

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 2017

Warnings: Smut

—

1797: William Munro, a schoolteacher in Scotland, writes a letter to a Dr. Torrance in Glasgow, which is published in The Times of London on Sept. 8, 1809: About twelve years ago when I was… walking on the shore of Sandside Bay, when my attention was arrested by the appearance of a figure resembling an unclothed human female, sitting upon a rock extending into the sea… The resemblance which the figure bore to its prototype in all its visible parts was so striking, that had not the rock on which it was sitting been dangerous for bathing, I would have been constrained to have regarded it as really a human form… I had a distinct view of its features, being at no great distance on an eminence above the rock on which it was sitting, and the sun brightly shining. It remained on the rock three or four minutes after I observed it, and was exercised during that period in combing its hair, which was long and thick, and then dropped into the sea from whence it did not reappear to me. [https://www.theepochtimes.com/mermaid-hoax-columbus-shakespeare-and-pliny-the-elder-say-mermaids-are-real_82540.html/]

As Phil led Dan down the corridor by his webbed hand, Dan asked him, “What were you doing in that garden? Before you saw me by the fountain you looked like you were looking for something.”

“I was,” Phil said with a smile as he glanced over his shoulder. “I was looking for you.”

“Why were you…” Dan didn’t finish his question, getting distracted as Phil led him into a room and shut the door behind them. Dan looked around the small space, seeing a mirror, an odd collection of mismatched chairs, and a table that held an open laptop, a coffee cup, and scattered papers. He said, “Someone is using this room for something. We shouldn’t be in here.

"It’s okay,” Phil said, walking over and shutting his laptop. “This is my stuff. I’m using this room. The BBC gave it to me for conducting interviews.” Phil frowned as he sat down and tapped a paper on the table. “Your name is on the list of people I’m supposed to interview. That’s why I went looking for you.”

“Oh,” Dan said as he sat in the chair across the table from Phil. He glanced at the paper that Phil was still touching. “So, this is about work? That’s why you wanted to talk to me?”

“No,” Phil gave a short laugh as he pushed the paper away from him. “I went looking for you because I was surprised to learn that you were here. And… and now that you are, I want to talk to you about things. Not work-related things. I just really want to talk to you.”

“Oh… I thought you didn’t want anything to do with me anymore.” Dan bit his bottom lip. His eyes fixed on a corner of the room where cardboard boxes were stacked – ‘Christmas decorations’ was scrawled on the side of the box.

“I didn’t say that.” Phil’s smile fell as he realized how hurt Dan had been by this situation. It shouldn’t be a surprise by now – Phil knew that whenever they were apart, they were both miserable. He said, “I just said that I wanted to think.”

Dan’s eyes flicked to his face. “And what did you think about?”

“Not much,” Phil said with a sigh. “All I kept thinking about were the worst possible answers to the questions I had about you and me and us. And, well, dwelling on that wasn’t doing me much good. I needed to hear these things from you. So, when I saw that you were here and I was supposed to talk to you today, I knew that I had to come find you right away.”

Dan blinked. “What did you want to ask me?”

Phil took a steadying breath, still feeling unsure. He knew that he needed this answer – he was just unsure if he wanted it or not. Hesitantly, he asked, “How many times have you hypnotized me since we met?”

Dan also took a deep breath before answering. “Just a couple times. I almost exclusively use my voice on the stage, so whenever you’ve heard me sing, I’ve hypnotized you. I think that’s one time?”

“Twice,” Phil corrected. “I heard you sing once before I came up and introduced myself. Any other time?”

Dan looked at the corner again as he said, “One other time. After the first night we slept together. I used my voice on you that morning.”

Phil nodded since he had figured that part out already – if Dan hadn’t been honest about that, he would have walked away from this room and never looked back. For now, Dan seemed to be transparent, but just to be sure, Phil watched Dan carefully for signs of deceit as he asked, “That’s it? Those are the only times you used your siren voice on me?”

Dan looked up and met his eyes with an unwavering gaze. “Yes, I promise. Those are the only times.”

Phil’s shoulders relaxed. “So, everything after that has been real… But Dan, I remember that morning. Things were going so well. Why did you use your voice on me?”

“Oh,” Dan’s cheeks got pink. “Well, I was nervous. I thought once you saw who I really was and talked to me that you wouldn’t want anything to do with me. I thought that all we would have was that one morning, and if that was all the time I got with you, I wanted it to seem perfect for both of us. And yes, Phil. Everything since then has been real.”

“Okay,” Phil said, letting out a steady breath. “I think this might all be okay.”

“What, really? You mean that… you and me? You don’t feel like our foundation was built on a lie?”

“I did think that at first, but the more I’ve thought about this it doesn’t bother me. What you can do with your voice is magical, and what I feel for you feels like magic, too. I’ve loved you since the day we met. I know that bothered you the last time I said that, which makes sense now, but love isn’t just one instance where you fall for someone – it’s something that grows and we’ve been through so much together since that first day.” He smiled to reassure Dan, who was shifting nervously in his chair. “I had never fallen for anyone before you. I’d been alone for so long that I didn’t think it was possible to find someone. I thought the fact that I had never fallen in love meant that there was something wrong with me.”

Dan frowned. “Of course nothing was wrong with you.”

His smile widened. “I know that now, thanks to you. You’re my first love. I fell for you, and now that I have, I don’t mind if the catalyst for all this was a song you sung. Either way, falling in love with you has been the most magical experience of my life.”

Dan sniffled, and it looked like it was taking a lot of effort to keep his composure. He whispered, “Me, too. This also feels like magic to me. I do love you. I wouldn’t lie about that.”

“I know, I love you, too.” Phil reached across the table and took Dan’s hand.

With his other hand, Dan had to swipe at the tears that were threatening to spill from his eyes. He sucked in a shuddering breath and said, “Phil, you’re far too nice to me. I never expected you to be okay with any of this.”

“I am,” Phil insisted, and then glanced at the clock on the wall. “Did you need to do anything to get ready for your turn on the stage? I don’t mean to be distracting you from that right now. We can talk later.” Dan just shook his head, so Phil asked, “So, what made you agree to perform today? I thought you weren’t interested in doing shows like this. You said ‘no’ when I asked you to do one.”

Dan shook his head. “I, um… don’t think I should explain this and why I’m here. It’s… this is just something I have to do.”

Phil gave Dan’s hand a squeeze. “Please, no more secrets. That’s all I ask of you. Just tell me everything.”

“Alright. Um…” Dan started slowly, “The night you were in the bar, a woman from the BBC, Gina Hans, was also there.”

Phil blinked in surprise. “My boss? What did she want? Oh! So, she invited you to perform here today?”

“She, um, didn’t give me much choice actually. She was kind of fanatical… terrifyingly so… But it wasn’t her fault! She had a bad reaction to my voice, and it made her act like that.” Dan squirmed in his chair as he waited for Phil’s response. “What are you saying?” Phil asked as he narrowed his eyes. “She forced you to be here today?”

Dan nodded as he bit his bottom lip. Finally, he looked up and met Phil’s gaze, his own eyes widened with fear.

After taking a steadying breath, Phil said, “Don’t worry, Love. I’m going to take care of this. You won’t have to perform today if you don’t want to. I don’t know what Gina was thinking, but I’ll get it sorted out.”

“No, you won’t.” Dan shook his head, looking saddened and unreassured. “She isn’t thinking clearly at all – I told you, she had a bad reaction to my voice. It’s making her act impulsive and dangerous, just like the man who tried to kidnap me. This happens sometimes, and nothing you say is going to change her mind. I just have to do this.”

The breath caught in Phil’s chest as he finally realized what this performance meant to Dan and why he only performed in small bars, and also why he had turned down the radio performance that Phil once offered him. “This is dangerous for you. The more exposure you get, the more opportunity there is for a potentially violent person to hear you. And this concert is huge. Someone could kill you… Dan, you can’t do this.”

“I have to.” Dan glanced at the door, like he was contemplating leaving.

“No! This is insane. Why would you agree to this? What could Gina have possibly threatened you with that could be worse?”

“She didn’t threaten me.” He turned back to Phil with a sad smile on his face. “She threatened you. Specifically, she threatened your job.”

Phil felt a lump form in his throat, and he had to force the words past it, “Me… You agreed to do this to help me? And right after I left you at the bar like that? Why would you do that?”

Dan shrugged. “I love you, and I know how much your job means to you. I couldn’t cost you your job, not after everything I had already put you through.” He waved his hand when Phil tried to interrupt. “And I’m still doing this. You can’t talk me out of this. I’m going to perform today to save your job. I’ve already decided.”

“You’re crazy.” Phil sighed.

Dan shrugged again. “I prefer to attribute it to stubbornness.”

“You have to be on stage soon?” Phil asked, and Dan nodded in response. Phil stared at the door, calculating how much time he had to fix this. How likely was it that he could find Gina in time to talk to her about this? Would she be reasonable? Would she come with him to talk to Dan and free him of his obligation to perform? None of that sounded very likely, under this deadline… And then Phil thought of something.

Dan noticed the odd grin on his face. Warily, he asked, “What is it?”

“You told Gina you would sing, right? That’s all? You just have to get on the stage to fulfill this agreement?”

“Yes…?” Dan said slowly, obviously not understanding. Phil’s grin widened. “I have an idea.”

#phandom #phanfiction #phanfic #dan and phil #dan x phil #siren #merman #mermaid

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dreamingofthedeepbluesea · 7 years

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Trollhunters: True Lies

Chapter One: Buzz Kill

For the first time in a long while, Strickler felt old. There were more gray strands in his hair and some of his past injuries ached more with each coming winter. Old memories haunted his dreams at night but he still found the courage to move forward. After all, the Changeling had finally found a place where he belonged. He had fought in the war, he had survived Gunmar’s wrath, and somehow, he had found his place in this world. Instead of looking constantly looking over his shoulder, Strickler felt safe and confident in his allies. It certainly had been a positive change in his life.

“Time has sure steadily flown by, hasn’t it, Strickler?” Blinky asked as he offered a drink to the changeling. “Master Jim has grown into a fine young man. Clarie is a lovely lady, by human standards, of course. Tobias is…” He glanced to see the Toby attempting to help Claire hang a congratulations banner, nearly falling off the ladder in the process. Jim quickly steadied his friend and scolded Toby, telling him to be careful. While Tobias had shed a tiny bit of weight and gained some battle skills, there were still that clumsiness factor and love of spicy tacos. “… still Tobias.”

Troll Market was throwing a huge graduation party for Jim. Strickler helped where he could, including saving Jim’s cake from being a complete disaster. Try as she might, his mother had the best of intentions but could not cook. At least Barbara did decently at icing the cake and decorating it with candles. There were banners hanging from every vendor station declaring celebration. Barrels of mead were in every corner as were food stations, both human and troll dishes. There were some soda pop drinks from the surface, a fizzing liquid that made Argh’s nose sting. None of the trolls seemed to enjoy it but a few changelings did. The invitation extended to his friends and family. Supposedly, there was a surprise gift from Blinky. Yet, he would not tell anyone what it was to avoid spoilers for Jim.

“Indeed, it is strange to think that young Atlas is getting ready to leave high school and then go to college.” Strickler recalled writing the letter of recommendation for James. He wanted to stay in Arcadia to be close to his family and friends. His grades were high enough to apply anywhere he wished and acceptance was almost a sure guarantee. Despite a lot of objection, he applied to the local university to study, oddly enough, history. James had developed a love for mythology and legends over the years of being the Trollhunter. With a sigh, the Changeling took the mug from Blinky. “It seems just a few short years ago, we were trying to best each other in the dining room.”

“You still try to best each other in Barbara’s dining room.”

“Barbara asked Jim to take out the trash and he picked me up over his shoulder.”

“I recall that incident, we laughed about it for weeks.” Blinky admitted honestly with a small snicker. “Actually, we’re still laughing about it.”

“Good one.” Argh chuckled as he brought over a tray of used socks, soap bars, and broken vinyl records to share. “Laughed and laughed.”

“Well, I’m glad that you two obtained some amusement at my expense.” Strickler rolled his eyes and shooed away the plate full of distasteful goodies. He did not eat disgusting trash like trolls. Maybe the occasional pencil accidently had an eraser top chewed off the top due to not paying attention. It was part of the occupation, he supposed. “Younglings are so rude nowadays, thinking everything is a joke.”

“You just mad cause Jim taller.” Argh munched on one of the soap bars. “Taller than you.”

“Do they have any real food at this graduation party?” Strickler scowled at the brute, instantly wanting to change the subject. He would never admit it, though it did secretly bother him. Young Atlas had sprout up like a weed, surpassing him in height by a few inches. “Something that isn’t socks or garbage?”

“Yes, there’s lots of human food set out over there next to the fizzing lime liquid that Tobias loves to consume.” Blinky pointed in the direction of the table. “We’re waiting until Jim’s surprise gets here.”

“And exactly what is this surprise?”

“It’s for everyone, not just Jim.”

“You’ve been secretive about this for nearly a whole month.”

“I contacted many old friends to pull this off and I won’t have anyone spoiling it.”

“No surprise if know.” Argh reminded Strickler with a grin. “Excited!”

“And exactly when is this surprise supposed to arrive?” Strickler was beginning to think Blinky ordered a box full of cats for Jim. “Gift wrapped, I presume?”

“Stop pestering Blinky, Walter.” Barbara walked up behind the changeling, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. Placing a kiss on his cheek, Doctor Lake knew her husband hated not having all the facts. She guessed that was part of being a history teacher. “You’ll find out soon enough what it is.”

“And what if it is a stripper inside of a cake?” Strickler asked his wife. “What will you do then?”

“What’s a stripper?” Argh swallowed another sock.

“If I remember correctly, it’s a human male or female who takes off their clothing for money usually while dancing around a pole.” Blinky quoted the statement from memory, earning a look from Barbara. He could not understand why Jim’s mother seemed a bit irked from his words. It was only the truth he spoke! “… that’s what it said in that human dicks-ton-airy.”

“That’s not the surprise, is it?” Barbara questioned in an accusatory tone.

“No!” Blinky replied very quickly, all four hands raised up in defense. “Most certainly not!”

“Hey, book brain!” NotEnrique jumped onto the bar, knocking over Blinky’s beverage. “You better go get things ready! The special package has arrived!”

“You could have announced that without jumping up on the counter and spilling my drink.” Blinky grumbled as he used a cloth to wipe up the mess. “But then again, that’s what you do, you create messes.”

Since Blinky and Argh had their attention on NotEnrique, Barbara took this as her chance to steal Strickler away from the party. Between work at the hospital and helping Blinky set up the party, she barely had time for her husband this week. Sometimes, a woman required quality time with her lover. Standing on her tip toes, she whispered into his ear.

“No one is in Blinky’s library.” Barbara murmured in a suggestive tone. “What do you say we do some research on the reproductive system?”

Perking up at the offer of pleasure, Walter smirked from ear to ear.

“I believe the Kama Sutra has some excellent references to offer.”

Blinky gathered everyone in the middle of Troll Market. He decided to leave Walter and Barbara to their odd human mating customs. If he interrupted them, it would surely cause unwanted embarrassment on both ends. He only hoped his table would survive all that rocking. So, he returned his focus to the gathering. After expressing how proud he was of Jim, he then explained he called in a favor from an old friend. When Blinky pulled back the curtains for Jim’s grand surprise, it was a gift he never anticipated. There was stereo equipment hooked up to a DJ system. It was the latest, top of the line products to produce music. At first, Jim and his friends exchanged confused glances. All three of them enjoyed music, but Jim never expressed interest in becoming a DJ.

“Yoohoo, little ones, up here.”

Everyone looked upward to the source of the voice. On top of the tallest stereo, there sat the esteemed guest of honor with her legs crossed. Multiple braids dangled from her curly locks and she had a smile that lit up the cavern. Waving at the graduates, she could not help but giggle at their shocked faces. She was a tall woman dressed in flashy clothing and wore expensive designer boots. From her overall reaction, she had seen trolls before and was not alarmed. The lady seemed quite comfortable in Troll Market.

“That’s… that’s…” Tobias stammered, his brain unable to process proper wording. “That’s…”

“The Siren!!!” Clarie squealed at the top of her lungs in absolute glee, causing some other trolls to wince. Even a few of the gnomes groaned their displeasure at the noise. Humans could be so loud and annoying. “Jim, you seriously like have the best mentor ever!!!”

“I know!”

“How in the name of the Heartstone was he able to pull this off?!” Tobias grabbed Jim by the shoulders and shook him. “That’s Loralei Abrielle! Her entire tour is sold out! There’s like no way to get tickets or backstage passes! How did he get her to come here?! Or allowed inside of Troll Market for that matter?!”

“I guess Blinky has connections we didn’t know about.”

“Forget that, we get a private concert!”

“From only the most famous, greatest, totally awesome techno, raving, music star in the whole country!!!” Tobias had to take a breath at the end of his excited rambling. “And she’s here! I can ask for an autograph!”

“Maybe she’ll sign my tour shirt!” Claire exclaimed as she pulled out several sharpie pens from her back pocket. Lately, the girl had developed a habit of collecting all the colors of sharpies like it was a hobby. Bright neon shades and pastels were her favorites. She doodled on every notebook page and blank surface she could find. Strickler had scolded her for drawing a rather crude drawing of him breathing fire on her desk. The rest of the class found it hilarious. “And I can get a selfie!”

“Think she’ll do a group photo?” Jim held up his phone and turned on the camera. “How do you set the timer on this thing again?”

“Don’t you think you should enjoy the music first?” Loralei asked them with a chuckle. “I came all the way from Malibu Beach to play for you.”

“Can I go back to Malibu Beach with you?”

Jim nudged Toby in the ribs for that statement.

“Heh, I appreciate your enthusiasm.” Loralei shook her head lightly with an amused grin. “But I think you’re a little too young for me.”

“She’s talking to me.” Toby nearly swooned and presented his most charming smile. “And you can’t be too much older than me, you’re what? Twenty-three, twenty-four? I can handle an older woman.”

“You have a girlfriend.” Claire reminded Toby with a cross of her arms. “Remember? Her name is Darci? Ringing a bell there?”

“Tobs, seriously, not cool.” Jim ran a hand down the front of his face.

“I’m actually a few thousand years old.” Loralei held up her fingers and counted in silence. “I forget my exact age, little one. After you live for so long, it becomes rather pointless to try to keep track of the years.”

Toby choked on his drink.

“Wh-What?!”

Scooting off the edge of the stereo, Loralei landed on her feet. The trolls would not allow any random human inside of their home. She supposed it was acceptable for these three kids to know the real her. With a blue flash, she transformed into her true appearance. The widely adored musician was a changeling. The musician had turquoise skin with dark blue streaks here and there. Black claws adorned her hands and feet, even blacker curved horns, standing proudly from her head. Strangely, Loralei’s eyes in this form had black sclera and glowing turquoise slit. It reminded Jim all too much of Gunmar, a slight chill going down his spine. Who exactly was this changeling? He could not look too suspicious. Questions could come later, seeing she posed no threat.

Toby’s jaw dropped, Jim stood there stunned, and Claire poked both boys in the chest with a triumphant yell.

“I told you, I told you and you two didn’t listen!” Claire held out her hand. “Pay up, I win the bet.”

“You predicted that she was a magical creature, you didn’t specifically say a changeling!” Toby protested with a pout. Jim swore there was no way a changeling could be that popular and hide among humans. Evidently, even a changeling could be a celebrity. “For all I know, you could have been calling her a unicorn!”

“Magical creatures include changelings, I win, you lose.”

“Urgh, fine.”

“That means you buy dinner at somewhere other than Tito’s Tacos.”

“But Tito’s Tacos is so tasty!”

“You can live off tacos, but Jim and I can’t.”

“Darci likes Tito’s Tacos.”

“Darci likes you, she tolerates your love of tacos.”

“Okay, let’s just come to a compromise and go to Amor’s and get pizza.” Jim interjected in the argument. “Then the girls will be happy.”

“And garlic bread.”

“Seriously, Tobs? That stuff reeks on you for weeks.”

“If I’m paying, I’m getting the garlic bread.”

“Girls like it if you shower them with delicious food, little one.” Loralei loved the banter between friends. “If you buy her food, she will feel obligated to eat it and not feel guilty about it later.”

“Really?”

“Why do you think the females wanted the best hunter as a mate?”

“Because… they got more food?”

“Exactly.”

“What do you know?” Toby shrugged. “Learn something new every day.”

“Now, little ones… what song would you like me to play first for you?”

“It’s Jim’s party, so he should pick first. Though, if I guess right, he’s going to pick ‘Take Off to the Stars’ cause that’s his favorite song.” Claire informed Loralei with a delighted clap of her hands. She was doing her best to remain casual in front of her idol, but it was hard. How could someone be so torn between wanting to scream from joy or embrace someone as tightly as possible and never let go? “Then me, the Toby, then uh… I don’t suppose your mom likes her music?”

“Mom likes Elvis, Sinatra, Darin, and Manilow.” Jim told his girlfriend. “She’s not too big on this type of music.”

“Only one question left, Jim.” Loralei put on the headphones and flipped on the power. “Original or remix?”

“I think we have officially disgraced Blinky’s library.”

“And sock pantry.”

“Don’t forget the potion closet.”

“Hrm, well, what should we disgrace next?” Barbara purred as she ran a single finger down Walter’s chest. Maybe menopause was making her more so feisty. It seemed lately that she could not keep her hands off her husband. The last time she acted like this was when she was pregnant with Jim. It was probably just the cascade of hormones. “I would like to nominate… the corner of bean bag cushions.”

Strickler gave a mock gasp.

“Scandalous.”

“You’re the one who suggested Blinky’s beloved desk.”

“Hrm, the book brain had it coming when he called me an old timer.” Strickler huffed as he pulled Barbara closer, nuzzling her hair. The scent of lavender and coconut oil lingered from her shampoo. Her hairstyle was out of place now from all the wild movement. He ran his fingers through her reddish locks and she tended to pull on his horns during love making. Such a sharp tug always aroused him. However, Strickler’s favorite thing that Barbara did was a simple act of when she traced his markings after the deed. He had gotten used to the affectionate gesture and a purr rumbled lowly in his chest. Now, the changeling craved her tender touches. Strickler expected harsh words and striking blows. Cruelty was all he ever received from Gunmar or Bular. His wife, his sweet wife, helped him heal in ways he never expected. “Saying I was getting paler and grayer with age.”

“You are an old timer.”

“Hey!”

“I’m teasing, honey.” Barbara laughed at his sulking. “You can still keep up with me and I’m almost in my forties.”

“And your Krav Maga, your horrible cooking, and your insatiable appetite in bed, my love.” Walter nipped at her ear as he rubbed his left horn. “I must say, I thought you were going to pull out one of my horns this time.”

“Sorry.” Barbara apologized sheepishly with flustered cheeks. “I didn’t mean to pull so hard, I just… well…”

“Trying to urge me on, are you, temptress?” Walter ran his teeth down her throat with a playful growl. “Faster?” His hand slid up her side, inching closer to her breasts. “Harder?” He pinched her nipples, earning a jolt from Barbara. “Deeper?”

“Walter!” Barbara squirmed in his grasp, laughing. “What are you doing?!”

“I am expertly obtaining my answer.” Watler buried his face in the nook of her throat. “Will my lady tell me or will we have to find the answer after round two?”

“Fine!” Barbara scoffed as she poked his nose. If the two of them had a second bout of intercourse, they would both miss Jim’s surprise. She knew that her son liked to focus more on his friends and love interest since he was older. Still, she would like to at least see him open his graduation cards and cut the cake. That was more of a birthday tradition, not really a graduating one, but she would always treasure, especially seeing such a smile on his face. “Yes, I was horny because we haven’t had sex in over a week, happy now?”

“Yes.”

Music started playing from above in the market. The beats echoed down to the library as did the cheers of the participants. Both Walter and Barbara perked up at the noise. It seemed the party had started without them. Blinky revealed the surprise without their presence, so Walter expected that the nerd smelled the two of them mating. Or maybe it was Draal, he had a bad habit of showing up out of the blue. Nomura was not kind enough to keep her mouth shut, she would have said something to embarrass him. Then again, he had not seen Draal or Nomura. Maybe the two of them were patrolling the tunnels for wanted Gumm-Gumms. Someone detected their act of mating and decided not to interrupt them. Of course, he would keep this little detail from Barbara to spare her any mortification. Trolls and Changelings had sensitive noses, so it was not surprising to him that someone would find out eventually about their sexual activities in various areas of Blinky’s home.

“Damn, we missed it.”

“Language, Lady Lake.”

“I’ll fucking swear if I want to swear, thank you very much.”

“Spirited, aren’t you?”

Barbara shoved at his shoulder, before arriving at a conclusion.

“We missed the surprise, so while they’re enjoying the music, we could go for round two before presents and cake.”

“Depends on how hard you pull on my horns.”

“Oh, shut it.”

“Best. Party. Ever!” Toby was sweating profusely from all the dancing. Having the time of his life really turned out to be an excellent workout. Burning calories during a graduation party was the best way to stay in shape. He started to chug down a bottle of water to rehydrate. “You know, if her songs were on that game called ‘Dance Just to Dance’, I could totally nail all those arrows and be king of groovy.”

“You do have the moves, Tobs.” Jim spun Claire around and then dipped her. “Darci has really rubbed off on you.”

“Darci took ballet, tap, and even ball room dancing.” Toby sighed dreamily, thinking of his perfect girl. “And she can twerk like—”

“T.P.! Seriously don’t need to know that.” Claire stopped her friend before he went into a ramble about Darci’s perfect backside. She already heard Toby go on and on about Darci’s bubble butt and did not care to hear it again. Puffing a strand of hair out of her face, Claire then signaled that she needed a break from dancing to Jim. “Let’s go and get some food, yeah? I’m starving and that barbeque looks amazing.”

“Hey, Miss Abrielle?” Jim asked the musician, gesturing to the table of cooked food. “You want to join us for some grub?”

“Call me Loralei. I’d be honored to feast with the legendary Trollhunter.” Loralei left a personalized playlist running on the computer. Claire had taken the initiative of uploading a playlist of all Jim’s favorite songs to a flash drive and had it in her backpack. Dialing the volume to low so people could converse, the artist walked up to young graduates. “When Blinky contacted me, and told me who you were, I figured the least I could do was play my music for you.”

“Hey, being the Trollhunter is a privilege.” Jim was modest about his position. Since maturing, he had less bravado and was becoming more of a humble man. There were a few times when overcoming a new challenge that the streak of invincibility returned. “It’s given more than it’s taken. I’ve made a lot of new friends, seen new worlds, learned magic, how to fight, and I kept evil at bay. The adventure is still continuing.”

“Life is an adventure and yours will be fruitful.” Loralei agreed as Jim offered her a drink an empty plate so she could select what she wanted. “It is nice to be back in Troll Market after being gone for so long. There’s many familiar faces.” She looked at her surroundings, taking in the beauty of the glowing stones and listening to the chatter. “I would like to greet your mother as well. Is she here?”

“Yeah, she’s… let’s see.” Jim peered through the crowd. The trolls blocked most of his view. He finally spotted his mother preparing the candles on the cake. Pointing across the way, the Trollhunter gestured to his mom. “Oh! There she is! Her name is Barbara. She’s right beside of Strickler. See the dude dressed in the suit?”

“… Strickler?” Loralei set down her plate and drink rather hard on the table. Her voice sounded urgent. She wanted clarification. “As in Walter Strickler?”

“Yeah, changeling, greenish avocado color, throws knives around like they’re going out of style?” Toby filled his plate to the top with barbeque chicken, baked beans, slaw, and a sizable piece of cornbread. His love of food still lingered and he still ate like it was his last meal. Wriggling his fingers, he gazed at the plate full of chocolate browns as it were gold. “Talks like he’s from last century? That’s him all right.”

“Excuse me, little ones, I’ll be right back after I kill him.”

Dumbfounded, Jim, Claire, and Toby watched Loralei tromp in Strickler’s direction. Toby was chewing a mouthful of food and froze. Jim was holding up a potato chip to his mouth and stopped halfway. Claire was quite certain her idol could not be capable of murder until now. The look in Loralei’s eyes said it all. However, she did notice that Jim was not chasing after the music star. No one moved until Claire spoke.

“Guys?”

“Yeah, Claire?”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but, didn’t she just say she was going to kill Strickler?”

“Oh, you heard it too? Thought I accidently got cornbread in my ear or something.”

“Don’t you think you better stop her?”

“You think I’d be able to catch a break at my own graduation party.”

“Just go diffuse the situation before it starts.”

“Too late.” Toby noticed Loralei right in front of Strickler. “She’s got him.”

“You!!!”

The chatter instantly died and all eyes were on the musician. Loralei’s voice was so full of hatred, it gave Jim pause. Something told the Trollhunter that Strickler’s past was coming back to get him. Before Strickler could even react, she grabbed him by the throat and pinned him against the wall. Argh pulled Barbara out of the way, not wanting her caught up in the scuffle. The stone crackled from her brute force and Strickler yelled from the crushing blow. It dazed him so badly, his vision blurred for a moment. He was not prepared for a fight. As soon as he could see clearly, Strickler gasped at the face in front of him.

“What are you doing?!” Barbara shrieked, trying to wriggle out of Argh’s grasp.

“Murderer!!!” Loralei spat in his face, her eyes seething in rage. She pushed Strickler even further into the rock, causing the cracks to spread. He grimaced and grasped her wrists, trying to push her off him. “I should have killed you right after Gunmar ripped out your wings, you coward! They’re all dead because of you!!!”

“Loralei, let him go!”

Jim grabbed her shoulder and was immediately shoved backward by the angry changeling. He fell over a table, knocking the contents to the floor and bonking his head on the wall. Claire rushed over to Jim to make sure he was all right. The changeling did not even glance over her shoulder at him. Her sole focus was on Strickler. A piercing growl rumbled forth from her. With teeth bared, Loralei was expecting a fight. She wanted to fight, she had that need for bloodlust. More importantly, his mother cared for his exasperating teacher so much, she married him. He did not have an excuse for letting him die so easily. Tolerating Strickler was easier said than done. First, he moved into the house, then he started the cooking competition to see who was the better chef, and finally, Strickler then asked his mother to marry him.

“Stay out of this, Trollhunter.” Loralei snapped at Jim. “This is between me and this foul fiend.”

“You let go of my husband before I rip off those horns of yours!” Barbara shouted as she tried to get free. “Put me down!”

“Husband?” Loralei sneered at Walter. “You? That’s laughable.”

“That’s what I initially thought at first, but he’s been good to my mom!” Jim protested, wanting to avoid a duel his favorite musician. “Mostly good, if you minus that Angor Rot incident that shall not be named but… more so annoying.”

“James Lake Junior!” Barbara started to scold him but Blinky entered the conversation.

“Loralei! Whatever are you doing?!” Blinky exclaimed with two hands motioning to her hand on Stricker’s throat and the others on his face under his eyes. “This is a party, not a battlefield!”

“Blinkous, why is this murderer here?” Loralei still held Strickler against the wall, never breaking eye contact. “Does he really have you all fooled? You know he worked for Gunmar! He should be killed!”

“He helped us defeat Gunmar!” Claire came to Strickler’s defense. “He used to be evil, but he righted his wrongs!”

“Not all of his wrongs.” Loralei squeezed tighter around Strickler’s neck, causing him to choke.

“Just let him go and we’ll talk in a civilized fashion. We’re all adults here, right?” Toby even tried to present his two cents. “So, let’s just sit down, have a nice cup of joe, and discuss this.”

“Lo… r… lei!” Strickler managed to say between gasps for air. His lungs were burning, screaming for air. Flashing green, he managed to kick Loralei back, causing her to stumble. He coughed, the oxygen rushing to his lungs. Pulling the knives from his collar, Strickler felt uneasy. “I… I didn’t know Gunmar was going to slaughter them! I didn’t even know you were still alive!”

“Lies!” Loralei hissed as she sharpened her claws on the stone ground. “You saved your sorry ass and left us all for dead!”

Lunging at him, Loralei aimed for his throat. The entire market scurried out of harm’s way, wanting nothing to do with the fight. Dodging her sharp talons, Strickler ducked and then rolled to the side. With a grunt, he hurled one knife after the next at her, seven total. Each blade was for a specific weak point. One for each knee, one for each shoulder, one for each wrist and one for her stomach. Loralei flipped in midair, twisting and turning flexibly so she caught each dagger between her fingers. Strickler’s confident expression instantly fell, knowing that his advantage of having a weapon just ended.

“Forget who taught you?” Loralei scoffed, twirling a single blade around a finger. Wisdom usually came with age, but it seemed Strickler was senile. Maybe he thought he was seeing a ghost. Perhaps she should remind him she was here, alive and well. “You stupid boy!”

One by one, she started slinging the blades back at him. Strickler managed to block the first three by grabbing a nearby tray. The knives dug into the wood. The fourth grazed his thigh and the fifth dug into his shoulder. His shoulders were his weak points. Strickler grimaced loudly and tried to pull it out from his stone skin. The remaining two blades, Loralei held in each hand. The green changeling swiped at her. Avoiding his claws, she slammed one dagger into his arm, causing Strickler to yell. Twisting his arm behind his back, Loralei had the final blade at his throat. He froze in place, not daring to move a muscle.

“Loralei, I swear I—”

“All I want to hear from your mouth is a scream!”

Before the final blow was dealt, Draal appeared and snatched Loralei from behind. His arms held her tightly so she could not get loose. She screeched in fury, kicking her legs wildly, spouting curses. Nomura helped Strickler to his feet. Reaching to pull out both knives, the pottery fanatic earned a strident objection from Strickler to leave it alone. His wife was a doctor and she could attend to the wounds.

“Should I put her in the cell?” Draal asked and Loralei aimed carefully, throwing her leg back to hit the troll in his weak point. Instantly dropping to his knees, he held in-between his legs. He exhaled forcefully. “That was… a dirty move.”

“No fight.” Argh told Loralei firmly, keeping her from her objective. “Talk.”

“Strickler, Loralei… I think there is indeed a tidbit of explaining to do.” Blinky looked at the pair, crossing both pair of arms. “You have made quite a spectacle of Master Jim’s festivities.”

“See? Like I said, sit down, have a cup of joe, civilized conversation.” Toby repeated his same phase from earlier. “If they would have listened to me, this wouldn’t have resulted in a fight. I know things, you know.”

~~~

Thank you for reading!

Likes are sweet, reblogs are awesome, but getting feedback is the best!

Chapter 2: Coming soon!

#walter strickler #stricklake #barbara lake #james lake junior #toby domzalski #claire nuñez #notenrique #argh #blinky #nomura #draal #changeling #trolls #troll market #graduation party #older characters #fanfiction #trollhunters #for the glory of fandom

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taeguboi · 7 years

Text

badboy!BTS Headcanons

Request: ‘idk what this thought is but i think you might be able to do somethin with it and i thought of you when you reblogged some stuff tonight: what would bts be like if they weren't in bts and were bad boys? i was just thinking about what they might have done but then i also thought about how good jin would look in a leather jacket and fucking up people's heads like he's a bastard but he's handsomr so it's okay kekeke’

Notes at the end

Rap Monster: bad boy for justice

An afterschool bad boy

keeps to himself at school / work

but as soon as he leaves that building, it’s different:

fag in mouth, shirt loosened up for comfort

and he’s eyeing up any attractive girl that passes by

A gentleman to the ladies

Will drop kick the jerks that break their hearts

Has a surprisingly high set of morals

it just gets overlooked because of his bad boy aura and here’s why

Had his fair share of arrests

but to be fair to him, it’s mostly for a good cause

like he was the one that got provoked in a fight

or that thing he stole was actually something he was getting back for someone

Basically won’t hate you if you’re cool with him though

“Hey, if anyone’s troubling you, don’t hesitate to call me, yeah?”

Brings back a lot of girls to his shared house

everyone thinks he’s a player

“ey up ‘Joon; who’s she this week?”

but it just genuinely doesn’t work out each time

they get put off by his tendency to fight

Until he meets this one girl

she’s feisty and is just as verbal as he is passionate for justice / karma

They’re couple goals

and he proposes to her in a bar

but it’s their bar, it’s where they met and send like half their time together, so it’s romantic

She loves everything about him and rightly so

his passion, even if it may appear as unnecessary anger

his hard working demeanour despite his ‘common’ background

Yeah, he’s a bad boy, possibly only by appearance,

but he’s gonna build himself a good life

Jin: the classic rocker

Let’s begin with that leather jacket

It’s genuine vintage leather

he lets girls wear it in the cold on a night out

and it’s like so heavy but cosy?

Rocker

been to all the concerts

You invite him out to see some unknown local band for their first gig

but somehow he’s already seen them and knows their full set

but he’s also seen the legends in arenas

Can’t forget the festivals

can’t forget the free love and ‘happiness’

Owns all the pubs and clubs by social status

enters the room and it goes silent for a moment

who will say ‘hi’ to him first?

It’s tricky because he’s so fucking magnificent and overpowering

So how did he get to this status?

He knows how to talk

no one makes a fool of him

will put up with 0% of anyone’s shit

gives no fucks when it comes to conversation

Will fuck with your head if you cross him

knows how to wrap people around his little finger

and then can drop them just like that

Sometimes he’ll be extremely witty

but nowadays he can say the pettiest thing and it has the same effect

Pretty much everyone is in his debt somehow

“You need [x thing] doing? Yeah, I know a guy that can sort you out”

So social

but doesn’t even own a phone

he just goes out every night

Has his local bar

his regular clubs

in which he pulls every night

[in each club]

Very sensual

You’re one lucky girl if:

he takes you outside of the club to just talk to you

“You’ve been having a pretty good time in there, huh?”

“I bet you could have an even better time out here with me”

Will fuck anywhere, no matter who might see

and he’s never been arrested for it

because he has his way with words

he can even bribe the police, and nothing

Becomes a bit of a biker

almost forms / joins a gang

but is way too independent to stick to it

Kind of a loner bad boy

Suga: underground rapper

Underground rapper with all the swagger

He does it all

Booze

Cigarettes

at least the occasional sesh

Will fuck many people, boys and girls

and he can do it every night because groupies

but is secretly a sucker for pretty boys

But he knows his bad boy nature can get him what he wants

Bar fights

Gets hecklers at his gigs but he puts them in their place

will jump off the stage to fight you

His regular venue only own 2 beer glasses now

Could have the most supportive audience but will drive away into the night raising a middle finger

Can rock out any look

still looks hardcore that one time he performs in a dress

Barely dies his hair

Tries blonde once but does back to black

because the roots come through in like 2 weeks

and then he refers to that fortnight as ‘that time I almost sold out’

Acts as if he’s the most tortured soul

so you think you have some sort of connection

but fucks you and leaves you lmao

Has a ped

rides around randomly at night

drops off wherever he thinks he’ll get a good story from

write bad ass raps about his experiences

Gets wound up in quite some violent situations

it’s concerning how often he’s been at knifepoint

jumps on random cars

or hot wires then to dump in a lake

because why not

Agust D might never become a national household name

but it’s certainly a name known by everyone in town

J-Hope: wandering skater boy

Sporty bad boy

Footie with his lads

Skateboarding home

flying across busy roads

almost knocking over pedestrians

He’s been stopped by the police for it

but they escort him home and are shook

because his mum is a bad ass, probably worse

Doesn’t smoke

but beer is life

Drunken antics every night

Will do whatever to win a girl over

*leaves her name in massive letters outside her bedroom window*

“Holy shit Hoseok, how did you...”

*police siren*

*gets arrested for pulling down letters of shop signs*

Goes to shops and purchases wrappers

because he’s already eating the food before he’s payed

Graffiti artist

lives for that adrenaline rush

can outrun the cops every single time

because he can jump over everything, get through everything, etc

and can run for hours

Bit of a wanderer

by day, he’s out with his lads

by night, he roams free

He doesn’t need wingmen or clubs to pull

no; he has what it takes

to just approach that lonely girl sat on a bench contemplating life

and no matter how many times his parents insist he bring no one home

there’s always a way to sneak into his room

Sometimes he just roams for days

doesn’t tell anyone

comes back in 3 days with some badass tattoo and some mystery souvenirs

[souvenirs that he smokes in a day lmao]

[low key stoner hahahaha]

Jimin: ladies man aka the biggest flirt

His shirt is on/off like 50/50

Tastefully placed tattoos

that don’t hide too much of his body

simple writing down either side of his abs

[think 2014 mama awards I think]

and a tattoo on his butt that was done for the lols

but it’s a story, like

“I have the illuminati on my butt”

Tongue piercings

which you get to see when he’s flirting

he’ll stick it out sometimes when begin suggestive

House parties always

Like does he even have parents around?

Works every day so he can pay for both bills and booze

He does up cars or something

You can show up and he’s not even at his own house yet 100 other people are

But when he is there to host his own house party, well...

all the bedrooms are occupied

and it’s because he’s got a girl waiting for him in each room

what an exciting game, to see how many he can fuck

before one of them finds out they aren’t the only one

holy shit Jimin there’s 5 bedrooms here how do you even--

*slap!*

that was the sound of a girl’s discovery

he’s used to it though

I think his face has built up a tolerance for the slaps because they happen that often

so he’ll basically grab whoever’s booty he wants

Those beautiful plump lips

they weren’t just made for kissing and eating out though

they were designed for cigarettes

the way the smoke puffs out of his mouth is beautiful

low key erotic somehow?

Oh and the lip biting he does

paired with some smooth flirting

You’ll hear all the rumours about bad boy Jimin

and how you shouldn’t go near him

but you can’t help but give in to him and your curiosity

Honestly, it’s worth it; boy fucks damn well

Girls girls girls

He was that lad in school that the teachers hated

for distracting the female students and making them swoon

Has always been shameless

Like in younger school years it was winking

and outrageous confidence

but then in later high school years

you find him touching you under the table

but was still a prat

always in the head master’s office

or isolation

or suspended

But he still managed to stay in the same school

even after hitting on a teacher

Turns up to prom in his usual leather jacket and jeans

actually, he just turns up anywhere however and whenever he pleases

You just have to let it happen

he never causes any real harm

V: the punk activist

Gorgeous long hair

He’s had it in some bold colours

Fiery red becomes like his identity

the condition of his hair suggests a feminine nature but oh...

He’s anything but that!

His voice is extra gruff and deep

and he knows he can use it to his advantage

to get girls

and to threaten people

99% of the time gets what he wants

Spends a lot of money on piercings

he has all the ear piercings you can think of

snake bites lip piercings

an eyebrow piercing

he has other piercings that he don’t always make use of

and *ahem* some more intimate piercings

Has been known to turn you on

just by telling you about his ‘down there’ piercing

“wanna see?”

fuck me yes I do

and money on tattoos

almost everywhere

tattoos across his torso,

bad ass tattoo sleeves,

his back and up to his neck: still tattoos

and some of girl’s names to win them over

He doesn’t care how she doesn’t mean that much to him

as long as she’ll make a good story

Gets arrested at least once a month

Has some cheesy and heart-felt lines though beneath all that anger

Fucks so many girls but then realizes

he’s hella gay

“Damn, that’s a pretty boy”

Joyriding

but somehow he makes it romantic with another person

like he just parks he car in the middle of nowhere so you can enjoy the moonlight with him

So yeah, he’s poetic it turns out, but

Quite angry

like a Punk Oscar Wilde almost?

Vegan?

Can get political, very opinionated

Passionate for whatever cause he’s taken up this week

Graffiti to make statements

Forms a punk band to make statements

Smashes windows to make statements

but although he can get violent

he knows what he’s talking about and has solid views

Starts movements

Gets called a faggot once with his kinda serious boyfriend

suddenly he’s a huge activist in the lgbt community

Will get full on sexual in the middle of a shop

to prove a point to a stranger who scoffs at him kissing a dude

*grabs his partner’s dick and makes out with him*

it shuts them right up as he starts jacking off the other guy

right there and then

they’re chuckling into each other’s mouths

and oh, he ain’t afraid to finish the job

even if the stranger has long gone

He likes to make headlines in the local paper

no matter how odd or cringy it can get

his purpose is to have a voice

Jungkook: restless muscle pig

Almost bipolar with his personality

New girl in town? There’s a Jungkook for that

Does extra jobs for extra cash

Some jobs are legit overtime work...

...some not so legit

But it gets him by so he can be a new person for each individual

Never fails to hit the gym daily

He’s never not in a vest since he reached his late teens

starts pointless fights

because of this pent up anger

and need for attention on his efforts on his body

but then gets a serious caution from the cops

that if it happens again, he could be looking at more than over night behind bars

so he takes up mma fighting or something

suddenly it’s a semi-professional career

girls love him

but he doesn’t care

He’s still only down for nothing more than sex when it suits him

Loves his hard reputation

It gives him a personality to go by

No one really knows his past

but I think this lack of emotion is something to do with his childhood

as is the anger and need to work out

it was probably just something to do

Cocky

Eventually decides to take some exams and get the qualifications he didn’t bother with as a kid

acts like he owns the college

and actually, he kinda does because of the arrogant mindset

like because he thinks ‘I’m the best’, it is so

the guys don’t fuck with him

he winks at all the girls

and kinda misbehaves with them

“Hey [girl], if I get this piece of paper in the bin in one shot all the way from over here, you can give me your number”

*actually gets the shot and is secretly shook but acts like it was nothing*

Turns out he’s hella intelligent

and understands every little thing instantly

but that doesn’t stop him leaving college

to return to his normal life each evening

or sitting in the back of classes with his feet on the table

and food on his desk

So he’s still a little untamed and out of control

He still causes the odd street fight

almost loses his licence to fight in a ring

and he still trashes places

and he still has no definite personality

But then this one girl at his college

she puts him in his fucking place

He gets paired with her for a project and he’s like

“So, I talk, you type?”

and she is like

“Hell no”

Oh look, he realizes he’s whipped for a girl

because she ain’t afraid to backchat him

Muscle pig but with some weaknesses

Not sure if this has turned out too similar to my Fuckboi!BTS Headcanons but fuck it, there we go! I went by anon’s little thing about Jin as a basis for his hc and they’re not entirely based on what I think the boys would actually be like without BTS... Also for some reason, I feel different sexualities from them with these personalities so please don’t be offended...

...and I’m not even sure they were all entirely bad boy things [esp the gifs they’re just all so soft hahaha] but it’s getting late and this took way longer to think about than expected [oml punk activist Tae with all the tatts and piercings is making my heart flutter so much even though it’s my own creation?]

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ulyssessklein · 6 years

Text

Drummerhood: The Drum Beat of the Eclectic and Electric Percussionist Logan Sheppard

By: Rick L. Landers

Logan Sheppard – photo credit: Robert M. Knight

The brainchild of legendary rock photographer, Robert Knight, and co-founder, Jim Evans, The Brotherhood of the Guitar led the way to his focus on young talented percussionists, including a young man who pounds the skins with the skill and intuition of many who are now legends.

So, our lead on Knight’s cadre of drummers called Drummerhood is Logan Sheppard.

Already, Logan has played with some of his heroes, like the legendary, Bruce Kulick (KISS), Patrick Stone (Adler’s Appetite) and James Durbin (Quiet Riot), and has shared the stage with acts like Phantogram, Olivia O’Brien, GabrieLa and Missing Persons.

And it’s not an exaggeration to claim that Sheppard is able to shape shift his drumming style to rock out, to drill down on the expressions of traditional and modern jazz, shine on rhythm and blues and syncopate with the best in the business.

We look forward to see and hear more of Logan Sheppard and are honored to present him at Guitar International magazine.

******

Rick Landers: Growing up some kids are just naturally into banging around with knives, spoons, sticks, and a few become great percussionists. How about telling us about the Logan the younger and your natural inclinations, as well as when you became possibly more technical?

Logan Sheppard: I didn’t really start with banging on pots the way a lot of other kids do. I had this little blue drum kit in my room from the time I was barely walking, but if I’m being honest it didn’t get a lot of use then.

I was more interested in playing the piano, because my two best friends who lived next-door played piano. After about a year of piano lessons, my parents realized that I needed to play an instrument that let me be more physical, so it was back to the drums. I started taking lessons at six and playing in a band when I was 11, and I really only played classic rock songs, maybe a little pop.

Then one night my parents took me to see Sam Aliano playing with CAB at the Baked Potato. That show changed everything for me. That’s when I really fell in love with jazz fusion, as a fan and as a player.

And I knew I had to get way more serious about my practice schedule and my skills, if I was going to play genres like fusion and progressive rock.

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Rick: I’ve read that you have perfect pitch (So do I). What does that mean in terms of setting up your kit to complement other instrumentalists and vocalists or am I not quite getting the value of it for a drummer?

Logan Sheppard: It doesn’t necessarily affect the way I play or set up my kit, but it affects how I can communicate with other musicians. Whether it’s in the studio to help with production or on stage to help others tune their instruments, it’s a valuable tool that I can bring to the table for other musicians. If someone is trying to find a note, I got it. I think most people appreciate it.

Rick: I’d imagine you have been inspired by other classic drummers like Keith Moon, Buddy Rich, Ginger Baker and Neil Peart. Right? Or do you have others that offered or offer you inspiration….or should we talk particular songs, like most drummers first inspiration, “Wipeout”?

Logan Sheppard: John Bonham was a huge inspiration to me from the beginning. As I evolved musically I also found inspiration in other incredible players like Dave Weckl, Dennis Chambers, Eric Moore, Fred Dinkins, Dave Elitch, Thomas Lang, Billy Cobham, Virgil Donati, Sam Aliano and the list goes on.

Rick: Learning how to make full use of a drum kit means there are challenges to overcome that take a lot of practice until the techniques become more intuitive. What gave you difficulties or are you just gifted in a way that things come naturally?

Logan Sheppard – photo credit: Robert M. Knight

Logan Sheppard: Like anyone else I have strengths that I focus on and weaknesses that need work. I feel like my only real natural ability is the perfect pitch.

That part is easy because I just know the notes, even in every day sounds like sirens, cars, voices.

As a drummer, though, any growth for me comes from hours of hard work. Every day. For years. I like challenging myself with odd time signatures, double bass patterns, Latin music, fun stuff like that.

Rick: A lot of the time a group’s drummer is a little off-beat, maybe rebellious and their drum kit offers up some kind of controlled wildness or a way to structure or channel their internal pressures. Have you found that to be the case with yourself, and maybe other percussionists you’ve worked with?

Logan Sheppard: I’m definitely different, just ask anyone who knows me. Drums help me to express myself. I may get anxious in everyday situations, but when it comes to playing the music and performing for an audience, I always feel comfortable, like that’s what I was really meant to do.

Rick: I’ve heard that when a drummer is at a performance misses a beat, he or she should give the bass player a dirty look. Make sense?

Logan Sheppard: I wouldn’t know, I’ve never missed a beat. [Laughs]

Rick: My brother’s a drummer and growing up he was always moving, even sitting in class in high school his leg was moving around, like he couldn’t wait to get out of their so he could attack his drum kit. What about you?

Logan Sheppard: Same here. I’m hyper, I always have way too much energy. Having an outlet like drums helps a lot.

Rick: I see you seem to have some favorite charities and wondered if they were based on a personal interest you are motivated to support or are they more like a grab bag where you just found some that worked for you?

Logan Sheppard – photo by Robert M. Knight.

Logan Sheppard: Charities that cover treatment costs for kids with autism are super important to me. http://ACT-Today.org give incredible support to kids and their families through treatment, safety fencing, iPads for communication and more.

Autism Speaks and Autism Society are also important charities that focus on research, and the Autism Rocks concert that I perform in annually promotes awareness and inclusion.

Autism is something I understand on a personal level, so I’m always trying to do what I can to support kids and teenagers who are on the spectrum.

I’m also an advocate for Free2Luv, a non-profit organization that promotes acceptance and creates awareness about bullying, discrimination and teen suicide.

Rick: How’d you manage to work with some of the best performers, did they treat you as an equal or did you have to prove yourself?

Logan Sheppard: I’ve been blessed to play with incredibly talented musicians, and every one of them has been supportive. It helps to live in L.A., because so many great artists are right here. I try to play with superior musicians because it makes me work harder and forces me to elevate my playing.

I have a lot to learn and I don’t want anyone to be easy on me just because I’m a kid. I definitely don’t have an ego when it comes to my playing. I want honest feedback when I suck. I just want to learn and improve all the time.

Rick: How’d you end up meeting Robert Knight and what kind of mentoring has he offered to you as a performer and possibly as a new friend?

Logan: Robert has been super supportive and has connected me with so many different people. He knows basically everyone in the business and they all love and respect him.

Robert is such a cool dude. He originally contacted me on Facebook after seeing some of my videos, and he invited me to be part of his Drummerhood. So many great musicians in the Drummerhood and the Brotherhood of the Guitar.

Thanks to Robert, I’ve gained a lot of touring and recording experience over the last year and I’ve had a chance to share my music with people who never would have heard it. Robert is the best. He’s family.

Logan Sheppard – photo by Robert M. Knight.

Rick: What music projects are you working on now and what dream projects would you like to work on and with whom?

Logan: I recently finished a cover of the jazz standard “Caravan” using the arrangement from the film Whiplash with bass prodigy Gabriel Severn. I love the movie. I’ve probably watched it a hundred times.

Before I recorded the song, I went online to check out other covers and saw that basically no one was attempting the solo. I knew I needed to try it.

The video is getting a lot of positive feedback on YouTube which is very cool. It’s with a full band and it’s on my channel now. I’m very close to wrapping a Latin project that’s coming out in December, and there are some seriously heavy players on that.

I also recorded drums for a killer progressive rock artist in early November and played a couple private record label showcases.

I’ve been playing drums and programming tracks for Sofya Wang for almost a year, and more live dates are coming up before the end of the year. If you haven’t heard her music yet, you need to check her out. Great songs!

Doing all this dope stuff is already like a dream for me, but if I could play with anyone, I’d love to work with great new artists like guitarist Ayla Tesler Mabe, pianist Connie Hahn or bassist Benjamin Shepherd one day.

Of course, the ultimate dream project would be to jam or record with Steve Lukather. Set those goals high, right?

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