#this man is a BEAST on that kit and I could watch him play drums forever

[downtherabbitholewithlucy]

💥🥁That drumkit is getting assaulted🥁💥

[vivisextion]

I first saw Slipknot at age 14.

No one knows how I managed it. I'm not sure I even remember. These days, you have to be 16 or 18 to get into Standing areas. I do know I had to buy tickets on the phone, back in the old days (2005, that is). A singular ticket, too - none of my friends, not even the classmate who had gone with me to see Linkin Park the year before, was that into Slipknot.

But I HAD to see them. This was the Subliminal Verses tour cycle, and Vol. 3 was my first and favourite Slipknot album, even to this day. It's the reliable old warm blanket for my soul whenever I need it. It's on right now, as I write this.

My memory isn't that good, but luckily I unearthed a livejournal (livejournal!) diary entry about the event I made the next day.

August 16, 2005. I went right after school. I went to a very conservative Anglican secondary school, too. I tried not to get caught in the bathroom, as I coloured my nails black with permanent marker (I know, don't laugh) and changed into my standard metalhead baby outfit - Slipknot band shirt, black cargo shorts, and my pride and joy: steel-toe boots I somehow managed to cajole my parents into letting me own.

I caught the bus to the open-air war memorial park where the gig was going to be. I got there at 4pm, 4 hours early. A couple other maggots were already hanging around. I found myself surrounded by tombstones, and I read them all. It was the middle of the Hungry Ghost Festival, too - a very fitting time for Slipknot to pay a visit to this godforsaken hellhole of a small town I lived in. (Especially given the paranormal circumstances surrounding the making of Vol. 3.)

While I wandered around the venue (no security or sound guys were around at all), I spotted two white vans pull up to the stage, in the middle of a clearing. It was them! I spotted Joey and missed him by a hair's breadth. I was quickly ushered behind the stone archway entrance by security then.

(Funnily enough, while walking around, I got mistaken for Joey more than once. I am the same height as him, had the same long black hair, same pale skin, and was wearing almost exactly what he had been. One person claimed from behind, I was a dead ringer, apart from when I turned around, and they realised I was Chinese.)

It was soundcheck time. A sound guy testing the mics would say random things, like "testing one two three two one.... fudge fudge, I like fudge...." The band even did Purity, so us earlybirds were given a rare treat, and we screamed along from the entrance, and drummed our fists on the sides of nearby porta-potties. I hope no one was in there at the time. Whenever we got a glance of any of them, we'd scream and cheer. Finally they left again, but were soon to return.

This was the first time I'd been a part of the metal community. I was barely allowed internet in those days. But here, random strangers were friendly, striking up conversations like they'd been friends for years. Two big guys, called Trevor and Ted, looked out for me the entire gig after, keeping other big dudes from crushing me too much (I'm 5'3, remember). Other people commented on me being so baby, because I was only 14, and said they would take care of me.

When we were finally let in, right after the usher cut the rope, I ran in, screamed "WOOOHOOO!" along with a few friends I'd made. I only briefly stopped to receive this RoadRunner Records compilation CD from a roadie, then resumed running like a madman screaming and dashing into the VIP cage.

I was right up against the barricade - the first time I would ever be at a gig. People from assorted magazines and press took photos of us, and I think I got my photo taken about 10 times at least.

(This is how I got in trouble with my parents the next day. My photo had ended up in a local paper - you can see examples of that here. They had no idea what I'd been to see the night before, and were horrified when they saw what Slipknot looked like.)

We saw Sid filming us from the stage with a camcorder and screamed at him. We saw Jim and screamed at him too, and he flashed the victory sign back at us. I remember Metallica playing at the time, another one of my favourite bands.

The concert was a brutal religious experience I will never forget. People with their arms outstretched, crying and screaming out loud, moving like the devil possessed them.

The new friends around me made sure I was alright after every song! There were huge guys fainting behind us who had to get carried out, but I endured, a tiny 14 year old child. We got a family speech as per tradition, of course. "Are you guys out there all looking out for each other? We're all one big family, and we gotta look out for each other." What Corey said held true - strangers hugged, shook hands, talked, and made friends. I was heartened by how close-knit the maggot community was. It really did feel like a family, and it's felt like that ever since.

Of course, I did my first Jump The Fuck Up. It is possibly the most euphoria I've ever experienced all at one go. (Later, in 2020, I was extremely disappointed that I didn't get to do it again in London.)

They did the death masks for Vermilion, and I remember Chris helping Sid fix his mask and shirt when they'd changed back. Sid hung out near Clown's drums for most of the time too, and hugged him from behind and just latched on at one point. It was pretty adorable.

Fun fact: The version of Eyeless you hear on the 9.0 Live album is from Singapore, as is Eeyore. There are very few photos and videos from the crowd of this gig, because in 2005, very few people had camera phones. The crowd at the Slipknot gig in 2020 was a sea of arms with phones, filming the gig rather than experiencing it. Yes, I'm going to be that cranky old geezer who complains about the good old days.

Joey as usual, was fucking amazing and never failed. However, due to the fact that I was right up front, only his tiny head was visible behind his vast drum set, I couldn't see him the entire gig.

Amazingly, the government told Slipknot they were not allowed to do obscene gestures, curse, vomit (possibly due to the decomposing crow pre-show ritual), simulate humping on objects, throw faeces, or jump off stage (looking at you, Sid). I don't think our totalitarian government knew who they were dealing with, because watch what happens next.

Near the end of the gig, Corey tells the crowd “your government has given us a laundry list of things we aren’t allowed to do, your government has told us we are not allowed to swear”. Crowd goes “BOOOOOOOOO” and Corey goes “BUT WE DON’T GIVE A FUCK!!” And they launch into Surfacing, the last song. Everyone riots. Best night of my life.

You can find the setlist from that gig here. It had everything I wanted and more.

This story later got immortalised when Kerrang asked maggots for gig stories, for an article which came out in 2020. I had forgotten entirely, until people began messaging me to tell me, and one friend sent me a scan of it!

On the way out, I managed to get a shirt. I remember calling my best friend at the time, and got everyone at the merch booth to go "IF YOU'RE 555 THEN I'M 666" for her. This shirt has since been lost to the landfill, because my Christian mother took it upon herself to dispose of it the first opportunity she got. Needless to say, our relationship is not very good.

After that, I even managed to get that Roadrunner compilation album they were giving out signed. The band was staying at the Carlton. Unfortunately, Joey wasn't there, neither was Clown, and Mick was swarmed by guitar nerds so, 6/9 it is. It is a great regret of mine that I'll never have anything signed by him, nor will I ever get to see him perform ever again.

The next day, I went to school, my head swimming. Yes, I went to see Slipknot ON A SCHOOL NIGHT. I was a giant bruise, from my ribs and my chest, to my hips and knees, from being slammed into the barricade like a screen door in a hurricane. Most of all, my sore, headbanged-out neck could barely hold my head up. Classmates thought I had been in a fight. I was torn between battle-scarred exhaustion and hyperactive ranting about the most amazing gig of my short life (it still is, to this day). When teachers spoke to me, I wanted to reply, "Fuck trigonometry! I've just seen SLIPKNOT. Do you not understand that my world is different? Do you not understand that *I* am now different?"

My country was a small, conservative town that Slipknot had graced with their unholy presence. Corey Taylor once said that where he grew up in Iowa had a way of making a 16 year old boy feel like a 36 year old man (or something to that effect). I felt that in my weary bones as a teenager, being from a place just like that. Years later, Watain would run into worse trouble, and wouldn't even be allowed to perform. The Christian stranglehold is stronger than ever. It was a good thing that back then Slipknot had the element of surprise, striking serpent-fast and choking this society by the neck for a too-brief time, before they departed.

After that, my desire to play the drums only grew like a weed. Joey Jordison had, has, and will always inspire me as a drummer, and seeing the beast live (or what little I could spy behind the massive riser) had only spurred me on. I had always been a noisemaker, be it driving my parents mad with chopsticks on pots and pans, or driving my teachers mad with pencils on my desk. But of course, my parents wouldn't have any of it. I'd have to wait a good 14 more years before I'd be able to afford lessons and later, a kit of my own. Better late than never, right?

There will never be enough words to describe the impact Joey has had on my life. And it isn't just Slipknot, either. I could write another essay on his time with the Murderdolls and its influence on my own gender-non-conforming ways. Suffice to say, my wardrobe doesn't look too dissimilar to his during the early Dead in Hollywood days.

I told my boss I could not come into work today. I was grieving. I said that my music teacher died, as I didn't think she'd understand the magnitude of my loss. In a way, it's true. And I am not the only one Joey has nudged on the path to being a musician, that much is certain. To the rest of us, I wish strength and love for you in this difficult time. The best way to honour Joey, who truly loved music, both the creation and appreciation of it, is to pass that gift on. Teach it to someone. He is the reason I picked up the sticks in the first place, and one day, they'll be handed on, the heavy metal baton for the next generation.

And finally: remember that the ones we have lost are never truly gone.

Vinnie

P.S. See if you can spot me in the crowd photos in this post!

[10millionyearsdungeon]

One Night in Miyagi

A/N: Another month, another collab~. This one is for the Lovesick Discord server. September’s prompt was The Yandere Purge. Featuring the Karasuno Bara-daddy Officer Daichi Sawamura, we proudly present...One Night In Miyagi: A Purge Story.  ===============================================

The pulsating in your ears was a taiko drum solo your body played by rope; it was a familiar environment you knew you could react in. Muscle memory was your friend when it came to tying tourniquets and starting IVs for fluids. It was your life, after all-- after working several years after graduation at a trauma center in downtown Tokyo, your hands were responsible for saving and soothing so many lives. It only made sense that you would volunteer for this. Out of the back of a repurposed van and a ragtag crew of off duty police officers and nurses, you all agreed to be above the collective who engaged in the chaos about to ensue with the setting sun. “You’re sure about this?” The strapping young officer crossed his arms over his broad chest, dark eyes squinting into the sunset as you piled another heavy trauma kit into the back of the van next to the folded stretcher. You nodded and patted your hand on his beefy shoulder, offering him a small smile. “Sawamura, I’ve never been more certain. It’s not my first purge night.” He didn’t appear to be convinced by your reply, but shrugged and loaded his own gear into the van next to your loaned equipment. “Besides, with the hospitals closed and the rest of the first responders forced to take the night off it’s not like we had anything else better to do.”

The way his eyes lingered on your delicate wrists and trailed up your forearms made you shiver. Sawamura was always one of those friendly faces you looked forward to seeing when he brought a drunk and disorderly patient into your department. In another life you could see yourself fall for him and his bravery. If only you knew just how far he would go to protect you…

He didn’t like the idea of you putting yourself in harm’s way. From the moment he first laid eyes on you after taking a nasty hit during a call he knew you had to be his. It was your gentleness that won him over as you readied his eye for repair. It was a nasty blow to the head and he could barely see. It was like only yesterday when you stitched him up and picked out the remaining glass fragments from the broken beer bottle, only to leave his bay to scold and dish out your own legal form of justice on the drunken fool who dared attack an on-duty police officer. 

Maybe it was your strength that attracted him so. Perhaps it was the quiet way you would smile before selecting the largest angiocaths on your problem patients to help them understand the error of their ways. He found himself thinking as you carefully held the split skin of his face together with delicate fingertips that you were something small, precious even. After that night, he made more frequent appearances, noting your schedule and asking around for you when you flitted from one patient to the next. It surprised you how often you bumped into each other. As a professional courtesy, you bought him a cup of coffee on your break and he nearly fell right then and there. In the ugliness and rot of your shared world, you stood above it all as a paragon of true goodness in his eyes. Somehow untarnished, that tiny nurse who didn’t take no for an answer when it meant it would benefit her patients captivated him. So driven, so pure, you needed to be protected and saved from the filth. He grew bolder, even going so far as to ask for your number one night when your department was emptying out. His request took you aback, but you endeared him further by tucking your hair behind your ear and scribbling your digits on a bright pink post-it note. It started out innocently enough. He’d send you the occasional text to see if you were working and drop by with a much-needed boost whether it was coffee or a touch of kindness and insight only another member of the fold could bring to your hellacious shifts. You never noticed just how close he would get when your back was turned, how discreetly he would lean in to catch a whiff of your perfume from your neck or how his hand would linger at the small of your back just a few seconds shy of being uncomfortable. It was nearly six months before you called him by his given name, and when you did he never wanted another person’s name to fall from your lips. It came as a minor surprise to you that he volunteered for the ride along with you. But Daichi knew it would be easy to get you alone. The Purge was the perfect excuse to be close, to work with you, to protect you from the ensuing violence. You closed the heavy doors and hopped inside with a soft grunt, the sound striking him to the core. “Y’know, there are easier ways to get my attention,” he teased. You grinned and crouched along the stretcher, the cool metal bars digging into your thighs. You adjusted the securement straps on your equipment, really a collection of mismatched bungie cables and zipties, and sighed through your nose. As you did your final checks, Daichi raked his eyes along the curves of your body in silent admiration. Shaking himself from his reverie, he climbed to the front of the van and murmured something to the driver you couldn’t quite catch. They turned on the scanner and the van purred to life as it pulled out of the empty lot. Your night was about to begin. 

You hung out in the back of the van as the driver pulled into another ambulance bay to pick up your second medic, a quiet young man with sharp brown eyes and dark red hair. As he loaded up, a feeling of unease washed over you and you swore you could smell gasoline on his clothes. You pushed your thoughts to the side and helped him secure his equipment, all under the watchful eye of Officer Sawamura. The feeling he got off the newcomer made him recoil in revulsion. He narrowed his gaze at him as the redhead smiled slyly at you and held out his hand for you to shake. “Saito Tendou,” he chirped with a fox-like grin. “Y/n,” you replied, tentatively taking his hand in a brief shake. Revulsion consumed Daichi over the harmless touch. How dare he touch you? Did he know you didn’t belong to him? As Daichi swallowed his rage, he smiled warmly and offered Tendou a thermos of hot coffee, which the newcomer gratefully accepted. Your crew was complete; pulling out of the lot, the van began slowly patrolling the streets. Daichi kept his sidearm close and loaded as he scanned the streets for any unfriendlies. It was early, and the rougher the area became, the more apparent it was that the designated time frame for Purge Night was merely a suggestion. Fires erupted from storefront windows, people in crudely made masks looted and carried their prizes brazenly down the narrow streets. Women, scantily clad in fishnet and plastic wrap sashayed down the sidewalks looking for a few Johnnies to make their Purge Night a lucrative one to remember. Tendou’s gaze lingered on the hookers in their sparkling heels and garish makeup, all the while still wearing that same smirk. “It’s a shame we can’t go out and have a little fun, too, huh, Y/n?” Your cheeks flushed with the implication of his statement and you chuckled nervously. Daichi turned around to watch you tuck your hair behind your ear and again felt that beast in his belly attempt to claw its way to the surface. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean,” you murmured, eyes thoughtfully trained on the gutters and storm drains as you passed. Daichi flexed in his seat and chuckled darkly, a sound you nearly missed over the chorus of screams pouring from a burned out convenience store Tendou’s grin fell and everyone in the van could feel the tension rise. The driver, with his heavy-lidded eyes and stoic expression breathed out a soft curse as you readied your pack. Daichi opened his door and was the first out of the van. You followed closely behind; it was an unspoken agreement you had when you both signed on for this-- he would take point, and you would stay close to him. You held your medic pack close to your hip as you traced Daichi’s steps. The burly officer had his 9mm handgun trained at the door, moving silently through the trashed aisles. Corn chips and hard candy crunched underfoot along with broken glass and debris. As you trudged through the building behind your dedicated lawman, you gasped when the screaming suddenly stopped. All you could hear was the pounding of blood in your ears and the slowing of Daichi’s breathing. “Y/n,” he whispered, unmoving as his flashlight revealed bloody trails leading down the back of the store to the walk-in cooler. It looked like someone was dragged forcibly into the chilly space, their handprints smeared against the heavy door. He glanced down between his boots and shuffled forward. “I don’t think you need to see this, Y/n.” It was almost a warning, one he knew you wouldn’t heed as the unknown victim’s fingertips rolled under his steel-toed boots. Severed neatly at the knuckle, he pushed forward with his muzzle trained on the door as you skirted to his back. “Don’t look down.” “I--...Officer Sawamura, I-” “I said don’t look.” Your blood ran cold when the door swung open. The convenience store manager huddled in the corner of the cooler, clutching her hands to her abdomen. Her eyes went wide with terror as Daichi shined his light into the space. He almost felt bad for her- hair matted with blood and gore, shivering from the chill that had sunk into her bones. The puddle she sat in reeked of congealed blood and excrement, evidence of her fight soaking into her torn clothes and stained apron. Your feet rushed you to her side before the officer could stop you. You knelt down and whispered kind words, stating you were there to help her. She flinched at your touch, terrified that you were there to bring her more harm. Daichi continued to stand watch, turning his back to guard the only exit. If she was still alive, chances are whoever decided to loot and maim the poor girl would come back to finish the job. “Ma’am, I need to clean the blood off so I can assess the extent of your injuries.” You dropped your pack to your side and knelt as you worked, pulling bottles of sterile saline to wash the blood and urine from her hands and face. Her fingertips were severed cleanly, but to the bone. It didn’t leave much for you to work with, but you persisted. The body was a miraculous thing. As you continued to murmur hushed words of encouragement, of genuine concern and care for the clerk, Daichi felt himself swell with pride and jealousy. You were too good, too sweet for this disgusting world. It was everything he could do to keep you safe. By the time you finished wrapping up her hands and sewing the deeper defensive wounds on her arms and chest, Tendou was sauntering into the storefront with a strange wobble to his gait. You kept your focus on your patient and helped her to her feet, gently reminding her that it was going to be okay, that she was safe. Daichi aimed his gun at the redhead as he drew closer. “Oh, Officer, how nice to see you.” Daichi’s finger gripped the trigger slowly as Tendou walked into the light. He pressed the muzzle of the gun into his own chest and grinned that sly, loaded grin, daring the cop to release the safety and pull the trigger. He leaned over Daichi’s shoulder and watched as you helped your patient out of the cooler. “Does our little lamb need assistance?” “This little lamb is fine, Tendou. There’s a safe house not far from here. Run there and don’t get caught. And don’t stop until you get there. Tell them Mercy sent you,” you ordered the frantic woman. She nodded and pushed past the two men on unsteady legs. “That was sweet of you...but I doubt she’ll get far.” “What do you--” The redhead drew closer as the woman pushed passed him and out of the cooler. Daichi trailed behind her, if only to ensure she didn’t need cover-fire as she made her escape. As the police officer’s footfalls retreated from the store, Tendou grinned and inspected the bloody scene. “Injured lamb, blood loss, the scent’s in the air and the sharks are circling the block...it’s only a matter of time before she’s had, Y/n.” You steadied your breathing and glared up at him. “It was sweet of you to give her a chance, though...Mercy.” He whispered your codename with a smirk, his heavy-lidded eyes drinking in your soured expression with interest. “How do you know that name?” He canted his head, expression unchanging and drew closer so you could smell the coffee and liquor on his breath. He turned only slightly, noting the white light flooding the storefront and creeping into the walk-in in broad, sweeping strokes. Taller than you by a head, he leaned into your body, caging you against the frosty metal of the back of the fridge, his hand clapped tightly over your mouth. Your eyes darted up to meet his, a harshness you were unfamiliar with dancing in them like fire threatening to engulf you both. You understood his wordless plea-- stay quiet and still. Voices, slurring and rough called into the store from the street. They paused only to taunt Officer Sawamura, a mistake met with gunfire and tires squealing into the night. You could hear him make his return, but Tendou held fast to you, hiding you from view. “Are they gone?” You asked quietly when Daichi made his return. Your eyes widened at the shadow that crept over your living shield. The ringing in your ears muffled the rapid sprinting of your heartbeat as hot blood and gray matter sprayed across your face and neck like an explosion of organic stew. Bone fragments caught in your hair with the softer tissues of your former partner. Eyes wide with terror, you stared at Daichi. Your scream caught in your chest as you hyper-ventilated, frozen against the steel wall. He casually stepped over the redhead’s limp body and he reeked of gunpowder and brain matter.

The world and its mindless noise seemed to slow down with the slumping body of your partner. Daichi lowered his weapon and returned it to the holster on his hip as casually as one would slip shoes on. He moved quickly, surprising considering his size, and gripped your jaw with a beefy hand. With your mouth covered again, all you could do was pant through your nose and tremble at the scene. He worked quickly to rifle against your clothes, all the while pinning you to the wall by your face with that single strong hand. When he found what he was looking for, you whimpered quietly into his palm. Daichi drank in your fear and watched you quake against him as he brushed along your hips with measured interest. “If you scream, I can’t promise your protection.” Your throat bobbed with another scream swallowed in fear. It was one thing to see the aftermath of a murder, but another entirely to be an accessory to one. Tendou’s eyes were glassy, pupils blown and fixed as he stared up at your writhing futilely into Daichi’s iron grip. The officer leaned into your ear and you could feel him grin as he fanned your skin with his hot breath. “He was attacking you, Y/n. What kind of person would I be if I didn’t protect you?” The glimpse of Daichi’s true nature shone through as he curled two fingers into the meat of your thigh, his free palm gripping your buttock with enough force you knew would leave you with bruises. You’d be his-- he’d make certain of it. Daichi would keep you safe even if it meant he had to drug and shoot every warm body with a pulse in the entire country. He’d burn the prefecture to the ground if it meant you’d be his to protect. As realization sunk into your bones with the slap of his fingertips against your clothed core, a new feeling of helplessness washed over you that made your insides clench and twist in on themselves. Caught in his trap, Officer Daichi Sawamura ensured it was a Purge Night his night nurse would never forget. 

[nevermindirah]

It’s going to be a long drive across central Asia and Nile gets to pick the music for the first leg of their journey. She’s feeling nostalgic today, so she digs out her ancient iPhone, long since relegated to a brick solely for storing music and old photos, and pulls up a playlist she hasn’t had the heart to listen to in a while.

It’s all kinds of 90s Kid TM stuff — Brandy, Aaliyah, Spice Girls, Hanson, the damn Macarena, and of course, Disney renaissance soundtracks. She hasn’t sung along to “Almost There” in years.

Joe’s into it, drumming against the steering wheel, singing along to the songs he knows, picking up the melody by the end of most of the songs he doesn’t. Quynh is bobbing her head, snapping, clapping, occasionally rhythmically poking at Nicky as if he’s a feral drum kit, because Nicky is Tired and would prefer to nap, thank you.

Eventually Nicky accepts his fate that this leg of the trip will not involve him sleeping, and he doesn’t sing along but Quynh insists she catches him tapping his foot to a few of the songs.

They’re more than an hour in when it happens.

“Maybe he’s right. Maybe there is something the matter with me. I just don’t see how a world that makes such wonderful things... could be bad”

Joe catches Nile’s eye, looking delighted, and he sings along with her at top volume. They’re both so into it that It takes Nile a whole verse to realize Nicky is singing along too.

Part-way through, the vibe changes, and Nile looks over to see tears streaming down Joe’s face. He’s always cried easily, and it doesn’t seem like it’s affecting his driving — maybe he just really likes the song.

Once they hit that final “wish I could be,” though, Joe’s voice breaks. It’s then that Nile hears Nicky is sobbing.

Joe asks Nile to pause the music before another song comes on, and he reaches unseeing behind him to grab Nicky’s hand.

“We knew Howard,” Joe says. “The man who wrote that song.”

Nicky asks if Nile has the whole Beauty and the Beast soundtrack. She does, and she puts it on to play softly in the background while he and Joe tell Nile, who wasn’t born yet, and Quynh, who was locked away, about this kind and talented man who was among the hundreds they visited in lonely hospital wings, who was so grateful they were among the few willing to even hold his hand as he slowly died.

This sobfest brought to you by the new Rowan Ellis and Dreamsounds collab about Disney and the AIDS crisis: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=YIEAHCXnixE

[youarejesting]

Curse.12 Again

[First] [Masterlist] [Next] Beta: N/A Rating: PG Pairing: Prince!Jin x Reader Genre: fantasy, romance, comedy, drama, mystery, and more good stuff Words: 2.4k

Summary: A modern-day fairy tale whereby seven young princes born under King Bang’s greed cannot find true love. Unless they break a special spell, called the ‘Bang curse’. In order to break the curse, Prince Seokjin must be loved by a ‘Blue’ blood, by a royal. That seems almost impossible when you have a pig nose. (based off the movie Penelope)

You left rushing out of the palace and throwing the coat to the van and jumping on the first bus towards your work. In such a rush, barely taking a moment to check your phone, hoping you would make it on time. 

You arrive and the boss is sitting there looking at the clock, “you're eight-minutes late.” He growled and you frowned looking at him and checking your phone. 

“I’m only three minutes late, that clock is slow”

“You should be arriving at least ten minutes before your shift and leave ten minutes after”

“Only if you pay for the extra twenty minutes, I legally won’t step foot onto this premises before my shift starts for insurance reasons” 

“Listen don’t think about being late tomorrow or you will be fired” he breathed leaving you to run the store and you frowned taking a deep breath and getting to work. 

Once your shift was over you headed home for a quick shower before you had to go to the bakery. You saw the landlady walking the hall, you sighed this wasn’t going to work out. You grabbed your things and packed your suitcase with everything you owned in it. It was sad really that your whole life fit into one suitcase. 

You showered and changed leaving with everything and thanking the landlady for everything and apologizing that she had to put up with everything. You handed her an envelope. “This is everything I can give you right now”

“I wish you luck,” she said pushing the envelope back towards you. “I won’t take what you have left”

“Thank you I will definitely repay you one day,” you said looking at the floor “I will, I promise”

You took your suitcase and headed to work, it was a perfectly normal day at work. Everything was amazing and you were excited to see Seokjin again. 

After work, you dragged your suitcase to the palace and handed it to the van waiting outside while slipping on the pink blazer equipped with the tiny camera. 

Waking into the palace you were let inside and you walked the halls expertly. You located the room and in the middle of the room was a drum kit. You laughed, staring at it as you laid back on the couch closing your eyes for some sort of rest before Seokjin arrived. 

It didn’t take long before his beautiful voice filled the room, “You are back” With all the joys of a child seeing their favorite person return after a long absence. “How long have you been waiting?”

“Not long enough to nap,” the yawn that cut through would definitely be a prelude to many more.

He laughed, “I have decided you must play the drums you have excellent timing and you are spontaneous and very impactful and loud and wild like a drum” 

You nodded and tried to play the song ‘Epiphany’ you had tried to play every day for him but you were too busy laughing and banging the drums. “Okay, I get it, you don’t play the drums.” He was hysterical and it was a type of boyish flair you didn’t hear from him often. A pure sound, unlike his melancholy tones you were used to.

“You sound happy today?” You grinned walking closer to the mirror and smiling up at him “Why don’t we go out, we can get food and drink. You are losing your twenties in a tower, my prince”

“I can’t” his voice dwindled again and you pushed further you were wanting more and more of him every day, whether it be his voice, memories, time or physical presence you wanted it all and you didn’t know how much longer you could sit and be happy with these interactions.

You placed your hand flat against the glass and gave it a tap. “Jin?” 

“You don’t have to leave yet do you?” His voice seemed disappointed, a return tap against the mirror signaled his hand was pressed against the reverse side, lined up with yours. 

“I want to see you?” You whispered; eyes searching the glass and starring fixed where you could only guess he was watching. 

“You really don’t?” He sighed, sounding distant like he had stepped away, “once you see me you will leave, they always do.” 

“Not me.” There was truth in your words, he could honestly be the most hideous man on the planet and you would still feel this way. “If I left, I think I would miss you too much to stay away”

“I just can’t” his voice seemed distant and all you could feel was the cold glass reflecting your desperate eyes. This was just supposed to be work but you were getting attached to him. It was a dangerous game and you knew you had already lost.

He was witty, his puns were lame but they made you laugh wholeheartedly, the way he spoke genuinely about his interests and his love for food and cooking. The way he spoke about his brothers you could feel how much he cared for them. Everything he gave you made you want more, it was an unquenchable thirst.

“Jin, are you still there?” You were scared it had dawned on you how much you longed for him and you couldn’t imagine a day without coming to the palace for one of your chats.

“I am still here?” He said quietly. You thought to give him some space and you sat on the couch when your phone alerted you to a text from your manager at the bakery. Apparently, some money had gone missing earlier that day during your shift and everyone was called to a meeting in half an hour.

“I really can’t handle this now” You threw your phone onto the next cushion and hung your head in your hands.

“What is wrong?” Seokjin’s voice called and you didn’t move a muscle or even make a sound as you were running through the shift in your head. 

“I have to go?” You whispered, standing and picking up your phone. You were close to tears the water that you had always waded in had gotten deeper and you used to be able to come up for air but now you were struggling trying to catch a break so you would have a chance to breathe. “Can, I come back later?”

“Of course, is something wrong?” He asked quietly and you nodded adjusting your handbag and looking back at the mirror.

“Only everything in my entire life” You turned to leave and he spoke three sad words that made your throat constrict.

“Is it me?” You strode back across the room and pressed your hands to the mirror.

“It is many things, but it could never be you” pausing for a moment you breathed. “I am sure you have enough beds in the palace, how about I stay the night and we can talk as long as you want”

“Really” He was excited by the prospect of spending more time with you, “I will get you a pretty room?”

“I want this one so I can be near you” 

“I will arrange a bed”

“As long as the bathroom is private, I don’t want anyone looking at me shower”

“I promise that there are no rooms that look into the bathrooms”

“I will be back after this meeting and then it’s you and me for dinner” You pressed a kiss to the glass and ran out of the room and the palace passing Adora and another young man and you threw the jacket at Jay park and Alana and told the two to drive to the bakery.

You jumped out and told them to wait, walking into the so-called meeting you saw the bakery was closed. Besides you, there were only two other people in the shop and they were the couple who owned it.

“Please take a seat,” the wife said looking rather cold and you walked over slowly and hesitantly.

“Where is everyone?” You asked

“We only invited you,” they said and it dawned on you, they believed it was you. 

“Ah you think it was me, well isn’t this swell?” you didn’t even bother taking a seat, instead you grabbed your handbag and began searching for your wallet “I get kicked out of my home this morning and now this, how much was taken from the till?”

The two seemed almost frightened by the sheer force with which you spoke. The woman seemed to try to match your fierce demeanor failing as she told you it was a few hundred. You counted out your money and threw it onto the table. Before turning from the shop and walking out. You leaned your head back in. “Oh, your husband has been sneaking off to the storage room with some of the young women who work here. You should leave him, he is a sleaze.”

You were throwing caution to the wind because what else was there to do, sit and cry about it, no you were not. You could sink to the bottom all you wanted and you weren’t going to struggle, because once you hit the ocean floor the only way was up.

The whole way back to the palace Alana and Mr. Park were nagging, “Listen we are running out of time, we need this photo” Mr. Park said as he drove away from your previous workplace.

“Why, Why do you need this photo?” You snapped

“Because he is a beast,” Alana said, causing you to roll your eyes, she was delusional obviously.

“Funny he seems nice enough, nice broad shoulders?” You thought back on Seokjin and your troubles seemed to melt away for a moment.

“Hello, Suryeon?” Adora asked “Right this way, Prince Seokjin has prepared dinner for you if you will follow me”

You were deep in thought about what the reporter had said, something about it didn’t sit right with you but the more you thought about it the more it gave you a headache. You were trying to push it away, so you could concentrate on your evening with Seokjin.

Outside the sitting room, Adora stopped you. “What do you think of the prince?”

“He is beautiful” You smiled “He is charming and his shoulders are so broad and he makes these dumb jokes that make me laugh. I feel like everything is okay when I am with him.”

She grinned, opening her mouth to press for more information when the door opened. And two young men stepped out. “Ah, you must be Miss Suryeon, I am Pddog the butler and this is Prince Taehyung”

“It is a pleasure to meet you, my brother speaks of you often these days” He smiled shaking your hand, “Please grow to love him.”

Almost offended by this statement, there was nothing wrong with Seokjin in your opinion that warranted some sort of plea. “Who says I don’t already?”

“He is waiting,” Pddog said and you pushed open the door heart racing. Only to see that there was a table pressed up to the mirror. The laugh that escaped you was a humorless one, figures he wouldn’t really be eating with you.

Dinner was pleasant you almost choked at one point from laughter. After a sweet dessert, Seokjin told you to open the small box on the bed. Looking inside you saw there was a bath bomb, a pink leaf shape with the scent of coconut.

“I thought we could use bath bombs together,” cheeks turning a bright red he laughed, “we would be in two different bathrooms but perhaps we could message or call and relax together.”

“Of course, that sounds lovely.” You were given directions to the guest bathroom and you were told everything was in there for you, you nodded scooping up some clothes and heading to the bathroom. 

You sat on the side of the tub amusedly watching the bath bomb fizz, before submerging yourself into the warm water. You took your phone and rang Seokjin placing your phone in a little holder so it wouldn’t fall into the water.

“Hello?” He answered

“Hello” you giggled “This bath is huge”

“Or, are you just small?”

“There was no need to attack me like that”

“I am sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you”

“Jin, it is a joke”

“Oh, okay, I’m sorry.” He spoke a little distantly “I saw my brother on the way here and he seems to like you, you must truly be an angel. My brother rarely trusts anyone with me.”

“I am honored he seems to approve of me” You heard a noise that sounded like a packet. “Are you eating chips in the bath?”

“No, I just opened a face mask?” His laugh was beautiful and loud echoing just right around the bathroom. “They will be on the left, you can use one as well if you like”

You were dressed and you entered back into the room your hair mostly dry. You curled up into the blankets and soft pillows and spoke with Seokjin until you couldn’t keep your eyes open any longer. You kept thinking back to what Mr. Park had said.

“Listen, I need this photo as much as you need the money. Okay, we all got a past, I wasn’t always an old cynical guy. I was humiliated as a young reporter. I was shunned and my pictures were torn apart in front of me. No one believed the apprentice and no one would listen if you said the king got into a car accident that orphaned a little girl. I was there I had the pictures. Now I won’t let those royals get away with anything.”

It was snowing and there were kids slightly older than you, they were teasing you.

Your parents were smiling at you from the front seat of the car, you remember the red light and the stopped taking a moment to turn and ask you if you wanted a hot chocolate. 

They through your pig plush toy over the fence.

Tires could be heard screeching in the background and the shattering of glass.

You were crying, cold, upset, and in pain. 

“You dropped this?” His voice echoed as did the glass breaking. “I’m Jin”

He was fading away, and all you could hear was crying. As his image faded you saw his face with a pig nose. 

You jolted awake and held your head in your hands. 

“Are you okay?” Seokjin’s voice called and you felt your body relaxing “You were crying, I thought you might have been hurt”

“I am sorry I woke you, I just had a bad dream”

“Would you like to tell me about it?”

“I think I remember how my parents died, I think it might have been a car accident”

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[i-write-shakespeare-not-disney]

I’m going to post a small section or so of each WIP I have on here. Inbox me with which ones catch your eye!

Solangelo:

Satisfied: He turned and Nico felt dizzy. As he looked into bright, intelligent, blue eyes and took in the welcoming but worn smirk and the splatter of freckles that gave this man such a boyish look, the words on the tip of his tongue disappeared and his mind was completely blank.       “Hi,” the blond answered. Nico gulped and tried to remember how to introduce himself, tried to remember what he’d come to say. Suddenly he felt overheated. His heart was beating rapidly, harshly against his ribs, and he was positive his own cheeks were bright under his olive toned skin. He managed a smile and the man arched an eyebrow at him. “Is it me, or is it a little hard to find a way to be satisfied at these things?” he said in a low, enticing voice that made Nico nervous. “Something tells me you’ve never been.”

Prejudice Makes the Beast: “Thank you,” he answered, mystified, staring at the kit curiously. Katie and Miss Knowles left, leaving Will with his new prisoner. “So what stupid thing did you do to get yourself to look like that?” he asked briskly. His dark eyes flickered to Will like an endless abyss of mystery and wonder.       “What?”       “Household objects don’t usually talk. And neither do animals. Your eyes are too human. And I’m not stupid.” He folded his hands over the table, sick, but still very much in control. “So, who did you anger to the point of getting turned into… an oversized teddy bear?” Will growled and the boy rolled his eyes. “Oh please. Growl all you want, you know I’m right. Besides, if you were going to eat me, you would’ve done it.” Will glared at him, but the boy seemed unfazed. “You said you wanted my sister. Why?” 

Lams

Rules to Break: Later that night, once they were leaving the bonfire, Alexander tugged on John’s sleeve. “I have an idea,” he whispered. He walked beside him, speaking quietly so John had to lean down a bit. “It takes three offenses before getting kicked out. If we’re subtle, we won’t get caught.”       “Caught?” Alexander opened his notebook and pulled out the pamphlet, showing him the side with the rules.      “We’re going to break each one of these by the end of the summer. And we’re not getting caught unless it’s absolutely necessary to. Some of these are a little difficult to break without getting caught.” He smiled widely, giving him a completely different look. Frankly, it was a wonderful thing to see on his face. “So are you in, Laurens?” 

Klance

My Only Hope (A Walk to Remember AU): Logan tilted his head back, demanding his attention. “You mad at me?”       “You left me,” Keith hissed. “It was your stupid idea and I took the fall for you again.”      “I’ll make it up to you,” he murmured against Keith’s jawline. Keith scoffed and let Logan press kisses along his jaw until he reached his lips. “Okay?” Keith hummed and shut his eyes as Logan kissed him, his tongue sliding along Keith’s lip.         “Uh-oh, watch out, there comes Bible Boy,” Natalie muttered softly. Keith and Logan split apart, and glanced over to where Lance McClain was walking.        Lance McClain was a reverend’s nephew. Keith had been in the same kindergarten class with him, and they’d gone to the same schools since. He always wore an oversized faded blue sweater and always, always had a bible in his hands. He never even bothered to hide it in his backpack. The teachers never told him anything because he didn’t preach it to anyone, so he wasn’t technically breaking any rules. And he always walked around with his head down, gripping his ratty old book, sticking out like a sore thumb with his tall, lanky figure and godawful haircut.

My Dearest Bodyguard: As King Alfor stepped back, he gave Lance a slight smile and the prince couldn’t help the warm and hopeful feeling he felt bubble up in him. “Now you are grown. And every royal needs a guard when they come of age.” Lance fought the urge to frown. “Keith Kogane, step forward.” From the front row of seats, Lance saw one of many Galras stand. He furrowed his eyebrows as he watched this one stand straight, left arm crossed over his chest with a fist at his shoulder. This boy couldn’t be much older than Lance. How was he a guard? “Keith Kogane, do you solemnly swear to protect the prince to the best of your abilities at all times, regardless of the cost?”           “I swear it,” the boy said, with a look of determination.

Come Back Home (angst?): Movies  never prepare you for what comes after the honeymoon stage. They show you how fun it is to playfully shop for things you’ll want in your new, tiny one bedroom apartment, how you spend the first day there slow dancing in an empty living room with only a box for a table to put Chinese takeout on.... They don’t tell you how tedious the bills get. How arguments start over whose fault it is the fire alarm went off, or who used more electricity, or who was supposed to take out the trash or do the laundry or wash the dishes.... They don’t tell you any of it, they don’t prepare you for any of it. And there’s no escaping it. Because your names are on a lease and you have nowhere else to go. 

idek: A long time ago, a relationship had gone to shit due to rapidly developing emotions. Then again shortly after, and again the time after that. Lance had a bad habit of falling hard and fast, and moving even faster. He’d gotten his heart broken too many times for the sole reason that he couldn’t set a pace for himself and his significant other and it always got out of hand.         So when Keith agreed to date him, Lance promised himself he’d take his time. He promised himself to go slow and be patient and to wait. He wouldn’t fuck this up.         It worked for about a week. 

Mr. Student Body President: “Of course. Anyway, I have a few ways you can complete your hours. Are you good at any sports or classes? You can help with personal practices and tutoring-”      “Jesus, dude. Look, there’s a reason I’m in this shit in the first place, so no. I don’t do sports and school.”      Lance sat and sighed. “Does it ever get tiring?” Keith tilted his head. “This whole act thing you’ve got going.”       Keith’s laid back posture turned rigid and his face went from cocky to defensive. “Don’t talk to me like you know me, Mr. President.”       Lance shrugged and drummed his fingers on the table. “The thing is, I kind of do. You’re Keith Kogane. The kid who used to trip people to win at tag in elementary, the kid who always talked back to a teacher who made him look stupid, the guy who had all A’s until freshman year. So yeah, don’t bullshit me when it’s obvious you’re purposefully failing your classes before you pull them up last minute to get credit. So I’m gonna ask you again. What classes are you good at?” 

The Lost Prince (Anastasia AU): As they ran, he could hear people shout, “Down with the Koganes! Down with the monarchy! Kill them all!”       “Shiro!”       “Don’t listen, just keep running.”       Suddenly, another hand pulled at his shirt harshly, making him slip from Shiro’s grasp. He turned in fear, but was surprised to meet a face about his age. The servant boy who wanted to dance at the party. His blue eyes were wide, but seemingly less afraid than himself.        “They’ll find you there! Come this way, there’s a servant’s passage.” He ran into another room for the princes to follow. He kneeled at one wall, shoving impatiently until it gave way to an opening. Akira’s eyes widened at the sight. “Go! You’re running out of time!”

All Planned Out: Lance always wondered why Sofi or Abby couldn’t help with it. Just because they were girls didn’t mean they couldn’t clean a car. But Lance was the middle child. Abby’s job was to babysit. Sofi’s was to be cute. His was to do as he was told.       A pretty black car came down the road as Lance scrubbed the back of his mom’s car with a soapy sponge and stopped at the house across and one over from his own. A big man stepped out, and Lance watched as another kid came out from the back door. The big man went to the trunk and pulled out a suitcase and a box of stuff. Lance saw the kid look over at him, and he turned away, scrubbing the car. Mom always said staring wasn’t polite.       Lance kept helping his dad, only turning to stare when the car went away. He saw the little boy holding onto the pillar in front of the house, and his face was red and wet, but he looked angry. Someone else came outside and then the boy ran inside. Lance wanted to see if he was okay. But he didn’t know the boy or the people who lived in the house he was left at.      So instead, Lance finished helping with yard work and then went inside for a shower. He played video games until it was one in the morning, then fell asleep, wondering if that boy across the street was still crying and why. 

[thegreatlarryfisherman]

“You Shouldn’t Have Misbehaved, Princess.”

It’s been a long time since I’ve written some SF,  so I’m a little out of practice.  Anyways, this one’s for @auntiemama1 and all my Echelon girls with a little hankering for some dominant Shannon. 

Warnings: Light Daddy Kink, intense language, spanking, rough sex.  Word Count:  1792 Description:  Shannon’s fresh off tour and you missed the Shanimal in your man more than anything. After a quick tease in the club, he takes his Princess home and reminds her who she belongs to. 

If you’re not into smut, don’t click this cut. I warned ya!

Shannon’s not a jealous guy. Hell, far from it. If anything, he’s only because of the games I play. It started the day he tied my shoe and I playfully pushed my skirt over his head. He was in awe that I wasn’t wearing any underwear and I jokingly said, “So, why don’t you punish me?” His plump little bottom lip was caught in a delicious little vice grip by his top row of teeth, and that’s where it began.

I’m a masochist in a way, but only for Shannon. I like to toy with him. See, my man may be soft spoken in interviews, but watch his hands when he talks. He’s got a firm… grip.

This particular night, I was itching for it. Back in town from tour, I committed to getting my way. I danced on him for about forty five minutes in the club, not letting him touch me or get too close to me. Then, at last call… I found some boring guy to dance with while Shannon was getting our last drinks. I let the guy have a squeeze on my ass or two, the whole time watching Shannon who from the bar shot daggers at the scene before him. Then, when it was time to go… I wrapped my arms around one of Shannon’s strong ones and cooed in his ear, in that voice that he loves to pretend he hates.

“What’s wrong, Daddy?” I was a little drunk, truth be told but I knew what got his attention. His shoulders heaved a bit as he focused on his iPhone, content on getting the Uber ordered. Pity, because I wanted to play now. Like I said, Shannon’s not a jealous guy but if you play with him too long, he unleashes the Shanimal and it is glorious. “Baaabe.” I whined and strategically stepped on my shoe lace until it unraveled. “My shoe’s untied.”

“Get your boyfriend to tie it.” He growled out and I bit my lip. This time, I may have really made him mad… The Uber pulled up about twenty seconds later, both of us stood in a silent wait for it and I nearly breathed relief when he finally spared me a glance and said: “Get in.”

I climbed in first, ass poised with my too short dress he picked out just beckoning him. I looked over my shoulder but his focus was on his phone again. I had a long ride home ahead of me.

When we finally got home, I chewed my lip as he silently fumbled with the keys to the door. I thought absently about what I’d done. See, I’d never been into the Daddy Kink… Not like my friends. But, Shannon liked it. You could tell by the way he prowled toward me every time I said the forbidden word that it got him hard and a hard Shannon is a happy me. So as we walked through the living room, I tested the word in my head a bit. How to shift it, bend it, whine it and make it sound innocent enough to supercede an apology and get him inside of me. After all, that’s the only reason I danced with… Rob…?Rod…? Roy?

When I snapped out of my thoughts, Shannon was seated behind the drum kit he kept in the living room. I bit my lip as I noticed that he was breathing so heavily with his head bowed that he could’ve been growling silently. His eyes slowly raised and met mine, pitch black and almost terrifying.

“Come here, Princess.” He said and I rushed toward him, the sound of the affectionate nickname making me hopeful that everything was okay. He said nothing as I knelt down beside him and sat cross legged on the floor next to his kit. “You shouldn’t have misbehaved tonight.” His soft voice had a menacing tone in it, one that spoke what his neutral face didn’t. “I didn’t like that too much.”

“I’m sorry, baby. Let me make it up to you.” I grinned as I slid my upper body over his lap and started for his pants. It was to no surprise that his cock leapt forward in his black cotton pants. I knew it. I started for the waist band but he lifted me up by my forearms, swept me up and brought me over to the couch. “Shan—“

“Don’t.” he turned me around, gently pushed me over by my neck and lifted my skirt up. “You don’t ever wear panties around me anymore, do you?” I fought to speak but moaned when he brushed against my already soaked lower lips. My back arched and I begged him wordlessly for more contact. “You know Daddy hates having to discipline you—“ I heard him grab his belt from the couch and a pool of want flowed through me at the thought of the spanking he’d given me last week. “But, I think it makes you wet doesn’t it?” His dark voice was just outside my ear and I squirmed under his clutch. “Doesn’t it?” The leather rubbed against the skin of my ass and I struggled to speak.

“Yes.”

“Yes what, Princess?”

“Yes sir.” I bit out as the first slap coursed through me. The innocent Shannon who liked to cuddle and make cute faces at me in the rear view mirror quickly melted and the animalistic primal beast of a man with a heavy hand and a soft growl appeared.

“Whose is this?” He spanked me between my legs and I cried out. “That’s not my name.” He spanked a little harder and I seized the cushions of the couch between my fingers, holding back my cries of pain and pleasure. “Tell me or I won’t…” He spanked me again before he let go of my neck and grabbed me by my hair, pulling just enough so that I was looking up at him. “Fuck you.”

“Yours. Oh God, it’s yours.”

“No one gets to touch you like this.” The belt fell from his hands and he pushed a finger straight into me. I moaned and shook my head in agreement. “You’re mine Princess. Mine to spoil, to touch, to make cum…” He instrumentally brushed his middle finger against my clit as he continued to finger me and I whined desperately as I tried to urge him with movement to speed up. “Ah, ah. This is punishment.” He said as he pulled his finger out and put it to his lips, sucking in the taste of me. I nearly came undone at the sight.

“Please, Shannon. Please, please, please.” It’d been so long between tour and the dance floor that I didn’t care if I was begging.

“Show me how much you want it.” He pulled at the draw string of his pants and they dropped carelessly to the floor. He let go of my hair and I quickly turned around dropping to my knees and firmly grasping the shaft of his cock in my hands. I stared up at him, adoringly and briefly the hardened face Shannon had learned to make for me crumbled and for a moment he stared at me reverently.

Never jealous. Just willing to play to my every sexual fantasy as if it was his job, his rite, his destiny.

I slowly engulfed the head of his cock and wrapped my lips around it. A groan escaped his chest and I moaned in response as I began to swiftly but thoroughly give him head. Blowjobs were his favorite, and it made him so vocal it turned me on. He grabbed my hair in his hands and pulled me back and forth so that he was controlling the way I sucked him off. I nearly choked as he shoved it down my throat but I held back, allowing him to fuck my mouth to his liking. I looked up, our eyes meeting as he bit his lip and watched me. I moaned against the tip and he quickly pulled me backwards until it fell out of my mouth with a pop.

“Get up here, Princess.” He didn’t waste any time seizing me up by my waist and propping me up on the couch. He grabbed one of my legs, wrapped them around his waist and quickly pushed himself into me. “Whose is it?”

“Yours.” I gasped out as I rushed to wrap my hands around his back, pulling him against me until we were smashed into each other and he was holding us up so we didn’t tumble over the couch. He wasted no time brutally pumping into me, each stroke eliciting a bead of sweat as he concentrated on hitting that spot inside of me hard and deep. I gasped as I reached up and he slapped my hand away, slowly placing his hand at the base of my neck.

“Who makes you come?”

“You do.”

“Whose fucking pussy is this?”

“Oh fuck.” My eyes rolled back and I nearly melted.

“Nu-uh, look at me.” He grabbed my hips and pistoned himself deep, the hard slap of each slow thrust pushing me closer to the edge. “Look at me, or I’ll start this punishment all over again and this time while I’m inside of you.” He slowed down a bit more and I whimpered, not wanting him to stop. I quickly thrust my hips upwards, moaning when he brushed a spot inside of me that made my body clench up entirely, the first sign of an orgasm approaching.

“Shit. Fuck.” He sped up then, his tongue snaking across his lip as he began sloppily thrusting into me.

“Shannon—Shannon—Shit.” I gasped as I lost control and my orgasm washed over me so fast I couldn’t control it.

“FUCK.” He quickly pulled out and spilled himself all over me, groaning as he pushed his forehead to mine and clutching me tightly as his heart pounded in his chest. “You did that on purpose didn’t you?”

“Whaaat?” I tried to play coy but he chuckled as he set me down on the couch and plopped down himself.

“That guy didn’t even look like your type. Not a dominant guy at all.”

“Once upon a time, you weren’t a dominant guy either, Mr. Leto.”

“I guess you brought the animal out in me, huh?” He wrapped his arm around me and I laid my head in the crook of his neck.

“Thanks Daddy.” I kissed the side of his face and he breathlessly laughed one more time before saying—

“Keep it up, we’ll be hitting round two. I can’t promise I won’t bang you right there on my kit.” He jabbed a thumb behind him and I looked over our shoulder at his drums before looking at him.  

[simmonsfam8]

All the emojis for Chris

☝ - How tall are you?

“I'm 6′2″

✔ - Sexual Orientation

“Straight”

🚬 - Do you Smoke?

“Nah I don't anymore.”

🍷 - Do you Drink?

“Sometimes I will yeah but not to the point that I'm fucked up.”

♒ - Do you Take Drugs?

“No, I play Basketball cant fuck around.”

😳 - Age you get mistaken for?

“People definitely get confused that I'm just 20″

💉 - Have Tattoos?

“Yeah, I do my arms and the back of my neck.”

✏️ - Want any tattoos?

“I think I do want more I'm just not sure what honestly.”

✂️ - Got any Piercings?

“I use to have an ear piercing, but it closed up.”

✌ - Want any piercings?

“No that phase of my life is over.”

👌 - Best friend?

“My best friend is actual my sister sad I know.”

♥ - Do you like anyone?

“Yeah, she’s something else.”

🎤 - Top 5 favorite bands?

“I don't have any”

🎶 - Top 5 favorite songs?

“ Girl, Girls, Girls- Jay-Z, That’s what I like-Bruno Mars, Touch the Sky- Kanye West, Houstatlantavegas- Drake, At Your best- Aaliyah.”

😒 - Biggest pet peeve?

“When people don't own up to their shit.”

📝 - Story from your childhood.

“Um, When I found out I was going to have a little brother after having two sisters but then I didn't get to help name him and I stopped talking to everyone in my family for a week...I hold grudges.”

💬 - I wish…‼️ - Something you’ll change?

“I wish some things in my life weren't as complicated but then again I wouldn't be who I am today so.”

💦 - What makes you horny?

“Oh man uhh, when a woman looks sexy as fuck in some lingerie and heels.”

🌟 - A wish you’ll wish for?

“I don't wish for anything.”

🔥 - Something spicy you like?

“Popeye’s spicy chicken I won't fuck with that mild shit.”

👃 You hate the smell of ….

“A musty ass person hygiene my peoples.”

👊 - Something you hate?

“Anyone that disrespect my family.”

🚶 - Are you single?

“No, I'm not.”

💬 - Can we text?

“Sure I'm open to making new friends.”

💍 - Marry me?

“I'm in a relationship.”

💭 - Favorite foods?

“Fried Chicken, Gumbo, Mac n Cheese, I'm listing soul food at this point.”

💘 - Top 5 celebrity crushes?

“Gina Torres, Meagan Good could still get it, Lauren London, Lupita, and Rihanna.”

‘🎥 - Top 5 favorite movies?

“I don't really watch movies like that unless I watch them with someone but my favorite is GoodFellas.”

📺 - Top 5 favorite TV shows?

“Don't watch TV shows.”

✏ - Random fact about yourself.

“I play the drums, and I can sing.”

✈️ - Where are you from?

“Los Angeles”

🚀 - Where do you wanna visit?

“Tokyo that's the only place my family hasn't visited yet.”

😍 - Do you have a crush?

“I do.”

😷 - Something you hate eating?

“I fucking hate broccoli.”

🙈 - What makes you shy?

“I'm not a shy person.”

💃 - Can you dance?

“Of course I can.”

💏 - Do you love anyone?

“Yeah”

👟 - Favorite shoe(s) to wear?

“I'm a Nike Man”

🌴 - An island you would visit?

“I like the family house in Jamaica.”

🌎 - A country you would visit?

“I don't know Ireland?”

🌀 - Favorite type of weather?

“Hoodie weather cant go wrong with that.”

🔮 - Do you believe in luck?

“Sometimes but I do believe in good vibes though.”

📱 - What kinda phone do you have?

“I didn’t get the new iPhone, yet so I just got the 7 still.”

📅 - Favorite time of the year?

“My birthday month December.”

📚 - Career goal you want?

“NBA Player of course.”

🍴 - Favorite food(s) to eat?

“Fruit shockingly.”

🍭 - Favorite Candy?

“Kit Kat”

🍇 - Favorite fruits?

“Watermelon and red grapes.”

🚘 - Dream car(s)?

“My Camaro is my Dream Car, and I love her”

🚔 - Have you ever been arrested?

“ Nope came close though.”

🚑 - Have you ever driven in an ambulance before?

“No don't plan to.”

🎫 - Do you have a license?

“Duh”

🚼 - Do you have or want kids?

“I have a daughter, and she is a blessing but i do want more kids in the far off future though.”

🔞 - Are you under 18?

“Nope”

🐶 - Do you own a pet?

“Yes Diamond she’s a beast.”

😔 - Something that makes you sad?

“Whenever one of my sisters are going through something, but then I get mad because it’s usually someone being an ass to them.”

😡 - What pisses you off?

“A lot of shit does, but I'm such a laid back person that I'm never that pissed off.”

😈 - Are you a freak?

“I might be”

💪 - Do you work out?

“Everyday baby.”

[katiebruce]

year of the wildflower

I can’t believe it’s fucking February and I have yet to sit down and reflect on the end of yet another year. 2018.

Two Thousand and Eighteen.

What a glorious, glorious year you were for me. (It was the ten-year anniversary of 2008 after all, so I probably should have seen that one coming. Hindsight is a fickle beast I’ve yet to learn to tame.)

I started the year off with a lot of newness—preparing to move out of my apartment of seven years, for example.

Though I knew it was time for a new beginning, the months leading up to this move were hard for me. I felt like I was separating myself from some former version of myself; a hermit crab shedding her proverbial shell.

The moment we found Hoegarden, however, I knew it was the right choice.

Only four blocks up the street (a six-minute walk; I timed it) from my old place, it felt like the comfort of home laced with the thrill of a new start.

And so, I packed.

I purged.

And the week before I moved, I flew to India. (I am nothing if not wildly ridiculous at a seemingly predictable rate: life change? Leave the fucking country!)

I have been talking about going to India obsessively since the eleventh grade (I had learned about Holi and became obsessed with Eastern culture quickly after.)

Though I paraded around with arrogance, I was quite intimidated to plan this trip. It was something I don’t think I realized was happening until we had landed, disembarked, and had been rushed into the chaotic Delhi streets at midnight before it really hit me—that I was here, and I couldn’t be afraid.

So, I wasn’t.

I had only one bad experience that night, and I handled it—I learned to say no. As an American, millennial, feminist, I thought this was something I was already good at.

Turns out, I was not.

But I got better. And by the end of my trip, I felt so completely safe, so enamored by the sights, the smells (rich dirt moist with the smell of sweat, the sultry scent of saffron, sweetened candy from the streets…curry!) that I was sad my time was over so soon.

This trip prepared me for Morocco—the adult I had to be, the sticky situations I had to diffuse, middle eastern culture. I wandered those golden, enchanted markets thirsty for authenticity, and I always seemed to find it, for better or for worse.

There was lots of yelling. Lots of jetlag. And lots of running for flights.

But between these two trips, these two monumental events in my life, I walked away and felt growth. I felt proud of where I’d gone and what I’d seen. And that, though I was accompanied by friends (and oh, the friends we made!) I had accomplished this feat mostly alone, planning and ultimately orchestrating both trips by my lonesome, endlessly researching cultural customs, Indian cuisines and transport, Ramadan rules (because we were in Morocco during the holiday) and I had fucking succeeded.

I flew again to London (London, London, London, alwaysLondon) and Scotland and finished up my year by going to Australia.

Five continents in one year.

I spent an entire day running around Jaipur, my phone almost being stolen by a monkey, and I tried to get an Uber in a place where elephants are considered vehicles and you can order a tuk-tuk via the app.

I bathed, fed, and walked a rescued elephant—Chin Chin—and felt her two-ton belly swollen with babies (twins!) as she made me laugh by playing with my hair and squirting water on my head when I wasn’t playing with her.

I was welcomed into the home of strangers and fed a home cooked meal; the best I had in all of India.

I made friends with the soda-shop boys near our palace of an Airbnb and left them with all of my change upon leaving the country. (This would leave me completely screwed at the airport where the vendors did not accept credit cards, but alas—who am I if not starving and stressed about non-reving out of another country?)

I woke up at four in the morning and rode all the way to Agra to bask in the wonderful Taj Mahal. I dipped my toes in it’s gorgeous lakes and dreamt of a love so big someone would construct a monument to celebrate it someday that would put this silly marble slab of stone to shame.

I returned to Spain and wandered the streets of Barcelona and Madrid like a pro; how quickly three years had passed, how recently it seemed upon returning.

We flew down to Morocco and booked a famous riad with a driver and were escorted through the airport like queens (gluttons, really.) We wandered the many rooms of our new home excitedly, pretending to be princesses and bursting into wine-induced fits of laughter when the first Ramadan calls came over the loudspeaker and bellowing down into our open-aired fortress.

We wandered the gardens of Yves Saint Laurent and I impressed Lauren and Beebs with my correct pronunciation of the designer’s name (thanks, Cardi.)

We took a horse drawn carriage through Marrakech and were swindled by henna artists in the streets (it was still worth it.)

We boarded a ten-passenger caravan and took a trek that took us through the northern African mountains, the many small villages and ruins, learned about the art of rug making and sipped on delicious mint tea.

And then I was proposed to. His name was Watik. Once again, I said no. Albeit a more forceful one.

We drove directly into a sand storm and learned how to adorn our heads with a “passport to the desert” to protect us from the harsh conditions.

And then we rode camels through the fucking Sahara Desert.

We camped in giant rooms and dined under the stars (the most delicious of the tangines we had, though it’s honestly hard to pick) and listened to our guides play African drums under the moonlight.

And then we went adventuring into the night.

I remember climbing to the top of a dune, digging my toes deeper into the sand and being amazed at how bright the moonlight shone over the dessert sands.

(We watched the sunrise in the morning, and I was equally in awe of nature’s subtle beauty.)

We wandered the ancient city of Fes with our newly married friends and took in the smells of sweet mint leaf and the curing of animal hyde in the tanneries.

I took a few weeks off traveling and fucking prepared for what would be my mother’s first trip abroad: The UK.

I got to see the excitement fill her eyes upon seeing the London skyline, see some adolescent excitement light up in her upon taking her to her first protest (baby Trump riot—yes, it was as amazing as it looked on television) and watched her fall in love with old, ancient English streets, the ones I’ve loved for so many years, watch her accept my longing, my desire to make this my home, as she fell completely head over heels in love with it, too.

I drank violet gin and watched bagpipers play in the street and climbed to the highest part of Edinburgh just so I could turn around and look down at it in awe.

I watched Paul Simon say farewell, with another 500,000 fans in the royal gardens and wept with emotion when he opened his set with “America.”

I came back and saw Paramore with my strawberry, I saw St. Vincent in all her glory, Twin Peaks and First Aid Kit and even flew to Denver to see Ryan Adams play Red Rocks.

I stressed, a lot.

And yet somehow always made it through.

I celebrated my Dad’s sixtieth birthday and got to finally show him around Chicago, my home, and watch as he pieced together a new aspect of me he never seemed to understand before.

I flew to Denver to meet up with my best friend for a road trip to Salt Lake to see Panic. We cuddled and laughed and jammed and danced under the stars in beautiful Big Sky.

And then there was Australia. Rainy, jungle-esque Australia.

Noodle night in the muddy park and Aussie pizza (twice, because it really was that spectacular.)

Twin Peaks at an abandoned skate-house and teenagers blacking out around us.

Ferry rides hopped up on Nyquil. Books read in cafes.

Beautiful, beautiful Melbourne.

Lauren laughing at me because of fear of all the various vicious birds we encountered. My allergies through the roof, throat closing in the royal gardens.

Not one single fucking kangaroo.

There was San Francisco and fleet week and the Mystic Valley Band at a winery in Sonoma. (The most beautiful sunset I’d ever seen—and that wine!)

I left the country so many times this year with no more than pennies to my name, no place to stay when I landed, nothing but an inspiration and the courage to make myself show up for a flight.

I took myself to the Opera and felt bougie for sipping on black coffee the entire time and sitting alone.

I relaxed.

I found myself hiding away in my new home, no school to attend (because again, I fucking GRADUATED COLLEGE) and no trips to take and I felt… peace.

An old friend came to town and I met up with him for drinks and now Taylor is my boyfriend.

Me; a boyfriend.

Me; in love.

I held his hand at Chriskindel market and consoled him after an eventful first Thanksgiving together. I rubbed my hands through his luscious hair and kissed his forehead where the small patch of gray grows in with the eager fervor of old age. (My old man.)

I let him love me, all of me, and sat back in amazement as I lowered my walls, my protection, and let this one man weasel his way through the booby traps I had planted long before.

(He detonated them all.)

I watched, silently—though often times conflicted—as the light in his eyes grew familiar, listened as his sweet, humble snoring cooed me to sleep.

I fell in love.

And through all of the fantastic adventures 2018 took me, through every corner of the world, I did not know that what I had been looking for all along was him. My love, my prince, my sweet, sincere, annoying, handsome, smart, idiot, adorable boyfriend Taylor.

And now I feel so whole.

2018 was a big year for me—in every way imaginable. I even started grad school (I’m a masochist, I must be). But it was the last year I would be in my twenties.

In February, I turned twenty-nine and began preparing myself for the start of a new decade. I felt unaccomplished and somehow proud of what I’d done—scared yet eager to grow older.

Weeks before my birthday, I marched proudly with thousands of others through the streets of my home, my city, protesting our asshat of a president and the suppression of women’s rights. I remember walking through the streets, sign in hand, feeling like a fully actualized version of myself; I was finally the person I had always wanted to be.

It just took me longer than I had expected to get there.

My twenties were a tumultuous time (something eerily familiar about the terrible two’s, no?)

Where I lost myself and tried on new versions of myself for extended periods of time.

I dropped out of college and worked three jobs.

I moved cross-country with my best friend to live in a big city like I had always wanted to.

I became a flight attendant.

I went back to college and graduated. Then I got into fucking grad school.

I fell in love with four boys: the first, my first. The truest, the purest; a complete and total heartbreak. The second, from afar—that spark, that magnetism—now a friend engaged himself, and I couldn’t be happier for him and his wife-to-be. The third, my German—a wrong fit I tried so desperately to squish into all of my open, healing wounds. And the fourth, my love—my Taylor. My partner.

I slept with some awful people (two; M & T).

And kissed plenty more.

I lost friends I thought I’d never lose and met friends I thought I’d never have.

I discovered what it is to be broke.

Brutally, honestly, broke.

And yet I traveled.

I visited fifteen countries in those ten years and did it all on my own terms. I saw Stonehenge, the Sahara, the Taj Ma-Fucking-Hal, went to Oktoberfest, played Sega in Japan and even saw Alex Turner a whopping four times in one decade. (What a facetious little man.)

I cried in bathroom stalls and did coke in bathroom stalls and danced so much I felt invincible and once upon a time even owned the streets of Ybor.

I did acid on tinder dates and even dated a girl, my only girl, my Kelli.

I watched as my sister got engaged and our little family grew by one.

I lost my Cody, my baby, and felt his spirit in a haunted hotel in South Dakota (hi, baby.)

I wandered many foreign streets and stumbled my way through foreign languages and ordered foreign food I couldn’t pronounce the name of and didn’t like the taste of.

I went to so many concerts I’ll probably be deaf, and probably soon.

I was so surrounded by love and so alone at times I silently cried myself to sleep in a new city.

I cut off my hair, got six tattoos and went to so many different music festivals.

I was wild; I was timid. I was fierce; I was afraid. I was whole; I felt alone.

(Walt Whitman isn’t the only one who can contain multitudes.)

[devils-gatemedia]

The Virginmarys, Florence Black, Disgraceland, Quorum The Junction, Plymouth 24/02/2019

Some nights are all about the wailing guitars. Others focus on soaring vocals. Tonight, in a cracking value bill of four bands at Plymouth’s only real remaining rock venue (thanks to Plymouth City Council, but that is a story for another day), it turned out to be all about those quiet, restrained, sensible chaps at the back; the drummers.

Opening the evening were “the most bang average band you’ll ever hear”, Quorum. Crossing the moors from the rural backwater of Okehampton, they blew away the cobwebs with some high energy Indie rock that quickly won over the crowd. Fronted by Jordan Hookaway (some definite Chester Bennington vibes), flanked by Jake Hodgson on guitar and Noah Groves on bass, they showcased some tracks from upcoming EP “Art Is Dead”. The first of the quartet of impressive sticksmen, Mack Hodgson laid down some intriguing and complex beats. The set was full of sparkle, with a mix of covers and their own, already mature-sounding, material. Check out “Longer” and “Headstrong” when the EP lands in early April.

I recognised most of the next band up on stage from a previous gig at The Junction when they supported The Picturebooks, but this is a different vehicle. Described as “Plymouth’s filthiest band”, Disgraceland’s set was rock and roll in it’s most down-to-earth, ballsy form, with no messing about. Loud, fast, and fun, they ripped through their set of wonderfully titled tracks (“Best Little Doggie In Town”, “100% Cunt” and “Just Some Fucking Words”, for example) all joined together with amusing (and generally foul-mouthed) banter. The photos tell the story better than words, and give an idea of just how much fun they are to watch, especially with a hair-flailing, tattooed, racing snake-figured, crazy, smashing-the-bejesus-out-of-his-kit man at the back.

I first saw Florence Black at Steelhouse a couple of years ago; drawn to them by the patronage of Skindred’s Benji Webbe, and then by the quality of the set they delivered. I also love the reason for the band’s name (Google is your friend) and the Welsh heritage it celebrates, so I was really looking forward to their set tonight. I was definitely not disappointed!

Opening with “Ghost”, the trio took us through a set of crushing power from the heavier end of the spectrum. The phrase “Power Trio” could have been written for these three. Tristan’s guitar is full and heavy, his solos rip through your ears, his vocals gruff and raw. Fozzi’s bass links the rhythm and lead lines almost as a second guitar, and behind them, drummer Perry lures you into a false sense of security with what sounds impressive, but turns out to be relatively restrained skin-thumping. Sweat flies, hair swirls, Fozzi’s face is occasionally visible, but usually hidden beneath his curly mop, and each song seems to get louder, heavier, and better received by the rapt crowd.

The art of a good set is to keep the energy rising, and this is a masterclass as the band take us through “Fiesta”, “The Ride”, “Same Again”, “Smoke”, and “Johnny” (why waste riff writing time on long titles?). It’s the set closer that rips the venue in two though. A cover of Budgie’s “Breadfan” that is incendiary. Remember that “false sense of security” with the drums? It is like someone has released the beast as Perry absolutely batters his kit. The last notes die away and there is a moment or two of silence, followed by a visible, unanimous “wow” from the slightly shell shocked crowd as Florence Black leave the stage.

Usually the stage set up for a band is fairly standard. Drums at the back, guitar one side, bass the other, singer (if there is one) up front. The Virginmarys pretty much lay the stage out in a straight line, with the drums much more prominent. As soon as they take the stage, it becomes clear why. Danny Dolan has to be the most impressive drummer I have ever watched at such close quarters. His arm is strapped with tape. His fingers are strapped and plastered. His seat sits at in improbable height looming above the kit and, rather than a drum for every possible use, his kit is fairly minimal. The rhythms and stick tricks are stunning though. From lightning fast rolls and trills, to battering the kit with crushing power. Standing, sitting, looming over the kit… it is almost impossible to take your eyes off his performance.

The Virginmarys are about much more than Dolan though. On his flanks are two other superb musicians, the three of them playing a brand of music that is impossible to categorise, but immensely involving. They present a ferocious trio. Flying through songs at a terrific rate. Ally Dickaty isn’t a leaping, posing frontman. Instead, his peroxide blonde hair and piercing eyes lend him a more messianic quality at the mic. Ross Massey plays a bass rhythm as imposing as his physical stature. It’s muscly and powerful, and complements the rhythms driven forward by Dolan perfectly.

The set is full of crowd pleasers, and although the crowd isn’t the biggest they will have played to, it was full of dancing and moshing as their performance went down a storm. The Virginmarys were even joined on stage during one song by a particularly keen fan for some cowbell. In a set of so many songs, it is hard sometimes to pick stand out moments, but opener “Get Me Back Home” with it’s sleazy guitar, “Motherless Land”, the superb “Bang Bang Bang” and the speedy “Just ARide” have all wormed their way onto my car journey playlist.

The controlled violence of Dolan’s drumming was shown in a photo released a day later, showing broken sticks and a drum skin showered with droplets of blood. Sums their set up perfectly for me!

Review and pics: Rob Wilkins

Review: The Virginmarys – Junction, Plymouth The Virginmarys, Florence Black, Disgraceland, Quorum The Junction, Plymouth 24/02/2019 Some nights are all about the wailing guitars.

[maryseward666]

DEVILDRIVER Guitarist Thinks It's 'Silly' When Metal Bands Cover Metal Songs

RARE BLACK METAL COLLECTIBLES

Sergio of Music Existence conducted an interview with DEVILDRIVER guitarist Mike Spreitzer prior to the band's October 18 show at the Culture Room in Fort Lauderdale, Florida as the support act for SUPERJOINT. You can watch the entire chat below. A few excerpts follow (transcribed by BLABBERMOUTH.NET). On the touring cycle for 2016's "Trust No One": Mike: "It's the first time, I think, we've ever put out a record where we actually are playing three songs. Not on this part, but on the first part of the tour when we were headlining, we were playing three new songs, which I don't think we've ever done before when we first had a record out. It could be a good sign of people liking the record. The record, to me, it seems kind of old. We do have another one coming out first quarter next year. It's a covers record. My part of the record, me and Neal [Tiemann, guitar] worked on it together. We did guitars and bass together. We re-wrote all of these outlaw country songs. It took about two months to get that done, then we did drums. It's getting mixed right now by [producer] Steve Evetts. I haven't heard any mixes yet, but it should be coming in pretty soon." On DEVILDRIVER's approach to covering outlaw country songs: Mike: "We don't like being a metal band that covers metal songs. I think that's just silly. We've covered, we did 'Holier Than Thou' by METALLICA and we did 'Wasted Years' by IRON MAIDEN. I'm kind of indifferent about the songs. I'm not much of an IRON MAIDEN fan; I'm a huge METALLICA fan. There's a country band called 16 HORSEPOWER. We did a song called 'Black Soul Choir' by them on our album 'Beast'. That came out really cool. [DEVILDRIVER's rendition of] 'Sail', by AWOLNATION, it's kind of a bittersweet thing, it's become our most popular song. I guess people like things that are familiar. But we had a meeting in the back of the bus a few tours ago, the whole band. We sat down and made a list of twenty or thirty songs that we could possibly put on this next record. Then Neal and I just sat down and separately, just started re-writing them on our own. Then, we got together, did some final touches on them, then did the whole process over again with guitars and bass and finalizing everything. I think we did thirteen and we're going to release twelve. We got a lot of guests on it. Randy [Blythe] from LAMB OF GOD is one of them." On working with the band's newest members Tiemann, drummer Austin D'Amond and bassist Diego "Ashes" Ibarra: Mike: "I was a little reluctant to work with the new members at first. This is no secret, but Neal and Austin came over to my house and auditioned at my studio at the same time. Obviously, Austin couldn't bring a drum kit in there, so he just air-drummed everything, but I had seen enough videos online of him doing drum solos. He came really highly recommended by our producer, Mark Lewis. I trust Mark. If Mark said he could do it and he's an awesome dude, that's good enough for me. Neal came over and played 'Dead To Rights' for me, which is one of our harder songs to play. It took literally one day of us getting together, spending some time in the studio, writing and it was instant chemistry. It was good. And, it was a really fun record to write, 'Trust No One'. I had a lot of fun doing 'Outlaws Till The End' as well. They're just really good dudes. The old guys from DEVILDRIVER, too. I'm still really good friends with all of them. Chris [Towning, bass], 'Bubble' [Aaron Patrick, bass], [Jon] Miller [bass], [John] Boecklin [drums], [Jeff] Kendrick [guitar], all of them. Boecklin really wanted to do his own band and he's doing it right now. They're called BAD WOLVES. They've only played one show at the moment. They're up to something right now. I think they're recording. We should see something from them early next year as well. We all keep in contact. Jeff didn't want to tour anymore. He's since gotten more into the real estate game, but I still love touring, man. Dez [Fafara, vocals] was worried that I was getting ready to do something else. No. [Laughs] I very well might be a lifer. I like being on the road. I like touring. I like being in a different place every day. I kind of like the chaos of everything. It just suits my lifestyle, I guess." On his approach to constructing both the outlaw country covers and recent DEVILDRIVER songs: Mike: "The new record, there was writing, but there wasn't. We basically followed the structures of the songs. Sometimes we added some intros, added some outros, we added some solos in some places. Some songs actually don't sound anything like the original, except for the vocal content. When we started writing or re-writing, I should say, I had a tendency to stick more with the melodies of the actual song and Neal had a tendency to kind of go off to right field a little bit with his writing. We did 'Whiskey River' by Willie Nelson. There's not really a whole lot there. We had to get creative. 'Okay, what are we going to do to make it metal?' It was a cool process for me. Gutting all of these songs and looking at how they're structured made me realize that I had kind of gotten stuck in a rut as far as structuring the songs in some ways. I deliberately went out of my way to try to structure songs differently on 'Trust No One' here and there, especially on the opening track, 'Testimony Of Truth'. Doing this covers record has definitely taken it a little further. On the next record, you're going to see some different structures and things that might seem a little bit unorthodox to DEVILDRIVER. But, maybe people won't even notice. The listeners don't have a tendency to dissect the songs the way the writer does." "Outlaws Till The End" is tentatively due in early 2018 and will feature appearances by nearly two dozen high-caliber guests, among them Glenn Danzig, Burton C. Bell (FEAR FACTORY) and guitarists John 5 (ROB ZOMBIE) and Mark Morton (LAMB OF GOD).

[Read More ...]

MY BLOG: http://www.rockoutwithyourcockout.com/

from Rock Out With Your Cock Out http://www.blabbermouth.net/news/devildriver-guitarist-thinks-its-silly-when-metal-bands-cover-metal-songs/ via IFTTT

[trippin-roads]

15/03 - Follow the River North

As we turned West, leaving that city delta behind, we kept our eyes from flicking backwards for fear of them reminding us that we didn’t want to leave. This was a road trip after all and it was time to follow the magnetic needle. The Great Mississippi would be our parallel partner and we gunned the rental toward her, out over the suspended I-10 that flew above the swamp below. A couple early wrong turns gave us a detour into Eastern Baton Rouge. Poverty was a blanket over that historic battlefield, and rusting garages acted as caves for old road beasts that were now beaten and rusted to stillness. 

Once we found the correct road again we settled into the long drive ahead, passing into Mississippi and it’s varied landscape. Logging roads bypassed tall forest and small towns with white boarded churches. The flag of the United States hung out on all porches and often replaced by the older confederate rag. 

This all made way eventually to a flatness I’d never experienced. Hours of big sky but no horizon. The road, no longer a highway, wound its way much like that giant neighbouring river. The main form of entertainment (for us and the locals) were the small aircraft that buzzed around taking flight from the farming airfields. 

Some hours later, the Earth had turned on its own journey and we pulled into Clarkesdale in magic hour light. A small town with some big stories. This was the home of Muddy Waters and the blues were here still, being lived by it’s residents. Next to the old freight station, that is now the Delta Blues Museum, we were lured by a neon sign. Ground Zero. A music venue and hotel, Ground Zero is where we’d spend the night. We were taken on a tour of every room by the enthusiastic bar lady (they were obviously quiet for the night);

“Now, this is Morgan’s room. This is w’ere he stays when he stays here...” *note - Ground Zero is owned by Morgan Freeman.  

“His wife, she's a gorgous lady, she picks out all the furniture. It is all vintage! Come this way now... This room we call the tiger room, it’s got tiger print on everything... Now this way now!” 

And so we proceeded into seven other rooms of varying styles, decorated in chic vintage furniture and design. The large corridor connecting them all was a complete scrawl of marker pen graffiti. This started from our rooms doorhandle, all the way to the chair legs of the seats we took in the bar downstairs. The cavernous bar was totally covered and it seemed it was encouraged for every guest to leave their own contribution, which we did at several points in the night. Now the music being played that night was championed by a frighting force of a women. A talented keyboard player for sure (although she did look as if she was casting spells on her enemies). She ruled over the three young men that made up her band like a tyrant, often insulting them over the microphone and openly telling them off in front of the small crowd. We were released from this slightly awkward show when a friend of Gracie’s, who knew we were in Clarksdale, sent us word to leave Ground Zero at once and find a small beaten bar known as Reds. 

We found this tiny venue not two streets over, with a giant old dormant smoker parked out the front. Unsure whether it was open we tried the door behind which was a shabby santa’s grotto. Christmas lights were zigzagged sparsely providing one of the few sources of light. A young kid was taking the cover charge and the tight room had a few local folk grumbling conversation. An old women watched sports on a television set that must have been twenty years old. The bar sold bottles of Heineken only, which we enjoyed while taking in the rest of Reds. After sometime of wondering if we’d been had, and in fact there was no music on that evening, the old navy boy we’d been sharing a cigarette with in the back room, thanked us for the conversation but informed us he had to play the rest of his set. He was the bass player. Ears pricked, we followed him back into the music cave. The kid from the door settled behind the drum kit and a shadow moved from the corner. A man who’s age was hard to determine. What followed was blues. Blues like you can only experience from people still living it, and you could hear it. 

[devils-gatemedia]

Big Hamish the border guard must have been having a sly puff on his e-cig behind the sentry hut in Gretna. That’s the only explanation for the Planet Rock sponsored raiding party that somehow managed to evade the elite of the elite and make its way North undetected. With South Wales noise merchants Those Damn Crows opening the show, followed by English co-headliners The Bad Flowers and Federal Charm, this was new British Rock with its kegs down for all to see. Still think that Planet Rock missed a trick though by not throwing a Scottish and Irish act into the mix. What a story that would have been.

With their Earache Records debut, ‘Murder And The Motive’, set for imminent release, momentum is gathering for Those Damn Crows. The early curfew means only one thing… early doors, and the five piece take to the stage at a ridiculously early time. Despite the early start, there is a decent sized crowd in place when vocalist Shane Greenhall leads the charge on ‘Don’t Give A Damn’.

The first noticeable thing is that Those Damn Crows might be the opening act, but they have brought one hell of a cheering section along with them. Branded T-shirts are in abundance, and each song is met with a vociferous roar from a crowd that know the lyrics and don’t mind singing along. The next noticeable thing is that these Welsh lads can play a bit. Greenhall is an ultra-confident frontman, and spends most of the short set on the front foot, or in this case a small riser placed in front of the floor level stage. He’s never off it as he conducts the crowd on the absolutely massive ‘Someone Someday’ and ‘Blink Of An Eye’, to name just two bangers in their arsenal. The hardcore ‘Crows fans are lapping it up and bouncing along with Greenhall on ‘Rock ‘n’ Roll Ain’t Dead!’. The frontman ends the set by getting the crowd to clear a path, before launching himself off stage and up the stairs to the merch desk. In fact, Greenhall didn’t stop running as he ended up across the road in Glasgow Central train station, playing ‘Blink Of An Eye’ on the piano in the concourse! What a start to the evening. The gauntlet was well and truly thrown down.

With the act that closes the evening rotating nightly, it was Midlands trio The Bad Flowers that picked up that gauntlet, and turned up the volume at the same time. Christ, they are bloody loud! For a three piece, they don’t half fill the room with their own brand of raw and heavy blues-based rock n’ roll.

At times, the jams get Sabbath sized. In no way does vocalist/guitarist Tom Leighton sound like Ozzy, but when he locks into a groove with bassist Dale Tonks and drummer Karl Selickis, then you might just get more than a hint of the black country legends. Selickis is a beast behind the kit, and on several occasions I find myself watching him in action, recalling grainy black and white footage of a young Bill Ward. When I say several occasions, I mean the times that the stage was not illuminated in a solid wall of red lights. I know the venue was a porn movie theatre in past decades, but that’s no reason to make it look like a backstreet knocking shop by bathing it in red lights!

With a set time of sixty minutes, The Bad Flowers wasted no time with idle chit-chat, instead letting the music do the talking. Current album ‘Starting Gun’ is a belter, and if I can count, then ten of the eleven tracks on the album were aired tonight. ‘Hurricane’ and ‘Lions Blood’ had the air guitarists on the front row springing into action. Bladdered or not, the pair could certainly pull the shapes with the best of them. One of them even changed instruments halfway through the show, swapping his air guitar for… air drums. Hey, they were having fun, so more power to them.

‘Let’s Misbehave’ is the epic moment on the album, and live it grew wings and stretched out with an almighty jam. Leighton strapped on a gorgeous Flying V for the closing salvo of ‘Thunder Child’, ‘Rich Man’, and ‘City Lights’, before ending the set shredding away in amongst the crowd. A mighty fine hour of riff-laden, groove-a-licious bluesy rock that ticked all the right boxes.

Closing out the show were the the very dapper Mancunians, Federal Charm. Suited and booted, the band drink from the same well as Rival Sons; blues-influenced but with a modern approach. They’ve also had a bit of a line-up change, in case you hadn’t noticed. Joining original members Paul Bowe on guitar and bassist L.D. Morawski, are new drummer Josh Zahler, and new singer, Tom Guyer. With Mark helping out on guitar and keyboards, the end result brings a new dynamic to the Federal Charm sound. Guyer has an impressive range which helps the band massively through this transitional period.

New album ‘Passenger’ has just been released, and Federal Charm are keen to get their new sound across. ‘Swing Sinner’ opens said album and also kicks off tonight’s hour long set. “Swing” is a very apt word, as this sucker swings like the udders on the biggest, baddest cow on the block. The music takes over Guyer and he moves like a man making toast in the bath! By the end of the set, he is drenched in sweat having given everything he has.

‘Passenger’ is a varied album, and it’s pleasing to see that this transfers well live. ‘Death Rattle’ shimmers in a haze of atmospheric lead guitar from Bowe, and simple (but effective) drumming from Zahler. It’s more experimental than you would expect from the Federal Charm of old, and it’s good to see Bowe growing as a lead guitarist. ‘Nowhere Is Home’ has a fantastic modern sound that wouldn’t be out of place on the playlists of daytime radio stations up and down the country. Then there is the more traditional bluesy influence on ‘Speak Out’ and ‘Get Through’.

Peppered throughout the set are moments when Federal Charm revisit previous albums, from before Guyer signed on. ‘Guess What’, ‘Master Plan’, ‘Silhouette’ and a powerful version of ‘Gotta Give It Up’ all sound fresher, and while there are a few rough edges still to be rounded off, Federal Charm are going in the right direction.

The Planet Rock sponsored tour ends September 29th in Birmingham. Three cracking, and varied, young British bands, out there treading the boards ensuring that thing we all love keeps going for a few more years at least. Remaining tour dates here.

Review: Dave S

Images: Dave J

Review: Federal Charm/The Bad Flowers – Glasgow Big Hamish the border guard must have been having a sly puff on his e-cig behind the sentry hut in Gretna.