#mind funk band

[wakeupandsmellthecarcass]

Some good grunge songs I like♡

[leonardcohenofficial]

literally what did those scottish boys put in this album for real

[musicmags]

[metal-sludge]

STEVIE RACHELLE and MICHAEL LEAN of TUFF (1985 - present) review music videos from fellow bands including MEGADETH, SLAUGHTER, WARRANT, and DEEP PURPLE in HIT PARADER, September 1991.

[doyoulikethissong-poll]

The Prodigy - Smack My Bitch Up 1997

"Smack My Bitch Up" is a song by English electronic dance music band The Prodigy. It was released in November 1997 as the third and final single from their third album, The Fat of the Land (1997). In 2013, Mixmag readers voted it the third greatest dance track of all time. The song caused considerable controversy because of its suggestive title and explicit music video. The video, directed by Jonas Åkerlund, was rarely seen on television due to its controversial subject matter. It was filmed entirely in first-person perspective and depicts a drug-and-alcohol-fueled night out through the eyes of a mostly-unseen character, and utilises different camera movements corresponding with the protagonist's altered state of mind. Despite the controversy, the video was nominated for four awards in the 1998 MTV Video Music Awards, and eventually won Best Dance Video and Breakthrough Video. In 2010, the song was voted as the most controversial song of all time in a survey conducted by PRS for Music.

The lyrics "Change my pitch up/Smack my bitch up" are sampled and altered from the song "Give the Drummer Some" by the Ultramagnetic MCs. The female vocals were performed by Shahin Badar. Her vocals and harmonies are based on "Nana (The Dreaming)" performed by Sheila Chandra. Initially Liam Howlett used a direct sample of Chandra's song, but later had the vocal resung after sample clearance issues. The track also contains samples from "Funky Man" by Kool & the Gang, "In Memory Of" by Randy Weston, "House of Rising Funk" by Afrique, "Like This" by Mixmaster Gee and the Turntable Orchestra and "Bulls on Parade" by Rage Against the Machine.

In the UK the song peaked at number 8, ultimately spending 16 weeks in the top 100, despite limited air time. The song reached the top 15 in several countries, such as Canada, New Zealand, Norway, and Sweden. The song performed best in Finland, securing the band their third Finnish number 1 hit alongside "Firestarter" and "Breathe" (poll #112). It peaked at number 22 in the Netherlands, 41 in Australia, and 89 in the US. The single also returned to the Billboard charts after Keith Flint's death, entering number 23 on its Dance/Electronic Digital Songs Sales chart in March 2019.

The song appeared in a fight scene in the 2000 film Charlie's Angels. In 2020, a cutscene in the game Cyberpunk 2077 had a corresponding song on the soundtrack titled "Smack My Chip Up". Released the same year, Assassin's Creed Valhalla includes a sidequest called "The Prodigy", where the player character boxes a clergyman, prompting a character named Keith to sing "Smack my bishop!"

"Smack My Bitch Up" received a total of 57,2% yes votes! Previous Prodigy polls: #8 "No Good (Start the Dance)", #112 "Breathe". (Maxim & Skin: #245 "Carmen Queasy")

[kittenintheden]

I love your style of writing!! I like how you also take suggestions and I may have one I’d love to see you expand on: Astarion misses the act of eating and is enthralled by F Tav when he watches her eat. He wants to seduce her and gain her trust - he gathers a selection of good foods - fruits, berries, chocolate, cheese, magic ice. Finds her reading aloud to a wild animal a kind of respite for her. He takes to listening to her read. That’s how they hone their relationship then he brings the food on one such meeting. Turns to kissing. Hot stuff ensues lol Thank you for indulging me.

hi <3 thanks for helping me out of a writing funk. I hope you enjoy this treat ^_^

Wanna Give You My Sugar, Baby

Rating: E (18+) Pairing: Astarion/F!Tav Word Count: 5565 Content: 18+, oral sex, PIV sex, food play, blood drinking, Astarion being Astarion

AO3 Link

***

He isn’t sure exactly when it happens, but happen it does.

The first few weeks are a cavalcade of escalating absurdity. Mind flayer tadpoles, bickering druids, disgusting goblin camps, hags, memphits, frogs that pack a wallop they have no business packing. The list goes on and on.

And yet, as their merry band progresses through the horrors, something shifts in him. Necessity becomes hesitant companionability. Threats become less threatening with people fighting at his side. A veneer of seduction becomes something uncomfortably close to… friendship.

When they cross the threshold of relative safety to head into the Shadow-Cursed Lands at last, Astarion’s nearly looking forward to the adventure. It’s strange to be in the presence of people who not only tolerate him, but almost seem to enjoy his company, even when that company doesn’t involve him putting out.

Not that he didn’t try, of course. The lady-wizard, Antava, had seemed an ideal candidate for separation from the herd, yet she didn’t rise to his flirtations. They didn’t go over her head, of that he’s certain. Nonetheless, her knowing smile stayed kind as she declined his invitation. He’d never admit it to anyone – barely admits it to himself – but it stung. A little.

He hates losing. There’s been too much loss in his life.

But it hardly matters. Turns out he didn’t need to seduce a protector, after all. The clowns he runs with protect him for free. Odd, but he’ll take it.

As his guard drops, inch by painstaking inch, topics beyond his mere continued survival begin taking up more space in his mind.

Topics like Tav’s mouth.

Tonight, a significant portion of their troupe finishes up their evening meal near the fire. Astarion sits companionably nearby while the others eat, smirking over his cup of bad wine and offering the occasional judgement. He’s giving a high laugh at one of his own jokes when he looks to the side and catches the moment Antava – Tav, now – lifts a strawberry to her lips. Her eyes are closed as she bites into the fruit, her lips stained the faintest red as they stretch into a delighted smile.

Astarion pauses to admire the sight. It’d be rude not to. It’s a very nice mouth. Aesthetically speaking. Slightly bowed at the top, a plush lower lip with a barely-there dimple, and a very small scar bisecting her lip line. His brow knits. He hadn’t noticed that before.

Tav’s eyes sparkle as she finishes her bite and opens her eyes to meet his. She swallows and says, “What?”

“I was just…” Astarion waves his cup toward her. “I just noticed that scar on your lip. Story to share with the group, dear?”

She laughs brightly and brings her fingers to the mark near the corner of her mouth. Astarion feels the urge to mirror the touch on his own. Instead, he brings the wine to his lips. It’s acrid. Sour. Like everything else.

Tav says, “Nothing exciting or scandalous, I’m afraid. My brother’s pet budgie bit me when I was nine. I was trying to teach it to give kisses.”

Astarion blinks and stares a moment. A short laugh bursts from him. Then another.

“Budgie bite?” he says through an incredulous grin.

Tav shrugs. “Budgie bite.”

“Pathetic,” Astarion scoffs teasingly, taking another drink.

She grumbles at him a moment before reaching out to pluck another berry from their shared platter. Astarion glances to the side to watch it disappear past her lips.

What did berries taste like?

He can’t remember.

***

Tav eats with enthusiasm, and now that he’s noticed it, he can’t un-notice it.

When they’ve been on the road a while, she’ll reach into her pack and produce an apple or a small wrapped bit of cheese and bread. The simplest things, yet as he watches her, he sees the way she relishes every bite. Tastes it. Experiences it.

She sinks her teeth into the apple’s flesh with an audible snap, taking a bite into her mouth and chewing slowly, the tip of her pink tongue poking out to lick the juice dripping down the side of her hand.

He manages to catch himself before he runs headlong into a knot of strangling vines. Barely.

One morning a few days later, Halsin’s produced a coveted bit of honey from his pack and Tav is drizzling a spoonful into the tea Shadowheart brewed at the fire. Astarion pauses in oiling his blade hilts to observe her draw her tongue over the back of her spoon, the sticky golden honey coming away, held in her mouth for a marvelous moment.

He clears his throat and examines the dagger balanced in his palm.

Sweet tooth, he thinks as he wipes a soft cloth over the blade.

Then there’s the day they help an infuriatingly chipper family of halflings escape a grisly fate at the business end of a Razorvine Blight and part of their reward is a precious package of stick candy enchanted with multicolored, multiflavored stripes.

He doesn’t think much of it until the moment Tav takes one from the little wrapped bundle after supper, pulling the red-swirled candy out and admiring it with childlike glee before she puts the end in her mouth and closes her eyes in rapturous delight. Astarion watches her pink lips close around the stick, the candy disappearing centimeter by centimeter. He pictures the length of it running over her tongue and is alarmed to feel a pang of envy.

Envious of candy.

Candy that gets to know the soft heat of her mouth, the velvet touch of her tongue. He can’t stop the rising image of those same lush lips closing around his-

“Astarion?” someone says from behind his left shoulder.

“Hm?” he responds, twisting to look around and casually leaning against the nearest crate with what he’s sure is believable nonchalance.

Wyll approaches with goblet in hand and tilts his head in concern. It’s taken him some time to learn to live with his new horns, but they suit him well. At this point, it’s like they’ve always been part of him.

“Are you feeling well?” Wyll asks. “Not peckish?”

Astarion snorts a laugh. “Not especially. Why? Are you offering, you generous thing?”

While Tav was the first to offer him a bite on that ill-fated night not so very long ago, the party has since taken it upon themselves to make routine donations to keep him fed. Though they all seem to prefer the vein-to-cup method, which is incredibly disappointing.

Wyll chuckles. “If you need it. I ask because you’re staring rather wolfishly.”

“At what?” Astarion responds without a thought.

With an arched brow, Wyll shifts his gaze to look over Astarion’s shoulder. Though he knows exactly what he’ll find there, Astarion looks anyway, and sure enough Tav has worked her stick candy to a fine point, lips and tongue stained prominently red, the sight of which is causing the strangest reaction in his gut. His throat bobs.

He turns back to Wyll. “Can you blame a man for enjoying a show? Now, if you’ll excuse me.”

As he walks off, Wyll says, “You know, the other day I overheard Tav mention to Karlach that she’d take on an owlbear all by herself for a bit of chocolate. It seems to be a favorite. Maybe the merchant we passed earlier knows where to find some.”

Astarion stops and turns his head to one side, frowning. “Okay? And?”

Wyll lifts the corner of his mouth in a slight smile. “Just thought you might be interested to know.”

“I’m not.”

“All right. Enjoy your evening.” Wyll raises his glass and moves to leave.

Astarion shifts his weight from foot to foot. Wyll gets three steps before Astarion sighs and says, “Which merchant?”

***

The merchant Wyll recommended does not have any sweets, it turns out. But she points Astarion in the direction of a traveling trader who happens to be holed up at the Last Light Inn, waiting until it’s safe enough to move on.

That man does have a bit of special stock. For a price.

“Ten gold?” Astarion sneers incredulously. “Are you mad?”

The vendor shrugs. “It’s a real specialty product. I’ve no idea when I’ll be able to get more. Got a business to run. You understand.”

Astarion scoffs and folds his arms. “Robbery is what it is, and I won’t be party to it.” He sniffs and looks to one side. Then back again. “I’ll give you six.”

With a smirk, the half-orc says, “You might talk me into eight.”

“Seven,” Astarion counters, placing a hand on a tavern table and leaning forward.

“Nah,” the vendor says as he flips a silver into the air and catches it. “I can find someone willing to pay more’n eight.”

“I will give you eight if…” Astarion raises a finger to point toward the man’s face. “... if you throw in a lockpick.”

He gives a rumbling laugh. “All right, you caught me in a good mood. Deal.”

Astarion hands over the gold and the merchant hands over a lockpick and a packet of melting chocolate.

The vendor flicks his eyes up and gives Astarion a parting nod as he counts the coins. “What’s the occasion?”

“Oh, sex,” Astarion says, waving the packet through the air with a flourish. “Was that not obvious?”

The man gives him a look up and down. Then he shrugs and says, “Fair enough.”

***

How does one melt chocolate without burning it? This is not a skill he’s ever had reason to acquire. Never had the opportunity, really. Cacao was mainly used to make a bitter drink when he was young. This whole… chocolate thing is a relatively new development.

“Certainly I’ll regret asking, but dare I wonder what ill-fated task you’re attempting?” Gale asks as he approaches Astarion warily.

Astarion looks up mid-act, his hand hovering over a small clay jar containing a small bit of his overpriced chocolate. “Playing with fire, what does it look like?” he responds.

“Ignis,” he mutters, sending a small bolt of flame into the jar, which instantly disintegrates the chocolate and also superheats the vessel.

“Gods damn it,” Astarion curses, dropping the jar and shaking out his burnt hand.

Gale looks at him like he’s just tried to tear up a spell scroll. “Where on the material plane did you learn that horrific cantrip form?”

“Oh, piss off,” Astarion sneers, still clutching his hurt fingers. “It comes naturally.”

“Natural as an avalanche,” Gale says as he shoos him away from the jar. He crouches down and holds a hand over it to test its heat, then allows cooling magic to pool in his palm before he reaches out to touch it. “There’s absolutely no delicacy to your somatics.”

“Listen, you smug spellnag,” Astarion says, pointing at Gale with his good hand. “There is only delicacy in my somatics.”

Gale flicks his hand in dismissal. “If you’re trying to heat the clay gently, a gentle hand is required. Manipulate the Weave as an artisan, pulling only the thread you need.”

The wizard’s eyes focus on the vessel and he speaks under his breath, whispering, “Ignis parvas.” When he does, the hand holding the jar glows with orange light, lighting the clay. A moment later, all goes dark.

“There you are,” Gale says, holding it out.

Astarion squints at Gale, then at the jar. He gingerly reaches out to take it and finds it very warm, but not painful, to the touch.

“Huh,” Astarion says, looking it over. “How long will it stay like this?”

Gale rocks back and forth on the balls of his feet, looking very pleased with himself. “A good four hours or so, I should think. What plans have you for your new heated jar?”

“That,” Astarion says as he takes a step backward. “Is no business of yours. Cheers.”

With a put-upon sigh, Gale waits a moment before calling after him, “Could I at least have some of the chocolate you were destroying?”

“No,” Astarion says cheerfully, offering a wave over one shoulder.

***

Now that he’s standing near her tent with a satchel full of chocolate and berries, Astarion realizes he doesn’t exactly have a plan. He’s not even sure when he made the decision to take another pass at Tav. It seemed for a time like something might be blooming between her and Shadowheart, but the moment appears to have passed.

What is he doing here?

Astarion’s brow knits together and he tightens his grip on the strap of his pack. There’s no reason to do this. Is there? He doesn’t need protection like he once did.

But… it couldn’t exactly hurt, could it? To have a little insurance policy in place, just in case?

He stands up straight and puts on his best smile. No. It couldn’t hurt. At bare minimum, he gets to watch her eat his treat, and that seems worth the price of admission.

As he reaches her tent flap, she chooses that moment to step out and startles a bit when she spots him.

“Gods, you spooked me,” she laughs, hand to her fluttering heart. “You’re so quiet.”

“By design, darling,” he says, tilting his head just so. “You’re just the person I’d hoped to run into.”

“Yeah?” she says, gathering up her hair in one hand and pulling it over a shoulder. “You were hoping to jump out of the shadows and give me a fright?”

Like a glove, he slips right into his most comfortable role. His chuckle goes dark, his voice dropping into a purr. “I can think of a lot of things that are much more fun to do in the shadows than cause someone a fright.” A pause. “Although the look on your face was very funny.”

She gives him a calculating look, a slight smirk on her face. “Okay, I’ll bite. Like what?”

“A bite is one option,” he lilts. “Or several, if you’d like.”

She gives him an affectionate eyeroll, still smiling.

“Specifically,” he continues as he holds up his satchel. “I thought you might like to join me on a stroll and enjoy some provisions I managed to scrounge up. Strawberries…”

That gets her attention. He grins wide enough to show the points of his teeth and reaches into his satchel to produce a jar.

“... and chocolate.”

With a gasp, Tav reaches for it, giving a small yelp when she finds the jar warm to the touch. He offers it again and she takes it carefully, letting it warm her skin in the freezing depth of the caves they’re bunking in. Her eyes are wide with wonder as she brings it close to her face, examining it. She looks at him, awestruck.

“Hot chocolate? You found hot chocolate?” she says.

He plucks it back from her hands and stashes it away. “Perhaps. Would you care to sneak away with me and find out? I’ve found the loveliest cavern a little farther in. We could take some time to ourselves. Indulge in… whatever we like.”

The expression on her face is inscrutable. Astarion’s throat bobs. Shit. Did he overplay his hand?

As if he imagined it, her thoughtful look is replaced with another impish smirk. “Well, at the very least, I’ll get chocolate. I’m in.”

He releases a slow breath and smolders at her as he holds out an arm. “Shall we?”

They maneuver through a well-worn cavern path and Astarion feels the heat of the jar through his satchel and shirt, warming the center of his back as they walk.

***

Astarion has been known to stretch the truth to suit his needs, but in this instance, he’d spoken the truth plainly: he had indeed found a lovely little cavern for an impromptu picnic in the Shadowlands.

Tav gasps aloud as they enter the space and are met with glittering crystals glowing with natural magic embedded in the walls, creating a space that could only really be said to set a mood.

Astarion feels a self-satisfied smile pull at his mouth as she spots the blanket he’s laid out. She pauses only a moment before walking over and sinking onto it, turning to look over her shoulder at him invitingly.

Too easy. Always so easy.

But that’s the point, isn’t it?

He swallows and joins her, shrugging off the pack and handing it over to her as he lounges on one side, making sure to arrange himself so the laces of his shirt fall open to reveal some chest. All his best moves.

And he’s about to open his mouth and recite all his favorite lines, drop them one after the other until her smallclothes drop with them, but then Tav uncorks the jar of chocolate and dips a berry inside and the words never leave his mouth. He’s too busy watching.

Watching the chocolate, perfectly melted, drip like dark blood from the berry as she lifts the strawberry to her lips. A drop lands on her palm, another on the swell of her breast, but he has eyes only for her mouth as her tongue appears to lick the berry, her eyes falling closed and her brow softening in pleasure. A soft moan rises up from her throat at the taste and when she takes a bite, Astarion can hear her teeth pierce the flesh of the fruit.

He is instantly hard.

Oh, gods. No plan. He had no plan.

Tav, completely unaware of his internal struggle, chews slowly. Her eyes are half-lidded when she opens them again, finishing her bite and sticking out her tongue to lick the remaining chocolate from her lips. She swallows and he watches it move down her throat, remembering the one and only time she let him pierce his teeth directly into that same neck. His desperation and her trust.

How misplaced it had been.

“Astarion?” she says, and he watches her perfect lips form his name and his core tightens with arousal.

He can do this. He knows how to do this.

His head falls softly into his hand in a gentle lean as he tears his gaze away from her mouth and meets her eyes. “Yes, beautiful?”

The very slightest flush colors her cheeks. He only notices because he’s already staring.

“Why’d you ask me here?” she says. She raises the remaining half of the chocolate covered berry to her mouth and takes another bite, licking the chocolate from her palm while she’s at it.

His tongue feels heavy in his mouth and he attempts to loosen it. “I think we both know why we’re here. Don’t you?” he says.

She huffs a laugh and tosses the strawberry top aside, still holding the jar of chocolate. With a downward glance, she spots the drop of chocolate on her breast and swipes it off with a finger, looking up to hold his eye as she licks it off.

“Why chocolate?” she asks, quieter this time.

Astarion blinks, confused. “What?”

Tav swallows. “You don’t eat. Why would you bother picking up chocolate?”

“I…” She’s caught him off-guard and the only thing coming to mind is the truth. “I thought you’d like it.”

“I do like it,” she says. Her eyes are going unnervingly soft as she looks at him. “But why me? Why not good wine for Wyll or flowers for Shadowheart?” She runs her finger around the rim of the jar and brings it to her mouth again, sticking the entire tip into her mouth to suck the chocolate off.

Astarion’s pupils dilate and he runs his tongue along his bottom lip.

“I like to watch you eat,” he says softly. Honestly.

“Hm,” she hums, tapping the same fingertip against her lips. “Do you?”

He breathes in deep and looks at her with a heat he doesn’t have to fake. “You have an incredible mouth. Has anyone ever told you that before?”

Tav’s aforementioned mouth pulls up into a grin as she leans in toward him. “I’ve been told once or twice. I’ll make you a deal.”

“Hm?” he manages. Coherent thought is becoming difficult. 

She holds out the jar. “You brought me chocolate and you like to watch my mouth,” she says lowly. “So put it… wherever you’d like to see my mouth.”

The jar is warm enough to make him sweat as she pushes it into his palm and his fingers close tightly around it. His brain clicks into place as he realizes what she’s giving him.

Power. Choice.

He thinks he may have just gone even harder.

With effort, he maintains his composure, plucking a small strawberry from the pile she’s left and swirling it into the open jar. He sets it aside and holds the berry up near his face, continuing to recline. He beckons her closer and arches a brow.

“Come and get it,” he teases.

Her face is full of mischief as she goes up on her hands and knees to come closer, her breasts hanging as she gives him a full peek down the front of her robes. When he tears his eyes away, her face is at level with the strawberry. She leans in close enough that he can smell the sweetness on her breath and takes his offering into her mouth. The sound of her teeth cutting through the fruit sends a wave of arousal rushing through his core.

Tav chews and swallows, breathing another strawberry-sweet sigh. She’s inches away.

“Anywhere else?” she says, eyes half-lidded as she gazes at him.

There’s only one place he’d really like her mouth right now.

Well. One, to start.

Astarion reaches toward the jar without breaking eye contact, dipping the pad of his middle finger into the warm chocolate. He withdraws it, brings it to his parted lips, and drags it over his lower lip. A bit ends up on the tip of his tongue. It tastes of wet dust, but he hadn’t expected anything better.

Tav’s face flickers with an affectionate smile. Her eyes drop to his mouth.

“I was hoping you’d pick that place,” she whispers.

She leans in and Astarion’s eyelids flutter closed as he feels the soft touch of her tongue stroking along his lip before her mouth covers his in a firm kiss. It’s nice. It’s very nice.

Their tongues brush against one another and something changes. Food and wine – they never taste like he remembers them, when he can remember them at all. But as the chocolate and strawberry become a part of her, held in her mouth and swallowed down, he tastes… something. Something sweet. Something more.

A sound of pure want rises in his throat before he even realizes it's happening.

Tav takes the sound as intended and deepens their kiss, moving her knees under her so she can lift her hands to either side of his jaw and pull him in tighter. Her lips are better than he imagined, gentle and skilled as she tastes him and he tastes her back.

Eventually, they break apart and open their eyes. For a moment, neither moves.

Then Tav says, “Where else?”

Astarion pushes himself up to sitting and she moves back to give him space. In seconds, he manages to undo the clasps along the front of his camp shirt and lets it fall open. He goes to reach for the chocolate, but Tav’s beat him to it. She holds it in her hand and speaks an incantation to summon a pale blue hand out of the aether. The mage hand spell dips inside and comes out dripping with chocolate. Then she grins and waits.

He leans back on his elbows with a look full of invitation, shirt falling to either side of his torso. He tents a leg and gives a knowing smirk when Tav’s gaze lights on the rigid length straining against his trousers.

“All in good time, my sweet,” he purrs. Shifting his weight to one side, he takes a finger and runs it down the column of his throat. Over each pectoral. Down the center of his sternum. Makes sure to hold her eye as he draws his pinky over the line separating his abdomen all the way to the navel.

Dutifully, Tav follows his instruction, using her spectral hand to apply chocolate. Astarion shudders as she does, the warmed confection raising gooseflesh where it comes into contact with his cool skin.

Job done, Tav waves the hand away, sets the jar aside, and crawls over him once again until she’s near his face. She tilts her head to regard him and then lowers herself while he leans back, exposing the column of his throat to her without a second thought.

Something he’d never have imagined allowing himself to do even a few weeks ago.

He’s rewarded for his trust with her tongue running a hot, wet stripe over his windpipe. Gods, his cock aches to be touched, but this feels too good to stop. He hums his approval.

Tav’s mouth is an erotic dream as it follows the trail of chocolate across his body, warm and soft and welcoming. When she closes her lips over a nipple and gently sucks, Astarion’s back arches and he groans.

By the time she gets to his navel, his breath is heavy with lust as he watches her tongue swirl and dip inside.

If he doesn’t take a moment to collect himself, he’s going to forget his own name.

Sluggishly, he reaches out to take a handful of hair at the back of her head and pull. Not hard, not to hurt. Just enough to attract her attention and get her to look at him, lips shining and kiss-swollen. Another wave of electric arousal washes through him.

“Are we going to have sex?” he asks, voice low and breathy.

Tav blinks slowly at him. “I’d like that,” she says.

He swallows. “Then you’d better disrobe, darling. You’re terribly overdressed.”

With a bright laugh, she places one more openmouthed kiss near his hipbone and stands so she can undo the buttons of her robe, letting the material fall loosely around her shoulders as she goes. While she’s preoccupied, Astarion manages his own clothing, pulling the ties of his trousers loose and shoving everything down over his hips, his hard cock springing free at last. He takes it in hand and sits up straight just as Tav wriggles out of her smallclothes, standing stark naked before him with her clothing pooling on the floor.

Immediately and with a neediness he hasn’t properly felt in years, Astarion pumps his cock with his left hand and grips Tav’s hip with his right, pulling her in close as he brings his mouth to her cunt and gives her a kiss of her own, tongue stroking and exploring whatever he can reach from this angle. Above him, Tav gasps at the sensation, nearly doubling over in surprise, her fingers twisting into his hair.

“Wait, wait,” she says, breathlessly, giving him a light tap on the shoulder. “I’m… I’m not done.”

He releases her reluctantly and reclines again. She goes back onto her knees and recalls her mage hand, taking more chocolate. Her eyes never leave his cock as she uses her magic to drizzle chocolate over his hips, his thighs, and, of course…

Astarion lets his head fall back as the warmed chocolate drips down his cock, his breath coming tight and short. The heat of her tongue swirls over one of his hip bones, then the other. By the time she reaches the creases of his thighs, he’s quivering in anticipation. He makes sure to lift his head just in time to watch her catch his eye and run the flat of her tongue over the underside of his length from root to tip.

“Ah, fuck,” he sighs, scraping his nails over the blanket-covered ground.

Tav looks deep into him as she licks the split on the underside of the head, making certain to get every bit she spilled. Her beautiful lips pout slightly to give the tip of his cock a proper kiss. Then they part and she takes him down, down, down, every aching inch.

“Gods, Antava,” he groans, abdomen clenching and shuddering as roiling heat blooms in his core. “Yes.”

She hums back at him in response, moving her head in a steady rhythm, alternating between licking and sucking. He must be clean of chocolate by now, but she doesn’t stop, and Astarion isn’t complaining. He hasn’t experienced head this good in ages and watching her lips work over his cock is undeniably hot.

A minute or so later, she pulls off him with a wet pop, eyes glazed over with want as she puffs hot breath over his spit-slick cock.

“Anywhere else you’d like-” she starts, but he’s already reaching down to pull her face toward his.

“Come here,” he growls, pulling her mouth back to his in a desperate kiss, pulling her body in close to his until they’re skin to skin, his cock trapped between them. Unbidden, his hips roll, grinding into her belly.

Panting, she pushes up on her knees to hover above his lap and casts another spell under her breath, drawing any remaining chocolate from his skin and casting it aside.

“What was that?” he breathes.

“Prestidigitation spell,” she breathes back, putting a hand firmly on each of his shoulders. “I don’t fancy getting thrush, personally.”

And with that, she lowers herself toward the floor, finding the tip of his cock with her entrance and sinking onto it. If Astarion thought her mouth was incredible, he had no idea. He curls his hips up to meet hers with a broken moan, palming her arse with one hand and running the other up over her spine until it’s wrapped around the nape of her neck. He buries his face into the crook of her neck and breathes her in. He grinds up into her, buried to the hilt in her delicious heat.

She meets his passion, rolling her hips against his in a steady rhythm as she leans her head to one side to give him better access to her neck, panting near his ear. His fingertips dig into the ample flesh of her backside, guiding her as they fuck deep. He groans, holding her closer as they pick up speed, needily licking and nipping at the skin of her neck.

“Ah, ah, Tav, ah,” he manages against her shoulder, voice dark with lust. And he isn’t even faking it. Not this time.

She doesn’t respond beyond the quiet cries rising from her chest, but she palms the back of his head and presses his mouth to her neck until he can feel the thrumming pulse there. That’s surely an invitation if he’s ever had one.

Astarion bites, her heated blood flowing immediately from the punctures to coat his tongue in metallic vitality, rich and ever-so-slightly sweet. An echo of the sugar on her tongue. He drinks, and drinks, and forces himself away before he takes too much. When he pulls back, mouth stained red, Tav’s right there to capture him in a kiss. It’s salt and sugar, blood and chocolate.

Tension rises and threatens to snap, the promise of pleasurable release circling ever closer. In anticipation, Astarion reaches between them to press a thumb to her swollen clit, and Tav cries out, her rocking intensifying as she chases her climax.

Astarion says something then that he hasn’t said sincerely in a while.

“Fuck, I’m going to come,” he pants.

“Me too,” Tav murmurs.

Then she does, core tightening and thighs clenching on either side of his hips as she pulses around his cock, the space between them going slick. With a guttural groan, Astarion presses into her as deep as he can go and finds his own release, shivering through his peak as he spills inside her.

Before either can catch their breath, they’re kissing again, swallowing the pleasure that courses through them.

They stay in place for a long moment, clinging to one another and kissing deep.

After they come down and separate to clean up and redress, Astarion sends a glance her way.

He clears his throat. “So, what changed?” he asks, forcibly casual.

“What do you mean?” she says as she adjusts her robe and twists her hair up into a knot.

Astarion waves a hand through the air. “Just curious when your obvious lust for me won out over your self-preservation instincts,” he teases.

Tav pauses in setting her hair and looks at him with an arched brow. “Is that why you think I didn’t sleep with you before?” she says. “Because I was afraid of you?”

He shrugs. “Why else?”

She drops her hands to her sides with a laugh. “I didn’t think you really wanted me, before. Your proposition felt… hollow.”

Astarion’s muscles freeze in place like he’s been caught in a spotlight. He catches himself quickly, blinking, and attempts to play it off. “Hm. And this time?”

Tav walks past him, brushing his shoulder and giving him a knowing look from under her lashes as she bends down to retrieve the enchanted jar so she can press it back into his hand. The warmth between them lingers.

She smiles.

“This time,” she says, hand still on his. “You brought me chocolate. And a little honesty.”

Then she turns and walks away, Astarion staring after her.

He takes a breath, fingers tight around the jar.

[zivazivc]

Not exactly a character sheet but something akin to it... an all around sound reveal/analysis for my punk funk guy

yapping on top of yapping under the cut:

Les's musical style is a wide range that typically leans heavily into funk metal or punk rock, or both!, although he is quick to get inspired by other genres too. In general he likes music that sounds at least a little droll and unexpected. I hope the selection of albums I compiled can paint you a good idea of it (because I sure as hell don't know what I'm doing!).

He is, first and foremost, a bass player and he's very good at it. Heavy funky slapping and popping is prominent in his music as is usual in funk music in general. He's got an old (ugly) second-hand bass guitar, that he cherishes like it's his baby. He could probably save an get a cooler-looking one for the stage but that in itself is uncool in his book.

He's also not so bad with the trumpet too, doesn't own one though, so he only plays it when he gets a chance. He learned to play it from his uncle Adewale.

Singing on the other hand is not his forte; he doesn't have super impressive vocals plus he's holding himself back. His singing style sounds droll and kind of jaded (often even deadpan and monotone although thought out and not lazy in any way), and closer to speak-singing. Big reason for that is that genuine honest singing makes him feel vulnerable in an uncomfortable way he's not willing to face, and it hints at a possibility for emotional release he very much prefers to not see happen. Y'know, singing is therapeutic and he doesn't want the therapy. 🥲

He typically balances out his singing with sarcastic/dramatic lyrics or unusual storytelling that keep his true thoughts and feelings well encrypted under layers of metaphors and allegories (subconsciously or intentionally) — which funnily enough makes him a very clever lyricist. But he doesn't put any of it down and has no interest in joining Hed and Floyd with writing songs for the band.

His singing VA is John McCrea from Cake, and when I say this I mean from the sound of his singing voice, all the way down to how he delivers his lines and the lyrics themselves. ':) More examples: 1, 2, 3. (I put only two of their albums on the drawing but honestly Cake has so many good Les songs.)

NoMeansNo is a close second when it comes to lyrics, but they're more like vent songs for Les, when you catch him in a weird angry/depressed mood. I also really like that band's prominent use of the bass, it's not very funky but it scratches my Les itch very much.

Butthole Surfers' songs have good Les lyrics too, although those are more "him singing about weird hallucinations while high out of his mind" or when he wants to be shocking for the sake of being shocking. That band is just weird overall, I like the singers southern drawl though. I'm still on board the idea of Les and Hed having a bit of a southern US accent.

Incubus is an amazing band overall but their first two albums are such a good flavor of funk metal and early band experimentality. Their singer is really good in regards to the word intonation I imagine Les having, he's too skilled for Les to keep up with in some parts though. 😅

I think the perfect Les sound would be some kind of chimera of these four bands... or maybe not, maybe that would sound terrible. XD

But still, to get a feel for Les's sound overall you have to give all of the examples below a listen, or at least the ones I put in bold.

- The albums featured in the drawing ↴

Incubus - S.C.I.E.N.C.E.

NoMeansNo - 0 + 2 = 1

Cake - Comfort Eagle

Incubus - Fungus Amongus

Beck - Odelay

The Damage Manual - The Damage Manual

Primus - Sailing the Seas of Cheese

Cake - Motorcade of Generosity

Fungo Mungo - Humungous

NoMeansNo - Wrong

Butthole Surfers - Electriclarryland

L.A.P.D. - L.A.P.D.

Bonus "Lena" album:

13. Jack Off Jill - Clear Hearts Grey Flowers

[bedupolker]

PLAYLIST. @viv13drainbow I think if you like that song in particular you'd also really enjoy Summer Salt, Little Joy, and Babe Rainbow for chill beach-y rock (not included). Commentary below:

The Blue Album - The album to start all albums, the album that launched weezer to success. Many hail this as their best album (I love this album but respectfully disagree) but nonetheless it's an essential for weezer fans and alt rock fans as a whole. Plenty of people who know way more about music than I do have praised blue album at length, and it's a funny meme nowadays too. Of course say it ain't so is an all-time classic, a heart-wrenching look into Rivers's relationship with alcoholism and his parental figures. I dunno if anything on the blue album can be called a proper deep cut, but only in dreams is an overlooked gem, and probably my favorite outro in their whole discography. Hopeful but somber, that slow buildup a the end to the guitar solo. Suzanne is a nice B-side.

Pinkerton - the infamous Pinkerton. Their sophomore album. Their breakdown album. Although weezer's not exactly an emo band, this album is often credited to being influential to the genre as a whole. No two people have the same experience with love or breakups, and one of the beautiful things about art is that we can see an experience through anothers' eyes, but I don't think I can think of a more painfully relatable album than this one. The balancing act of portraying its sympathetically-unsympathetic protagonist as equal parts pathetic and lonely while also entitled and aggressive. Some of the vocals are so raw for a second you see the monster in the five foot six, nerdy, physically disabled, lead singer that he sees himself as. Hard for me to pick a favorite standalone song off this one; the good life is a funky jam that wouldn't be out of place next to wheatus or RCHP's tracks, but that's where all the funk ends. Why bother? is a driving, catchy song that starts to show the cracks of his depression, falling for you is full of emotion, and if you get your hands on the deluxe edition, tragic girl.

Green album - At its time of release, Pinkerton was not received well. Creating such a raw, personal piece of art is hard. It's like the artistic version of getting crazy drunk, pouring your heart out, feeling catharsis for a moment, then realizing you'll have to deal with it all the next day. A lot of people interpret island in the sun as a happy song, but to me it's the tylenol after that night of drinking, a lie to tell yourself just to get through the day. It has a peaceful rhythm and brings to mind a tropical paradise, but there's something undeniably melancholy beneath the sunshine and smiles. You've tried to face your pain and you barely escaped alive, maybe you're better off just ignoring it. (That being said, although the damage has been done, Pinkerton has later been reevaluated and is now as widely praised as the Blue Album amongst music critics, and Rivers himself has made peace with that phase in his life.)

Maladroit - Overall this album is rather overlooked. It leans a bit more heavily into the rock aspect compared to green album, yet the lyrics remain impersonal and goofy. It's still not a bad album, though doesn't reach the heights of the first two. The singles, Dope Nose & Keep Fishing are both solid, but Burndt Jamb is my personal favorite. A little beach-y, probably their Stroke-y est song, (the band, not the medical emergency), it's been a mainstay on several of my chill out playlists for years now.

Make Believe - Probably one of their most hated albums by fans. It has the infamously shallow and poppy beverly hills, but you know what? I'm a Make Believe Defender. I truly think it could've been a great album, maybe even on par with Pinkerton. Not because of the album itself, but the demos. Haunt you Everyday is solid on the final product but rips at my heartstrings in this demo, ditto for tell me what you did (different name on the final product), everybody wants a chance to be alone (I said burndt jamb was their strokiest song but I think it might actually be this one) purple flowers (lyrics are a little rough but the melody, the meloncholy... so good) Actually on that note, weezer has, like, multiple album's worth of unreleased content that's miles better than anything on a published album (Link for one of my favorite fan compilations). Yes, the lyrics sound like something I wrote in my diary after a breakup, but that makes them all the more real. A deep dive into weezer will reveal the terrifying truth we've all been blind to: weezer never got bad.

Red Album - Mixed feelings on this one. It was produced by Rick Rubin, industry titan and famous for bringing bands "back from the dead," he's produced more than one of my all time favorite albums. Red is not one of them unfortunately. It has its fans though. Pork and Beans is fun.

Raditude, Hurley, Death to False Metal - Skipping these bc I don't care abt them

Everything will be alright in the end - To fans, this was their first "good" album since Maladroit, maybe since Pinkerton (12 years prior!) depending on who you ask. Although it wasn't as commercially successful as some others, it's a very strong album. Really, what is it about rock bands forgetting they're rock bands then suddenly returning to releasing rock music and magically being good again?? I'm looking @ you too, fall out boy. I have a hard time picking a really standout song- it's one of those albums that's evenly good throughout, no skips, but no obvious standouts either. Da Vinci is fun.

White Album - A fantastic album. You can hear some pretty heavy beach boys influence in this one. Unlike EWBAITE it has a few skips for me, but the highs are very high. Speaking of high. Do you wanna get high has to be my favorite off this one, Endless Bummer could be a sequel to island in the sun, Summer Elaine and Drunk Dori is just good clean weezy fun.

Pacific Daydream - I'm a Pacific Daydream defender. Check out QB blitz. Weekend Woman is flawed, but fun too, the bridge really makes it for me. Very evocative of Good Vibrations by the beach boys.

Teal Album - Oh god a cover album. No Scrubs is probably the only one really worth checking out if nothing else to hear a geeky white guy say "A scrub is a guy who thinks he's fly" like he's reading it out of a dictionary. (TLC, who wrote and performed the original song, allegedly got a kick out of it)

Black Album & Van Weezer - I don't care about these either. Damnit I thought we were gonna be good again!

Ok Human - A good album!! What a relief. Could you imagine how embarrassing it would be to name yourself as a homage such a groundbreaking radiohead album and have it be.... bad??? I particularly love this one because in some ways it feels like it's his most personal album since Pinkerton- only instead of being an honest dialogue from a horribly lonely and isolated 20 year old student, it's a much more well adjusted, happily married, 50 year old father who is subject to both optimism and ennui. And it rocks! In a soft, subdued way. The songs flow into each other so nicely, the first three in the album debatably are my favorite 3-song-run in their discog. Aloo Gobi and Grapes of Wrath especially. The transition from dark and somber Dead Roses to light and upbeat Here Comes the Rain never gets old to me. This album (alongside MGMT's little dark age and The Stroke's The New Abnormal) was also like my essential Coronavirus holy trinity.

Spring/Summer/Fall/Winter - This is a compilation of 4 EP's, one of each released during their respective seasons in 2022. I think it's solid all around, with Summer being the strongest. Records and Blue Like Jazz are both very catchy, Thank you and Goodnight... just wait for the outro, trust me.

[justforbooks]

Sly Stone

Funk and soul musician whose band, Sly and the Family Stone, had a profound effect on US music in the 1960s and 70s

Between 1968 and 1973 Sly Stone, who has died aged 82, changed the direction of African-American popular music not once but twice. Initially promoting a utopian vision of racial and sexual unity with catchy, imaginative and anthemic songs, he then morphed into a shadowy, stoned figure whose downbeat music mirrored the disenchantment of the early 1970s.

It was in 1968 that his band, Sly and the Family Stone, released the single Everyday People, an appeal to unity that topped both the US pop and R&B charts for four weeks in early 1969. Everyday People’s catchphrases – “different strokes for different folks”, “we got to live together” – reflected an optimistic, racially inclusive America and ensured that Sly, with his bright smile and brighter threads, became an iconic figure to many. He and his band had a huge US following, their energy and optimism making them flag bearers for the nascent hippie movement, while appealing to both black and white audiences.

In 1969 the band released the adventurous album Stand!, which opened with the title track urging listeners to stand against injustice, and was followed by the dissonant Don’t Call Me Nigger, Whitey. By now the likes of Miles Davis and Jimi Hendrix, Stevie Wonder and Marvin Gaye were studying Sly: he was an icon of black power and arguably the most influential talent in popular music.

The band’s powerful performance at the Woodstock festival in 1969 – with Sly driving the audience into a frenzy as he chanted I Want to Take You Higher – provided one of the highlights of the Woodstock feature film, and magnified their fame. Then the band relocated to Los Angeles in late 1969, releasing Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Agin), a propulsive funk number that topped the charts in 1970.

Sly then began to shut himself away in a Bel Air mansion, consuming huge quantities of cocaine and angel dust (the hallucinogen PCP). The album There’s a Riot Goin’ On took almost two years to emerge – a lifetime in pop music. It was a Sly Stone solo effort in all but name and its sound was no longer bright and bold but sombre and low-fi, recorded with an early drum machine and a few close friends (the guitarist Bobby Womack, the organist Billy Preston) sitting in and getting high.

Sly’s record company, Epic, was aghast, fearing it would alienate his audience. But once again Sly proved himself ahead of the pack: Family Affair, the first single to be released from the album, was a US No 1 and has since gone on to become a contemporary music standard.

Nothing else on There’s a Riot Goin’ On possessed the commercial potential of Family Affair, but the album was a murky, compelling insight into Sly’s weary but creative mind – and its drug-induced mood of ennui and cynicism appeared to match that of many Americans experiencing a comedown after the excitement and hopes of the 60s. Riot topped the US album charts and effected a profound influence on African-American music. It is now regarded by many as a masterpiece.

Born Sylvester Stewart in Denton, Texas, Sly grew up in Vallejo, California. His mother, Alpha, sang and played guitar at a local church, and his father, known as KC, served as a deacon. With his siblings, Sly sang in the Stewart Four, a gospel group that played in churches and even cut a 78 record.

He taught himself to play the guitar and soon mastered the organ, harmonica and a number of other instruments, becoming lead vocalist of the Viscaynes, a doo wop group with whom he released two singles in 1960. After studying musical theory and composition at Vallejo Junior College in Fairfield, California, he was hired by Autumn Records, producing pop hits for the Beau Brummels and Bobby Freeman (and writing Freeman’s C’mon and Swim).

Sly maintained a hectic schedule during the mid-60s: leading his own band, the Stoners, and working as a DJ at the KSOL radio station in San Francisco, then at KDIA in Oakland, at both of which he was a pioneer in playing contemporary rock music alongside R&B. He formed Sly and the Family Stone in 1966 with his brother Freddie on guitar, Larry Graham on bass, Cynthia Robinson on trumpet, Jerry Martini on saxophone and Greg Errico on drums. His sister Rose joined on electric piano after the release of the group’s little-noticed 1967 debut album, A Whole New Thing. Sly wrote all the material, played guitar and keyboards, and sang, too.

Sly and the Family Stone were a radical proposition from the start: a multiracial, mixed sex band who blended elements of contemporary rock with a James Brown-influenced dance groove. Their afros and long hair, and fashionable clothes, stood outside the R&B mainstream, in which matching suits and processed hair remained the norm. With their harmonising, their habit of using different members to sing individual lines, and Graham’s popping bass technique that would come to be the signature sound of funk, they had a unique feel.

Only three months after their second album, Dance to the Music, which contained their first hit single (a Top 10 success in the US and the UK) with the track of the same name, they released Life, an unremarkable collection of songs that produced minor hits with the title track and M’Lady.

A year later came Stand!, and then, as Epic grew frustrated at receiving no new material, a Greatest Hits collection was put out in 1970. It reached No 2 in the US charts and has since gone on to sell more than 5m copies. With Sly working for two years on his next album, Epic’s president, Clive Davis, froze his royalties to force him to get a move on. When Davis finally received There’s a Riot Goin’ On he was shocked by its contents.

Although his worries about the album’s unsaleability proved to be ill-founded, Davis did, however, have genuine cause for concern in the years after Riot. Sly’s drug intake escalated, and he became increasingly paranoid and isolated, regularly refusing to perform at concerts (leading to riots by furious audiences) and surrounding himself with thuggish bodyguards. Their threatening behaviour led Errico and Graham to leave the band and the 1973 album, Fresh, although it contained the Top 20 US single If You Want Me to Stay, was not a great commercial success.

The following year the album Small Talk proved a critical and commercial failure, and 90% of tickets for a 1975 concert in New York were left unsold. The Family Stone dissolved and Sly attempted a solo career, but subsequent albums failed to sell. In 1977 Epic released him from his contract.

For more than four decades he created little. Rarely performing or recording – his last album, Ain’t But the One Way, came out in 1982 – he generally made the news only when arrested for cocaine possession, in court for not having paid tax or fighting with various managers over royalties. A comeback was mooted in 2007 when a European tour was booked, but Sly’s reluctance to perform for more than 20 minutes, plus his new band’s ineptness, meant the performances were widely ridiculed. After that he existed for many years as little more than a ghost, often reported to be living in his van, still a superstar in his own mind.

In 2023 his autobiography Thank You (Falettinme Be Mice Elf Again), written with Ben Greenman, was published and Stone gave interviews in which he claimed to be free of his drug addictions. Seemingly, his daughter Sylvette and a new manager, Arlene Hirschkowitz, had combined their efforts to ensure drug dealers no longer had access to Stone. A feature documentary, Sly Lives! (aka The Burden of Black Genius), directed by the musician Questlove, was released in 2024.

The popularity of the music he created between 1968 and 1973 had never faded – Prince, D’Angelo and Lenny Kravitz were among the many musicians influenced by him. Indeed, the US critic Joel Selvin wrote that “There are two types of black music: before Sly Stone and after Sly Stone.”

He is survived by three children: Sylvester, from his marriage to Kathy Silva, which ended in divorce; Sylvette, from a relationship with his fellow band member Robinson, and Novena, from another relationship.

🔔 Sly Stone (Sylvester Stewart), musician, born 15 March 1943; died 9 June 2025

Daily inspiration. Discover more photos at Just for Books…?

[keepingupwithzaynmalik]

Zayn at Eventim Hammersmith Apollo review: moments of joyous catharsis

The pop star paid tribute to his friend Liam Payne, but the main focus of the night was delivering on the warmth

★ ★ ★ ★ ☆

When he was 22, Zayn Malik stepped away from the biggest pop band in the world. “I have to do what feels right in my heart,” he wrote at the time and in the nine years since, he’s consistently lived up to that promise. His R&B-tinged solo single Pillowtalk was a smash hit on both sides of the Atlantic, as was the debut album Mind Of Mine, but the records that followed moved further away from sugary stadium pop and focused on raw, confessional songwriting instead.

He only played his first headline show earlier this year, at London’s Shepherd’s Bush Empire to celebrate the release of rustic fourth album Room Under The Stairs, and his debut headline tour kicked off last week. “Thank you for being patient with me,” he told the crowd at Eventim Hammersmith Apollo on Tuesday night. “I know I took a while but we got here…it f***ing feels amazing.”

Zayn didn’t quite know what to do with himself as explosive screams broke out after each and every song, but he looked entirely comfortable singing his powerfully heartfelt anthems. Backed by a seven-piece band and with the stage littered with twinkling trees, there was a deliberate warmth to the entire show. “If people told you to be quiet online, ignore them,” he said, wanting the sold-out venue to lose themselves in the moment. “Have a drink, have a dance, let’s have a good time.”

The excitable fans were the only real hint of Zayn’s time in One Direction. No tracks from his former band made the 17-song setlist, though a lush cover of Paulo Nutini’s Let Me Hold You did, and the only nod to his past was a simple, tender “Love you bro” video tribute to bandmate Liam Payne at the very end of the gig. Instead, he focused on his own rich back catalogue, and rightfully so.

From the dreamy Scripted to “cheeky” scream-a-long Sweat via stripped back takes on early singles iT’s YoU and BoRdErZ, there were nods to every step of his solo journey. The folksy songs from Room Under The Stairs were the real stars of the show though. Opening one-two of My Woman and Birds On A Cloud were pained but full of longing before the gentle rock & roll swagger of Dreamin. He encouraged the crowd to get into their feelings for the fragile Lied To while a spiky Ignorance Ain’t Bliss flirted with party-starting funk.

On record, tracks like Alienated and Gates Of Hell feel sombre and delicate but closing out the gig, they were transformed into soaring moments of joyous catharsis. Based on his grin, it seemed like Zayn needed that while some fans rushed outside to start queueing in the rain for Wednesday night’s show. It’s hard to know if this tour is a one-off, or the start of a new chapter in his career. Wherever Zayn goes next though, you can be sure he’ll do things his own, defiant way.

VIA STANDARD

[selkiechild4998]

✧°˖────———- ・・・・・ . ☽ ‧₊˚ ···╮

Bed Bug

╰┈ ‧₊˚ ☾. ⋅ ・・・・———-────°˖✧

I loved working on this fic! I never see enough Dewtom content in this fandom and the incorrect quotes post from @kalesaladd got me out of my writing funk! I hope ya'll enjoy!

Inspo Post- Here!

TW- None

Genre- Fluff

Wordcount- 924 Words

AO3 Link- Here!

⭑･ﾟﾟ･*:༅｡.｡༅:*ﾟ:*:✼✿　⛧⃝　✿✼:*ﾟ:༅｡.｡༅:*･ﾟﾟ･⭑

It was strange getting used to the new pack structure. Sure, the band wasn't touring; Aether was still with them and enjoying his retirement, but there were two new faces to the pack. Aurora has been fitting into the pack perfectly and getting along with everyone. As for Phantom, he was still trying to find his place in the pack. Part of Dew felt sympathy for him; he had been so harsh with the younger ghoul, and his actions had been clouding his mind with guilt.

Most nights, he could hear Phantom roaming the halls or practicing his guitar. He knew Phantom was putting himself under pressure, wanting to prove to Papa that he was a good pick for the project and even prove to Dew that he belonged in the pack. It impressed Dew. It would impress him more if Phantom didn't constantly keep him up at night with his midnight practice sessions or late-night snack runs.

This night was one of the rare quiet nights for those in the Ministry. Only the sound of a rolling thunderstorm accompanied the sound of raindrops striking the window. The sounds alone were enough to soothe the former water ghoul as he lay in his bed, his thick, weighted comforter draped over his thin frame. His cheek was nuzzled against his cooled pillow, taking in the scent of the tee shirt that Aether had given him that he used as a pillowcase.

Dew hardly flinched at the sound of a deafening clap of thunder, only letting out a soft groan as he pressed his cheek against his pillow. The only sound that made him stir was the sound of his bedroom door creaking softly open and the soft pad of footsteps on the hardwood floor. His torn ear fin gave a small flick, hearing the bedroom door click shut before a whisper broke the quiet of his room,

"Dew?… Dew, you awake?"

"Bat, why are you here?" Dew groaned out, turning to press his face more into his pillow, not bothering to open his eyes to look at the lanky quintessence ghoul who was enveloped in his favorite bat comforter Copia had recently gifted him.

"I had a nightmare," Phantom mumbled, glancing out the window at the storm raging outside, "Can I sleep in here tonight?"

Dew let out a soft groan at that, rolling to lie on his back.

"Bug," he started, "This is a queen-sized bed," he mumbled, "Which means it's for," he lifted an arm, lazily gesturing at himself, "The queen."

A yawn then escaped the fire ghoul as he stretched out his limbs, taking up as much space as he could on the bed to further discourage Phantom from clambering into sheets with him.

For a moment, he thought Phantom had left the room. He didn't hear his footsteps exit his room or the door opening or closing. He assumed Phantom was playing his puppy dog eye trick, an act he uses on Copia and the rest of the pack all the time. What he did not expect was for a sudden weight to fall on top of him.

"Hey!" Dew barked, baring his sharp teeth when he moved to sit up but paused, seeing the quintessence ghoul lying on his chest. Phantom had his comforter wrapped around him, his face just barely poking out of the soft fabric. The younger ghoul held onto Dew with both claws and his bat-like wings, his cheek pressed against the older ghoul's chest.

For a moment, Dew didn't know what to do. His gaze stayed locked on Phantom before huffing, wrapping his arms around him with a soft grumble. "You're lucky you're Papa's favorite," he mumbled as he laid his head against his pillow. A soft hum was the only response from Phantom, other than the quiet, nasally purr that had emerged from the ghoul as he nuzzled his cheek against Dew's chest, listening to his heartbeat.

At first, Dew was comfortable, but as time passed, the barrier his weighted comforter provided got on his nerves. He eventually pushed Phantom to the side, drawing a surprised chirp from him. He was about to protest but didn't get the chance when Dew tugged his blankets aside and yanked Phantom back down on top of him.

"Not a word to anyone, got it, Bug?"

Phantom nodded, settling back down as he felt Dew lazily wrap an arm around him. Only when he heard a crunchy-sounding purr rumble from Dew's chest did he let his eyes flutter closed, his yawn turning to a soft squeak before purring softly.

It didn't take long for Phantom to fall asleep, purring with each soft breath as Dew kept his gaze up at his ceiling. "What are you doing to me, Bug?" Dew sighed with a small but gentle smile. When a clap of thunder shook the Ministry, Phantom tightened his hold on Dew, a soft whimper escaping him. The soft whimper prompted Dew to wrap his arm even tighter around him, resting his chin atop his head.

The tension in Phantom melted away as he was held against Dew's naturally warm body. Even in his sleep, he couldn't help but wrap his wings around Dew, holding onto him with the thumb claws of the limbs. Dew found it endearing as he held Phantom close, letting his eyes flutter closed as the rumble of thunder started to echo further in the distance, leaving only the sound of the gentle pitter-patter of rain on the window pane behind as the storm calmed outside.

[bitter69uk]

“Hagen recorded Nunsexmonkrock in New York with a band that included Paul Shaffer and Chris Spedding. To describe it as wild hardly suffices – the drugs-sex-religion-politics-mystical imagery that spills out is nearly incomprehensible in its bag-lady solipsism, but the music and singing combine into an aural bed of nails that carries stunning impact. It almost doesn’t matter that Hagen sticks to English; what counts is the phenomenal vocal drama. Her range seems limitless, and the countless characters she plays makes this fascinating.”

/ The Trouser Press Record Guide (1991) review of Nunsexmonkrock /

“Nina Hagen’s 1982 album Nunsexmonkrock is one of the single most ground-breaking and far-out things ever recorded and it deserves to be considered a great—perhaps the very greatest—unsung masterpiece of the post-punk era … Nunsexmonkrock could have been recorded 40 years ago, yesterday, or a thousand years from now and it just wouldn’t matter.”

/ From Dangerous Minds website /

Unleashed on this day (12 June 1982): berserk German punk diva Nina Hagen’s debut solo album and definitive artistic achievement, futuristic post-punk masterpiece Nunsexmonkrock – hailed by a Rolling Stone reviewer as the "most unlistenable" record ever made. Au contraire! Hagen’s confrontational Exorcist-style vocals and crackpot flights of fancy are (mostly) grounded in experimental but tough and danceable New Wave rock. Opener “AntiWorld” invents an operatic / Biblical / gypsy punk hybrid. Spooky anti-heroin diatribe “Smack Jack” nails a sense of junkie panic. "Iki Maska" is anchored to the same Henry Mancini / Peter Gunn guitar riff as “Planet Claire” by the B-52’s. The irresistible “Born in Xixax” bristles with paranoid conspiracy theories predicting World War III but vows, “One day we will be free!” Best of all, the extraterrestrial “Cosma Shiva” marries blaxploitation funk bass with samples of the gurgles and squeals of Hagen’s baby daughter, and concludes with Hagen declaring, “And my little baby, I tell you—God is your father.” Nunsexmonkrock still sounds like bleeding-edge science fiction!

[idoherty451]

THIS THURSDAY (5/22) at 8PM EDT on twitch.tv/funknwaffleslive: My band Mosaic Mind will be performing at Funk 'n Waffles in Syracuse, NY! If you're in the area, we would love to see you there. If not, Funk 'n Waffles will be livestreaming the show at the link above. (I'll also be playing with the headliner, Chris LeFever Band, so stick around for that after we finish our set!)

BUT IAN, WHAT'S MOSAIC MIND?

Mosaic Mind is an alt/prog rock band from Central New York writing original music influenced by everything from Foo Fighters to Pink Floyd. You can hear demos of our songs on our SoundCloud (I'm aware of the current SoundCloud situation; based on the statement from them at the end of the article, as far as I know, our stuff is safe at the moment), and you can find all of our social media at our Linktree.

We are currently working on our first album! It's all recorded, and we're hoping to release it later this year, but we're still working through the mixing/mastering. If you'd like to help support us finishing the album, you can:

Leave us a tip on our Ko-fi!

Purchase any of my music on Bandcamp and include the message "Go Mosaic Mind!": Ian Doherty | Ramshki Alley

Spread the word by reblogging!

If you've made it this far, thanks for reading. And if you decide to check us out, either through our SoundCloud or the livestream on Thursday, I hope you enjoy!

[beetheyapper]

MUSIC I THINK THE POETS WOULD ENJOY

this is not time period accurate but i do not care. i at least tried to keep it pre-2000s. also i’m 100% projecting my music taste onto them. deal with it? spotify playlists, each of which has around 30 songs, are linked below each description ! i spent forever on this 😭

Charlie Dalton

i’m not sure that i could pinpoint very many artists he’d particularly like, but this is a classic rock boy right here. he’d be into ac/dc, motley crue, led zeppelin, etc. perhaps a bit of duran duran (this is where i’m projecting the most.) songs about s3x and women, and songs that make him feel like the rebel he is. (this playlist has been gale hansen approved on twitter btw)

Neil Perry

oh i just know this kid would be into some funk and pop, especially 80s and perhaps even new wave (i’m again projecting). now THIS is a duran duran fan (specifically their early stuff), which is unsurprising since the lead singer has a drama degree. he’d also probably like fleetwood mac, and would be well-versed in the band’s drama. duran duran, wham!, fleetwood mac, abba, maybe even some hall & oates. songs with complex lyrics and also songs that make him wanna dance. lots of upbeat stuff because though he has things that bother him, he’d rather do anything but dwell on them.

Todd Anderson

honestly, considering they’re roommates, i feel like neil would’ve had a bit of an impact on todd’s music taste, so there’s some band influence there—but regardless, i think todd would be into more mellow and emotional songs. jeff buckley comes to mind, along with the eagles, the beatles and maybe a splash of the smiths also pls pretend now and then didn’t come out last year. he would also be letting it linger i fear

Knox Overstreet

knox would be similar to Charlie, as they probably bond over shared music taste just as much as everything else. very heavy on the classic rock, but a lean more towards songs about needing someone and love songs as he pines for Chris. Tom Petty, Robert Palmer, The Cars, and a bunch of songs introduced to him by Charlie. He sticks more to genre/theme than to a specific artist methinks

Richard Cameron

contrary to what some may think, i think Cameron would absolutely groove to some rock n roll. HOWEVER. he is a 60s-70s rock n roll elitist. he thinks Billy Idol’s cover of Mony Mony is a disgrace. he wholeheartedly believes the Beatles are the best band to have ever graced the planet. The Beatles, The Beach Boys. The Rolling Stones, etc. Maybe even some Simon & Garfunkel. Him and Charlie argue a lot about which decades were the best years of rock music

Gerard Pitts

free my boy. he just wants to dance he ain’t do nothing wrong. his music taste has definitely been influenced by some of the other poets, in the sense that if he hears a song with a funky beat that makes him want to dance, it’s added to his mixtape IMMEDIATELY. for this reason, i’m thinking lots of funk and groove. play that funky music white boy! Bee Gees, ABBA, Talking Heads, Pet Shop Boys, etc. as long as he can dance to it he could care less who it’s by

Steven Meeks

another old rock, but more on the calm side with some hints of folk and fun. Donovan, The Beatles (paul is his fav for sure), The Beach Boys, and he definitely loves every white person anthem, including Sweet Caroline. he likes to groove with Pitts but also like soothing music to study to !!! i had to consult my friend on this one i fear i was drawing a blank

AND THAT is my opinion on each of the poets’ music taste. did i squeeze Duran Duran into almost all of them? perhaps. they’re my fav band let me live… feel free to listen to the playlists (please listen to them. pls i don’t want to have made them in vain.) and maybe even become spotify moots with me :D

[bbym0on]

What I feel the Batfamiliy’s music tastes are

Bruce- has a fondness for classical music from his father, but while working he needs something with a little more bass. I think he would be really into Symphonic heavy metal, like Yngvie Malmstein, or even stuff more melodic like Iron Maiden.

Dick-Really into ‘70s boogie, funk, and disco. Music that just gets the energy up and is fun. Favorites would be: K.c and the sunshine band, Wild cherry, the Commodores, and the BeeGees.

Jason-He has a preference for ‘80s hard rock, driving guitars, heavy bass, and kicking drums. But his favorite band is Three days Grace ‘cause he related to the lyrics so much. Some of his favorite bands would be: Dio, Ac/Dc, Scorpions, and Def Leppard.

Tim-He listens to the most obnoxious Edm, techno, and Eurobeat you’ve ever heard in your life, not so much because he likes the music, but because the volume and bpm keep him awake. (I don’t know any Edm, or Techno bands)

Steph-Is really into early 2000s pop punk, like green day, Fall Out Boy, Avril Lavigne. In middle school wanted to dye their hair black and join a band, but her dad wouldn’t allow it.

Cass-Ballet and orchestra music is the only thing she chooses to listen too, but doesn’t mind anybody else’s music as long as she gets to be around that person. (She really dislikes synth pop though)

Damien-I think that while he was raised by the league to be a killing weapon, Ra’s is such a huge lover of the arts that he would sneak Damien away from Talia and have him listen to Traditional music from around the world. Outside of that, and though he will deny it, he likes Dick’s music.

Alfred-Everyone thinks he only listens to Classical music, but is a big fan of the ‘60s British invasion bands like: the beatles, the who, the Rolling Stones, and very early Deep Purple.

Duke-shares his mother’s tastes in music, loving ‘90s R&B like Destinies child, TLC, and boys 2 men.

Harper-Into classic “real punk music” (their words to Steph) with rebellious tones, and Hardcore political statements, bands like the Sex Pistols, and the ramones. For modern bands they like Rise Against and Muse.

Selina-Their guilty pleasure music is ‘80s pop like Madonna, Cyndi Lauper, and Paula Abdul. But her favorite band is No Doubt, and likes Gwen Stefani’s early music.

I’ll probably make a part-2 for the rest of the Family, but here are the core Family (to me at least)